Also, there has been at least one other story (that I know of) dealing with a similar theme. Hopefully my take on the situation is different enough to make this story worth it.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I won't make money from them. The exchange rate gets worse every day, so don't sue. You wouldn't get anything anyway. So, on with the show.
By T'Mar
Ray Kowalski of the Chicago Police Department sighed with frustration as he explained his latest problem to his partner, who just happened to be a Mountie. "...so I get this in the mail this morning, Fraser. It's bad enough having one ex-wife, now I get stuck with two?" He waved the papers at Benton Fraser and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Alimony? Gimme a break. Like what does she need alimony for, anyway?" Fraser took the papers and read what they said. He had absolutely no idea what Ray was going on about, but it soon became clear: Angela Viera, formerly Angela Vecchio, was suing her ex-husband for more alimony so that she could go back to school. This was apparently based on a former agreement between the two of them. "She wants to further her education," Fraser supplied. "And it would seem that you - well, not you, the *other* Ray Vecchio - agreed to help out."
"Lemme see that." Ray grabbed the papers back. "Oh, yeah. So now I gotta go to court and agree to this?"
"Yes, Ray."
"Fraser, I hate to break this to you but I think she's like gonna notice that I'm not her ex-husband."
"Didn't anybody...? Oh dear."
"They told me, sure, he has an ex-wife, but don't worry, they don't see each other." He turned and faced Fraser. "Do they?"
"They saw each other once that I know of," Fraser said. "I didn't even know Ray had been married until then."
"What am I gonna do now, Fraser? I can't just show up at the courthouse and pretend."
"You could... call," the Mountie suggested. "Set up a meeting to explain."
"Yeah. Okay. That'll work." Ray smiled at Fraser. "Now you gonna tell me why we're sitting out here in the freezing cold?"
"As I explained, Ray, we have to see whether..." Fraser rambled on about the case, leaving Ray to worry about his counterpart's ex-wife.
Setting up the meeting had been easy enough. Ray had called Angie, introduced himself as a detective at the same precinct, and explained that Ray was unavailable, but if Angie would care to have lunch he would go into further detail. Angie had been amenable, and so here they were.
Angie looked over her menu at Ray. "I take it you work with Ray?" she asked politely, a little unsure of why she was even here.
"Uh... not exactly." Ray put his menu down and looked at her. "Ray Vecchio has gone undercover with the mob. We don't know how long this will last, or when he'll be back. Until..."
"Registration starts next week," Angie protested. "Ray promised - "
"Whoa, hold on a minute. We're not saying you have to wait."
"What are you saying?"
"That for all intents and purposes, until he gets back, *I'm* Ray Vecchio."
"You are?" Angie didn't look or sound amused.
"Yeah. It's to make sure his cover is safe." He grinned a rather devastating grin at her. "So, think of me as him. I'll be the one seeing you in court in three days."
Angie shook her head. "This is weird. You're telling me I have to go in there and pretend you're my husband. Ex-husband," she quickly corrected herself.
"Yeah."
"I suppose I can do that," she smiled. "Ray promised me he'd help me with school. When we were married it was the wrong time, but now I'm ready."
"Good for you," Ray said.
"What's your name?" Angie asked, realising he had only told her his surname.
"Ray," was the answer. "Really."
"And everybody acts as if you're my Ray?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Fraser too?"
"You know him?"
Angie looked away, flushing, and Ray got the first inkling that something wasn't quite kosher.
"Angela?"
"Angie, please."
"What about Fraser? We're partners."
Angie bit her lip. "In all respects?"
Ray didn't understand. "I don't... what are you asking me?"
"I... I... some people know. Do you... I mean, do you pretend when you're around them?"
"'Some people know'? Know what?"
"About Ray and the Mountie."
"WHAT about them!" Ray almost yelled it. So the partner was a Canadian and had a wolf that was a florist. What more could there be?
Angie looked away, then back. "You didn't know."
Ray just looked at her and clamped his mouth shut; if he hadn't he would just have repeated himself anyway.
Angie realised she was now bound to continue. "They were... I mean it was why Ray and I got divorced. He..." She couldn't make herself say it.
But Ray Kowalski got the picture, finally. "They were lovers?"
"Yeah."
"How do you know?"
