Author's disclaimer: Although the story is mine, it is a work of fiction based on the character
of Due South. All Characters portrayed here belong to Alliance. Please do not
print/copy/download or send any part of this story to anyone else, other than for your
personal enjoyment. Thank you.
 

Author's notes: This story takes place after the Due South episode Juliette Is Bleeding in the second season. Minor spoilers for Juliette is Bleeding and One Good Man. Rated NC-17-for language, violence, and sexual content. WARNINGS: m/f, h/c/violence/rape.

Please contact me at perrymor@home.net
I welcome any comments about my story.

Thanks to Fear*Aradia NightWolf* for reading my mind!
 
 

   By: Amethyst
 

         Detective Ray Vecchio sat at his desk in the 27th precinct, attempting to keep his mind on the case load before him, but his eyes kept wandering across the room to the now vacant desk of Lewis (Louey) Gardino. His untimely and horrible death, just a short week ago, had left the entire police force in mourning, but more so was his comrades here at the station he worked. Elaine still seemed to tear up whenever she passed his desk and Detective Dewey; his friend and partner; had become tirelessly active, throwing himself into any case he could find as though doing the work of two men.  Welsh was still holding out on arranging a new partner for Dewey, a first for the usually by-the-book Lieutenant, as a new partner in such cases are usually assigned when in a few days, but Ray suspected Welsh understood Dewey was still too raw, as they all were. Ray had become withdrawn, not even opening up at to his family at home and Fraser...
         Ray swore silently. Fraser. The Mounties's name still cut through him, as it never did before. He kept hearing the Canadian's words that night that they had gone to Frank Zuko's home. Fraser had said Ray was dangerous, that he wasn't thinking straight, and that he was acting out of guilt over Gardino's death. Ray had been to angry at the Mountie to listen to reason, Fraser had betrayed him by going behind Ray's back and finding a witness that could clear Frank Zuko of planting the bomb in Ray's car that killed his fellow detective. But Fraser's interference only incensed Ray and so he didn't listen to the man who was his friend and partner, didn't listen when he charged into Zuko's house after Irene. Didn't listen to Irene that he stay away and didn't listen to Frank's threat to kill him if he didn't leave. All he knew was that he had to get Irene away from her brother, far away from the man whom Ray thought was a monster and deserved to die. But in the moment that shots were fired, it wasn't Frank who died, it wasn't Ray, it was Irene. Innocent, lovely Irene, who had pushed Ray's hand at the last second to save her miserable brother's life and ended up taking a bullet meant for Ray.
         His heart had dropped out of his chest, he was sure it had stopped beating as well when he had seen her slumped in the corner with blood oozing from her chest. He'd picked her up and carried her, yelling for an ambulance, praying for a miracle, that she wouldn't die. He told her to close her eyes, that it would be okay, she begged him to end the hatred between himself and her brother. Her dying wish was one she should never have had to make. If only Ray had listened. If only he had ruled with his head instead of his heart she might still be alive. He told her he loved her over and over and that it would be okay, all the way to the hospital, until the doctors took her from him and he waited anxiously in the corner of the ICU as they tried to resuscitate her. He had failed her once again, just like when they were kids.
 In the waiting room, Frank Zuko waited in custody, but Ray couldn't even glance at him to offer condolences. He told Fraser and Dewey that she didn't make it and immediately Dewey pressed for a murder charge against Zuko. Ray was tired, he was angry and he was so close to tears that he could barely see straight. It was an accident, he told Dewey. He had made a promise to Irene and he would keep it, though no power within him could make him even acknowledge the man who had taken Irene from him. Fraser's arm was around his shoulders; he had remembered how comforting that had felt as the Mountie steered him away from the press outside as Zuko was led away. He felt guilty for his behavior toward his partner, but Fraser didn't seem to acknowledge their previous tension. He was there to listen and to comfort and Ray was grateful. Ray remembered telling him about the first time he and Irene had ever danced, in PE class in school. Fraser listened silently, for once not knowing what to say, but he was there and that was all Ray cared about. Eventually Fraser took Ray home and saw to putting him to bed. The rest of his family were asleep, as Fraser guided him up the stairs of his home and led him to his bedroom. He didn't remember going to bed, but he awoke there the next morning, so he assumed Fraser had tucked him in as well then left. His cheeks were stained with tears and he wondered if Fraser had seen him crying and how long the Mountie had stayed with him into the night.
         That had been almost three days ago and he had not seen or spoken to the Canadian since. Fraser had taken to walking to and from work, instead of Ray picking him up and in a way Ray was grateful as it gave them some space to sort things out, but today was Irene's funeral and he needed someone to go with him. He wasn't sure of his feelings for Fraser anymore, but he did acknowledge that seeing Frank at the funeral might send him over the top and he needed someone to run interference, Fraser was good at that. No amount of discussion would keep Ray from going he had made that clear to Welsh, Dewey and all those who had tried to talk him out of it when they heard he planned to go. The woman he loved was being buried today and he would pay his last respects, regardless of what else may occur.
         As though the mere though of Fraser pulled him into being, Ray glanced up and saw the Canadian making his way across the room toward him, in his dress reds. He could see the hesitant expression on Fraser's face and the loathsome stares of the other officers in the room, they were also still angry with Fraser for what they deemed his stepping out of bounds for Zuko against their own. Cops were serious when it came to betrayal in the ranks and Fraser had no doubt seen this type of animosity before, after all they deported him from Canada for turning in a RCMP officer that killed his father. It hadn't mattered that he was a bad cop, he was still a cop and that made Fraser an outsider and in the wrong.
         "Hello, Ray." Greeted his friend quietly, his Stetson fidgeted nervously between his fingers.
         "Hey, Benny." Returned Ray just as softly, his eyes remaining lowered. He just couldn't meet those big blue eyes of his, yet. "What're you doin' here?" Fraser's finger rose to caress his eyebrow, a tell tale sign of anxiety for the Canadian.
         "I...I  know Miss. Zuko's funeral is today and I thought..." He paused and Ray found himself looking up in surprise, Fraser never had trouble talking to him. "I thought you would like some company, if you don't mind it being me, that is."
         "Don't you gotta work?" accused Ray sullenly, drawing his eyes away once again from the pain he saw reflected in his partner's eyes.
         "Inspector Thatcher said I might be relieved for the day, Ray." He informed  "I told her I had something important to attend to, but if you prefer to go alone I..I'll understand." Of course he would, assumed Ray silently, Fraser was very good at taking whatever cruelty people dished out, even when it was from his own partner. That angered the detective as well, the way Benny allowed others to walk all over him, but it was a long standing feud between him and the Mountie and he wasn't in the mood to get into it.
         "Sure, Benny." He muttered. "If ya want to go that's fine." He tried not to show his relief as Fraser offered him a small smile.
         "Thank you, Ray." He returned shyly. Ray shrugged and rose to pull his  dark trench coat from  the back of his chair, he was wearing his best black suit today, one of the few Fraser hadn't managed to ruin with his escapades, he thought wryly. He dropped the file he had been reading back into the small pile on his desk and walked past Fraser, with the Mountie turning to follow. He was surprised when Elaine stepped up to him, wearing a simple black dress and a long dress coat. It had been her day off and he wondered why she was at the station; she was usually very protective of such days.
         "What are you doin' here Elaine?" he voiced the question aloud. She offered him a shy smile.
         "I..I wanted to go with you, Ray." She explained gently. "To the funeral."
         "You didn't even know Irene." He reminded curious.
         "No, " she admitted. "But I know you and she meant a lot to you and that's enough for me." She sensed Ray was about to refuse. "Please, Ray. I..I'd like to pay my respects." Ray stared at her for a long while, then finally nodded and walked passed her, assuming she would follow. She exchanged a concerned glance with Fraser, then followed the detective, with Fraser behind her.
 

         Ray was surprised to find only three other people attending the funeral, as they entered St. Augusta's Church, Frank, his body guard and an old friend of the family that Ray remembered used to work for Frank's Dad. There were no other mobsters in attendance, unusual, since funerals and weddings were the mob's major gatherings.
He dipped his fingers in the holy water and crossed himself before entering the inner chapel. Elaine did the same, as did Fraser, though he wasn't Catholic, out of respect. Ray's family had sent a large condolence bouquet, but wouldn't be attending, and he saw that the church was filled with flowers of other well wishers.
         He gritted his teeth when Frank Zuko turned and met his gaze, his posture stiffened instantly. At first, Ray thought the man would throw a tantrum and come after him for daring to show his face, but then the older gentleman placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder and spoke to him. Frank settled and cast Ray an angry but resigned look, he would not disrespect the church or his sister's last rite.
         Sensing that catastrophe had been averted, Fraser placed a hand on Ray's arm, reminding him to move forward and find a seat. Ray glared at Frank, who had turned his eyes back to the front, his hands balled into fists at the fury that was mounting inside him. He had killed Irene, granted it had been an accident, but he'd already threatened to kill her before he allow her to leave the house with Ray. The bastard got his way and Ray hated him for it, hated him for taking Irene away from him.
         Fraser's hand was squeezing his shoulder, perhaps in comfort, perhaps in warning, but it urged him to start walking again. They settled into a pew just opposite and two down from where Frank and the others sat. Ray glanced at the church, thinking how pitiful a turnout it was for Irene, she deserved better. He didn't understand why there was no one else here, until the doors opened and people began filing in. Recognizing most of them as Zuko's fellow mobsters, Ray was instantly on his feet and wary of them. If they meant to cause trouble he would be ready. They all filtered to the other side of the church, where Frank sat, quietly settling in their seats, a few offering condolences to Zuko.
         "How touching." Ray hissed under his breath. "He kills his own sister and they feel sorry for him."
         "Ray." warned Fraser gently. "Not today." Ray ignored him but kept the rest of his comments to himself as the priest came out and made his way up the isle onto the alter, followed by the coffin bearers. Ray tensed as they passed, but Irene's coffin was closed with a long delicate church sheath placed over it. His eyes never left the dark wood casing as it was settled gently in the place of honor before the alter and he felt tears spring to his eyes at the thought of his love inside that cold dark box. Irene had always hated dark enclosed spaces, she preferred the sunshine and outdoors.
         The back door to the church opened again and Ray was shocked to see most of the people from his precinct enter quietly, the majority in their dress blues. Zuko's side of the church seemed perched on the edge of an uproar as the police officers filed up the aisle and settled behind Ray, Fraser and Elaine, but then a look from Zuko quieted his fellow mourners and all fell quiet again. Welsh nodded to Ray, standing directly behind him.
         "What are you all doing here?" he demanded quietly to the Lieutenant.
         "It's called burying the hatchet, Detective." replied Welsh. "When one of our own hurt, we all hurt." Ray felt tears burn his eyes once again as he held out his hand to his commanding officer.
        "Thank you, Sir." he whispered, his tears almost strangling him, making it difficult to talk. He nodded his appreciation to the other officers, who offered him small smiles and acknowledging gestures in return. Many of them speaking with Elaine as well, but only Welsh acknowledged Fraser, who seemed surprised when the Lieutenant offered him a supportive pat on the back. Again Ray watched his partner's acceptance of their behavior, though he did see the pulse jump slightly in Fraser's tightened jaw. What was the matter with them? Fraser had always been kind and exceptionally helpful to everyone at the precinct, they had all liked him, even though a few thought he was a tad weird. Now, after one incident they were washing his hands of him, how fair was that?
        Ray stiffened as a little voice inside his head reminded him that he had done the same, and he was Fraser's friend and partner. Ray turned back around, hastily wiping at a tear that had managed to escape. The church was almost full, both sides of the field were represented and were sitting in peace under God's house.
        "It's all for you, Irene." He whispered. "All for you." Fraser glanced at his friend, hearing Ray's soft dedication, and blinked away his own tears, as the man who always seemed so strong and sure, cried openly as the mass began.
 

