Due South and all of its characters are the property of Alliance Communications

"A Christmas Carol" belongs to Charles Dickens and Christmas.

Views to: linda18@ntlworld.com

Story page: http://www.1freespace.com/linda1/

A Due South version of the Christmas Carol. Ray Kowalski confronts ghosts from his past.

GHOSTS

by Linda Hughes

"It's Christmas Day," said Scrooge to himself.

"I haven't missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night......."

Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol (1843)

The strains of The Twelve Days of Christmas assaulted his ears. He pressed his head further into the cushions trying to block out the cheerful sounds from the carol singers. Stanley Raymond Kowalski hated Christmas, and he felt thoroughly miserable.

It was Christmas Eve, and Ray was laying on the couch in his apartment alone. Restless, he sat up stretching his legs. Getting up he moved over to the window staring out across the city. He gazed mesmerised at the snow falling laying a thick blanket on the pavement, and he watched as people hurried home to the warmth of their families. He sighed, and turned away from the window, gently knocking the Christmas tree. He looked down, "Why did I bother putting the stupid tree up," he thought miserably. It just reminded him of Christmas' past. He lightly fingered the crystal dance shoes that Stella had bought him for their first tree. "Stop it Ray, yer making it worse," he thought angrily. He turned away from the tree, its bright twinkling lights challenging him to be happy.

Ray had intended to work over the holidays, hoping to keep the memories of past Christmas' firmly buried at the back of his mind. His plans had gone wrong when two days ago, he had fainted in the middle of the squad room. He vaguely recalled feeling dizzy, remembering too late that he hadn't eaten for a couple of days.

The room had spun around, and the next thing he remembered was being tended to by a worried looking Fraser, who was kneeling at his side. Lieutenant Welsh had arrived just as he was shakily getting to his feet. It was just his bad luck that he had fainted a second time, this time against Fraser. He had come around just as Fraser was carrying him into the Lieutenant's office. Despite his protests, the Lieutenant had told him not to come back to work until after the New Year. Fraser had been instructed to drive him home. Ray had been angry knowing that he would now have to face Christmas and its dark memories. Fraser concerned had begun to fuss over him, and Ray had taken his rage and frustration out on his friend, driving him away with spiteful and hurtful words.

Ray was good at that, he had driven Stella away, his parents and now Fraser. Still angry and wanting to hurt someone, he had called the Consulate, and left a message for Fraser, with Turnbull, that he was going out of the city for the holidays. Now he was totally alone and miserable. He slumped onto the couch, his eyes wandering back to the tree where two presents lay - one for Dief and one for Fraser. He dragged his eyes away, and wiped at the threatening tears. He turned on the television, and started to idly channel hop. A film called Scrooged with Bill Murray was showing on Channel 22, and he lay his head back to watch.

He woke with a start, and looked around. The room was dark apart from the lights from the Christmas tree, and the flickering of the television screen. Pushing down his fear of the darkness, he got up to switch the light on. The darkness stubbornly remained as the light bulb gave out with a loud pinging sound. His fear of being alone in the dark started to surface, "Don't panic Ray," he told himself.

"Good evening Detective Vecchio, or should I say Kowalski," a voice said from the shadows.

Already frightened, Ray jumped visibly. Turning, he put his hand up to where his gun should be. "Oh don't be frightened. I won't hurt you. I'm here with a message for you," the voice continued.

Ray peered into the shadows. "Fraser?" he asked.

The figure stepped out of the shadows. "Well, yes in a manner of speaking. But not your Fraser," the shadow chuckled.

Ray found himself looking at a tall grey haired distinguished looking man, dressed in the red uniform of the Mounties. A mischievous grin played lightly on his lips, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sergeant Robert Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police."

"But, aren't ya .....but yer dead," Ray stuttered as he reached to turn on a lamp.

"Yes, a great loss to the R.C.M.P.," Fraser Senior sighed modestly.

Ray sat down hard on the couch, rubbed his eyes, and looked up again to see if the Mountie was still there. He was, and had adopted the Fraser like pose of tilting his head to one side, staring intently at Ray.

"Whad ya want?" Ray managed to stammer. "Why are ya here?"

