Rating/Warning: PG-mild language, slash (not much)
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Disclaimer: No lawsuits, please, just having some fun with the guys and the family. Not mine, never will be, *sob*! Oh, but I can dream!
Spoilers: Pilot, Burning Down the House, assorted stuff from season 3, etc.
Summary: Ray meets the *extended* Vecchio family. Italians are weird, and chaos ensues.
Notes: Well, it's my first solo attempt, inspired by washing dishes *G* and of course my hero, Ashinae, the Fraser to my RayK! Platonically, of course :)
Sorry if you [the reader] don't like slash, but it just added to the story. Also, I really tried hard to emulate the show as much as possible, so sorry for the whole Thatcher and Fraser stuff! *Shudder* Hope you enjoy, cuz I loved writing it!
Jenn, you rock! [Jenn/Ashinae sez: Yeah, I know. HOW much time did it take me to beta this and put it all into html, hmmmmm? You know I love you.]

Feedback is craved and appreciated. Reach me at go_bananak@yahoo.com.

GHOSTS OF HOME - June 2000
By Jo

The door opened and light from the outside hallway intruded upon the once still darkness. A series of grunts and moans followed by footsteps made their way through the now lit apartment as the man let himself in and made his way to his bedroom. A pair of shoes were haphazardly kicked off and flew to the side corner of the bedroom, and just as quickly, a jacket, a white tee shirt and a pair of jeans were thrown off; discarded onto the un-swept floor.

The footsteps then began to move towards the bathroom as the man walked in and turned the shower on. Steamy. Hot. That was how Ray Kowalski *liked* it.

The dark boxers were last to go as he slowly stepped into the running spray of water.

*I wonder if this is what heaven feels like?* he mused, running his hands through his now soaked hair. Such a wonderful sensation. The hairs on his body rose as goosebumps crawled over his skin. He turned to feel the water on his face and chest, feeling his system warming up more and more with each passing second.

*Ahhh...*

Ray loved showers. Though he often had them in a hurry on his way to work in the mornings, he always made time for one at night. He just loved the feel of continuous heat entering through his skin. It was calming and did a fine job rejuvenating his tired and sore muscles. It really was his personal escape.

He stood still for a few more minutes, just enjoying the serene drowsiness that began to seep through him. Sighing almost dreamily, he then picked up the bar of soap. As he lathered his arms and chest he faintly heard the phone ringing.

*Let the machine get it, Kowalski,* he admonished himself as he rinsed. *Nothing could be that important.* Sighing again, Ray slowly finished up, and ten minutes later, stepped out of the shower. He drew the first available towel around his waist and grudgingly left the steam-filled room.

*Whoever it is will just have to wait,* he thought to himself. It seemed that nowadays, whenever the need for some personal time became apparent to him, he was called upon to do some favour. First it was his parents, seeing if they could come up for a few days. Then an old school buddy showed up, needing a place to crash for a weekend. Then Welsh sent him on some dumb assignment, only to find no leads, and then no crime. Then Fraser...well, that was different. Ray found that he didn't need "alone time" when Fraser was around. In fact, he wouldn't mind if Fraser knocked at the door right now--

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Ray blinked. *NO WAY*.

Smiling, he half-ran to the door. Then doing a quick breath check and carefully smoothing back his hair, he all but ripped the door open to see--

"Oh my god, I think I'm blind!" Frannie shrieked, turning her head and throwing her hands in front of her face in a wild, frantic motion.

"Ah, Frannie! What're you doin' here?" Ray cried. He then realized his tiny towel being eyed by a nearby mailwoman and quickly yanked Frannie inside. "Jesus Frannie, what're ya tryin' to do, scare me half to death?"

"Scare *you*?" Frannie asked, amazed. "Have you looked in the mirror lately? Do you usually greet people so...*openly*? No, wait, don't take the time to answer, just go and change already. Ugh!" She hesitantly took a seat on a small spot on the couch, the only clean, uncluttered spot in the place.

"Ray?" she called out.

"What?" he called back shortly.

"Have you *ever* cleaned this place even *once* in the entire time you have inhabited this apartment?"

"Hey, I'm a slob, okay? This is how I like it. Just don't...*touch* anything. I have everything exactly where it should be."

"Don't worry. I won't touch a--Ray--Is that--" She stopped, then walked across the room to crouch down and look in the tank. "A turtle?" she added finally.

Ray came back out; a dark sweater pulled over his once discarded jeans. "Yeah, it's a turtle. Don't scare him. What d'ya want, already?"

Frannie paused, took one last look at the turtle, and then slowly stood. "I told you I'd come over if you couldn't reach me."

Ray stared at her, blankly. "Reach ya for what?"

"You didn't get my message?"

"Message?"

"On your machine," she explained with *infinite* patience. "I left a message on your machine."

"Oh, that was you!"

"Yeah. Umm. Well my family... we're having this big family dinner tonight. Just for the heck of it, you know. And well... they thought it would be nice if... you'd come and be the honourary guest."

Ray blinked again. "Honourary guest?"