        At the gravesite, as the Priest read the final word before Irene could be laid to rest, he offered a moment for those who wished to approach the coffin to pay their last respects. A few of the mourners on Zuko's side placed white and red roses over the coffin and Ray started to tremble; he hadn't remembered to bring one. When it was his turn to approach the coffin, he seemed almost hesitant, for Zuko was still standing so close to it. He glanced up and the two long time enemies stared at each other, their gazes locked in an internal battle with their hearts and minds. Finally Ray looked away and stepped up to the coffin. He knelt beside it and ran his hand along the soft wood in a gentle caress, God how he would miss her and how sorry he was it had worked out this way. I'm sorry, Irene. He pledged silently. I should have walked away, should have listened to you and let go of my hate. I didn't and it got you killed. I won't ask for your forgiveness, because I will never forgive myself, but I do ask that you rest easy, my quarrel with your brother is over, I promise you that. I love you.
         He was startled to feel something soft by his cheek. He turned his face sideways and stared at the single white rose that Frank Zuko was offering him. He glanced up at the man who was the bane of his existence and found a matching sorrow in his eyes. Ray had lost the woman he had loved, but Frank had killed his sister and it would haunt him for the rest of his life. Ray accepted the rose with a shaky hand and brought it to his lips, then placed it carefully on the coffin. He closed his eyes for a moment, and a heavy fear washed over him at the idea that he would not be able to stand; his grief was threatening to overtake him, but then a strong hand appeared on his shoulder and he looked up into deep familiar blue eyes. He nodded and rose, Fraser's hand never leaving him, as he returned to stand with his fellow officers. He felt Elaine's hand creep into his and when he glanced down found that she was also crying. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, offering her a strength he didn't feel, as they watched the casket being lowered into the ground.
         "I once was lost but now I'm found, was blind but now I see." Fraser murmured quietly, his eyes lowered and his lashes thick with unshed tears. Ray nodded. There was nothing left to say.
 

          Ray was quiet on the ride back to the precinct, he had dropped Elaine off at home, after thanking her for coming with them, and now was debating the man sitting beside him. Fraser had also remained quiet, saying nothing as they all climbed into the large blue Crown Royal Victoria that Ray was using from the department's motor pool, since his own car had been destroyed. Fraser's only words were a polite good bye to Elaine when she left them.
         "You need me to drop ya back at the consulate, Benny?" inquired Ray, also not in a talkative mood.
         "Thank you, Ray that would be..." Fraser started to say, then seemed to change his mind. "Actually, no Ray. I do not wish to return to the consulate."
         "Where then?"
         "I...I thought perhaps my place, Ray." He offered quietly. "So we could talk." Ray stared out ahead, he wasn't ready to forgive Fraser yet, let alone talk to him, despite all the Canadian had done for him.
         "I don't think so, Benny." He refused.
         "Ray, please." Fraser's voice seemed almost pained in its request. "We need to talk. I know you and everyone at the station are still upset over what I did, I don't mind that so much, I've been there before, but Ray I can't stand that you won't talk to me either."
         "We are talkin' Benny." Reminded Ray as they stopped at a red light, he didn't want to do this now, he was still too angry and didn't know if he could contain it for long in front of his partner. He really didn't want to hurt Fraser, but the guy couldn't understand that everyone was still too raw, their feelings were too much on edge, especially Ray's.
         "We're civil, Ray." He corrected. "We aren't talking, not like before."
         "I can't do this right now, Benny." Explained Ray as they started moving again.
         "How long are you going to stay mad at me, Ray?" demanded Fraser. "I'm sorry you feel I betrayed you, but I was only doing what was right. Frank Zuko didn't kill Lewis and you were too blinded by grief and hatred to see that."
         "Benny, just stop, okay." Warned Ray, his grip tightening on the wheel, he did not want to hear again how he had screwed up and gotten Irene killed. "I said I don't wanna talk and I mean it."
         "Ray, please." Fraser's voice was pleading now. "You're my best friend and I..."
         "I said leave it alone, Fraser!" Ray screamed at him furiously, causing Fraser to slump back in his seat as though he had been physically slapped. Ray worked to lower his voice.
        "Just for now, okay, Benny? Just leave it be for now." Fraser stared down at his hat and nodded.
         "Okay, Ray." He agreed, but Ray detected a slight tremble in the usually strong voice. "Whatever you say. The Consulate will be fine, thank you kindly." Fraser raised his head to stare out the passenger side window. Ray glanced at him a few times, an apology forming on his lips, but he just couldn't make himself say it. Part of him wanted the Canadian to get angry with him, tell him to go to hell, hit him, anything to reveal the pain he was obviously in by the way Ray and the others had treated him, but he didn't.
        Fraser sat quietly, staring out the window, the subject had been dropped and Ray was swamped with feelings of guilt and anger. Fight back, Benny, he wanted to say. Don't let me do this to you, because I'm too much of a coward to admit I was wrong. Don't let my anger destroy us, say something-anything. Fraser was silent. When they were just a block from the Consulate, his voice was  suddenly alert.
        "Ray stop the car."
         "Benny, ya don't gotta get out here, I'll drive you..." Ray had started to say, but Fraser was already reaching for the door handle, so Ray pulled to the curb and slammed on the breaks. Fraser jumped out and Ray finally saw what the Mountie was after, a woman had just been assaulted and the perpetrator was running through a back alley with Fraser close behind. Ray grabbed up his radio mike and called it in, then leapt from the vehicle and hurried to the woman lying on the street. She assured him she was okay, that he had taken her purse and tried to rape her, but the Mountie had intervened. Ray told her to stay where she was until help arrived then drew his gun and chased after Fraser.
         Fraser almost had him, though the suspect had leapt a chain fence in the back of the alley, thrown crates in Fraser's path and jumped through a large hole in a wooden fence. Fraser watched the suspect dart into another alley, just as he heard Ray Vecchio calling his name. If he waited for the detective to catch up he would most likely loose the suspect, so he continued the chase. He rounded the alley directly where the assailant had gone and came to a stop. Nothing. The alley was empty with no sign of the suspect. Fraser moved to the only door in the area and found it locked. He turned back to check the dumpster behind him, at the same time a large two by four knocked him in the head, rendering him unconscious.
         Ray cornered the alley, he'd seen Fraser disappear into at a dead run, and almost lost his footing. His gun came up automatically as he righted himself and scanned the area. Nothing.
         "Benny!" he called. He knew he had seen his partner come in here. He tried the door, locked. He pounded his fist on it but no one came to open it. "Fraser!" Where the hell did he go? He started toward the Dumpster and something shiny caught his eye. He knelt to examine the object by his shoe and found it to be one of the buttons off of Fraser's uniform, and  a dark wet spot that  looked suspiciously like blood coated one side of it.. Damn, he had a bad feeling about this. He rose and dropped the button in his pocket, glancing once more around him, then ran back to his vehicle to call for backup.
 

         Ray paced the floor in Welsh's office impatiently, as Elaine, Welsh and Margaret Thatcher watched him.
         "We gotta find him, Sir." He advised anxiously, his hand going to rub the sore muscles in his neck. He had been up all night helping forensics go through that alley with a fine-tooth-comb, but that had found nothing. Ray had knocked on every door within a two-mile radius to see if anyone had seen anything relating to the disappearance of the Mountie, but no one was talking. Now, he felt like a caged tiger, wanting to get out and find some leads but having no where to look.
         "We will, Detective." Assured Welsh complacently. "We're doing everything in our power to..." Ray cut him off.
         "Yah, right." He sneered. "No body here gives a shit about him, not since he helped Zuko. They aren't gonna lift a finger more than they have to." Welsh stood from his desk and glared at the detective.
         "This is my precinct and my men, Vecchio." He reminded dangerously. "If I tell them to do whatever needs to be done then that's what they'll do. I know some of them are still harboring some hard feelings toward Constable Fraser right now, but they won't let that get in the way of their duty. They're cops, they know the score and despite what ever has happened Fraser is still one of us."
          Ray slumped into a chair. Welsh was wrong, sure they know the score, but it wasn't very long ago when they bent and twisted that score to nail Zuko for killing a cop. Fraser was the only one who had seen the situation clearly and he had been ostracized for it, even by his own partner. He could no longer count on his fellow officers to help find his friend, he would have to do it himself. He stood again, decisively.
         "Permission to leave sir?" he asked, trying to keep the belligerence out of his voice for he knew Welsh wouldn't tolerate it.
         "Where are you planing to go, Detective?" the Lieutenant asked warily.
         "Home, sir." He lied. "I've been up all night and I should rest if I'm to be at my best to find Fraser." The lieutenant nodded, though Vecchio suspected he didn't believe the story.
         "Fine." Agreed Welsh with a hidden warning in his voice. "Just don't let your resting get you killed."
         "Understood, Sir." Replied Ray, grabbing the jacket he had draped on Welsh's sofa, and heading out. He was retrieving his gun from his desk when Thatcher approached him.
         "May I..." she began. "I would like to assist you in finding Constable Fraser." She told him. Ray stared at her a moment, biting back the nasty comment that rose in his throat, she really looked worried. Finally he nodded.
         "Just don't get in my way." He warned as they headed out of the station. He caught the tail end of  a conversation between two other cops.
         "Any word on Big Red yet?" the dark haired one was asking and the red head next to him made a wry sound.
         "Who cares? He's probably out tryin' to get Charlie Manson released." Both men started to laugh, until Ray had grabbed the red head by the throat and had him pinned to the wall.
         "You watch what you say about my partner." He hissed threateningly, unaware that other cops were now rushing toward him. "If I don't find Fraser I'll be takin' it outta yer hide, you got me?" The red head was nodding vigorously, his face flushed indignantly, but his eyes flashed with fear. Welsh and Dewey pulled Ray off of him and separated the two.
         "Yer nuts!" the cop screamed at Vecchio. "Yer as crazy as that damned Mountie! You deserve each other!" Ray lunged for him again, but was held back by the Lieutenant and Dewey.
         "That's enough!" roared Welsh angrily, shoving Ray toward Thatcher and glaring at the other cop. "Fraser is considered a member of this police force and you will not disrespect him again, are we clear on that?" The red head nodded, chagrinned. "Now get yer asses out there and find him, or look for another job." Then he turned to Vecchio. "Don't you have something to do, Detective?" Ray nodded and stormed out, Thatcher close behind.
 