"Why am I here. Oh yes, I have a message for you. They sent me. Now where did I put it," Fraser Senior started to search his pockets. Triumphant, he pulled a piece of paper out of his notebook. He cleared his throat, "Now son, these are their words, not mine. I would say it completely different if it were up to me. But, well it isn't." He held the piece of paper, stretching his arm out trying to focus, "Damn, forgot my glasses. Well never mind, here we go."

Ray stared and put his hand up. "Wait, wait, who sent ya?" he asked puzzled.

"Oh, you know them," Fraser Senior waved his hand dismissively. "Now can I get on with this? Goodness, you're worse than Benton," he said impatiently. Ray nodded blankly.

"You will be haunted by Three Christmas Spirits. Expect the first ... Oh good God, this sounds ridiculous. Blast them, I'll say it my own way," Fraser Senior grumbled. He paced the floor his hands crossed behind his back; he then sat down next to a startled Ray.

"Now son, listen to me carefully. At first I didn't like you, but I know now that you're a good man, a good friend to Benton. I don't want to see you throw that all away because of the past, or the present for that matter. I hate to see you turn your back on the people that really care about you," he smiled at Ray.

"I don't know what ya mean. I'm not throwing anything away, or turning my back on anyone," Ray muttered stubbornly.

"So why are you sitting here all alone on Christmas Eve?" Fraser Senior accused.

Ray looked down guiltily, and started to twiddle his fingers nervously. The elderly Mountie was right; he was alone, and it was his own fault.

"I umm," Ray started to say.

Fraser Senior silenced him with a wave of his hand. He sighed, "I spent many a Christmas alone chasing one villain or another. I thought my duty was more important than my family. I left my loved ones alone without a second thought, and I wish now that I hadn't. It's one of my biggest regrets, something I wish I could change, but I can't. But you can." Ray continued to twiddle his fingers, choosing not to look at the Mountie.

"Now where was I? Oh yes, the ghosts will visit you tonight. They want to help you so don't be afraid," Fraser Senior continued. "Now I must go. Have to finish my taxes," he declared standing up, patting Ray on the shoulder.

"No, wait don't go," Ray cried looking up. The Mountie was gone. Ray rubbed his eyes, "Ray yer becoming as unhinged as Fraser," he thought laying his head back.

**************

Ray felt something lightly touching his knee; opening his eyes, he sat up straight. A beautiful young girl dressed in pale yellow with long golden hair stood in front of him smiling. She held her hand out to him, urging him to get up.

"Come," she whispered softly.

Ray hesitated. "Come, don't be afraid," she encouraged. He got shakily to his feet, and nervously took the offered hand. The apartment seemed to disappear into a pale light. He felt light-headed, and closed his eyes. He heard familiar music playing, and he slowly opened his eyes. The young girl was still holding his hand tightly, and smiling serenely.

He stared as Stella walked into the room, "Ray, Ray, I'm home darling," she called. He saw himself coming from the kitchen grinning, catching Stella up in a hug and kissing her tenderly.

Ray looked at the young girl, "What, how?" he stammered.

She smiled, "These are but shadows of the things that have been. They cannot see us. Observe." She turned back to watch the couple.

Ray and Stella were standing by a Christmas tree, lights glimmering as brightly as their love for each other. "I bought you a present for our tree," Stella whispered handing Ray a small box. Opening the box, Ray took out a pair of crystal dance shoes. He kissed Stella lightly, and together they chose the place it should hang on the tree. The music changed to a waltz, and Ray took Stella in his arms; their laughter rang out as they danced around the apartment. As they gracefully twirled around so the crystal shoes spun catching the light.

Ray tore his gaze from the scene. "It was our first Christmas together. We'd only been married a week. It was... It was so good. We were so happy. I thought it was..... was forever," he choked.

The girl silently nodded, "My time is short, and we must visit another Christmas." Ray obediently turned to where the girl was indicating.

The apartment was the same, but there was no music. The Christmas tree lay on the floor its baubles strewn across the carpet. Ray was standing by the couch, his blue eyes full of tears. Stella stood in front of him shouting, "Stop it Ray, I'm going. I don't love you anymore."

"But I love ya Stella. Please stay, don't go," he pleaded reaching out towards her.