"He told me. He called me sometimes... I don't know the Mountie - Fraser - but Ray... he made Ray happy."
Stanley Raymond Kowalski rubbed a hand over his face. "Ah, geez." He had absolutely no idea how he was going to relate to Fraser after this. He'd never thought of anything like this before - in a run of good or perhaps bad luck, he'd never really had to deal with this kind of thing.
Angie looked nervous. "I'm sorry. I guess he didn't mean for you to know."
"Nah, it's okay." Somehow, it would have to be. "I'll survive."
"Please - don't tell Fraser that I told you. Ray cared so much about him. I don't want him to be hurt."
"Angie, it's fine, really. I don't want him hurt either."
They looked up as the waiter returned to take their orders. "Shall we order?" Ray asked.
"Yes." Angie smiled at him. "And sometimes you should call me Ange." Ray heard the unspoken part: '*He* used to.'
Fraser had felt decidedly uncomfortable the entire evening. He and Ray were in Ray's apartment waiting for a phone call from a contact that Ray had recently made, but Fraser could tell that his partner's mind was not on the case. After the fourth time Ray got up and paced the apartment, Fraser finally spoke up.
"Ray?"
"What?!" Ray was very jumpy, too.
"Have I done something to... offend you? You've been acting nervous all night."
"Nah, you haven't done anything, Fraser."
"Something's bothering you." Fraser had learned to read his new friend's responses pretty well, and was dead certain of that fact.
"Nothing's bothering me!"
"Ray..."
"Fraser, just let it go, willya?"
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Ray. If I've inadvertently done something to offend you, I'm sorry. But I can't offer restitution unless you tell me what it is."
Ray stopped and stared at his new friend. Some part of him was angry that Fraser hadn't told him; another part was a little afraid, and yet another part was... oddly excited. He sighed as he saw the look on Fraser's face. The Mountie was not going to let this go, and Ray knew that he was a lousy liar. Fraser always caught him at it. "Look... it isn't you, okay? I... Why didn't you tell me about you and him?"
"Who?"
"Him. The real Vecchio!" He watched in fascination as Fraser's face closed off, revealing nothing.
"Where did you find out about that, Ray?"
"Angie told me." That didn't get any response, so Ray figured Fraser must have known that his lover had told his ex-wife. "She said not to say anything, and I swear I wasn't gonna. But..."
Fraser interrupted him. "It makes you uncomfortable."
"Well, yeah. I'm supposed to *be* him. And now I find you two were... you know... and I wonder if people might not think that we're doing it too."
"The thought offends you." It was more a statement than a question.
"Yeah... no... I dunno. I just... I don't think of guys like that, see? It's hard to think of you... you know, doin' stuff."
"Sit down, Ray."
Ray obeyed and sank onto the couch opposite Fraser.
"Would you like me to... tell you... what we do?" It was just a polite question, very Fraser-like.
"No!" Ray looked shocked, but at the same time he knew he was lying: he *did* want to know.
Fraser heard the unspoken answer. Very softly he said, "We make love, Ray. Because of the feelings we share."
"Then why'd he leave, huh, Fraser?" That was a safer question; Ray did not want to ask *how* two men went about making love, although he had a pretty good idea.
"I don't know, Ray. Our last conversation... It was rather cryptic. I think now that he was trying to tell me some things: that he loved me, that he was sorry for leaving... But I know Ray. I mean the real Ray. He cared about justice, about making the world a safer place. I would never have
stood in his way." Fraser paused, and sighed, running his tongue along his bottom lip. "I also know what he might be required to do in the line of duty."
Light dawned. "It bothers you."
"I don't know, Ray. I think... he wouldn't expect me to wait, but he knows me too well. I... love him." It was a difficult admission, but there it was.
Ray was still startled at hearing one man confess romantic love for another. "This is weird, Fraser."
"I don't expect you to pretend in... that arena," Fraser said.
"But you said you did find me attractive."
"If I were a woman."
"Okay, I get that. What about as a man? Do you find me attractive?"
"Will it make you uncomfortable to think I might?"
"I dunno, Fraser. But I need to know."
Fraser squared his shoulders. "You're a very attractive man, Ray. But finding you attractive has nothing to do with how I relate to you. I would never compromise our friendship by... I believe the expression is 'coming on' to you."
