This is my very first DS fanfic and for some reason I keep hearing Ray's
voice in my head, so it's a Ray K  POV.

Picks up pretty much right after Strange Bedfellows, so spoilers for
that ep. 

Very mild slash warning.  At this point in my fanfic writing, even Ray
and Fraser don't know what's going on, but a warning nonetheless.  

Usual disclaimers, heard it all before : they don't belong to me, but
I'd share if they did. 

Not beta'ed, so all mistakes (and triumphs :) mine.

Feedback would be much appreciated at movigrrl@hotmail.com.

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The Storm Breaks

Jennifer Allen 14/04/00

I ditched Fraser in the apartment building for one reason.  Cause I didn't
want to be with anyone.  I think I was afraid I'd either get all angry
or I'd get all emotional, and I didn't want to be around Fraser if either
happened.  So, I zigged when he zagged and went out to the car and took
off.  

I burned almost a full tank of gas on just driving around, not really
thinking, just doing that free-getting-together thing, umm . . . association.
I stopped at some greasy diner and had a bite of some greasy fries and
hamburger, but could really only choke down coffee.  Then I didn't really
have anywhere to go, so I went home.  To my empty apartment.  Well, almost
empty, although I've never had a good conversation with Rabbit, the turtle.

So, I tried listening to music, but that just made me think of Stella.
I thought about going to bed, but I wouldn't be able to sleep.  And I
thought about going to the station, but that would just make Welsh send
me to a doctor.  Or a shrink.  So, I decided to do what Fraser says he
does when he needs to clear his head.  I went for a walk.

It was still hot in my apartment, so, I left my jacket, gun and holster
in the apartment.  When I got on the street, I realized I didn't really
have anywhere to walk to, so I turned right and started walking.  I didn't
really watch where my feet went, just made sure I wasn't walked into
anything that would hurt me, like a car or the street or a crack dealer.
I walked and walked and walked, but it didn't really do anything except
make my feet sore. 

Then all of a sudden, my feet stopped.  I just looked at them for the
minute it took me to realize I wasn't moving anymore.  And then I looked
around to see why my feet had stopped. I wasn't really surprised to see
I was outside of the Canadian Consulate.  Fraser's home.  I stood there
for a few minutes, just looking.

I had a little argument with myself about whether I should go in or not,
but then my feet decided on their own and I was at the door.  I thought
about letting myself in again, but finally decided I'd poked my nose
in too many places the last few days to do it again.  I knocked twice,
lightly. I think I was half hoping Fraser wouldn't hear. 

I waited a couple of minutes and had gone down a couple of the steps
to let my sore feet take me home, when the door opened.  

"Ray!  What are you doing here?"  Fraser asked, his voice a little low,
like he was afraid of waking the neighbours or something.

"I just . . . Never mind, Frase.  It's nothin'.  I shouldn't have bothered
you." 

"No, Ray, I didn't mean . . . Will you please come in?"

I looked at the dimly-lit Consulate, all official looking, but still
homey and welcoming, and then I looked at Fraser, the guy who made it
seem homey and welcoming.  He was looking at me, a little frown of concern
on his face, and his eyes were searching mine, trying to find what waswrong.

And, ya know, I was standing there looking at him and I suddenly realized
why I was drawn to Fraser.  Drawn like an iron to a magnet or a bee to
a flower, for its whatsit, pollen.  I was standing there, and my brain
was half-fried from not sleeping for two days and I figured it out. 
We're alike.  Not totally and not on the outside, but on the inside,
where it mattered.  We needed each other cause we're that thing, ummm,
kindred.  And I think we both know it and we both know that we can help
each other.

So, I nodded and went back up those two steps.  Fraser smiled and I felt
a kind of sappy, glowy-thing when I realized that he was happy I was
there.  I looked at him again and realized he was barefoot (which was
kind of weird), but he was all buttoned up and everything.  So maybe
he was having a tough time sleeping tonight, too.  

I got inside and said hello to Dief, who had definitely been sleeping,
judging from the huge I-could-eat-you-in-one-bite-if-I-so-choose yawn
I got.  When I straightened up from rubbing his ears, I could feel Fraser
behind me, kind of hovering, like he was afraid I'd shatter on the floor.
Well, maybe he wasn't too far off on that.  I did feel kind of ragged
around the edges.

I turned around, and, yup, he was right there, that concerned look on
his face. 

"Are you alright, Ray?" Fraser asked, still quiet-like.

"I'm good," I said, but then my feet went back to work and took a step
so I was in his personal space.  And, ya know, it felt good.  I feel
better the closer I get to Fraser.  And, yes, I've thought that through
to the end, and, no, I haven't really thought about it.  Wow, that made
no sense at all.  You know what I mean.

So, I was standing there, just being beside Fraser and he didn't look
like he minded any.  Fraser was just kind of standing there with me,
quiet for once.

And then my feet were finished the coffee break or whatever they were
on and they took another step, so I just naturally opened up my arms
and then I was hugging Fraser.  I let me head fall on his chest and,
as I listened to his strong heartbeat, I realized that it all felt right.

Fraser stayed still just long enough for me to wonder if maybe he didn't
think it felt right, then he kind of folded me in and his long arms were
wrapped all around me.  It was like I was in a Fraser cocoon.  And if
I thought hugging Fraser felt good, being hugged back was exper . . .
expi . . . exponentially better.  By, like, tonnes.