         A drift of conscious thought raced through Fraser's mind as he awoke to darkness. Hr could feel something coarse and tight around his eyes, blocking his vision and his hands were bound behind him, wound through the hard chair he was sitting on.
         "Ray?" he called out, his partner's impending arrival had been his last memory before he was knocked unconscious. Silence greeted him but his heightened sense of smell detected the scent of apples? No more like oranges, a heavy citrus scent that seemed to surround him. Could he be in some type of warehouse where fruit was stored? His suspicion was interrupted by a different scent overtaking him, rose water, very light but he detected it none the less. "Hello? Who's there?" There was a movement beside him and he flinched unexpectedly.
         "Finally awake are you?' inquired a soft feminine voice. Fraser turned his head in the direction of her voice.
         "Who are you? Where am I? What am I doing here?" he asked her. She clicked her tongue at him
         "So many questions." She remarked with a smile in her voice. "You'll get your answers in time, Constable, but for right now you just need to relax and let me do all the work." Fraser didn't like the way she phrased that, though he detected a slight twang to hr voice, perhaps a southern dialect.
         "W..what work?" he asked her. "What is happening here?" He stiffened as he felt the added weight of her straddling him, and her fingers moved inside his RCMP regulation T-shirt. It was then that he realized he no longer wore his red serge and suspenders. He tensed and pulled at his bonds.
         "Relax, honey." She cooed, running her hands over his torso seductively.
         "W..what are you doing?' he demanded, fearing the answer.
         "Well, now." She laughed. "If you have to ask..." she laughed again, leaving the rest of her words to his imagination.
         "Please don't." he asked her, as her fingers on one hand played with his nipples, while the other pulled his shirt upwards.
         "Don't you like women, honey?" she asked coyly.
         "Y..yes but..." Fraser gasped as she pulled a nipple into her mouth and suckled it erotically. "Don't, please. Stop. I don't want..."
         "You will want." She promised him. "By the time I'm through with you that's all you'll want." She laughed again at her own cleverness and reached down to touch him
between the legs. His entire body jumped from her touch, and she suspected that had he not been bound to the chair he might be halfway to the ceiling.
         "No." he refused firmly. "You have no right..."
         "Don't quote rights to me, Mountie." She warned, her voice carrying a dark edge to it now. "As of now you have no rights, just like..." she paused, unwilling to give her secrets away just yet, so she continued her exploration of him. Fraser willed himself not to respond, dredging up every possibly inappropriate fact he'd ever read in an effort to quell the sensations that her touch was evoking, but he could feel his own body betraying him; provoking him to concentrate harder. Don't respond and she'll leave you alone, that's how it always worked. If they don't think you get it they get tired of trying, he just had to be as persistent as his captor, not to respond. He kept thinking how her voice sounded familiar but he simply couldn't place it.
         He heard the sound of fabric tearing and realized she was ripping his shirt, since she couldn't remove it with his hands bound behind him. Briefly he registered that he would have to purchase another one, but then her mouth was one his, hot, moist and demanding. Fraser kept his lips firmly closed, not willing to give into her seduction and wondering why the hell she hadn't given up yet. The hand that still held him tightly between his thighs squeezed painfully and a gasp escaped him, offering her the access she had been denied. Fraser cursed himself, but he couldn't have held in the muffled cry of pain even if he'd wanted to, it had been too sudden and he's been unprepared. She attacked his mouth viciously, sliding her tongue in and out with a promise of things to come and Fraser felt ashamed as his body finally started responding to her stimulation. He tried to tear his mouth away, tried to get some air into the lungs she was denying oxygen to, but she held his head firmly between her hands now and he had no leverage to break away. His head started to swim and he didn't know if it was from the desire she was evoking or the lack of air in his body.
         Finally she released his mouth and he gulped in the precious oxygen that his body craved. The idea that he might have suffocated while she was kissing him was bizarre but he couldn't help the thought as it ran through his mind.
         "Enjoyed that did you?' she asked, mistaking his panting for a sign of passion. He shook his head, unable to force words to his mouth just yet, and she laughed. "Liar. You'll really like this then." Fraser tensed as he felt her slip off of him and kneel between his legs. She reached for the button of his jodhpurs and he tried to twist away from her, her goal becoming clear to him.
         "Please." He found himself pleading. "Don't do that..."
         "Do what?" she teased, pulling his zipper down and watching him flinch from her touch.
         "Do that...anything." Decided Fraser frantically. "I..I don't know what you want but I can't...please leave me alone. Don't...." At first, she had stopped her movements and he thought she was going to take pity on him and stop, but then he heard her refuse and reach inside to grab her prize. Fraser's whole body tightened in both desire and shame, as she took him into her mouth. He gasped and tried to remain as still as possible, not an easy feat considering what she was doing, but his body once again betrayed him and he felt his hips rise slightly off the chair toward her mouth. Dear God she was amazing! He both hated and loved the feel of her hot, moist mouth on his hardening arousal, and as she licked and sucked him he thought he might pass out from strain of trying to remain passive. When she deep throated him he knew he was lost and he cursed the moan that slipped from his lips. She took that as a sign that he was finally starting to enjoy her work and she picked up the pace.
        OH GOD! Make it end. He thought desperately, despite the fantastic sensations rocketing through him, his shame was almost unbearable, and he preyed for a resolution. He whimpered a denial as he came inside her wonderfully talented mouth. She licked him dry then refastened his pants. Fraser's head hung in self incrimination and tears licked at his lashes, underneath the blindfold. He couldn't blink to dispel them and soon they were rolling slowly down his cheeks, despite his efforts.
         "That's just for starters, Constable." The woman informed him wickedly and Fraser couldn't help the sob that tore from his throat.
 

        Fraser heard a door quietly closed far off in the background and bit his lip. He had  to regain his control, he wouldn't be able to get out of here otherwise. He pushed back his feelings of shame and self-loathing. Swallowed his tears and doubts and concentrated on the matter at hand. He was a Mountie, he could do this. He regulated his breathing and flexed his hands. The rope that secured him felt nylon based, so he doubted he could rip it apart, judging with his fingers he found that the rope was round through two of the spindles on the back of the chair that lay against his back. He went to work on pulling those free. They were wood, and seemed solid, but after he twisted and turned them a few times he felt them give. He had started to work up a sweat, pulling and pushing, twisting and turning as much as his fingers would allow. A cramp in his right hand caused him to stop momentarily, as he tried to massage it out. After a few minutes he was able to resume. He sighed in relief as the first peg finally broke, then he started on the other one. That one was a little easier to free and didn't seem to take as much time. Fraser stood and kicked the chair away from him, then sat on the floor to bring his hands under his legs and around to the front.
        He pulled his blind fold off and squinted at the florescent lights above him. He was in a warehouse, just as he suspected, and there were boxes of fruit lined up in one corner of the room. He quickly released his hands from their bonds and stood, his legs a little week from sitting so long in that chair, no doubt. He noticed his tunic and Stetson on a crate a few feet away, quickly rid himself of the torn shirt he now wore and pulled his tunic on. He fastened the buttons with practiced ease, noticing that one of the upper ones were missing, when he went to fasten his collar. He grabbed his hat and walked to the large sliding door, the only way in or out of the room, it seemed. He tried it and found it locked, so then he looked upward for an escape route. He saw a window at the very top of the wall, to high to jump for, but perhaps if he stacked some crates. He set to work, building him a makeshift, tower just under the window, dumping the fruit out and turning the crates over for leverage. It was a waste of good fruit, for sure, but there were more important things to consider at the moment, like getting out of there intact.
         Finally the tower was finished and he carefully ascended the rickety crates. He made it to the window and pushed it open. He was a long way up, at least thirty feet, and he didn't think he could just drop to the ground from here. He glanced back at the door, someone was coming. His decision made, he climbed through the window and hung from it, looking for something to grab on to and either ease his way down or enable him to climb onto the roof. He knew it would be just a matter of time before someone found him hanging there from the window, so he had to think fast. He heard a shout from inside the room he had just left and the sound of someone scurrying  up over the crates. There was concrete directly below him and a river just after that to his left. He wondered if he might get enough momentum to swing that far, but then he spotted the rusting drainpipe just across from him. He doubted it would hold his weight, but then he only needed it for a second or two. The trouble was in reaching it. A hand suddenly reached from the window and started to haul him upwards. Fraser looked up at a large, perturbed dark haired man. Fraser grimaced as the man gripped him hard to pull him through the window. Fraser was half way through when an awful noise shook the room and the crates began to fall. The man grabbed at Fraser, almost pulling him down atop him, but The Mountie had gotten a secure hold on the window sill and remained sitting upright, watching the man become buried under the crates as they fell.
         "Stay where you are." Warned a voice from below, another man and this one with a gun. Fraser froze, but allowed his eyes to wander to the drainpipe again. He could reach it from here, he just knew it, if he could just get the proper leverage. He carefully brought his legs up and balanced himself carefully on the ledge of the window. "Don't you move or I'll shoot your ass out of there." The man below warned. Fraser nodded at him, the sprung from the ledge toward the pipe, his right hand caught it, the left one missed, but his weight was enough to pull the pipe from the wall and send him forward in preparation to snap. Fraser dove from the pipe, just before it gave way completely and hit the water feet first.
 
 

         Ray had followed a lead a homeless man had given him to a car rental company than from there he retrieved an address and name. Unfortunately the address was a vacant lot and the name an alias. The list of criminals he had Fraser helped to incarcerate were apparently all still in jail. Thatcher on her own, calling in a few favors, managed to locate a list of Canadian criminals that had either just been released or escaped from prison and might have it in for Fraser. Only two met the criteria. A trapper from Inuvick, whom Fraser had put away six years ago for fraud, illegal smuggling and hunting without a license, and an Inuit midwife who had been dealing in excessive fur trading. Neither really seemed the type to come after Fraser, which once again left them at a dead end.
The only person that came up on Fraser's arrest list that was still at large was Victoria Metcaf and the idea that she had taken Fraser made a hollow pit inside his stomach.
         Welsh, meanwhile was waiting to see if the Canadian government might receive a ransom note for the abducted Constable, but after two days they still had not heard from anyone. Francesca was beside herself when she'd heard Fraser was missing and Elaine seemed close to tears more often. They had already lost one of their dear friends, Ray had lost the women he loved, and she didn't know what they would do if they lost Fraser. The other officers were starting to feel rather guilty over the way they had treated the Canadian the past week and were eager to do anything they could to help. Diefenbaker was staying with Francesca, but wouldn't eat or sleep.
         Ray was coming out of his house, early the next morning, ready to continue the search for Fraser, he had only stopped to change clothes and had not slept since Fraser had been kidnapped. He heard a sound behind him and automatically went for his gun.
         "You won't need that." Assured a familiar voice, wryly. Ray slowly turned around to face Frank Zuko.
         "What the hell do you want." Hissed Ray angrily, he had neither the time nor patience for this man right now. Frank stepped forward and offered him a slip of paper, after quickly scanning the area.
         "Thought you might like some help finding your Mountie." He volunteered cautiously. Ray glared at him, ignoring the offered sheet.
         "So, what I'm supposed to believe you?" he demanded. "You probably kidnapped him and if you are, so help me Zuko I'll..." He broke off, partially wishing that it was Zuko that had the Mountie, even that would be better than the possibility of Victoria.
         "Nah, I ain't got your Mountie." He denied. "But I asked around and found out who does." Ray still did not take the sheet, he did not trust this man and right now it was using everything in his power to keep from taking out his gun and blowing the bastard's head off.
         "And I suppose yer doin' this outta the kindness or yer heart, hey Frankie?" Zuko shrugged.
         "Nah, that'd be stupid." He admitted. "But I owe the Mountie, he got me off..."
         "Yah an' I'll bet you enjoyed it to ya little..." muttered Ray, though loud enough for the other man to hear him.
         "Look. If you don't want to find yer friend, that's business." Retorted Zuko angrily. "I just thought I'd offer." He paused and glared at the detective. "I ain't doin' it fer you, I'm doin' it...fer Irene, cause she would've wanted me to help you." Ray took the paper and Frank turned to walk away.
         "Don't think this changes anything, Frankie." Ray called after him. "I'll still nail you if I get the chance."
         "Whatever, Vecchio." Spat Zuko. "Do what you gotta do and I'll do what I gotta do, just stay the hell away from me and you'll keep livin'." Ray glared at his retreating back.
         "Yah, I'm just shakin' in my boots, asshole." He muttered, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept across his face as he slid behind the wheel of his car. He turned the key, then unfolded the paper, it was the address to a warehouse on the docks. He put the paper in his pocket and gunned the engine. It could be a trap, but he was out of options. He had to find Fraser. He'd swing by the consulate and pick up Thatcher, he'd promised her she could help and she seemed generally worried about her subordinate.
 