"Yeah, well y'know, since you're you, y'know, well who you are supposed to be, Ma sees you as a kind of hero."

"Hero?" Ray echoed incredulously.

"Yeah. You know. You're filling in for him. Y'know, keeping him safe while you take his cover."

Ray mulled over that one for a bit. "Frannie... Ahh, that's kind of... well really... sweet, y'know, but... I dunno. I just think it might be a little uncomfortable--"

"*No,* it wouldn't."

"Well, yeah, actually for m--"

"No. Ray. You're coming. And you wanna know why?"

"Well--"

"You see, in the message I said that you were coming, so I relayed the same message to Ma. That means she's already prepared more than enough food. And I am *not* getting stuck with loads of leftovers."

"But Frannie--"

"Ma always thinks I need more food, y'know, all the time, and I tell her over and over, I say, 'Ma, I'm tryin' t diet, y'know?' And I get this look from her and--"

"Okay, Frannie, I'll go if you just shut up already. What would you have done if I had plans?"

"Hah! You? Plans! Ha Ha Ha!" Frannie laughed as she walked towards the door. "That's funny Ray, real hilarious. Plans, Pah!" She stopped, waited a second, and then took a deep breath. "Oh, yeah one more thing," she called out.

"Oh, I don't know if I can handle it," Ray cracked as he returned from retrieving his jacket.

"Ray, could you... uh... possibly... uhh... pick up Fraser on your way over? Uhh... Ma wants to see him. She, uh, misses him."

"Aha! Now I see why you want me to come over so bad!" Ray smirked as he watched Frannie's eyes fix on a point on the floor.

"Why don't you ask him yourself Frannie?" he mocked, then stopped short. "Wait-- Your Ma knows Fraser?"

"Oh yeah! He's come for dinner before. Plenty of times."

Ray looked down. The more he thought of the Vecchio household--with all of Vecchio's relatives laughing and reliving old times with Fraser and his memories of the Mountie and the *real* Ray Vecchio--the more it seemed that much more uncomfortable.

"Please Ray," a small voice asked. Frannie had suddenly become quite interested in the door in front of her, not turning to meet Ray's scrutinizing gaze. He had to smile at her feigned offhandedness. But he could relate. If Fraser didn't notice him... well... he just wouldn't be able to handle it.

"I'll see what I can do fer ya, Frannie."

"Gre--good. That'll be good for Ma, y'know."

"Right. Of course, for yer Ma." Ray nodded, a smile breaking out across his face.

"Ray? Shut up! And be there for eight." Frannie said as she walked through the now opened doorway.

"Should I bring anything? You know, some--"

"Just-the-Mountie," Frannie said pleasantly. "Oh, and get him to leave the wolf at home."

"And furthermore, Constable," Inspector Thatcher concluded, "the next time I get a call about your reckless endangerment of personal property, you won't hear the end of it! Understood?"

Constable Benton Fraser winced ever so slightly at the words that proceeded from his mouth.

"Well, you see, Sir, the car technically did not belong to the man himself, considering he had yet to receive the ownership papers, and well the fish, although quite possibly cherished could easily be replaced--"

"Constable!" Thatcher barked.

"Y-yes, Sir?"

"Am I to take it that you are *not* willing to take responsibility for the damaged property?" she asked in an icy tone that automatically caused Fraser's teeth to clench.

"No sir."

"No?" she repeated, wide eyed.

"Well, no as in yes, I am willing to take responsibility for the damaged articles, but they are not owned by Mr. Delroy Elps, Sir."

Silence then engulfed the room. Fraser was afraid to say anymore and reluctant to meet the woman's gaze.

"No... as in yes?" she all but mocked.

"Exactly sir." Fraser was about to continue in more explanation, but thought the better of it.

Constable Turnbull sat at his desk, making himself busy, trying his hardest not to let his curiosity get the better of him. He found it quite difficult, especially these days. Whenever the Inspector sent him to find Fraser, which was quite often, she always had this look of inner struggle, and when he conveyed messages to the constable, Turnbull noticed the pauses in Fraser's speech and the similar looks on his face.

*No, no, I will not invade their privacy by eavesdropping,* he chastised himself, clenching his fists tightly. His prayers for distraction were answered as the door to the Consulate opened. Turnbull's thankful smile dropped slowly, though, as the blond detective closed the door behind him.

"Can I help you, Detective?" Turnbull asked.

"Uh, yeah. Is Fraser here? In his office?" Ray didn't stop, but just kept walking toward Fraser's closed door.

"No." Turnbull responded, just as Ray was about to knock. "He is... detained."

"Detained. By who?"

"Whom."

"What?"

"The proper way to say it is, 'by whom'," Turnbull explained, emphasizing the last word in a patronizing tone that set Ray's teeth on edge.

"Okay," Ray said, taking in a deep breath. "Whooom is he detained by?"

"That's not correct either, you see--"

"Just tell me where he is, Turnbull, or you definitely won't like the next words out of my mouth," Ray growled.

"Um. He's in a meeting with the Inspector."