"Okay." Still, Ray couldn't help but feel... odd. He knew he'd be looking at Fraser in a new light from now on; he just couldn't help it. Fraser looked into those clear eyes and realised that his new friend had to fit a strange new variable into his universe. Ah, well, it might be for the best. New things and different thoughts were good for one.
It was only two weeks later that Ray brought up the subject again. A new case they'd been working on - involving theft of member records from a gay club - had gotten him thinking about it, even though he'd sworn to put it out of his mind and just get on with being Fraser's friend.
He blurted it out one day while they were waiting in the foyer to question the manager of said club. "Fraser, are you gay?"
"What?"
"You heard me."
"I don't know, Ray. How does one measure such things?" He was about to launch into a discussion of various reports on sexuality when the manager arrived and there was no time to continue the discussion.
Ray was perched on the edge of Fraser's desk as they discussed the problem. "I can see why someone would want the records. They could out all the members in no time. And if we're to believe the manager, there are some pretty influential people on that list."
Fraser, sitting in the chair, cocked an eyebrow at him. "Blackmail, you think?"
"Yeah, why not? Either that or a newspaper looking for a hot story."
Their eyes locked. "Blackmail," they both said.
"We need a copy of the list," Ray said next. "They surely have copies. We'll have to question everybody."
They decided to question only people on the list who might have something to lose if they were outed - people in the government, the higher-ups, people with money. But the manager didn't want them to have the list. He swore up and down that he didn't have copies, and wouldn't name names. "Pardon me for asking," Fraser said politely, "but are you gay yourself?"
"Yeah, but everybody knows it so no one's gonna blackmail me."
"All right. And imagine that you're a member who comes here because he feels safe. Imagine that you discover your name in the papers one day. Or that you get a phone call asking for money, based on your name being on the list. Do you think you'll ever come back? Do you think anyone you know will ever come back? I don't think I would."
"You don't know anything about it, Constable - " the man began, then stopped, looking at Fraser appraisingly. "Or am I wrong? Maybe you do." It was a tactic to get Fraser to back off, but of course it didn't work.
At this point Ray knew that most Chicago cops would have hit the guy and stormed out, or gotten mad and gone to try to get a warrant. Either way, the names wouldn't have been obtained. But Fraser simply put on a slight grin, the one he used when he was sure of himself. "Maybe indeed," he agreed. "But I don't have anything to lose. I'm Canadian, employed by the Canadian government, and gays have equal rights in Canada."
"What about *him*?" the manager asked, indicating Ray.
Ray had an incredible urge to yell, say, "Who, me?" and threaten the guy, but he knew that was what the guy wanted. Anyway, Fraser had the lead here, and so Ray let him finish.
"I doubt that Detective Vecchio would condone the theft and broadcast of member records from *any* club," he said.
"But you're close, huh? Partners?"
"Unofficially," Ray chimed in quickly - he just couldn't help himself. It was only after he'd said it that he saw the hurt look in Fraser's eyes. A stab of regret shot through him. He'd have to apologise for that one later. He paced, finally coming to stand right in front of the guy. "Look here, you. I want those records and I want 'em now. Or you'll be wishing you'd given them to me when I'm finished with you! You got me?"
The man threw up his hands. "Don't you understand! They don't *want*
anyone - not even the cops - to know. Some people's reputations are at stake..."
Fraser sighed, looking at Ray. Somehow they were going to get a copy out of him. Somehow. "I personally find hiding one's sexual orientation abhorrent. That is tantamount to living a lie; in fact it *is* living a lie. But no one except the individual can decide that. Sir, please. We'll be discreet. We need to stop this person. We need your help."
The man looked closely at Fraser again. "You understand, don't you?"
Fraser nodded; it was his one concession to the situation. "I understand. I understand fearing for one's livelihood, fearing rejection. I understand the need to hide. But I also know that one cannot give in to blackmail, especially when one hasn't done anything wrong."
"That's a matter of opinion. We both know what some people think..."
"Loving someone isn't wrong," Ray said, surprising both himself and the other two men. They looked up at him, surprised. "What?" he asked. "It's true isn't it?"
Fraser just nodded. "Yes, Ray."