 

         Fraser awoke in much the same predicament as the last time he'd opened his eyes, but this time he seemed to be shackled to a wall. He was no longer wearing his own clothes, he could tell that by the feel of them, though he suspected his new attire was a button down shirt and loose pants. He could feel the snaps against his chest and the slacks were roomy, but flowed at the ankles, unlike his jodhpurs. He was once again blindfolded and wondered how he had gotten back here. He remembered escaping and managing to dive into the water, but he didn't remember anything after that. Perhaps the impact knocked him out, though he wasn't sure how that could have happened since he had gone in feet first. He could still smell the citrus in the air so he assumed he was back in the same room.
         He heard the door open and instinct caused him to raise his head in that general direction, despite the fact he could see nothing. His wrists were bound to far apart to reach his face from any angle and aid him in removing the blindfold, but he tensed when he felt the person stepping closer to him, he knew her scent now and it angered him that he found he was afraid of her.
         "I suppose you thought you were being daring trying to escape like that." She commented calmly and he flinched away from the finger that caressed his cheek. He felt something moist being applied to his temple and then something soft, but tight covering the spot. She spoke again. "It was an amusing show, but obviously you must be punished for such an act.
          Fraser heard the scuffle of feet, a short time and realized they were no longer alone in the room. His captor had composed herself and him, although she left his shirt open and moved the chair away. As heavy footfalls, large men from what he could tell of their gait and hard breathing, sauntered across the room toward him; perhaps the men he'd seen during his escape attempt.
         "We'll take good care of him, Ma'am." One assured with a sneer in his voice and Fraser heard the sound of wood slapping against the man's palm. Oh God, he thought, I think I'd rather have her punish me. He shook the thought from his mind and steeled himself for the beating as he heard his captor say.
         "Not on the face, boys." she insisted. "That face is entirely too perfect to mess up." Fraser bit back the groan of apprehension that rose to his lips, he was helpless, with his arms chained, and though he might be able to get a few kicks in, without being able to see they would be random at best. That left him relying on only is sense of smell and hearing, it would have to do. He slowed his breathing, concentrating on feeling his surroundings. He figured one man standing slightly to his left and he heard the swish of the wood as it sliced the air toward what he believed was his ribs. He moved quickly, barely dodging the instrument, hearing it crunch against the wall behind him.
         "How the hell!" one demanded surprised. "I won't miss this time." Again the wood came after him, the grain sliding through the air near his...chest! He managed to dodge again, but didn't know how much longer he would keep this up, it was still two against one. "Hold him." the man instructed and Fraser waited until he could almost smell the man's breath beside him, then swung one of his long legs and tripped the man, sweeping the other man's legs out from under him. He heard the muttered curse as his assailant scrambled to his feet.
         "You're both pathetic." His captor laughed. "The man is chained to the wall and you can't even hit him, for God's sake!" This seemed to incense his attackers and he received a hard blow to his jaw, his head whipping back and bouncing off the concrete behind him. "Not on the face!" she warned them, her amusement gone. Fraser was seeing stars and tried to shake his head to clear them, but they took advantage of his disorientation and proceeded to beat him viciously with their clubs and fists, until the pain almost caused Fraser to pass out. He dimly heard his captor give the order to halt and he sagged with relief, his chains the only thing preventing him form sliding down the wall and collapsing.  She was touching him again, cooing that she was sorry it had to be this way, but he barely heard her, darkness had started to enfold him.
         "Ray." He pleaded in a whisper, before the shadows claimed him.
 

         Ray and Thatcher were proceeding to the address that Frank Zuko had given him. Thatcher sat quietly, the silence between them stifling. Ray was the first to break.
         "We will find him." he assured her and she turned from the window to glance to him surprised that he had spoken to her. She nodded and returned her attention to the  window. Ray concentrated on his driving.
         "I'm sure Fraser will be alright." She suddenly remarked, offering him a smile, sensing they both needed to be reassured. "He's managed to get through many difficult things." Ray nodded, he knew Benny could be a tough nut to crack, but the detective sensed his emotional state wasn't what it should be, and that could make Fraser appear vulnerable.
         "I..do you talk to Fraser, much?" he asked her finally. She gazed him thoughtfully.
         "Of course I do, he's my subordinate."
         "No, I mean on a more personal level." He reiterated and Thatcher quickly shook her head.
         "That wouldn't be appropriate Detective." She informed coolly and Ray sighed.
         "You sound like Benny." He muttered.
         "Excuse me?"
         "Nothing." He gripped the wheel tighter. "I..I was just wondering if, y'know, he mentioned anything about..well talked to you this week about what happened..well before."
         Thatcher regarded him quietly, she knew what Vecchio was asking, if Fraser had confided in her their recent treatment of him. She knew the Constable had proved Frank Zuko innocent of planting a bomb in the detective's car and killing a fellow officer, she knew from other sources how the entire Chicago PD had turned on him, including his own partner. She couldn't abide such behavior, was sickened that her own government was still punishing Fraser for incarcerating Gerard, a fellow Mountie. Fraser had been on the side of justice, he had been right in his actions and his so-called friends had condemned him for it.
         Although she knew all this, and had secretly hoped Fraser would come to her about it, he had not. She gave him many opportunities to discuss the situation with her, but he remained detached and passive as ever, though she had encountered him twice, having red rimmed and swollen eyes from crying. She had even heard him on one occasion, late one evening when she was leaving for the Consulate. She had passed his door to say good night and had heard him sobbing brokenly. She wanted so much to comfort him, but he would have to come to her, she would not intrude on his privacy, although the following day she had invited him for coffee at lunch and had even managed to coax a smile from him during their talk.
 Now, Vecchio seemed to be looking for an absolution for his actions, perhaps he just wanted to understand what Fraser was going through or perhaps he merely wanted to explain himself to someone. Thatcher would not be party to helping him relieve his guilt, she had never really cared for the arrogant detective, but had accepted him as Fraser's partner and friend, now she would never forgive him for the hurt that he had caused the dear hearted Mountie.
         "Constable Fraser has briefed me on what happened, but nothing more than that." She finally told him. "I was sorry to hear about your loss." But if you had listened to Fraser it might never happened, she added silently, unaware that Ray was thinking the exact same thing.
         "Thanks." He relied quietly.

        They pulled up to the warehouse address, they had been searching for, got out and walked toward the dock entrance, where men were unloading fruit and nuts from the trucks parked there. A large man stopped them from going further.
         "Can I help you?' he inquired, though Ray suspected the man wanted more not to assist them. He flashed his badge.
         "Chicago PD." He introduced quickly. "We'd like to have a look inside."
         "Ya got a warrant?"
         "You hiding something you don't want the police to see?" he countered.
         "No warrant, no looking." The man spat. "We ain't a public museum. You want in, you get permission from the owner or a warrant from the state."
         "And where would the owner be?" asked Thatcher politely.
         "Florida." The man smirked and Ray glared at him.
        "Look, do we have to do this?" he said, cautiously charming. "I can get a warrant in less than an hour, then I gotta come back and we gotta bust yer door down and make a big mess, not to mention it's bad fer business, you get me?"
         "No warrant, no way." Returned the man stubbornly. Ray resisted the urge to hit the man, him winding up in jail on assault charges wouldn't help Fraser. He took Thatcher's arm and started back to the car.
         "We'll be back with a full investigation team." He threatened, but the man ignored him and turned his attention back to his workers.
         "We can't just leave." Insisted Thatcher shaking his arm away. "What if Fraser is in there?"
         "We're not..." he began, but then something caught his eye floating in the river. He dashed over and gasped. Fraser's hat! What was it doing in the river?" Vecchio grabbed a piece of mettle stripping from the ground and snagged the Stetson.
         "Where's Fraser?" Thatcher almost whispered, staring at the hat worriedly. Ray handed the Stetson to her and glanced up at the building next to them, he noticed the broken drain pipe just across from them, laying close to the edge of the river, then glanced up again at the marks on the building where the pipe had broken off. He would bet Fraser was up there, he had to be, the alternative was that his friend was at the bottom of the river, and that was something he refuse to believe right now. He'd already lost two people that he cared about, he would not loose Fraser.
         Guilt over their conversation in the car a few days earlier filled him and he remembered how he had yelled at him. I didn't mean it, Benny, he vowed silently, as though hoping Fraser would hear him. I'm coming fer ya partner. He blinked as a single word seemed to enter his head from nowhere, his own name, said in a desperate sounding voice. Fraser? He looked upwards but saw no sign that would prove the Mountie was in the building.
         "Com'on." He urged Thatcher back to the car. "We need a plan."