"Was that so hard?" Ray asked, exasperated. Turnbull watched him silently, as the detective began to pace back and forth, consumed in his thoughts.

"How long has he been in there?" Ray asked as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Quite some time. I'd say, twenty-three minutes, of course that is just an estimate, considering I hadn't thought of using a stopwatch--"

"Turnbull!" Ray barked. "Just. Stop." There was a brief pause, as Ray rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. "Could you let him know I'm here?"

"Well no, Inspector Thatcher asked not to be disturbed." Turnbull began to speak again, but receiving a hand up from Ray, decided against it. Ray seemed to be staring in the direction of Thatcher's office doorway, listening intently to the voices growing louder with each passing second.

"Detective Vec--"

"Shh." Holding a finger to his lips, Ray silently made his way closer to the closed door.

Turnbull dropped down to a whisper. "Detective, I'm not sure that this is very appropriate."

"Turnbull, will you just... ah.. shh... wait." Suddenly, the voices became much more audible.

"I just don't understand, Constable," Thatcher said, standing now, and walking around the desk to stand right in front of the now seated Mountie. "This incredible desire to make much more trouble than it's worth is really trying at times."

"Understood, Sir. I apologize." Fraser raised his eyes to meet hers, as she leaned slightly onto the desk, crossing her arms tightly.

"Good."

"Very well." He nodded, paused, then nodded once more and began to rise before Thatcher placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He turned his head to look at her hand, then back at her.

"I have just one more thing." She said and slowly took her hand away from his *sturdy and muscular* frame. There was a definitive pause, as both held each other's gaze.

"What is that, Inspector?" Fraser asked softly.

"I--well I am going to be... going... out tonight."

"Ah. Out." Fraser tugged at his earlobe. "W-would you like me to bring the car around?"

"Oh, heavens no!" Thatcher laughed nervously. "No, I will not be needing your services, I mean, your assistance, I mean"

"I understand, Sir." Fraser coughed uncomfortably. "I am just unclear on why it is you are telling me this."

"I--It's a dinner, with an... old friend."

"Ah. I see--"

"A male... friend."

Fraser looked at her. He noted a look of pain in her eyes, and he responded in like kind. "I... see," he repeated, this time with more meaning.

"It-- It's a more appropriate course of action, w-wouldn't you agree?"

He didn't respond. He just watched her, the way she tugged at a strand of hair, her teeth biting into her bottom lip almost violently. He knew the reason made sense. It was difficult, but he slowly nodded.

"Yes, it would be for the best."

"Okay. Very well, then." Thatcher paused once more, and before she turned her head away, Fraser saw the disappointment on her face. She had her back to him now, and he watched her form slightly droop.

"Dismissed, Constable." Her tone had resumed the hard edge that usually addressed him. Fraser paused for one more moment, torn between duty and his uncertain feelings.

"Dismissed!" A sharp order was barked, and Fraser responded immediately with a "Yes, Sir" and quietly left the room.

"H-hey Frase," Ray mumbled as he nearly fell on top of the Mountie as Fraser opened the door. The blond detective grinned sheepishly, and backed up to let Fraser through the door.

"Hello, Ray," he replied, walked towards his office and shut the door.

Ray looked at Turnbull. Turnbull looked at Ray. "Right, well... I guess I'll just..." Ray muttered as he strode up to his partner's door. "Knock Knock, Frase. Can I come in?"

There was a pause and then Fraser spoke. "Certainly, Ray."

Ray cautiously opened the door. "Hey, Frase, buddy, I, ah, I'm sorry about that back there. I dunno what I was thinkin', y'know--"

"It's all right Ray," Fraser sighed. "What would you like?" He had his back turned to him, looking out the window. Ray could sense that Fraser would rather like to be alone, but he promised Frannie. Also, he couldn't really imagine going to the Vecchio home alone.

"I--umm, well it's not for me, really... well... Ma wants you home," he blurted out.

"Ma?" Fraser had turned around now, and was looking at Ray, puzzled.

"Yeah, Ma Vecchio, y'know, for dinner. She misses you."

"Ah. Oh, Ray, I don't think I could possibly--"

"Well, you kinda don't have a choice, because she kinda already thinks you're coming. You wouldn't want to upset Ma, would you?" Ray knew he was slime, but he figured it might get Fraser out of this rut he seemed to be in for the past few weeks.

"I don't know, I--wait. What does this have to do with you?"

"Oh, right. That. Umm well, I'm kinda the 'Honourary Guest'." Ray mimicked Frannie's voice and did the quote signs with his fingers. "Fannie said somethin' about Ma wanting to thank me, cause I'm keepin' Vecchio safe, you get me?"

"Ah. I understand, Ray." Fraser stood, glancing out the window and down at Diefenbaker, anywhere than at the blond man. He didn't know what to say. Didn't know *how* to say to Ray that he felt too uncomfortable going there, having to face all those familiar smiles and not hoping-- *wanting* to see Ray Vecchio, sitting at the table smiling at him.

He had never gotten over the loss of his friend. *God, it sounds as if he's dead,* Fraser thought, but realised that was how he felt. The absence of the real Ray was enough of a cause for misery as death. He missed him. Sometimes he missed him so much that no words came. Like now.