"All right." The manager bowed his head, then got a file from his desk drawer. "This is a printout of the computer backup. It's my last copy. One of my... clients... threatened... well, never mind. I've erased and reformatted the disk."
"One of your clients threatened to kill you? Have you killed?" Ray asked. He could imagine that some clients might not only be rich, but... crooked.
"Something like that. I called each of them, Detective. They know about the records."
"But they don't know that you called the police," stated Fraser.
"No. They're not going to like it."
"They'll like it less if we don't catch the guy and the information is made public," put in Ray.
None of them could argue with that.
They narrowed the list down to thirty-two people who had something to lose if they were outed: people on committees, people who worked for the government, the rich and influential - people with money. Since Fraser wasn't active in the gay community he didn't know if any of them were already out, and the club's manager just shrugged when Ray called him. "They're all 'out' here. Sure, some are married, but you get co-operative wives... I'm sure you know the score."
"Unfortunately, yeah. Thanks." Ray put down the phone and looked at Fraser across his desk. "Looks like we'll have to question all of them."
Fraser nodded, getting up and grabbing his hat.
"I know - why don't you take half of them, and I take half? Cut down on time."
"I don't have a car, Ray. It might be easier..." he trailed off as Ray walked into Lieutenant Welsh's office and returned a few moments later with a set of keys.
"Here. I requisitioned you a car. I'll take sixteen, you take sixteen."
They divided up the names according to area and went out to question all the people. Fraser discovered that the club's manager had been right and that few of them took kindly to being asked questions about the little 'problem'. Five of Fraser's sixteen people were already out and didn't mind, but most of the others were extremely uncooperative. All denied being approached by any blackmailer. Seven fed Dief. Three came on to Fraser. Fraser took it all in stride, outwardly at least, leaving his would-be seducers feeling rather foolish.
Ray Kowalski, however, was boiling mad when he met up with Fraser at the precinct. "That's it! I'm not questioning one more person, Fraser!"
"What's wrong, Ray?"
"Wrong? What's wrong? Oh, I'll tell you. A couple of mine were, you know, 'out'. And one of them came *on* to me!"
Fraser just looked at him. "And?"
"What do you mean, 'and'? He made... you know... remarks."
"Three did the same to me, Ray. It happens, and you handle it."
"Okay, tell me how you handled it! I'm dying to know, here!"
Fraser blushed. He didn't like telling people his secret. But Ray got it right away.
"You do that innocent Mountie act, don't you? You give them that 'I'm clueless' look." When Ray said that, he saw pain in Fraser's eyes. "Fraser?"
Fraser just closed his eyes and shook his head.
"What did I say? Geez, I'm sorry. I'm also sorry for what I said back there at the club, you know, open mouth, insert foot, that's me."
"It's not that, Ray. It's just... Ray - my Ray - used to call that 'the big-eyed Mountie look'."
"You miss him." It wasn't a question.
"Yes. And ever since I spoke to these people, I..." He shook his head violently. "I have to go, Ray. Can we continue this tomorrow? It's late." And he walked out without another word, leaving Ray staring after him.
Ray sighed. He could guess why Fraser was rattled. Fraser's lover had left town, and there was no one here who could comfort him. Well, there was Frannie, but she hardly counted because Ray could see she scared Fraser. Hell, she scared him too sometimes! Ray thought that Meg Thatcher had a
crush on Fraser, but he knew nothing would happen there. They were both way too uptight.
Ray knew that seeing all those people of the same persuasion as himself had probably reminded Fraser of what he was missing. And he knew Fraser wouldn't look for some cheap thrills to try to block out the emptiness the way he, Stanley Raymond Kowalski, would have. Scratch that, *had* after his divorce from Stella. Stella, whom he still loved.
It was a revelation to Ray to realise that he was equating his marriage to Stella to Fraser's relationship with Ray Vecchio. The two were different, weren't they? But as he thought about it, the only difference he could see - aside from the obvious - was that Fraser and Vecchio hadn't been married. They hadn't had a piece of paper that bound them together. And Ray also knew that if there *had* been such a piece of paper, his counterpart would never have been asked to take the assignment.
Everything fell into place, and Ray saw how tactless he'd been. Questioning Fraser about his sex life, for G-d's sake! Asking him something he had no right to ask.