Stella took a step back, her face red, "But I don't love you, and I never did. It's over, and I'm glad," she shouted cruelly. Ray stifled a sob. "Oh for goodness sake," she yelled. Taking off her wedding ring, she threw it at Ray, "You can keep this worthless bit of metal, it means nothing to me." With that, she turned, picked up her bag, and slammed the door behind her. Numbed by Stella's cruel words, Ray slowly moved to pick up the fallen tree. Nestled between the branches, he saw the crystal dance shoes. As he carefully retrieved them, they spun around catching the light. Clutching them to his chest, he fell to his knees, and started to sob uncontrollably.

Ray had begun to tremble. The young girl was still firmly holding his hand; she turned her young face towards him, "You mustn't hide from Christmas because you were hurt in the past by someone not worthy of you," she softly whispered.

Still trembling Ray croaked, "But Stella was Christmas to me. Without her, it means nothing. We met at a Christmas party when we were children. We even got married the week before Christmas. And, she...," he stopped tears streaming down his face.

"Go on," the girl encouraged squeezing his hand.

"She left on Christmas Eve. I loved her so much, but she said she hated me. We made Christmas our time, but she took it all away when she left. I hate Christmas," he blurted out facing the girl.

The girl raised her hand touching his tears with her slender fingers, "Christmas can be a happy time for you again, if you let it. Don't turn your back on Christmas and the people that love you because a woman destroyed your faith in good things. You must leave yesterday's unhappiness firmly in the past where it belongs," she whispered.

**************

He woke with a start, looking wildly around the apartment. The young girl was gone. In an effort to clear his head, Ray went to make himself a cup of coffee. He filled the kettle placing it on the stove. He turned back to the kitchen counter to put the coffee in his mug. A large round faced man stood before him beaming. He was wearing a green checked suit with a red waistcoat, reminding Ray of a character from a Dickens story.

Ray jumped back in fright, dropping the mug on the floor. "How did ya get in?" he shouted.

"But, you knew I was coming," the older man chuckled. "No need to be afraid of me young man."

"Who are ya?" Ray demanded bending to pick up the fallen mug. He cursed silently, his favourite mug - a present from Fraser - was broken into three pieces.

"Names are irrelevant to us, but you can call me William, if you like," the man beamed again.

His anger rising Ray shouted, "Go away whoever ya are. I don't care, just leave me alone. I don't want to see whatever it is you want to show me. It... it hurts." The man leaned forward and grabbed Ray's wrist. Ray tried to wriggle free unsuccessfully. He found himself standing in the hall of the Canadian Consulate. A twelve foot Christmas tree occupied one corner, brightly decorated in red, its lights sparkling in the dim light. "Why have ya brought me here? Take me home now," Ray demanded.

William ignored him and pointed, "Look, listen and learn."

Fraser walked into the hallway. He was wearing his red uniform and was carrying a large pile of papers. He sat down at the reception desk, and began to sort through the files. Diefenbaker trotted into the hall, looking up at Fraser questioningly. "Yes, I know it's Christmas, but these files have to be processed before Inspector Thatcher and Constable Turnbull get back in the New Year." Diefenbaker woofed. "No, we can't go and see Ray. Turnbull says he's out of town for the holidays. Anyway, I don't think he would want to see us even if he was at home," Fraser sighed sadly, and returned to his files. The wolf lay down under the desk, placing his head on his paws.

Ray turned his back on the scene. "Look, I said why did ya bring me here?" he demanded again.

"To learn," William answered.

"To learn what?"Ray bit his lip, anger showing in his blue eyes. "What do ya mean to learn?"

"To learn that you are not the only one to be alone at Christmas. That you are not the only person to be afraid of Christmas," William quietly responded.

"I aint afraid of Christmas, and Fraser's got Dief so he's not alone. Anyway I thought he'd be at the Vecchio house, Frannie asked him, I know she did," Ray replied obstinately.

William fixed Ray with a cool stare. "Yes I know. He declined her offer because he hoped that you and he could spend Christmas together."

Ray glared defiantly at William. "That's not my fault. He shoulda gone. I didn't ask him to stay here all alone doing his stupid paperwork."

"No you didn't. But you did lie to him about going out of town," William accused. "You preferred to drown in self pity, condemning Fraser to yet another solitary Christmas. You say you are his friend, but you turned your back on him."

"But," Ray started. Feeling guilty at the truth, he glanced away from William and studied his feet. Fraser was alone, and it was his fault.

"You have more to learn," William said grabbing Ray's wrist tightly.

"No, leave me alone," Ray wailed, closing his eyes tightly.