"Fraser?" Ray Kowalski spoke quietly, seeing his partner lost in thought, and not wanting to disturb him too greatly. He coughed delicately. "Umm, you see, I'm kinda in the position where I can't say no without hurtin' people's feelings, so if you could--"

"Ray, I'll come," Fraser nodded, feeling in the same position. "I'll just get ready. Go and start the car and I'll come."

"Gee thanks Frase, I knew you wouldn't let me down." Smiling, he walked out the door, and out of the Consulate.

Fraser sighed. Wouldn't let him down. Never.

He thought about what had just occurred with the Inspector. A while had gone by since they had had 'contact' and he couldn't help but feel relief at the outcome. No more worrying, wondering what to say and what not to. Now he had other things to focus on. Other people to focus on. People like Ray.

He was finding himself thinking about Ray a lot lately. It was strange, and it kept him quite busy. Turnbull would tell him that the Inspector would want to see him, and he would immediately think of Ray. He wasn't sure why, but he was sure it would reveal itself accordingly in due time.

Ray was leaning against his issued car as Fraser opened the Consulate doors. The two got in with Diefenbaker at their heels.

"Oh, yeah, Frannie asked if Dief could stay here," Ray said.

"Ah. Well, you heard that, Dief. Well, at least you saw that. Now go on." He nodded in the direction of the Consulate. Dief stayed put, growling quietly. Fraser sighed, shook his head once and got out of the car, heading toward the Consulate. He opened the door, then looked back at Dief. "Don't make a spectacle of yourself, Diefenbaker. Turnbull certainly spoils you enough; it's a wonder that you go with me at all anymore. Now come."

The wolf reluctantly complied and Fraser once again got into the car. He turned and glanced once more behind them as the Ray drove off, looking to see if Dief was following. Satisfied that he was not, he turned around again. "Infuriating wolf," he mumbled to himself, though Ray heard it and gave a little smile. Ray slowed to a stop as the lights turned red and looked at the Mountie, frowning. "Frase. You're wearing your uniform."

"Why, yes I am, Ray. Is there a problem?"

"Well, yeah, don't you wanna get some regular, y'know, street clothes."

"Street clothing?"

"Yeah, that's what I said. Street clothes." He sighed impatiently, then drove on as the light turned green. "Look, we could drive back, we wouldn't be that late."

"Is it not suitable?"

"No, it's not that... Look, Fraser, don't you ever want to look different, y'know, change your clothes once in a while?"

"Though it can chafe at times, Ray, I believe I have grown into it quite adequately."

"Yeah, sure, but Frase, don't you ever wanna look different? A new style. Somethin' instead of the uniform, I mean, you're not on duty, or anythin'."

"Is the uniform making you uncomfortable, Ray?"

"No, of course not, why would you think that? I just think that... well I mean you wear it *every day*, doesn't that annoy you?"

"If you're referring to personal hygiene, Ray, I do alternate uniforms."

"No, it's... look, you're not gettin' what I'm saying. Don't you ever feel like a change? Did you always wanna be this way, Frase?"

Fraser looked at him with a confused expression. "Did I always want to be what way, Ray?" he asked. He could see that the blond man was getting irritated, but Fraser honestly didn't understand this line of questioning.

"You know, Frase. All ... Mountie, ... Do-good kind a guy. Didn't you ever wanna be anything else in your life? Do you ever feel sometimes that you're not yourself, that you should be somethin' different?"

Fraser paused mid-speech and watched in alarm as Ray swerved into the lane beside them just in time to miss a bicyclist. He swallowed hard, and continued. "Well I suppose growing up knowing that your father is one of the greatest RCMP members in the area, it would be quite difficult believing you could be anything but a Mountie. I've always had this aspiration, Ray. It's ingrained into my DNA." He paused again, just looking at his partner. "I could change into some different clothing if that is your preference, Ray."

"No, Frase. It's not my preference. I just thought--Nevermind. Why would you change on my account, anyway?"

"Well, you said yourself, I wear this everyday. Since you're the one who sees me almost every day, it would be a reasonable suggestion, I suppose."

Ray stared at Fraser, long enough to worry Fraser that they were going to be in an accident on the road. Ray sighed in defeat, and turned his view back on the road. "Wear whatever you want Frase. Besides, it looks good on ya. I guess."

There was an awkward silence for a slight moment.

"Why, thank you, Ray."

"Sure, Frase, sure."

They drove the rest of the way in silence. A few times Fraser tried to speak, noting a look on Ray's face that was almost regretful, but then retreated back into his own thoughts. In just a few more minutes, he would, in a sense, be going back in time, to a place full of warmth and kindness. He thought back to the first time he was invited to the Vecchio household. He had just come to Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father, and Ray, the old Ray, brought him and his family accepted him, no questions asked. Fraser never knew of family dinners like it, loud and rowdy almost, yet filled with love.