Ray carefully filed the member list - he still had six people to see - and left for the Consulate to apologise to his friend.
Ray found Fraser already in his longjohns, but he wasn't sleeping. He was sitting at his desk looking at something.
"Fraser?" Ray came around behind the desk so that he could see as well. As he'd thought, it was the postcard of Vecchio and Fraser together. He decided to speak before he lost his nerve. "Fraser, I wanna say I'm sorry, okay? For my attitude, for asking you that stuff about you and him. It wasn't any of my business. There's nothing even *wrong* with it, but I acted like there was. I was a jerk, and I'm sorry."
"You weren't a jerk, Ray." The Mountie's head didn't lift, he just put down the postcard and carried on staring into space. "Your attitude was remarkably mild compared to some people I've come across."
"Still, I'm sorry. You two had something, and I trivialized it."
"It's all right, Ray."
There was a tremble in Fraser's voice, Ray heard it clearly. He knew all at once that Fraser was trying, politely, to get him to leave. He heard a whine, and looked down, to see Dief with his muzzle on Fraser's leg. The wolf looked distressed for his companion.
Ray knelt down and looked up into his partner's face. "Fraser?" Fraser looked at him. There were tear tracks on his cheeks and his eyes were just a tad too bright. "You haven't done anything to offend me," he said at last. "This isn't about you."
"You miss him. You miss... everything." It was the best he could do, under the circumstances.
Fraser nodded. "I was perfectly fine. I was. And today, when I was questioning those people..."
"You realised what you were missing?"
"More than that, I found myself... considering their offers."
Ray fought the urge to interrupt, to try and get out of hearing this. He did it by remembering the women he'd lost himself in after he'd broken up with Stella. This was no different, he reminded himself. "I understand," he finally said, when he saw Fraser waiting for a response.
"Do you, Ray? You're *divorced*. Stella is your *ex*-wife. If you want to... find comfort... with another, you have nothing stopping you. But I *promised*... I promised Ray..."
"Didn't you say he wouldn't expect you to wait?"
"We discussed it, hypothetically, before he went away, yes. But finding comfort with a stranger... That's not me. It would be a betrayal of myself as well."
Ray didn't say what he was thinking: that there were probably many female acquaintances who would have delighted in comforting him. He just moved forward and hugged Fraser, and was surprised when Fraser's arms went around him and hugged him in return. He tried to be disgusted or discomfited by this, he really did, but all he felt was... sympathy. Empathy. He knew what his friend was going through, and wanted to help.
Ray pulled away finally, looking uncertainly into Fraser's face. He tried to think of something to say, but the look in those sky-blue eyes stopped him. Without saying a word, Fraser slid off the chair and knelt on the floor in front of him, hugging him once more. Ray wondered why he wasn't terrified, why he hadn't slugged this person, why he was *letting* Fraser hug him in a more-than-friendly way. He managed to drag his mind back from these concerns when he realised Fraser had spoken. "What?" he asked quietly.
"I don't love you," Fraser repeated.
"I don't want you to love me, Fraser," Ray said, pulling back. "You need this. Touch. Someone to hold. I know what it's like, trust me. And you're my friend, so I'm helping you. That's it. End of discussion." He leaned forward, unable to believe what he was going to do, and kissed the Mountie. Full on the mouth. Passionately. If he let Fraser get a word in the man
would talk all night. Ray thought he'd had enough analysis for one evening, thank you. Right now he just wanted the hurt look, the loneliness, the sadness, to be gone from that incredibly handsome face. Even if only for a little while.
Ray allowed his mouth to open, allowed the kiss to deepen, amazed that he was actually doing this instead of throwing up somewhere. He'd never been homophobic... exactly... but the thought of this had always turned him off. And here he was, actually *kissing* a man! Not just kissing him, but enjoying it, wanting things to go further...
That thought brought him back to reality, and Ray panicked, struggling out of the embrace. "Oh, G-d!"
Fraser's face was flushed and his eyes were dilated, but he immediately accepted the apparent retreat. "It's all right, Ray."