Ray could smell cooking; the aroma made him think of home. William prodded him in the ribs hard, and he opened his eyes in pain. He looked around him in surprise, he was home. The Christmas tree in the window with the battered fairy, he had made when he was a child, sitting proudly on the top. Streamers hung from the ceiling, and a holly garland adorned the large mantelpiece. A sprig of mistletoe hung over the doorway. He gaped open mouthed at William, who was happily beaming. "But this is how I remember Christmas at home. The past...," Ray stuttered.

William interrupted him, "No Ray, this is how your parents like to celebrate their Christmas. This is the present." Ray just stared.

His parents walked into the room, his father had his arm loosely around his mother's waist. Barbara Kowalski was carrying a tray filled with home-made sweets. She placed the tray on the table. "Damien, can you get the mince pies? They'll be here in a minute," she asked her husband.

"Sure sweetheart in a minute. First come over here," Damien said affectionately pulling his wife over to the doorway.

She looked up and laughed. "Oh you old romantic you," she murmured as he kissed her tenderly under the mistletoe. Barbara gently pulled away, "Now off you go and get the mince pies."

Damien disappeared out of the door shouting, "I'll be back in a minute."

Barbara smiled and moved over to re-arrange the holly garland. Family pictures were neatly organised on the mantelpiece, and she smiled as her gaze went from picture to picture. She stopped as she reached the last picture of a young blonde blue eyed boy; he was grinning happily, and hugging a large dog. She extended her arm up to touch the picture, her fingers tracing the outline of the face. She jumped as Damien put a hand on her shoulder, and turned her to face him. He could see tears in her eyes.

"Don't," he said as he gently embraced her.

"But I miss him. He hardly ever rings, and never at Christmas. Did we hurt him so much in the past that he hates us now?" she asked her husband.

"Shhhh, no of course, he doesn't hate us. You know how he feels about this time of year. When Stella left she hurt him deeply, managing to destroy Christmas for him as well. One day, when he's good and ready, he'll come back to us," Damien soothed kissing her forehead lightly.

The door bell rang, and Damien went to answer it while Barbara wiped her tears away, and straightened her hair ready to receive her guests. She hugged her elder son, his wife, and their four children as they crowded into the living room. The room was soon filled with the youngster's laughter as they began to rip open their presents. Damien and Barbara stood by the mantelpiece arm in arm smiling at their grandchildren's excitement. Barbara occasionally glanced back to the picture of her younger son.

Ray quietly stared at the scene; a piece of him longing to again be part of this happy family. He started as William touched his elbow, "You could be a part of it if you really wanted to be," he said as though he had been reading Ray's mind.

"No," Ray snapped pulling his arm away from the older man.

"Yes, you could if you let yourself," William stated firmly. "They need you to be part of their family again."

Ray stared at the older man. "But it's too late. I've... I've left it too long."

"It is never too late. The quarrels and the hurt of the past and the present are unimportant. All that matters is that you are their son, and they love you," William said gently.

**************

Ray looked at the mug in his hand - his favourite mug - it wasn't broken. He looked around in confusion. "Must have been day dreaming again," he thought to himself. His mind reeling with disturbing images, he finished making his coffee, dropping once again onto the couch. He couldn't face eating, and he felt tired. He put his feet up on the couch laying his head back against the cushions, he drifted into a fitful sleep. He dreamed that a jolly old man was playing a piano, while his parents watched a beautiful young girl dance with an elderly Mountie. He saw Stella, wearing crystal dance shoes, waltzing with Fraser. The music suddenly stopped, and they drifted towards him trying to tell him something, but he couldn't hear what they were saying.

Ray moved restlessly. "Help me," he shouted sitting bolt upright. He was still alone; sinking back into the couch, he stared up at the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts and breathing deeply. Shivering, he ran his hand through his spiky hair. "Ray yer becoming seriously unhinged. There is no such thing as ghosts. Now stop it, and pull yourself together," he reprimanded himself slowly getting to his feet. He wandered over to the window, "It's just this Christmas thingy making ya feel like this." The snow was still falling, its whiteness reflecting in the street lights.

"No such thing as ghosts eh," a harsh voice growled.

Ray spun round, "Where are ya? Who are ya?" he shouted. "Why can't you just leave me alone? I won't listen to you, I won't." He turned back to stare out of the window determined to ignore the voice, putting his hands over his ears, "Go away, I can't hear ya. I won't listen."