         The plan turned out to be getting to the roof in one of the adjacent buildings and jumping across to the warehouse they needed inside of. Dressed in dark clothing so it would be more difficult to see them in the night air, and equipped with flashlights and a grappling hook, them managed to get to the first roof top easily, as it was abandoned, the other roofs would pose a more serious problem. Ray was impressed with Thatcher's agility, and the fact that she hadn't remarked on the fact that they were actually breaking and entering. Ray suspected her search for Benny overruled all other sensible notions.
        Luckily, they found some abandoned planks on the rooftop, which Thatcher quickly fashioned into a bridge to cross to the other rooftops. In no time they stood on the building that was their goal and Ray was securing the hook and rope to an air turbine. Thatcher decided it would be better if she go down first, since she was lighter, but Ray refused. He was armed and would be the first to go in. Finally she gave in and watched as the detective slowly lowered himself to the window they had seen from the street, Thatcher occasionally glancing around for intruders.
         "Do you see anything?" she whispered down at him, as he hung suspended just beside the window. He carefully peered inside, not wanting to be caught looking in, and saw a lone figure, shackled to a wall in the far corner. The man was slumped over as though unconscious and a woman was caressing his cheek soothingly. He couldn't see her very well in the dim light offered from the room, but he could tell she had a stunning figure and long black hair. Her back was to him and he shuddered at the idea that it was Victoria. He moved back from the window as someone else entered, a large man that could only be described as a thug, Ray watched him say something to the woman the two left, after she reached down to give her prisoner a quick kiss. Ray saw that it was indeed Fraser, as she moved away from him, and his heart quickened. He quickly pushed away from the window, out of sight. He glanced up at Thatcher, who was still peering down at him.
         "He's in there." He reassured quietly. "I'm going in. If I'm not back out in five minutes go call for backup." She nodded and waved the cell phone he had given her, finally a woman who would take orders, he thought grinning. He slid across to the window again and found that the others had left. He pulled the window open and slipped up onto the ledge.
        "Benny!" he called quietly, but the man gave no response. Ray quickly pulled the remainder of the rope inside, so he could use it to get down, then quickly rushed to his friend. Fraser looked like he had been badly beaten, there were large bruises forming on his chest and arms, Ray could see through the open section of the Mounties shirt. He pulled down the blindfold and slapped his friend gently, at the same time examining the shackles that bound his partner to the wall. He felt his friend flinch at his touch, as conciseness roused him.
         "Ray?" whispered Fraser confused, his eyes trying to focus to sudden perception, and Ray smiled down at his friend's pained eyes, his hand remaining a moment longer on Fraser's cheek and it seemed like his partner turned his face toward the familiar hand reassuring he was real.
         "Don't worry Benny." He assured. "I'll have you out of here in a jif."
         "No, Ray." He refused, wincing as he tried to stand, though he was glad to see his friend, he knew his captors would return shortly and there was no way they could get Fraser's shackles off, aside from blasting them off with Ray's gun, which would be heard. Ray ignored him and went to work trying to pick the lock on the shackles. Fraser heard his captors returning, his hearing had become accustomed to them now.
         "Hide, Ray." He urged. "They're coming back." Ray started to duck behind one of the crates, then remembered the blindfold. He quickly slipped it back over Fraser's eyes and hid, just as the door across the room opened and a two large men entered again. Ray willed himself to be still, but he was ready to spring into action if need be, he wouldn't let them hurt Fraser again. They sneered at the Canadian, who was feigning unconsciousness, though he was still very close to passing out from the pain of his injuries. One of them grabbed a handful of his hair and hauled him to his feet, demanding he become awake. Fraser grimaced and tried to shake the large hand away.
         "Too bad the boss thinks you're so pretty." He commented. "I'd have a blast rearranging that face." Fraser didn't respond to his barb, so the man continued. "O'course she's interested in a few other things too, right Sal?" Fraser gasped as the man grabbed his nuts and squeezed hard. Fraser tried to kick out at him, but he didn't have the energy, until he heard Ray's voice from behind them.
        "Get yer filthy hands off'a him." demanded the Italian, fury mounting in his voice. He had stepped out from behind the crates with his gun drawn on the two men and was shocked to see what had caused his friend to gasp in such pain. "Step away from him, now!"  The two men obliged, backing toward the door.
         "Ray!" came Fraser's strangled voice from behind him.
         "Drop your weapon, detective." She demanded a firm voice and Ray glanced behind to find the woman who's back had been to him earlier, standing behind the Mountie, his body practically shielding hers, and holding a knife to Fraser's throat. She pulled Fraser's blindfold away. "I will kill him." she promised. Ray slowly lay his gun down and raised his hands toward her.
         "You don't wanna do that." He told her. "Any second this place will be swarming with cops. " He prayed he was right and Thatcher had made the call. "Ya got no where to go lady." She glared at him and instructed the two men to shut him up. Fraser flinched in sympathy as the two goons slapped Vecchio around.
         "Please." He managed. "Leave him alone, I'll do whatever you want." He knew the beating the men were capable and didn't want to take the chance of said beating killing the slimmer, possibly less tolerant detective. She eyed him warily, her pale features soft but determined, her pale gray eyes narrowing with suspicion. She told the men to stop and instructed one of them to release Fraser's shackles.
         "Don't try anything or I'll let them kill him." she warned the Mountie as he almost sagged against her, from being too long suspended.
         "Whatever you say." He promised quietly, surprised that she could support him, but then she was as tall as he was, a fact that also surprised Fraser. She pulled him with her, around Vecchio, the knife still at his throat, the other arm around his upper chest.
         "Move over there." She ordered Vecchio, who was still curled up on the floor from the beating.
         "Ah, bite me." He hissed, receiving a kick in the ribs from Sal for his belligerence.
         "Leave him." she said. "We're getting out of here." The two men kicked Vecchio's gun across the room and moved toward her, as she backed up to the door with Fraser. Ray was reaching for his spare gun, in his ankle holster, but only Fraser knew this, to the others he probably looked like he was curling up in pain.
         "Get your hands off my Constable!" demanded a voice behind the woman, as a pair of hands came out of the dark and grabbed the wrist that held the knife. Everything after that was a light blur of motion. Fraser dropped the minute the knife was ripped away from his throat, and rolled sluggishly back onto his feet, Ray shot at the man that was advancing on him, then training his gun on Sal, as Thatcher  attempted to wrestle the woman painfully to the ground.    The woman was taller and had the advantage, as she pushed Thatcher off of her and slashed at her with the knife, but Fraser managed to force himself between them and became dimly aware of the pain in his chest as the knife sliced through his skin.
         "NO!" the woman screamed as Fraser fell backwards from her assault, the knife still protruding from his chest, his eyes slightly glazed as he realized he'd been stabbed. She scrambled toward him but was quickly tossed aside by a furious Thatcher, who had reached the fallen Mountie in seconds.
         Sal was being thrown up against the wall by Vecchio, who quickly handcuffed him, then he also rushed toward Fraser, ignoring the other man was whimpering on the floor from the wound in his leg. Fraser, who was once again close to loosing consciousness, managed to lift a hand toward his superior officer and offer her a week smile as she cradled his head and stared down at him terrified.
         "You're Constable?" he repeated her words curiously and she blushed.
         "Yes, well...." She stammered, trying to quell the beating of her heart from the fear she had encountered when she saw that maniac holding a knife on Fraser. "Just you remember that in the future." She ordered, glancing at Ray, who was now beside her.
         "Benny." Ray said concerned, at the sight of the knife in his partner's chest, the woman was sobbing hysterically that she hadn't mean to hurt him. Fraser finally registered the detective.
         "Ray, I'm..I'm sorry about..."
         "Forget about it, Benny." Whispered Ray, affectionately stared into Fraser's pain filled eyes. "I have." Ray was surprised to find that he spoke the truth, he had forgiven Fraser, the moment he had thought he would never see his friend again, it had forced him to face the truth. Fraser had been right to do what he had done what needed to be done and they all turned on him. When they got out of here he would make it up to the softhearted Canadian.
        "Well, " remarked Ray, wryly. "At least it wasn't your leg." Fraser managed a weak smile, remembering his partner's coments on the many asaults he'd had on that particular limb. He'd been shot twice and stabbed in the same leg and Ray had wanted him to wear a note on his uniform that said 'Please shoot the other leg.' to give Frsaer a bit of variety. Pain racked fraser sudeenly and he gasped.
         "T..the knife, Ray." he managed and Ray nodded. He knew they wouldn't be able to move Fraser with the knife still in him, it might pierce something vital, if it hadn't already.
         "Hold on, Benny." He told him, glancing at Thatcher with trepidation, as he carefully placed his fingers around the handle of the blade. She nodded at him and tightened his grip on Fraser, enfolding one of her hands around his. Ray took a deep breath. "On three." Fraser nodded.
         "One." Marked Fraser. Ray's hand tightened as did his stomach.
         "Two."
         "Three." Gritted Fraser as Ray pulled the knife out as quickly as he could. A scream sounded, but Fraser was unaware it had come from his own lips, as darkness clouded around him. Thatcher was applying pressure to the wound, as a tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. A moment later the police burst in and Ray screamed for them to radio for an ambulance. Then he turned to Thatcher
         "Where the hell did you come from?" asked Vecchio, finally voicing the question that had rose to his lips earlier when he had first been aware of her presence.
         "I slipped inside after I called the police." She mentioned quietly, her attention never  wavering from Fraser's pale face.. "Just behind you, but before I could say a word, we had company so I just kept quiet."
         "I told you to stay on the roof and call for back up." He reminded miffed.
         "I did call for backup." She stated. "But if I had Fraser or you might be dead, Detective." Her eyes finally locked with his at her last words and her lower lip trembled and she glanced back down at the officer in her arms. As one of the officers handed the detective back his cuffs, while they escorted the two larger men out. The woman was not going quietly and Fraser managed to turn his head toward her.
         "About time you guys showed up." Ray taunted as they took the criminals into custody. The woman locked gazes with Fraser,
          "Why?" he asked her, before they could take her away. She smiled.
         "We're meant to be together." She surmised confidently. "And we will be, Fraser, sooner or later, you'll be mine." Fraser shuddered and turned away from her, her words echoing in his mind. She wasn't an unattractive woman, but she scared him and that wasn't something Fraser needed more of, like Victoria.  He found himself turning his face into the comfort of Thatcher's arms, his cheek resting against her chest.
         "Sir?" he whispered and she looked down at him.
         "Yes, Fraser?" she replied quietly, though her voice trembled.
         "I...I..." A spasm of pain shook him and he went ridged as Ray screamed again for an ambulance.
         "Later." She soothed, her fingers gently brushing his hair from his forehead. "We'll talk later. Just hang on, Ben. Hang on."
         "Understood." He muttered, just before he lost consciousness.
 