And here he was, going back to the same scene. The people may have aged, but the emotions would still be there. The only thing that wouldn't be there was *Ray.*

The car stopped and Ray shifted into park. Fraser came out of his thoughts and realised that they were there already. Ray paused and looked at Fraser. Both men were apprehensive. Ray nodded. Fraser nodded back and sighed again. Then, they were out and at the door, Fraser knocking politely. This was it, no turning back. Would either be able to handle it?

Fraser saw the nervousness in Ray's eyes and placed a reassuring hand on the detective's shoulder. Ray turned his head and looked at the Mountie again, giving him a thankful grin that Fraser chuckled at. It was going to be okay, as long as they both had each other there.

"Ohh, here he is, the man himself! The 'hero!'" a boisterous voice boomed sarcastically from somewhere in the background, as Frannie opened the door.

"Shut up, will ya? I swear, you are so jealous!" Frannie yelled back then opened the door farther allowing them to enter. "Come in, come in, you're letting the bugs in. Hi, Frase." She smiled, and reached her hand out to touch his arm in a warm gesture.

"Francesca, hello. Thank you," he added as he gave her his hat. The Stetson was the block that gave him his advantage, and he quickly walked around her and into the dining room, leaving a bewildered Frannie and a smirking Ray behind him.

Ray followed after leaving his jacket and chuckling at Frannie. The Vecchio family warmly greeted both.

Ray was at once shocked to see how many people actually fit the room. The house seemed small from the outside, but was able to fit an average-sized Italian family comfortably. Today there must have been at least twenty adults and countless numbers of children running around. Still, it didn't seem to faze Fraser or the rest of them as the family greeted Fraser and Ray with the signature Italian style. Frannie came up and introduced Ray and Fraser to the *extended* family.

Name after name, the relatives came with smiles and kind Italian-rich accents to hug and kiss them on both cheeks. *Vincenzo, Vittorio, Alesandra, Alesandrio, Antonio, Ricki, Franco, Carmen...* Ray struggled to keep the names straight. He found himself staring at the men and women, trying to connect a distinguishing feature with each name, so he wouldn't make a mistake later.

*This is impossible, I'll never remember,* he thought, trying to keep a smile plastered on his face, though he felt like bolting for the door. He wiped a hand over his brow, and realised that he was perspiring under the concentration. He looked over at Fraser. His partner seemed to be in his element, able to converse with many people all at once, never missing a beat. He looked like he really belonged to the picture. He didn't stand out like Ray, instead seeming to blend in with the crowd. Ray realised then that it was Fraser's crowd. At least they knew Fraser better than they knew him. Ray couldn't help but feel alone in this sea of people, alone and desolate.

"Oh, my, Benton! You seem to be thinning out since the last time I saw you. My, my, you need more meat on those bones!" Ma Vecchio stood and came over, hugging and kissing each of them. "Oh, and you Ray, have you ever eaten a meal? Look at this sight! Never in an Italian household would you see this, never!" She laughed and poked him in the ribs, causing him to chuckle.

"Oh, believe me Ma, counting the many doughnuts he eats each morning makes out to three square meals a day in itself!" Frannie interjected sarcastically.

"Thanks, Frannie," Ray responded.

"Of course!" she shot back, smiling sweetly.

Fraser watched all of this, retreating back into his thoughts. He was at once overcome by the memories he had of Ray Vecchio. It took all of his strength not to ask if they had heard from Ray.

*Of course they haven't* he admonished himself, *and they won't until he is home, so why hurt them with such thoughts?*

More people came up to him, unfamiliar faces, but Fraser could still see bits of Ray Vecchio in them. He was nervous, beyond uncomfortable, but he managed to keep it all at bay. He was bombarded with questions from many different people and managed to answer all smoothly and politely.

"How is it up in Canada? Cold, eh?"

"It can be, yes."

"Do you wear your uniform everyday? Isn't it hot?"

"I suppose it has grown on me, but no not every--"

"Do you catch a lot of crooks, or can they see you coming from a mile away and you have to run after them?"

"I do, catch some people, but I do run a lot as well, t-that would be correct."

"Canada, that's provinces, not states, right?"

"Well yes, 11 in all."

"You're in the Yukon Territories, right? I bet you wrestle a lot of polar bears with your bare hands."

"Actually, it's the Northwest Territories, and I have yet to find or wrestle with a polar bear." He smiled, not finding it necessary to correct *Alesandra was it?* that polar bears were not found in Northern Canada.

Fraser looked over at Ray and noticed he was doing the same thing. Everyone wanted to hear about his life, day to day activities and such and Ray was trying his best to keep up, yet having some difficulty. He strained to listen in between answering each question.

"I'm sorry, what did you ask?" Ray would ask over and over and would eventually come up with a satisfying reply. Fraser had to smile. Ray probably never had to listen so hard in his life.

After many more rounds of questions came at them, Fraser and Ray were finally saved as Ma Vecchio sternly shooed everyone into the dining room. The children had their own table in another room, so the adults could talk openly.

Once inside and seated, the family all took turns asking questions to each, instead all at once. Fraser and Ray smiled and laughed after relating old stories they had shared about their cases.