Fraser was all warm and I hadn't realized how cold I'd gotten walking
outside with just a t-shirt on.  I shivered a bit as I started to warm
up and Fraser just squeezed me tighter and started doing this circular,
rubbing thing on my back.  Swear to god, I just about melted into my
boots.  I hadn't been held like that in years.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, standing together in the entranceway
of the Consulate.  Finally, slowly, like he was reluctant, Fraser put
his hands on my shoulders and pushed me away a little so he could look
at me.  He kind of ducked his head a little and looked me in the eyes,
trying to see if I was going to fall apart, I guess.  He smiled this
sweet, tender smile that almost melted me again and said, "Would you
like a cup of tea, Ray?" 

So I smiled back at him and just nodded, cause I didn't really trust
my voice.  Not that I was going to cry or anything, it just wasn't working
too well.

But then Fraser pulled me back in for a little hug that, I could tell,
was meant as a strengthening hug.  But it did the opposite with me and
I just broke down.  It was like Fraser flipped a switch in me and all
my grief that I never expressed about the divorce came out, all my sadness
and loneliness over losing Stella, all my loneliness from being undercover
and I think even some of my sadness and anger over my parents leaving
came out.  And all those feelings didn't come out in manly ways like
in boxing or getting drunk or anything like that, no, they came out in
about a gallon of tears on Fraser's soft, flannel, really quickly wet
shirt.

I don't know who was more shocked, me or Fraser.  I wouldn't have blamed
him if he had turned and run out into the night as fast as he could,
but then I remembered how he had smiled at me and I knew he wouldn't
do that.  Not to me.

It took him a few seconds, he is a guy after all, but he's Frase, too,
so he adjusted.  Mentally, I mean, and then physically, so I was all
wrapped up in warm  Fraser again and he was doing that rubbing thing
again and I knew it was alright.  So, I just hung on to Fraser and rode
it out, until I was all cried out.

And I mean all cried out.  Like I said, at least a gallon.  I was down
to a trickle and little hiccups when I was kind of able to think again.
And Fraser started walking me backwards, kind of like dancing.  I wasn't
in any shape to be leading anyone anywhere, so I just went with it. 
And he wasn't half bad, cause I didn't run into Dief or anything and
Fraser kept doing the circle-rubby thing on my back.

Then we were back to just standing and he waited a couple of minutes
before he kind of whispered, "Okay, Ray?"

Now, I didn't really want to, but I nodded my head into his chest and
got out a pretty strangled sounding, "Ya."

Fraser must be kind of psycho . . . ummm, I mean psychic, cause he made
one of those Canadian 'hmmm' noises, rested his chin on top of my head,
and just held me a little tighter. 

I swear to God, I haven't felt that good since . . . well, I can't remember
when.  I mean, I still felt like shit over Stella and everything else,
my head felt like it was going to explode and I couldn't breathe through
my nose, but I felt great.  Like I was finally seeing the sun after years
of storms.  I think I saw the storms break the first time when I saw
Fraser, screwed up my courage and walked over to hug him.  Then the clouds
were gone, banished like my bad dreams, when he gave me that dream catcher.
And now, standing in the Consulate, feeling protected and, well, ya,
loved, in Fraser's arms, it was like dawn was finally breaking.  And
the sun felt so damn good.  So, I was quite happy to stay there. 

But then I started to think about what Fraser must be thinking.  Granted,
he didn't push me away when I started crying, but we were just standing
there, hugging, so who knows what he was thinking.

So I gave him a little squeeze and, really reluctantly, pushed myself
away.  I couldn't bring myself to look Fraser in the eyes (I think I
was afraid of what I would see there), so I looked to see what room we
were in.  We were in the kitchen, so I sat down on one of the chairs
around the little table.  I sat there, looking at my feet and sniffling,
hoping and wishing and praying Fraser wouldn't tell me to leave.

Fraser just stood there for a minute (I could see his feet, in socks,
which was still weird), then his feet went over to the stove and back
in front of me.  But closer.  Then he crouched down to look me in the
eyes, but I kept looking at the floor.  Then his hand was cupping my
chin and I had no choice but to look at him.  And that same sweet smile
was on his face and I knew, I just knew, that Fraser didn't think any
less of me and he sure as hell wouldn't tell me to leave.

Then I knew why he went over to the stove, cause he started wiping my
face with the soft towel thing that had been hanging on a hook by the
stove.  Wiping away my tears.  Nobody had done that since I was a little
kid and then it was my Mom.  I don't even remember crying when I got
shot.  I cried after the divorce but no one was there to wipe them away.
Although, I guess Fraser was wiping away some divorce tears.  And it
felt good.  

When Fraser had wiped away the last tear that had trickled out, he stayed
there for a minute, looking at me.  I gave him this little smile and
he immediately smiled back, like he was encouraging me or something.
Which, I guess, he was.

"Alright, Ray?"

"Ya, I think so," I answered.  And when I thought about it, I was alright.
For the first time in a long time.  And it was cause of Fraser.  He nodded,
like he knew I was better and stood up.   He went over to the stove and
put the kettle on, for the promised tea, I imagine.  Then he came back
and pulled a chair over and sat down beside me.  Did I mention I feel
better when Fraser's close by?

We sat there for a while, until the water was boiling, then Fraser went
and made the tea and found some muffins and brought it all to the table.
When I had the hot cup in my hands, I just sat there and looked at it
for a while.  Then Fraser softly cleared his throat. 

"Do you want to talk?" Fraser asked, all soft and careful like he was
afraid I'd run away.  And I think if he had asked me two hours earlier,
I would have.  Run away, that is.  But I  was better, I was calm.  Fraser
had made me calm.  After I cleared my throat, I answered him. 

"Ya, I could talk," I said.

And we did.  And we still do.  And the storms have never come back.