         Ray paced the hospital waiting room, Thatcher sat dejectedly in one of the chairs, Fraser's blood still on her shirt, though she had washed her hands. They had been there for almost three hours, waiting for news of Fraser. Francesca had arrived shortly after Ray had called her, and had elected to go to the cafeteria for coffee. Welsh had said to keep him posted.
         Ray was a mess, he kept thinking, what if Fraser died? What if he never had the chance to make up his unacceptable behavior toward the Mountie from the past week? What if  he never got to tell Benny how much is friendship meant to him, that he loved him? Fraser was on the verge of death with a knife in his chest and he had apologized to Ray for his actions, making Ray feel even worse than he already did. But, that was just like the Mountie, to take the blame for everything. Ray still had conflicts to resolve, guilt over Irene's death, over nearly putting Frank Zuko away for a crime he hadn't even committed, despite the things the gangster had done in the past. Ray was a cop, he became a cop to fight for justice and the law, and he had been on the verge of chucking everything because of his hatred for Zuko. The sad thing was his fellow officers supported his behavior. They had lost a fellow officer and nothing wounded a cop more than that, so although he understood their feelings, accepted them as being part of his own, they had been wrong; every damn one of them.
          Except Fraser, dear sweet, by the book Fraser, who was willing to once again give up the friendships he had made and the life he had led here in Chicago, for the side of justice. To Fraser, there was nothing more important and Ray had always admired that about him, had even started to feel the same, but he'd let Fraser down. He'd shown the Canadian a darker side of himself that Ray had rarely ever shown, yet Fraser accepted that part of him without hesitation. Although he still tried to convince Ray of the error of his ways, of his clouded thinking, there was no judgement in Fraser's eyes, only compassion and an urgent plea to listen to reason.
         "Detective Vecchio." Inquired a young doctor, entering the waiting room, still in his surgical gear. Thatcher was beside him in an instant.
         "How is he?" she demanded. "Is Fraser all right? Can we see him?" The Doctor held up a compliant hand, warning her to slow down and Thatcher was briefly surprised when she felt Ray's arm go around her shoulders for support.
         "He's resting peacefully right now." Assured the Doctor. "He made it through the surgery, though he hemorrhaged half way through, which was why it took so long to finish. The blade didn't pierce his heart, which was good, but it did claim one of the arteries close to it. Right now, we'll just have to wait and see. He is still in critical condition, but he is stable."
         "Can we see him?" requested Ray quietly, his hand now making slow, soothing motions across Thatcher's neck and shoulders; she was trembling. The Doctor nodded.
        "But only for a few minutes, I doubt he will awaken, he's probably still under the anastisia." Ray nodded as Francesca came in with their coffee. He briefed her and she followed them after the Doctor, leaving the coffee behind. They stopped at the window outside the ICU and stared in at Fraser, who was hooked to various machines and still unconscious. The Doctor warned them only one at a time, then wandered off.
         "You go ahead." He told Thatcher and she nodded. She walked slowly into the dim lit room, unable to help cringing at the pathetic sight of her dear Constable. She walked up to the bed and stared down at him, as though committing every detail of his face to memory. She carefully slipped her hand under his, watchful of the IV that was attached.
         "Well, you've certainly did it this time, Fraser." She scolded lightly, praying he could hear her and wake up, but not even his lashes moved. "You'll have to hurry and get better now, you know I can't count on Turnbull for anything. After all, you've been much worse scrapes than this, so just get with it and make yourself better, and I'll have loads of work for you to do when you're up and around again." Still no response. She bent and gently kissed his cheek, uncaring of the two people watching outside "Please get better, Ben. W..we can go for coffee, you'll enjoy that and I...maybe we could..talk. You did have something to say to me earlier and...and a gentleman wouldn't keep me waiting to hear it." Finally, she released his hand and left, allowing Francesca to take a turn, as she turned to address Ray.
         "I'm going to..." she paused, as though she wasn't sue what she was going to do. "I'm going to run home and change." She opted finally. "Then when I come back, you may go and retrieve some of Constable Fraser's things from his apartment." Ray nodded, uncaring if it did sound like an order, he was too worried about Fraser.
         "Fine." He agreed quietly, his gaze never wandering from the window. She nodded and started to walk away, but then she paused and put a hand on his arm. He glanced down at her, as though surprised by the contact.
         "He'll be okay." She assured softly, either for him or for her he was unsure. He offered her a small smile and patted her hand.
         "I know." He replied. "He's a fighter." She nodded again then left. She had only gone a few steps when Ray called out to her and she turned back to face him. He took a deep breath, as though forgetting what he was about to say. Finally he spoke.
          "I'll see you later." She nodded and walked away. Ray's gaze returned to the window, just as Francesca came out of the room, tears running down her face. "Why don't you go home?" he suggested. "Ma will be worried." He fished out a wallet. "Take a cab." She nodded and hugged him.
         "Call me if....." she broke off and sniffed again.
         "I will." He promised, watching her walk down the hall away from him as well. He turned to stare back in through the window. His guilt prevented him from going inside. If only he had agreed to talk to Fraser that day in the car, had gone to his apartment instead of the Consulate, his partner wouldn't have been staring out the window aimlessly, and might never seen the crime that urged him from the car. Ray knew that was stupid, Fraser noticed everything, he would have seen it regardless, and besides it was obviously orchestrated to catch the Mounties's attention. Still, he couldn't help feel guilty about it.
         He had seen the shudder that had past over Fraser's face when the woman claimed he was hers, she had frightened him, really frightened him and Ray wondered what she had done to evoke such a reaction from his friend. Fraser had been beaten before, had been threatened, shot, stabbed, you name it, but he had never seen fear in Benny's eyes, except for...His eyes shot toward the slumbering Mountie once more in shock. Victoria hadn't been the one who abducted him, and obviously Fraser had no idea who this other woman was, but she had been painfully protective of him. He remembered what one of the thugs had said, that she had wanted Fraser for...Again his eyes widened and his mouth went dry. Had she somehow molested Fraser-raped him? He couldn't imagine the horror of such a thing, for Fraser, who was barely able to form a complete sentence to a woman without blushing. Yet, the more he remembered, the more obvious it became. Fraser had been wearing different clothes and he had flinched away from Ray's touch before he realized who it was.
         "Aw, Benny." He whispered, placing a hand against the glass and willing himself not to cry. "Not that, please tell me they didn't do that to you." But of course Fraser could not hear him and he was still afraid too step into the room. This was all his fault, Ray thought shaking his head and lowering his eyes, if only he had listened to Fraser; if only they all had.
 

         Fraser woke up in bed and looked around at the many flowers and get well gifts that had been sent to him, and now filled the small hospital room. Briefly Fraser wondered if this was the same room as  he had been in the last time he was in the hospital, or the time before that, or the time before that. He grinned and shook his head in disbelief, he seemed to spend an awful lot of time here, the nurses all knew him by name and he was almost sure they were putting him in the same room.
         He eased himself into a sitting position, gasping in surprise at the stab of pain that seemed to go right to his heart, just as a tall, blond haired nurse wandered in. She rushed over to him and gently pushed him back down.
         "You'll open your stitches." She cautioned, carefully arranging his head on the pillow and Fraser was surprised that he had to steel himself no to shy away from her touch. "I'll raise your bed a little, but don't try to sit up, okay?" Fraser nodded and watched her press the controls that raised the upper portion of his bed.
         "Thank you kindly, Beatrice." He replied, remembering her name from his last visit. She smiled, delighted at his memory and returned to fluff his pillow some more, this time he did flinch away and she stared down at him concerned.
         "Did I hurt you, Ben?" she asked gently and Fraser shook his head.
         "No, I..I'm sorry." He repented. "I don't know why I did that." She smiled again and nodded.
         "Can I get you anything?" He shook his head. "Then let me take your vitals and I'll leave you be." She finished taking his pulse, blood pressure and temperature in record time, then she started to pull down his sheet. Fraser's grip tightened.
         "No." he refused and again she shot him a worried look.
         "I have to check your dressing." She explained. Of course she did, Fraser felt his cheeks grow warm and allowed her to pull back the sheet. What was wrong with him? He was on the verge of being rude to her and he was never like that. She checked the bandage on his chest and the area surrounding it, then nodded in satisfaction and pulled the sheet back over him. "Looks good, I'll have the Doctor take a look in a little while, make sure it's healing properly."
         "How long have I been asleep, Beatrice?" he asked her as she turned to leave.
         "About four days." She replied and he stared at her shocked. Good God! He's been here four days?! "You have a visitor, are you up to it?" He nodded.
        "Yes."  he agreed quietly. "Thank you kindly, Beatrice." He had expected it to be Ray and was surprised when Welsh walked in.
         "Good morning, Constable." He greeted cheerfully, coming to stand beside the bed. "I was just checking on you and they said you were awake."
         "Yes sir." Replied Fraser.
         "How do you feel?"
         "Much better I think." Offered Fraser and Welsh smiled.
         "That's good." He assured. "So, you'll soon be up and around and back at the precinct getting Vecchio in more trouble then, hey?"
         "I hope not, Sir." Sighed Fraser. "I don't mean to get him into trouble, it.."
         "Just seems to find you, I know Fraser, I know." Chuckled Welsh.
         "Yes, Sir." Blushed Fraser. "H..How is Ray?" Welsh's smile faltered.
         "Keeping busy, you know Vecchio." Replied the Lieutenant. Fraser nodded.
         "Understood." He granted quietly. Welsh nodded decisively.
         "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better, Fraser." He offered. "I've gotta get back to the precinct but I'll let them know how you're doing."
         "Thank you kindly, Sir."
 

         Ray stepped out of the elevator, carrying a large stuffed Bambi-the closest thing he could find to a moose or caribou on short notice, and headed for Fraser's room. A loud crash followed by a woman's scream sounded from up ahead and Ray dropped the gift and pulled out his gun. He slid to a halt just outside Fraser's door, as a nurse and orderly attempted to get the thrashing Mountie under control. Ray holstered his weapon and stepped inside.
         "What the hell's goin' on?" he demanded.
         "Ray!" Fraser called to him, panicked. "Don't let them, Ray! Please!" Ray pushed the other's away from him and was surprised when Fraser threw his arms around him, hiding his face against Ray's dress shirt.
         "He's ripped his stitches!" declared the head nurse, Beatrice. "Shana was trying to change his IV and he went wild." Ray glanced at the stream of blood running down the front of Fraser's gown, then over at the terrified nurse hunched in the corner.
         "What happened, Benny?" he asked the trembling man in his arms, gently.
         "She was kissing me, Ray." He sobbed. "I woke up and she...I can't..No!" Ray glared at the woman who had turned a bright crimson.
         "Is that true?" he demanded. She nodded shakily.
         "I..it was just an innocent peck," she defied nervously. "He..he's so handsome and he was asleep I..I didn't think..." Beatrice spoke up.
         "You are dismissed, Nurse." She informed coldly. The nurse practically ran from the room and Beatrice sent the orderly out as well. She reached for Fraser's arm but he flinched from her and hung closer to Ray.
         "It's okay, now Benny." Ray soothed. "She's gotta change yer IV and you've torn yer stitches. Let her help you." Fraser shook his head.
         "I can't Ray." He whimpered. "Please..I can't."
         "I'll stay here and make sure she doesn't do anything you don't want her to, okay, Benny?" promised Ray and finally Fraser nodded, he seemed to be regaining some of his control, though he was still shaking.
         Beatrice quickly switched out his IV and reinserted the needle into his arm, then checked on the wound on his chest.
         "You've torn five stitches, Ben." She scolded gently. "Let me get the doctor to come and fix them, okay?" Fraser nodded and she handed Ray a thick cloth and placed it and his hand over the wound. "Detective, if you'll just apply pressure there I'll be right back." Ray nodded and placed his hand firmly to Fraser's chest. After a moment or two, Fraser released him and settled back against the pillows wearily, though Ray's hand continued the pressure. Fraser's skin was pale and shiny from sweat, his normally clear eyes were glazed over in a kind of self-induced haze, but he had stopped shaking.
         "I'm sorry, Ray." He murmured, his eyes closing momentarily against the pain he was now aware of in his chest. "I..I don't know why I reacted like that."
         "I do." Muttered Ray, averting his eyes to hide his rage. "She raped you, didn't she Benny?" Fraser glanced at him stunned, then turned his eyes to the window.
         "I... I don't know what you mean, Ray." He denied quietly.
         "Benny, talk to me." The detective encouraged, he'd worked with rape victims before, though it was harder knowing it was his own partner that was the victim. "It isn't your fault. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Benny." Fraser seemed to fold inside himself, as he continued to stare remotely out the window.
         "I don't want to talk about it, Ray." He stated firmly.
         "But, Benny..."
         "No, Ray!" Fraser frowned and finally turned back to meet his friend's gaze. "Please, I...not now." Ray nodded, a sense of déjà vu enfolding him as he remembered himself saying similar words to Fraser just a few days ago.
         "Okay, Benny." He agreed. "When yer ready, I'll wait." Fraser nodded and looked away again as the Doctor entered. Ray stepped back and let the Doctor repair Fraser's stitches, watching as his friend didn't even flinch as the wound was cleaned and then a special stapler applied to the broken skin.
         He had been working overtime, trying to get information out of Vanessa Harris, the woman who had kidnapped Fraser, but she was claming insanity and they refused to let Ray talk to her. Ray didn't doubt she had a few marbles loose, but he had to know what she had done to Fraser, and the idea that she would avoid a conviction because of her insanity plea, left a sour taste in the detective's mouth. Her cronies were of little help either, each pleading guilty to kidnapping, assault and attempted murder, since one of them had shot at Fraser when he'd sprang from the window and grazed his temple with the bullet, but neither spoke of what transpired between their boss and the Mountie. The idea that the woman might be free in less than a year worried him, especially now after seeing the aftermath of her effects on Fraser.
         He glanced over at Fraser, who had apparently been given a sedative by the Doctor and was now half-asleep. Ray walked over, after the Doctor had retreated and stared down at his friend. Fraser's eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm. Ray debated telling Beatrice and the Doctor of his suspicions. It would embarrass and frighten Fraser, but he had to do what was best for him, he couldn't allow another outburst to occur. He smiled grimly, this must have been how Fraser had felt when he decided to go against Ray and clear Zuko, and that caused the detective to immediately sympathize with his friend, who had done the right thing when Ray could not. Now it was up to him to do the right thing for Fraser, regardless of the anger that would no doubt follow when Fraser found out. He sighed and went to find the Doctor.
 