The apartment was suddenly plunged into complete darkness, even the Christmas tree lights went out. The lights from the street remained on, only his apartment appeared to be in total darkness. Startled Ray cried out, clinging onto the window sill tightly trying to calm his nerves, but his fear of being alone in the dark threatened to strangle him. Ray slid down to the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest; whimpering as he wrapped his arms around his legs, putting his head down on his knees. He was terrified, and began to tremble.

"I see I have your attention now," the voice cackled.

Still trembling, Ray lifted his head. "Please turn the lights back on. I don't.... don't like the dark. Please," he pleaded; his heart pounded in his chest, his fear threatening to overwhelm him.

The Christmas tree lights suddenly came back on. Ray relaxed slightly, slowly getting to his feet. Ray saw a dark cloaked shape in one corner of his apartment, and he moved hesitantly forwards to get a better look at his visitor.

"You don't need to see me," the voice barked sharply. "You only need to see what I have to show you."

Ray stopped in his tracks. "Do I have a choice?" he asked, his voice sounding hopeful.

"Yes," the voice threatened. "I could leave you in the darkness."

Ray shivered at the thought. "OK, OK, don't get shirty. Lead on," he said half heartedly. His head spun, and he found himself in the hall of the Canadian Consulate once again. It looked the same as before, the huge tree still dominating the corner of the hallway. It was quiet, and he saw Diefenbaker laying under the reception desk, but he couldn't see Fraser. "Where's Fraser? Is this the future?" Ray asked puzzled.

The dark figure nodded silently and pointed towards the door. Ray found himself outside; the snow was still falling heavily. Ray looked around, "I don't see him. Where is he? What have ya done with him?" he demanded angrily. The figure pointed to a dark alleyway to the right. Ray shivered, but forced himself to walk forwards. His fear of the dark kept him alert, but he still jumped when he heard a low moaning sound coming from behind a dumpster. He peered cautiously around the dumpster, and saw a body lying face down on the ground. "Fraser," he cried rushing forward and kneeling down. "Benton buddy," he whispered turning his partner over onto his back. Fraser didn't move. Ray stood up looking wildly around, "Don't worry. Hang on, I'll get help." It was only then that he noticed he was covered in blood, Fraser's blood. "This isn't right. Fraser can't die. He'll be OK, right? This can't be the future," Ray cried peering towards the shadowy figure.

The dark shadow pointed again; Ray saw himself in the city cemetery. He was wiping snow from a secluded grave. Diefenbaker was by his side, lying on the ground with his head resting on his paws. His eyes watering, Ray squinted at the gravestone.

The inscription simply read:

Benton Fraser

Beloved son of Robert and Caroline

Born 1964 - Died 1999

Ray wiped at his tears. "This is a dream right. Fraser don't die, right? He can't die. I won't believe it's the future, I won't," he wailed.

"He didn't believe that you had left the city, and was coming to see if you were alright. Even though you were cruel to him, he was still worried about you. He was your friend, and he died because you were too afraid to face Christmas. Too afraid to share Christmas," the shadow accused harshly.

"Nooo," Ray screamed falling to the ground.

***************

Ray fell off the couch, his head hitting the coffee table. Stunned he lay on the floor trying to get his breath. Feeling something wet running down his face, Ray carefully sat up putting his hand up to his forehead. He looked down at his hand - it was covered in blood. "Damn," he cursed as he got shakily to his feet stumbling towards the bathroom.

Ray looked in the mirror to assess the damage; he had a cut over his right eye which was oozing blood. Grabbing a cloth, he he held it up to his head to stop the flow. Looking back to the mirror, Ray jumped back in shock. The reflections of four faces stared back at him - a Mountie, a beautiful young girl, a laughing man, and a dark shadow. They seemed to be speaking to him, and he imagined that he could hear their words in his head. The room had begun to spin so he closed his eyes, leaning on the sink for support. When the dizziness abated, Ray opened his eyes cautiously peering at the mirror; the images had disappeared.