The hurt was still in those eyes, Ray saw. More than that, the fact slammed home that his friend really *was* gay, and was attracted to him. Why the hell had he done this? He got up from the floor and began to pace in the small office. "It's not all right, okay Fraser? It's not! It just isn't! I want to do this for you, but I'm scared. It scares me, okay?" "I think you should leave." Fraser was standing behind his desk now, looking more impassive than ever. Except for the eyes, from which pain still radiated.
Ray stopped pacing. "No. I can do this."
For the first time in his life Ray Kowalski saw the Mountie get angry. "You... you can 'do' this, Ray? This isn't some experiment I'm running for your sake. This is my *life* we're talking about. My feelings, which despite what you may think I do have. This isn't some sacrifice you have to make on the altar of friendship. Just... just go." Ray watched as his friend sank back down into the chair.
"I..." he began, but he had no idea what to say. Fraser was right. "Okay." He walked out of the little office, closing the door behind him.
Angie was waiting outside his apartment when he got there. "Ange? Is something wrong?"
She smiled, a little nervously. That encounter in court had gone smoothly, but it was still a little weird to hear this stranger call himself Ray Vecchio. "Nothing wrong, I just have some papers for you to sign. Formalities, lawyer stuff. They need it for the university."
Ray smiled at her. "Sure. Come on in."
He got her settled on the couch with a cup of coffee while he read and signed the papers. He was getting too good at forging Vecchio's signature, he realised. Way too good. He skimmed the papers one more time. In it he, Raymond Vecchio, was agreeing to pay a percentage of the tuition of Angela Viera (formerly Angela Vecchio), to be negotiated bi-annually. Everything seemed in order. He dropped the pen, shoved everything back in the envelope, and plunked himself down next to Vecchio's ex-wife, handing the envelope to her. "Here ya go. Coffee okay?"
Angie smiled. "Very good. But you're not okay."
"Geez, have you been taking lessons from Ma?"
"Who?"
"*His* mother. She likes me a lot. Feeds me pasta. Nags me about stuff."
"I didn't need to take lessons, Ray. I'm Italian, we just know these things."
"Not," said Ray.
"Not," Ange agreed amiably. "But it wasn't hard to guess. You look like hell."
Somehow, Ray knew he could talk to this woman, this woman who had loved and married his counterpart. "I feel like hell. I came on to Fraser, then found I couldn't handle it. I hurt him."
"Why did you do it?"
"He misses him, Ange. You should see the pain in his eyes. He needs someone... something to hold onto. I wanted to be that someone for him, but I got scared. He made himself a promise that he wouldn't have sex just for the sake of it, and I thought my being a friend would help, but it just... I wanted it, but I really screwed up."
"You backed out at the last minute." It was more of a statement than a question.
"Yeah... no. Well, not at the last minute, but I backed out. Then I made things worse by saying, 'I can do this'. He took offense, and I don't blame him. I made him sound like a charity case!"
"*Did* you want to do it?" When no answer was forthcoming Angie prodded a little more. "*Did* you want to make love with him?"
"No... yeah... I dunno. I've never done that before, okay? Never once thought about it or anything. I got scared."
"Ray." Angie sat closer and took his hand. "It's good that you want to help Fraser. I just think... you need to decide if it's okay *for you*, if you can handle it. You need to think it through more than this."
"You're right." He stood and ran a hand through his hair. "You're right."
"I know." Angie stood as well. "I gotta go. Thanks for signing the papers." She kissed him on the cheek and let herself out when he just stood there.
Ray tried to lose himself in a dance routine. He put on the fastest music he had and danced for all he was worth, but even as he went through the routine
he did it on autopilot because he was thinking about the Mountie. The kisses had been fine. He could handle kisses. It was the other stuff...
Could he let Fraser do... *that*... to him? Maybe they didn't just have to do *that*. There were lots of other things they could do, he knew. And could he touch Fraser that way? He thought so. Surely it wouldn't be that much different... it would only be different when they got below the belt. No! Don't think like that. Maybe the other stuff would come naturally. Naturally?! Yeah, right. Ray reminded himself, over and over: loving someone isn't wrong. Expressing need isn't wrong. Helping a friend out isn't wrong either.
Ray closed his eyes and danced on, trying to see it: himself and this strange, interesting, bizarre, friendly, almost innocent man, together. In bed maybe.