"There was this one time," Ray began, but was interrupted by a waft of the most delicious smells as the meal was being served. All conversation was put to a halt as the family passed around the various Italian dishes. It was heaven. So much food, so much *good* food. Ray had never seen anything like it, even at his own family reunions he went to as a child.

"Ray, you might not want to drool too much on your plate, or there might not be room for your food," Fraser observed quietly.

"Hardy ha ha, Fraser," Ray laughed, and patted the Mountie on the back. A few more minutes passed, and then someone took his plate. Alarmed, Ray was about to tell them that his plate was missing, but after a short moment it was back, and piled beyond full with all sorts of wonderful Italian delicacies.

"Now Ray, I want you to eat all of that up. How is it that you're so thin? You should have someone to take care of you." Ma nagged jokingly.

"Yeah, well I'm workin' on that," Ray replied chuckling, then felt Fraser's eyes on him and turned. Fraser only smiled and turned again to *Vittorio was it?* to answer yet another question on the economics of the north. Ray wondered what the look was for, but his attentions were once again diverted.

"So, Ray, how's undercover work treatin' ya?" Tony asked, receiving a smack from both his wife Maria and Frannie.

Ray paused. Trust Tony to bring it all out into the open. Ray smiled again.

"Good. I just think of it as another job, y'know, just police work." He nodded and swallowed another forkful of food.

"Don't mind him, Ray, he's just jealous. Tony's always wanted to be a detective and has never got off his lazy ass to do anything about it," Frannie said, and stuck out her tongue at her brother-in-law.

"Frannie, don't talk about my husband like that," Maria told her.

"Why, you do it all the time," Fannie mumbled back.

"I'm happy right where I am, thank you," Tony said.

"Oh, yeah and where is that?" Frannie asked.

Ray looked back and forth, unsure of what to say, but believing that he had started this. He looked at Fraser and the Mountie smiled reassuringly, as if to say don't worry, it's normal here. Ray nodded and resumed eating. Finally Ma interrupted and the fight was over, just as quickly as it began. They all went back to joking about the news in the paper that morning. Ray shook his head. Italians were weird sometimes.

Fraser coughed delicately, and smiled when he spoke. "Would anyone care for some more water?" he asked, and quickly got up to go to the kitchen. Ray watched him, wondering what that was about, but was soon asked more questions, and passed more food.

Fraser took several deep breaths. He couldn't force out the memories that flooded into his mind of Ray, the old Ray. Every smell, sight, touch, taste and sound triggered something, and Fraser fought back tears. It hurt him beyond words not being able to talk to him, to see his eyes. Looking at the faces out there, with bits and pieces of what made up Ray in them just enforced the hurt. It was like watching a movie of your worst moments, big screen and big sound.

He took in some more breaths. He could handle this, if not for Ma, then for Ray Kowalski, who seemed lost among the crowd. After a few more moments, he picked up the pitcher and walked back in.

The dinner went on, and many more stories were shared, that made everyone laugh and laugh. After everyone had their full, the plates began to disappear and Fraser stood.

"What're ya doin' Frase?" Ray asked.

"*I,* Ray, am going to wash some dishes," he said determinedly and marched into the kitchen. Ray followed, interested. Fraser grabbed some stacks of plates and started rinsing them and filling up the dishwasher, ignoring Ma Vecchio's pleas to leave them be.

People had already started leaving from the table and moving into the living room and outside for a breather, happy for the break.

When the dishwasher was full, Fraser pulled out some rubber gloves and began to fill up the sink with soapy water.

"Well, if you must insist," Ma Vecchio said defeated.

"I'm afraid I must." Fraser replied smiling. He took off his tunic and was about to start when Ma picked out something from a drawer.

"I won't have you spill all over yourself!" she said, and stuck a flowered, frilled, *pink* apron on him.

Ray fell on the floor, laughing out loud. He couldn't contain himself. The sight was hilarious. Fraser looked at him. "Ray, you could be of some assistance and pick up a drying towel."

Ray wiped the tears from his eyes. "Y-Yeeaah I could, but I don't wanna! I'd rather just... watch... oh god!" he shouted as he began laughing again. Fraser grimaced slightly and began washing the dishes. Ray laughed again when Frannie walked in, ran out, and a few seconds later yelled, "Hey Frase!" and took his picture.

"Oh, I definitely need a copy of *that* one!" Ray hollered, holding onto his stomach. "Take another one!" he yelled, as Fraser looked at them with a horrified and embarrassed red face.

Tony came in and laughed too. "Well, that's definitely one for the books! Ray's gonna be so mad that he missed this when he gets back!" He didn't notice the look of death Frannie was giving him and he left to talk to Maria.

The kitchen became silent. Frannie tried to help, saying," Aw, don't listen to that jerk-off," but it didn't help. Ray felt it, and he noticed that Fraser did too. Fraser had turned back to the sink, but his head was bowed and he leaned onto the countertop with his hands. Then, taking in a deep breath, he continued washing the dishes. Ray watched for a bit, then grabbed a towel to dry. The time passed by silently and uncomfortably, as each struggled for words. Eventually they gave up and finished the dishes in record time, each eager to be out of there.