Shaking his head, Ray cleaned up the cut, hastily applying a bandage. His mind in a turmoil, he restlessly wandered around the living room. He didn't believe in ghosts, but they had seemed so real. He sat down hard on the couch, and put his head in his hands. He couldn't stop himself trembling, "Oh Ray ya have been so stupid," he thought miserably. His body racked with sobs, he let himself cry for all the lost Christmas' that he could have spent with his friends and family. After he was spent, Ray lay back exhausted, feeling a heavy weight lift from his soul. He glanced at his watch, it was after midnight - Christmas Day. Mind made up, he put on his coat and scarf and left the apartment. It was cold, and he pulled up the collar of his coat as he hurried down the street. An hour and half later of slipping and sliding along the pavements, Ray found himself standing outside the Canadian Consulate. The building was in darkness, and he hoped that Fraser was at home. Taking a deep breath, he ran up the steps and knocked on the door. No answer, he banged on the door. "Fraser," he shouted banging harder on the door.

The door slowly opened, and Fraser looked at him in surprise. "Ray," he exclaimed.

"Fraser, I'm freezing my butt off out here. Can I come in?" Ray begged. "Please."

Fraser hesitated, but stepped back allowing Ray into the hall. Ray brushed the snow of his coat onto the floor, "Thanks Fraser," he shivered. Nervous, he shoved his hands in his pockets and studied the floor.

Fraser raised his eyebrows, and stood regarding his partner silently for a moment noting that Ray's clear blue eyes looked unusually blood shot, but feeling angry with his partner, he decided to make no comment. "Turnbull told me you had gone out of the city for the holidays. What are you doing here?" he asked not able to hide a hint of bitterness from his voice.

Before Ray could reply, Diefenbaker came bounding out from the back of the Consulate. Barking with delight, he jumped up against Ray knocking him off balance onto the floor. He started to lick Ray's face enthusiastically. "Dief, Dief. Yeh, I'm pleased to see ya too. Now can I get up?" Ray struggled. Diefenbaker woofed guiltily and sat back allowing Ray to sit up. The wolf nuzzled his nose against Ray until the detective put his arm around him.

Fraser suppressed a smile, and continued to regard his partner coolly. "So Ray. What do you want? It's very late, and I have a lot of paperwork to tend to before Inspector Thatcher returns in the New Year."

Suddenly feeling uneasy, Ray avoided looking at Fraser. "I came to wish ya Merry Christmas," the detective lied.

"Thank you kindly. Is that all?" Fraser replied coldly.

Ray looked up at his partner. "No. Oh Fraser, I'm... I'm really sorry I was mean to you, and I shouldna lied either. It's just..., well it's just hard for me. You see Stella left on Christmas Eve. She stamped all over me taking everything good, even Christmas, with her. I just kinda started to hate Christmas so I usually volunteer to work, doing everything I can to forget the past. This year, it sorta went wrong, I forgot to eat, and I went and fainted, and the... Well the rest ya know," he explained quietly. Fraser continued to stare at this partner unmoving. Ray sighed, "I know it sounds kinda stupid, but I'm sorry, really I am. I didn't mean to hurt ya." Embarrassed, he looked down idly stroking Dief's head. The wolf softly woofed snuggling closer comforting his friend.

Fraser remained silent. Walking over to his friend he extended his arm, and pulled Ray to his feet. "What did you do to your head?" Fraser enquired.

Ray touched the bandage. "Had an argument with the table when I fell off the couch," Ray admitted sheepishly.

"Have you had it attended to?I have a very good ointment. It's made from ....," Fraser started.

Exasperated Ray ran his hand through his blonde hair and held his hands up interrupting Fraser. "Quit with the first aid mumbo jumbo. Look dumb of me I know, but I walked all the way over here to get ya and Dief. I want... Well, I want ya both to share Christmas with me. If ya want, well ya don't have to, if ya don't wanna, but I'd like it if ya wanted to," he rambled looking at his partner hopefully.

Fraser stared at him, his face lighting up. "You want.... You want me to share Christmas with you?" he stammered.

"Yeh, didn't I just say that. Only, if ya wanna," Ray replied. "I don't wanna be alone, and I don't want ya to be alone at Christmas again. They made me see that Christmas can be happy again."

"Who made you see?" Fraser asked suddenly curious.

"Oh nobody, it's not important. What is important is that ya should pack yer kit and come and stay at my place. Ya can have the couch," Ray persuaded.

"But the Consulate," Fraser protested.

"Oh hang the Consulate and the Ice-Queen and Turnbull. Are ya coming with me or not, or am I going to have to arrest yer?" Ray said looking at his partner intently.