In bed... Ray got a sudden, blinding image of Fraser touching him, touching his body, and the image was both terrifying and arousing. Ray missed a step and banged into the coffee table. "Ow! Dammit!" He stopped dancing, breathing so fast he was almost hyperventilating from the exertion. He went into the bathroom and wiped his face, but he had his answer at least. He *could* do it. More than that, he could *want* it, or at least, he could handle it.
He realised he needed to handle it. He needed to make up for tonight, at any rate.
Tomorrow he'd apologise and try to explain. Tomorrow.
Fraser was at the precinct going over the list when he got there. He looked up at Ray's approach, but for the first time a smile didn't appear on those innocent features. "Ray." Only a slight pause, then, "I see there are still six people to interview. Why don't I come with you, it shouldn't take that long."
"Yeah. Okay." Ray fidgeted with his holster and gun for a second, then grabbed Fraser by the jacket and propelled him along the corridor and into the closet, cutting off any protests his friend tried to make. "Listen, Fraser, I'm sorry about last night. I really was a jerk. I did make you sound like a charity case, and I didn't mean it that way. I know what it's like, Fraser, really I do. I want to be there for you, that's all."
"Why does that equate to sex in your mind, though?"
Good question. "I dunno. I guess yesterday, when you said you'd considered the offers of those men, I... I thought..." He didn't know exactly what he'd thought - that was the problem, he knew.
"Ray. I appreciate your wanting to help me. But you're not gay, or even bisexual, and I won't let you do something that you see as compromising yourself in order to be helpful."
Ray was terribly afraid of asking the next question, but he had to. He had to know where he stood, because then he'd know how to proceed. "Fraser, tell me the truth. Do you want to, you know, do it with me?"
"Ray..."
"Just yes or no. I need to know."
"I..." A long sigh. "Yes. But that doesn't mean anything, Ray. Nothing has to happen."
"What if I want something to happen? And not because I feel sorry for you, Fraser. Because I'm your friend and this can be a part of it."
Fraser sighed again. "Ray..."
Ray opened the door. "We can talk more later, if we need to. Let's go finish those interviews, huh?"
"All right, Ray."
They got no joy from any of the last six people, either, and Ray was very frustrated. "Well that did us a whole lot of good! Two days and zip!" They were driving back to the precinct. Ray turned to Fraser, who was staring out of the window. "Fraser?"
"What? Oh, I'm sorry. I was just thinking about what the club manager said when we questioned him the second time. Some people don't want anyone - not even the cops - to know."
"Yeah, so?"
"So now we do. We filed the list along with all the other paperwork. Ray, what if blackmail wasn't the motive?"
"What are you talking about?"
"What if someone - someone militant - wanted these people's orientation to become a part of the public record somehow? Even if that is only as a file in a file cabinet in one precinct?"
"But *why*, Fraser? What good would it do?"
"Some gay people disagree with those who keep their real selves a secret, but there's a lot of anger towards those who out others publicly without their permission. Maybe this is an attempt to out those people in a different way. Now two other people know. And more will know when they read the file. Eventually it will get out; it's human nature."
"Why go to a gay club if you're trying to hide? It doesn't make sense."
"Not all the members actually go. Some clubs have these lists so they can arrange contacts."
"Like a gay dating agency."
"Yes. And an exclusive club such as this would promise complete confidentiality."
"So you're saying when the list was stolen that went out the window. What you're saying, Fraser, is that the person who stole that list outed everyone
just with the act of stealing it?"
"Yes."
"And we won't catch him, will we?"
"There are close to four hundred names there. I'd say many of those are people who disagree with staying in the closet. If we were to question each person we'd be playing right into the hands of the person who did this."
"Yeah - because we can't question all four hundred on our own. We'd need help..."
"Exactly. More people would find out."
"It's insidious, Fraser."
"Indeed."
"So what do we do?"
"We'll need Lieutenant Welsh's permission, but I'd say to remove the list from the file."
"Yeah, and double-check that no one has contacted anyone and tried to blackmail them."
"Yes, Ray."
"We can do that."
Lieutenant Welsh agreed to remove the list. Ray put in a notation saying that the list would be available from the club's manager, and they went over there to return it. The man hadn't gotten any blackmail threats, and none of the members had, either. Ray noted their conclusion in the file when they got back, and closed the case. But there was still an open case as far as himself and Fraser went...