The table party had been assembled back at the table as they returned.

"Ah, there's our heroes, back from their dishwashing expedition!" Ma laughed, and gestured for them to sit down. More conversations were held, but neither Ray nor Fraser answered as patiently as before, each lost in their own thoughts.

*It's gonna happen eventually, Kowalski*, the blond man thought. *He's gonna come back and then where will you be? Off somewhere, with a new life, and my old name and... without him* He looked at Fraser. *That's the big thing isn't it? That's what's really been bothering me. I won't have him.* He stared at Fraser hard.

He thought about Ray Vecchio again. *He'll have him. Fraser will be there for him. I'll be forgotten, just pitched away. Everything I have done will be for nothing once he's back*

Ray was angry.

Furious at his inability to keep hold of himself.

Ray was lost.

The energy in the packed house was emanating from everyone, overwhelming Ray's senses still. Countless times Ray caught himself tugging at an imaginary cord that was tightening around his neck and recovered each time by breathing a little deeper and watching Fraser.

It was funny. Wherever he was, whatever situation they were in, however much the guy was buggin' him at the time, Ray always found some comfort catching Fraser in a gaze. It was soothing, even relaxing to hold a smile from Benton Fraser. He was going to miss that. He was going to miss everything about him.

"Ray, please tell us, how was it when you first met Benton?" Ma Vecchio asked, and the collective chattering all seemed to die down.

Ray paused and looked at the fidgeting Mountie. Fraser obviously still felt sheepish of his actions during those far away days. How he kept trying to collect evidence to prove that Ray was not Ray Vecchio. It was a funny memory, but Ray now saw it differently.

"Ah well, funny story really. He waltzes into the precinct and I march right up, sayin' 'Hey Fraser buddy, good to see ya back', or somethin' and the look on his face, I..." He stopped.

*What was that look? Well confusion, of course, impatience, yes, but something more. Disappointment. Loss. Regret. Those really hit the mark, don't they Kowalski?*

Ray looked up to see everyone's eyes on him. "Well, let me tell yah, it was goddamn priceless." His voice turned bitter, ugly. "It was as if to say, 'Hey, jackass, where's the real Ray and how come you think you can waltz in here and everything'll be normal?'" He looked down again, caught up in his own emotions.

The table was silent for a few minutes, and then a few hesitant laughs broke out, trying to ease the tension. They all eventually saw it as a joke, reinforced by the smile that appeared on Ray's face. Only two people noticed the cynical edge to Ray's smile, and they remained silent from it. Fraser looked at the woman. She smiled sadly and stood.

"I'll just get the desert. The Gellati should be ready. If you'll excuse me," Ma Vecchio said.

"Oh, please allow me. Ray, could you help me in bringing some more dishes out?" Fraser asked, placing a hand on the blond man's shoulder.

"Yeah. Sure," he muttered and followed him into the kitchen. Fraser walked over to the stove, but turned when he got there, to face Ray.

"Ray--"

"Fraser, just don't say nothin' okay? I don't need any shit right now." He didn't want to look at him, picturing the wide eyes and pouted lips revealing confusion on the man's face. He glanced briefly, though, and was more than surprised to see so much hurt in the blue eyes staring back at him. He looked down again, unable to take it.

"Alright Ray." Fraser said slowly. "I won't speak. I won't refer to how uncomfortable you just made not only me, but also Mrs. Vecchio. How blatantly insensitive it was. You're right. It's not my place."

"Oh, Fraser, don't start on me with that. You don't understand what's going on, do you? You don't see it. You're so blind sometimes, I don't believe it. I-I don't need this," Ray said suddenly, "I don't need this pressure, this constant judgement on me. I--"

"Oh no. No, Ray. It is *you* who doesn't understand. You are *not* being judged. You were accepted into this house warmly and openly and I don't see how you could think that there is pressure. I--"

"That's it! You don't see! I just can't do it. I just can't play it anymore. It's gotten too much. It's too hard, Frase. And at the end of it all, I got nothin'. That's what scares me the most. I won't have anything." And with that, he left the kitchen and went out the back door to stand on the patio.

Fraser watched after him. He wanted to kick himself. He had been so caught up in his own feelings that he never thought of the effect that all of this had to have on Ray.

"Oh, God I've been so selfish," he whispered.

"Oh, Benton. No no, you've just been yourself." Ma Vecchio came up to him and placed a hand on his arm. "You cannot blame yourself. It was bound to happen. He can't stay in that shell forever."

"I could have been supportive, I just--"

"Miss him. Oh, caro mio. We all do. But I think you have more pressing things to take care of, yes?"

Fraser nodded. "Thank you," he said.

"Of course, of course. Just get both of you back in to try the Gelatti before it's too late, okay?"

"Yes, Ma."

"Ohh. Benton." She laughed then kissed each cheek and left the room with the desert and plates.

Fraser sighed and walked out to meet his partner.