His anger forgotten, Fraser grinned happily at Ray, "Give me a minute to pack." Hurrying back towards his office, he turned, "Oh, Ray?"

Ray was hugging Dief. "Yeh Fraser."

"Did you really walk over here?" the Mountie asked mischievously.

"Oh funny ha ha. Yeh, I got legs ya know," Ray grinned back.

**************

The partners and Dief had trudged through the snow back to Ray's apartment. On the way, they had made a stop at a twenty-four hour mini-market to pick up provisions. Fraser had tried to protest at Ray's choices of chocolates, cakes, chips and various other junk food. He finally gave up defeated; he was too happy.

Fraser sat at the kitchen counter while Ray cooked them an early breakfast of eggs, bacon and potatoes. They ate in companionable silence. Ray got up to put the kettle on the stove. "I've got some bark tea. Would ya like a cup?" he asked.

Fraser looked up surprised. "Yes thank you kindly Ray. That would be very nice." He moved into the living room and sat down on the couch. "Diefenbaker. Come away from the tree, you'll knock it over," he scolded. The wolf whined, and reluctantly moved away from the tree, stretching out by the armchair.

"Fraser, do ya think it's too early to make a telephone call?" Ray asked as he set down their mugs on the table.

Fraser looked at his watch, it was seven o'clock. "Not if it's important Ray," he answered.

"Uhh, OK. Won't be a minute," Ray disappeared into the bedroom with his cell phone in his hand.

Fraser heard his partner wishing his mother a Merry Christmas. He smiled, and took a sip of his tea. He felt happy; this was the first Christmas he hadn't spent alone in a long time.

Ray came out of the bedroom smiling, "Just called my Mum and Dad. Mum cried, but I think... I think they were pleased. They asked me over for Christmas dinner tonight. Isn't that great?"

Fraser frowned, "Yes, indeed it is Ray. Would you like Diefenbaker and I to go now?"

Ray looked up to the ceiling exasperated, "Oh Frase, I said I didn't want ya to be alone at Christmas and I meant it. So I told Mum that ya and Dief were coming too. We can drive up this afternoon if that's OK with ya."

Fraser smiled warmly at his friend, "Thank you kindly. We accept." Diefenbaker woofed in excitement.

"I got ya a present," Ray murmured shyly getting up to retrieve the presents from under the tree. "This one's for Dief. Ya know sweets and all things unhealthy. And this is for ya," he thrust a package at Fraser.

Fraser took the offered parcel; it had been a long time since he had received a Christmas gift, and he felt overwhelmed. He carefully started to unwrap the present, neatly folding the paper. Carefully removing the tissue paper, Fraser sat staring, for once speechless; he was holding a snow globe. Within the glass dome, his parents' cabin had been carefully re-created nestling between fir trees. He looked closer, three figures stood on the porch, representing his family. A wolf lay at the bottom of the cabin steps. The detail was so accurate he could almost smell the smoke from the chimney stack. Fraser shook the globe, and the snow gently fell over the scene.

"Ya hate it right?" Ray sighed.

Fraser turned towards his partner his eyes glistening. "Oh no Ray, it's.... it's beautiful. How did you.... How could you?" he started to say.

Ray waved his hand, "I know a guy who does wood carving. I er..... stole the picture of yer father's cabin from yer desk, and made a copy. Then I got the guy to add ya and yer parents. And Dief, of course. I thought when ya looked at the globe, it would make ya think of home."

"Thank you Ray. I have a present for you," Fraser stammered still overcome. He fetched his bag, producing an elaborately wrapped gift, which he handed to Ray.

"Looks almost too good to unwrap," Ray admitted. "Is it chocolates?"

Fraser laughed, "No Ray, it's not chocolates. You know, I wouldn't encourage your bad eating habits."

Ray grinned as he started to unwrap his present. It was his turn to stare as he held a beautifully bound volume of "The Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens in his hands. Opening the book, Ray read the simple inscription on the first page:

Stanley Raymond Kowalski

My Friend

Christmas 1999

Benton Fraser

"I thought you could add it to your collection of Dickens. I noticed it was the only one missing," Fraser said.

"It'll have pride of place Frase," Ray replied. "It'll have pride of place."

THE END

Views to: linda18@ntlworld.com

Story page: http://www.1freespace.com/linda1/