 
 

         Ray stepped outside the City Council Building, for the soul purpose of purchasing some cherry flavored throat drops for the Mountie that was determined to hold the podium inside Council's chambers. He knew his partner could talk forever if need be, but he also knew Fraser would need additional support. Mackenzie King was trying to arrange for a TV crew to come down and cover the Mounties's speech, but they both knew that without an audience it would hold little interest for Chicago citizens. Fraser had put his all on the line to fight Taylor, the landlord that was trying to evict the tenants of Fraser's building so he could tear down the block and build condominiums.  He had almost died in a plummeting elevator because Taylor's goons had cut the cables and Fraser had been trying to save a mother and daughter trapped inside, and now the Mountie was taking on City Hall.
         Ray smirked, that was his partner, one man against the world, despite the odds. He was actually glad for Fraser's new project, it was the first time he had seen Benny passionate about something since his abduction almost a month ago. Although Ray had thought Fraser would be angry with him for reveling his suspicions about being sexually assaulted, but the Mountie almost seemed almost relieved when a counselor came to speak to him. Although he never spoke to Ray about anything that had happened or how he was feeling. Ray had met the counselor, that Fraser was seeing twice a week, and had immediately liked the young man, yet he couldn't help feel a little jealous of the fact that Fraser could confide in a stranger and not his partner. Ray had not told anyone else about what had happened to Fraser, and the Mountie for the most part seemed like his old self.
         He glanced over at the people across the street, and thought about Fraser who was now inside confronting city hall to listen to him. He needed support. Ray sighed and pulled a wad of money from his pocket; his savings for the new Rivera he had found and his cousin Al was fixing up for him. He couldn't believe that he had managed to find a third one, but then if not for Fraser he would never have lost the other two. That wasn't truly fair, Fraser wasn't responsible for the bomb that killed Gardino and destroyed Ray's car. His decision made he started calling out to the people.
         "Hey! Anybody wanna make an easy fifty?" No takers. "Okay a hundred then." That got their attention and some of the people started flowing toward him. "All ya gotta do is listen to some Canadian quote an American Revolutionary."
         "Which revolutionary?" one man asked, accepting one of the proffered bills.
         "Like it makes a difference?" snorted Ray, as more approached. The man shrugged and headed inside, the hundred-dollar bill grasped firmly in his hand. He handed out quite a bit of cash, then headed inside to catch a few stragglers. Just outside chambers, an older man asked him.
         "You always give money away?" Ray shrugged.
         "This is better than money." he told him. "This is a 1972 Buick Rivera, or what's left of it." The man took the bills and shook his head, turning back before he entered the chambers.
         "You should've kept the money." Ray glanced at him thoughtfully, then at the remaining currency in his hand. His beautiful car, the one he worked so hard for, his dream car, the love of his life. His eyes raised toward the chamber door, as he dimly heard Fraser still speaking, and he shook his head. It was worth it, well worth it. It was for Benny.
 
 

        Ray jumped out of the Rivera he had convinced Al to sell to him for the measly grand he had left, and headed up the steps of the older-city stone building. Benny was in a session today and Ray wanted to surprise him by taking him to lunch and of course with the car. He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the third floor then rounded the corner and entered the Counselor's office. Peggy, the secretary smiled as he entered.
         "They're almost done." She told him warmly. Ray nodded and walked past her to get to the bathroom. He passed the Counselor's office and noticed that the door was ajar. Against his better judgement, he moved closer and glanced inside, shocked to find Benny wrapped in the man's arms. Fraser rarely let people hug him, except Ma Vecchio and of course ray on occasion, and here he was in the arms of a complete stranger. Something stirred inside Ray, and he was unsure if it was anger or jealousy or fear that he was loosing his friend.
         "Thank you kindly, Keith." Fraser was saying, stepping back from the younger man's embrace and smiling down at him. The tall, blond returned the smile and patted Fraser's cheek affectionately.
         "You're welcome, Benton." He returned. "Although I still think you need more of these on a regular basis." Fraser shrugged and stepped back.
         "That isn't an option, but thank you anyway." Keith frowned.
         "Now Fraser, remember what we discussed. You have to let yourself feel these things or you'll never get past it." He reached up and patted Fraser's cheek affectionately. "But for now, you're welcome to come to me for a hug any time." Fraser grinned.
         "Albert may be a bit upset over that." He commented, donning his Stetson and pulling on his leather jacket. He was in casual attire today, blue jeans' boots and plain shirt. Keith waved a hand at him.
         "Pish tosh, I'll handle Albert." He assured. Ray could hear no more, he quickly returned to the lobby and tried to quell the rising tide of emotions within him. A moment later Fraser approached him.
         "Ray!" he greeted surprised. "How are you? I..I didn't expect to see you here today." Ray swallowed his anger.
         "Thought we might grab a bite to eat, Benny." He offered as Fraser wished Peggy goodbye and headed out behind the detective. "My treat. Anywhere ya wanna go."
         "That's very kind of you, Ray." Returned Fraser as they headed down the stairs. "Any where is fine with me."
         "So, how did it go?" asked Ray as they stepped outside and Fraser saw the Rivera.
         "Oh Ray!" he exclaimed pleased. "The car looks wonderful. I'm so happy for you." Ray got in and Fraser followed.
         "Yah, thanks." He replied absently, the car was no longer on his mind. "So, listen I thought we might eat, talk, ya know spend some time together." Fraser's smile slipped.
         "Oh, I..well I don't know, Ray." He stammered. "Let's eat first and see how it goes from there." He offered the Italian a weak grin. "I'm about talked out actually."
         "Yah, I'll bet." Retorted Ray under his breath.
         "Pardon, Ray?" inquired Fraser politely. Ray shook his head.
         "Nothin'." He deflected pulling out into traffic as Fraser pulled on his seat belt. "Ya know Benny, I....I'd really like to talk if yer up to it though. We haven't had the chance to visit much lately and I...well I'd like yer company."
         "I..well, of course Ray." Fraser allowed quietly. "If your prefer we can...we can talk."
         "What's wrong, Benny?"
         "Wrong? I don't understand, Ray."
         "You seem like yer nervous around me or somethin'." Observed Ray. "What's goin' on?" Fraser remained silent for a moment. "I'm yer best friend, aren't I?" Fraser nodded. "Then how come you can talk to that Keith guy and not me?"
         "It..it's not that Ray," Fraser defended uneasily.  "I just...it's difficult to...well to explain."
         "Why can't you talk to me, Huh Benny?" he demanded. "You can talk to a perfect stranger but not your partner, not your best friend?"
         "Ray, I.." Fraser was looking more and more anxious and Ray knew he should stop but he couldn't.
         "I saw ya huggin' him, Fraser." He accused sourly. "What's that all about? Do Counselors always hug their clients? Have ya been turned completely off women and now yer goin' to men? Is that it Benny? I'm a man, why not me, Benny, huh? Why don't you try me on fer size?" Fraser stared at him in shock.
        "Ray...what are you saying?" he asked weakly, surprised at his partner's sudden vehemence "I'm not...there isn't anything...Keith is just helping me sort out some things I would never...he has a partner..um lover..er m..mate already...I'm not interested in...Ray?" Ray took his eyes off the road only long enough to glance over and see the fear and confusion on his partner's face. Fraser lowered his eyes. "You're...you're not gay are you, Ray? I...I mean if you are that would be fine, it makes no difference to me, but I...Ray I don't understand."
         "No, Benny." Denied Ray finally. "I'm not gay."
         "Then w..why would you....?" Fraser was staring at him with such a forlorn expression Ray almost had to stop himself from laughing aloud.
         "I..I don't know." He admitted. "I saw ya all cozy with Keith back there and somethin' just snapped." He shook his head. "I'm not sayin' I wanna have sex with ya Benny, I just..." He released a deep breath. "I'm just sayin' that emotionally, I would want you to pick me over him. I know it's crazy but..well I guess I got a little jealous of you being tight with someone else." Fraser continued to observe him quietly, though the panic in his face was now one.
         "I would, Ray." He assured quietly, causing Ray too glance at him startled and then he flushed. "I... I mean if I...well, if I had the..er.. urgings to be with a...a man I would only pick you."
         "Really, Benny?" Ray asked both pleased and surprised. Fraser nodded.
         "Of course, Ray." He assured. "There is no one else I am closer to than you." As an after thought he added. "However I'm not saying I am homosexual, simply that if I were..."
         "I gottcha, Benny." Ray countered. "And thanks. But then why won't you talk to me? Is it because yer still mad at me for the way I treated ya?" Ray had to know. He knew he was pushing but he had too know. "Is this like my punishment for putting you through so much?"
         "No Ray." Denied Fraser quickly. "I...I was never upset with you over that, I understood you're anger at me."
         "But you didn't deserve it, Benny.
         "I..well I know you felt I betrayed you, Ray and I..." managed Fraser and stopped when Ray reached across to put a hand on his arm, Ray was thankful that for the first time in a month the Canadian  didn't flinch away from his touch.
         "I was wrong, Benny." He stated and was surprised when an ocean of relief flooded him for finally having said the words. "We all were wrong and we had no right to treat you like that. I'm sorry. You asked if I could forgive you, but you never told me if you had forgiven me, Benny."
         "I..there's nothing to forgive, Ray, I..."
         "Benny, there is." Assured the detective, his hand moving back to the wheel as he pulled into a local restaurant parking lot and shut off the engine. He turned to Fraser. "I'm asking you to forgive me, Benny. For not listening to you, for being an asshole, for not doing' my job for hurting you." He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat as he realized just how cruel he had been to the Canadian. "For betraying your trust and your loyalty and for almost destroying our friendship; cause I need you to be a part of my life, Benny. You're my best friend and I love you, man, and I'm so sorry I hurt you." Fraser stared at him quietly, for what seemed like forever, then he reached over and embraced the detective that had come to mean so much to him. Ray was pleasantly startled and hugged him back.
         "Of course I forgive you, Ray." He whispered, silently admitting that perhaps Keith was right and that he did need a few more hugs in his diet, they made one feel amazingly secure and treasured. "I..I love you as well." He pulled back enough that he could capture his partner's gaze. "But please, Ray. Don't ever scare me with a proposition like that again." Ray laughed and lightly punched Fraser's arm, shoving him away. Fraser chuckled and it felt so good to see Ray smiling at him.
         "Com'on then, Partner." He emphasized the last word with a leering look at the Canadian, and again Fraser smiled. "Let's get something to eat."
 