"Ah. I see now this somber attitude, Ray." Fraser spoke up as he walked outside and leaned against the wall next to his partner. "I'm sorry I didn't see it before. It has to do with our conversation in the car earlier."

Ray nodded quickly, staring at his shoes.

"There is always a point in a man's life where he steps back from himself and evaluates his place, and sometimes finds an inadequacy. Why it's just like the Nunavut Tribesmen"

"No Inuit stories now Frase."

"Right, Ray. This is important. I understand that you must feel like you don't have an identity--"

"Yeah, It's like I live a life that's not mine. I mean I am, kinda, and I can accept that--"

"It's not that. It's more than that. It's deeper. Your inner dreams, aspirations; you feel that you'll never be able to achieve them. You feel that feats you accomplish here only add to the disguise you wear. Am I hitting the mark?" Fraser asked carefully.

"Yes," Ray mumbled.

"Feeling like this--you must feel that you are very much alone."

"Yeah."

"Ray, listen to me. Whether your name is Ray Vecchio or Stanley Kowalski, it's still *you* who are the hero at the end of the day. It is *you* who has become my friend and partner. *You* are important, and I honestly couldn't imagine you not being there. I value you friendship as well as your ability to do what you do so well. Don't ever forget that and don't ever slight yourself. Think of all the lives you've touched by assuming this position, including mine. Always remember what your life is actually fulfilling." And with that, he walked back in to the house, leaving Ray alone with his thoughts.

After a while, Ray walked back through the kitchen and into the dining room. He watched as the generations of people talked and laughed, and how Frannie was making Fraser blush by eating her Gelatti with the attempt at looking seductive.

Fraser was right. He felt nothing but warmth here. He had felt earlier that he would be the warped piece to the puzzle, creating a disfigured image. He realised though, that he wasn't there to complete the puzzle, but as a new piece, in which to start a new one. Contemplating that he smiled broadly and sat back down to include himself in the dinner party.

Ray rubbed his face gingerly. "Do they always gotta pinch so hard?" he asked, wondering if there would be bruises later.

"I suppose so, yes. They certainly seem to enjoy it, at any rate." Fraser replied as he stared out the window.

The rest of the evening had continued as if nothing had happened. There were more laughs and food, and by the end, Ray never wanted to eat again. He was thanked vigorously and asked to come back again, but he wasn't sure if he would. It was just too hard. Ray caught Fraser's eye, and he seemed to be all right as they left the house, but as they drove away, the silence was too much.

Fraser couldn't speak. He wanted to, but didn't have anything really to say. Ray had obviously worked things out on his own after Fraser left the backyard, but it didn't seem that he was ready to address anything. Fraser waited, knowing that it would come later on, maybe in the next day or so.

He would wait. He would always wait for Ray.

He hadn't told Ray how he felt. He wasn't ready to tell Ray that he had feelings for him. He was going to, but then Ray dragged him to the house. The real Ray's house. It was too much. It hurt too much. Was it his own fault? Did he not show Ray that he appreciated him more than words could say? No, it was more than that. Goddamn it, he was in love with the guy. With shock, Fraser looked at Ray. No, it wasn't something out of desperation, or loneliness.

Fraser was actually in love. And it was damn scary.

The car stopped and they were at the Consulate. Ray turned the car off and sat back, silent. He looked over at Fraser. Both of them sighed at the same time, but didn't comment on it.

Ray became really aware of Fraser's breathing pattern. It was more rapid than normal, but the man didn't seem ready to speak. Yet.

*What does that mean?* he thought, worriedly. *Is he about ready to tell me off?* The thought chilled him, and he pictured not having Fraser there with him. It scared him. He had to say something. Now.

"Fraser I--"

"Ray, let me speak. Please." Fraser interrupted. Ray nodded shortly, head down again. *Here it comes*

"I don't know why you think that after what happened we can pretend nothing is wrong."

"I don't want to."

"Well good." Fraser stopped, and looked out the window again.

"C-Can I speak now?" Ray inquired mildly.

"Certainly, Ray."

"Fraser, I'm sorry but I do feel like you said earlier. This is not easy for me, y'know."

"I'm sure it isn't, Ray," Fraser consoled though still didn't look at him.

"I just-- Well, it's like you said. For me, I just can't picture me without ya there, so I kinda freaked when Tony said what he said, and--"

"'Kinda freaked'?" Fraser mimicked quietly. "Ray. You overreacted."

Ray wasn't convinced. "I did, did I?"

"Yes, Ray."

Ray sat silent and confused and waited for him to speak again.

"Ray, I meant what I said. You're my partner. I would never leave you."

"What about Vecchio?" he whispered, not wanting to hear the response.

"Ray is gone. He may never--" Fraser choked. "He may never come back. But if he does, I still want you in my life! I just can't express to you how much you mean to me. Ray is gone, and you're here, right in front of me." And with that, Fraser leaned over and kissed him. Soft and gentle, not lasting long, then he silently left the car.

Ray's eyes widened. *Did that just happen?*

He paused. *Did I not love that?*

He smiled. *Why yes I believe I did!*

"Hey Frase, wait up Frase!"

Ray had been found.