         Shortly after they finished dinner, Ray pulled up outside Fraser's apartment building. Fraser quickly exited the vehicle, mentioning he wound need to feed Diefenbaker. Ray followed. Once inside Fraser's apartment, after the wold had been taken care of, Fraser turned to Ray.
         "I thank you for the ride and the dinner, Ray. I'm quite tired now and..."
         "I'm not leavin' until we talk, Benny." Ray watched a multitude of expressions pass over the Mounties's face before it became quietly passive.
         "I believe we did talk, Ray." He reminded . "In the car."
         "Yah." Agreed Ray nodding, as Fraser hung up his jacket and Ray removed his own coat and draped it across the chair. "But not about everything."
         "What else did you wish to discuss?"
         "Tell me what happened, Benny." Encouraged Ray softly. Fraser turned his back to him with the pretense of making tea.
         "Would you like some tea or coffee, Ray?" he offered. "I'm sure I have..."
         "No Benny." He interrupted. "I just want you to talk to me." He watched Fraser's posture become even more rigid if that was possible and the muscle in his jaw twitched.
         "I can't think of anything to say, Ray."
         "Tell me what you tell Keith then." Suggested the detective. "Tell me what that woman did to you, Fraser."
         "She kidnapped me, Ray." Fraser evaded. "You already know that."
         "What did she do to you while you were there, Benny?"
         "N..Nothing, Ray. Her men knocked me around a bit, but I..." Ray walked over to stand behind his partner.
         "I saw the way you looked at her, Benny." He insisted. "She terrified you, now talk to me buddy, tell me what happened." Fraser flinched away from the hand Ray dropped lightly on his shoulder, and moved away toward the window.
         "I really don't want to talk about this, Ray." He declined, his jaw set determinedly, as he folded his arms across his chest almost protectively.
         "Tough, do it anyway." Commented Ray belligerently. "Look, I already have an idea of what that bitch did, I was the one who told you to see a counselor, remember?" He sighed, trying to curb his frustration. "I just think you need to talk about it, get it off your chest and not just to some kid with a degree. Talk to me, I'm your friend and I want to help you."
         "No, Ray."
         "Why the hell not? Do you think I'm gonna be disgusted or ashamed of you? It wasn't yer fault Benny. For Christ sakes we've both seen each other in worse scrapes, or haven'' you forgotten Victoria?" Fraser's head shot up at the mention of her name.
          "This isn't like that, Ray." He protested, Ray finally getting him to at least open up a little. "This was....I just can't talk about it!" Ray was surprised and glad when Fraser's voice rose slightly at the end, in meant he was getting through to him.
         "Then tell me what it was like." He pressed. "Did she hurt you? Did you hurt her? Did you hate it love it, what?" Ray was shocked at his own words, but his cruelty had a purpose. Fraser had shown none of the emotional signs of a victim, other than that one time at the hospital over a month ago. He was closing himself off and Ray knew eventually the pain and anger would fester and explode at the least opportune time, he couldn't hold it in forever. Better to force it to the top then let it chip away at the already vulnerable Mountie.
         "Stop it, Ray." Requested Fraser firmly. "You don't understand..."
         "Then make me understand, Fraser." Ray stalked over to the Canadian and roughly pulled him around to face him. "You must have liked it, you act like it never even happened so it mustn't have bothered you." Fraser shook him away.
         "Of course it bothered me!" he declared and Ray finally heard a hint of anger in his voice, although the Mounties's eyes were turning a stormy blue and if the Canadian decided to get physical, Ray could only hope he'd survive long enough to apologize to his friend.
         "Then prove it damnit!" yelled Ray. "Show me, show somebody. Get mad get angry, hell do something, just don't accept it like you've been doing."
         "You don't know...." Fraser began pushing away from him, but Ray surprised him by throwing him up against the wall and pinning him there.
         "I don't know what, Benny?" he demanded angrily. "That she probably fucked you, that you probably enjoyed it and it's only your stupid Canadian assed moral code preventing you from admitting it? Is that what I don't know, Benny? Would you have stayed with her too, like Victoria? Would you have risked you're life to keep the sex coming?" Ray was only partially surprised by the blow that knocked him half way across the room. He pushed himself up on one elbow and rubbed his jaw, glancing up at Fraser's wide and frightened eyes. He watched his partner's look of horror turn to grief as he covered his face with his hands and slid slowly down the wall to the floor, like someone letting the air out of a tire.
         "Oh GOD!" he sobbed and Ray crawled over to him. "Ray I..my God I never...." He was shaking his head emphatically as Ray pulled the shaking man into his arms.
         "It's okay, Benny." He soothed. "Just let it out. Get angry. Cry, what ever you need to do, do it." Fraser pushed him away and pulled himself up.
         "I..I can't." he gulped as Ray stood up. "I..I'm afraid to..."
         "You're afraid you won't be able to control it." Surmised Ray and Fraser nodded. "Don't try to, Benny. Let it out for God's sake. Just let it go."
         "I..Ray, please..." Fraser turned away, his fingers gripping the edge of his desk so tightly his knuckles were white. Ray didn't understand, when Fraser allowed his control to slip he thought himself a monster. He had let his anger rage once before when he was younger, before he trained himself to swallow the rage, he had almost killed a man. He couldn't allow himself to set that demon free, yet Ray was unrelenting.
         "I'm not leaving, Benny." The detective told him, as though sensing what Fraser had been about to say. "We can get through this, together, you and me." Fraser shook his head, his tricks were staring to work he could feel himself mellowing. Ray sensed his partner's withdrawal as well and stalked over to him, grabbing him by the shirt collar and shaking Fraser until his teeth rattled.
         "R...Ray s..stop!"
         "Make me." Dared Ray, determined the Mountie would get a release one way or the other, even if it was over his own dead body. Fraser struggled lightly, applying pressure to his partner's wrists, as though in warning, but Ray  didn't falter. He shoved Fraser against the wall again, though tears sprang to his eyes as he did it, and pressed his body against the Canadian's. "Was this what she did, Benny? Did she touch you? Did she kiss ya? Did you kiss her back? Tell me, Benny, do ya like it rough?"
         "That's enough, Ray." Inforced Fraser and Ray really had to struggle to hold on to him now.
         "Was it exciting, Fraser?" he continued unrelenting. "Did she get ya off or did you do it together?" Ray could no longer hold, the taller, stronger Canadian, and was prepared when Fraser finally shoved him away, he remained standing, barely. Fraser stared at him, his breathing matching Vecchio's short breaths from their struggle.
         "NO!" he screamed at him. "I hatted it! She....I couldn't stop her. I couldn't make her leave me alone and I don't even understand why she did it?" Tears were chorusing down Fraser's cheeks. "Why, Ray? Why did she do it? Why did she pick me? Why couldn't I stop her? Why wasn't I strong enough to resist?" He was sobbing now as he leaned against the desk for support. "Why did my body respond to her? I..I still see her in my dreams and I..I can't seem to get h..her touch..it burns my skin and I can't get it off!" Fraser was sinking to the floor again and Ray moved to catch him, this time Fraser turned into his partner's embrace.
         "It's gonna be okay, Benny." He promised choking back his own tears. Fraser shook his head and hung on to Ray like he was a lifeline.
         "I close my eyes and she's there, Ray." He whispered. "I can't sleep I'm afraid to go anywhere alone I can't..I feel so helpless so..scared all the time." Ray nodded, it was customary for a victim to have feelings of fear and paranoia after an assault, though he had never imagined Fraser would be one of them.
         "She can't hurt you anymore, Benny." He soothed. "She's gonna be locked up for a long time." Ray knew he was lying, the woman was still fighting for an insanity plea and even then she might only get six months to a year in a mental hospital. Fraser had not asked about her before now, but Ray felt it his duty to try an sooth his friend's fears. Hell, he now had two women stalking his friend, he wasn't surprised Fraser was having nightmares and shied away from other women.
         "T..the things she did, Ray. I..I can't..I can't stop thinking about them and I feel so ashamed when I...when I'm thinking about them I get sick but I..."
         "They also kinda turn you on?" suggested Ray, knowing that too was a common side effect in rape victims. The body's natural response to certain stipulations couldn't always be ruled out because the assault came unwillingly.
         "Not that exactly just..." Fraser shook his head. "I feel so filthy for thinking..."
         "It's natural, Fraser." He assured quickly. "Keith should have told you that."
         "I..I haven't told Keith about this, Ray." Confessed Fraser quietly and Ray couldn't help the surge of pride that rose in him.
         "Maybe you should, he can help too." Fraser nodded and finally sat up away from him.
        "Tired, Benny?" Fraser nodded, and Ray didn't doubt it. "Let's get you to bed, then."
 

        Ray walked into the 27th precinct, with Fraser following close behind. A quiet settled over the squadroom, for it had been only the second time Fraser had made an appearance since the incident with Zuko. Fraser lowered his eyes slightly and walked with ray to his desk, surprised when Elaine approached and offered him a small smile. He nodded at her, puzzled, then continued with Ray. Ray had pulled open his desk drawer, the silence in the room now was deafening, and the detective was fighting to control his temper. How dare they do this to Fraser! Fraser had probably saved most of their hides a hundred times over, not to mention the arrest record he had helped set for the precinct and now they were treating him like dirt. Finally he could take it no more, no more silence, no more Fraser's acceptance, and no more guilt. Vecchio picked up the first thing he could find, which happened to be a ceramic coffee mug from his desk and threw it savagely against the wall, causing everyone to stare at him in shock.
         "You're all a bunch of assholes!" he declared angrily, despite the restraining arm Fraser placed on his arm. "We lost a good cop, I lost a dear friend and almost lost my partner because of blind hatred. Hasn't there been enough misery? Can't you people accept that we were wrong?"
        He glared at Dewey, who was shifting uncomfortably now. "Louis was a good man and a good cop. Do you think he would have wanted an innocent man convicted of his murder, even if that man was a scum bag like Zuko?" He glanced at a few of the others, whose uneasy attention he now held. "Can any of you honestly say Fraser was wrong in what he did, just because he didn't become part of the hanging mob? Louey was his friend too, he tried to get to him before he died, and don't you think he feels bad that he couldn't reach him in time? Don't any of you give a damn about Louey's memory or the reason we al became cops? Well I do, and I'm not going to let a bunch of hypocritical jerk-off's demean it any more. You got me?"
        Everyone stared at him, even Welsh, usually adamant about emotional outbursts in his station, was remaining silent, his large arms folded across him thoughtfully. "So get over it, all or you. If you don't like Fraser, fine but you'd better damn well show him the respect he deserves, the same respect he as always shown all of you, or you'll have me to contend with, clear?"
         It seemed no one was willing to take on the Italian's challenge, and after a moment, Dewey stepped up to Fraser and offered his hand.
         "Sorry, Fraser." He offered quietly as Fraser readily accepted his apology and handshake. "I was pretty messed up over Louis, no hard feeling's okay?"
         "Of course not." Forgave Fraser easily, offering him a small smile. "I understand perfectly Thomas. I miss Louis as well." The man nodded, gave Fraser a pat on the shoulder and turned back to his desk. Many others filtered over to offer an apology to the Canadian, some even cracking a joke about if he wanted to take them outside and teach them a thing or two about manners. Fraser of course, declined, having no desire to "pound some sense" into any of them as one fellow had offered. Welsh glanced at Vecchio ho was smiling smugly.
         "Vecchio!" he called from where he was.
         "Yes, Sir?" returned Ray quickly, sensing a lecture coming on. Welsh indicated the shattered cup that lay close to his feet.
         "Clean up yer mess."
         "Yes, Sir." Ray hurried over to scoop up the broken pieces as Elaine offered him the broom and dustpan.
         "Vecchio?" questioned Welsh as an after thought and waited for the detective to glance up at him dutifully. "That was department property, it's coming out of yer pay."
         "Understood, Sir." Agreed Ray, hiding his grin by concentrating on making a neat little pile of the shards. Fraser was suddenly behind him, offering him a dustpan, as always ready to help him clean up a mess he had made.
         "That's very good, Ray." He commented as Ray pushed the pieces onto the dustpan with the broom. Ray grinned at him and nodded.
         "A clean sweep, Benny." He offered, dropping the pieces into the closest garbage pail, thinking how it represented all the miscommunication and hurt between him and the Mountie. They would be okay.
 
 

THE END