"Fraser, let's go back to my place, okay? We'll order takeout, we'll have dinner..."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Ray."
"Please." They were still in the precinct, and Ray couldn't say all he wanted to. He just hoped his eyes were saying what he couldn't say aloud.
Fraser gave in, all the way. "All right, Ray."
They sat at Ray's apartment eating Chinese takeout, but they didn't say much. Ray was feeling nervous but excited at the same time, almost as if he was... looking forward to this.
Finally, they were finished eating, and Ray turned from putting the cartons in the trash to try and have that talk now, only to find Fraser right behind him.
"Fraser?"
"Quiet, Ray."
Suddenly the Mountie's mouth was covering his and he was being kissed to within an inch of his life. And he was enjoying it, knowing that this time he wouldn't panic and back out. But he was backed into a corner of his kitchen, and he didn't like the powerless feeling that gave him. Ray pulled away, his eyes bright with... yes, it *was* desire. He couldn't quite believe it, believe this, even as he said, "If we're going to do anything... bed."
Fraser said nothing but walked towards the bedroom, pulling Ray with him, pulling Ray right down on top of him as he lay down on the bed. Ray could feel the hardness beneath him, feel Fraser's desire, but what was more... his own matched it. The thought was thrilling. Scary, but thrilling.
Fraser didn't let him say anything, even as he undid the buttons on the detective's shirt and slipped his hands underneath, to pull away the undershirt and touch bare skin.
Ray arched against him, his mind reeling as he wondered how the hell just being touched could feel so good. He wanted to reciprocate the caress, and thanked his lucky stars that Fraser had removed the red tunic before they'd started eating. He began to pull the regulation undershirt up, so that he too could feel bare skin.
A man's skin greeted him: warm and soft but not the same texture as skin he was used to touching. It was different, but no less good for all that. He just looked into those blue eyes as they touched each other, never saying a word. Then all at once he was seized and flipped, and he was looking up, rather startled, at the Mountie. Those eyes regarded him in all seriousness, then the clothes on his upper body were removed and Fraser's head dipped and began to kiss him: each collarbone was kissed, then the kisses moved inward, and downward.
Ray was not particularly sensitive in the chest area, but then he hadn't counted on a sensuous Canadian. Lightning shot through his nerves as kisses became licks on smooth skin and tiny bites across his nipples. Ray grabbed the bedlinen with his free hand as his other hand stroked what bare skin it could find. But Fraser still had his undershirt and suspenders on.
"Please..." Ray begged, trying for coherence. He still couldn't believe how *erotic* this was, how being with a man could be so arousing. "Take... take it off."
Fraser sat up suddenly and pulled his undershirt over his head, then stood up and removed his pants, boots, socks and underwear as well.
Ray couldn't look; he had his eyes closed as he felt Fraser next to him, as Fraser pulled the rest of his clothes off as well. But then... nothing. Ray opened his eyes, to find himself being regarded with tenderness. "What?"
"You are... good to look at, Ray."
"Thanks, Fraser." Involuntarily, Ray's eyes dropped and he saw what he'd been trying to avoid. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes again.
A warm body spooned itself next to him, and lips kissed the side of his neck. "It scares you." It wasn't a question.
Ray tried to reply, to be honest without being a jerk. "Yeah, but I do
want it. It's just... I've never been with a guy. Never touched another guy... you know."
"Touching can come later," Fraser said, and moved away to kiss a path downwards, smiling a little as he tasted the slight tang of pre-ejaculate on his friend's lower belly. Ray did find this arousing, but the mechanics scared him. Fraser smiled as he lavished special attention just above the pubic hair, wanting to drive his friend crazy. He remembered how scared he and Ray, the Ray he loved, had been the first time they had done this. And he had done the same then as he did now: broken the ice by doing something that he was positive all men liked.
Ray yelled as that mouth suddenly engulfed him. There'd been no preamble, no tentative licks, nothing like that, just this sudden wet heat around his erection, making him arch upwards, helplessly. "G-d! Fraser!" At that he expected Fraser to stop, but the Mountie simply increased his attentions, adding suction.
Ray thought he'd go out of his mind, but then he was distracted as he felt a hand move around and *under* him, into the cleft of his buttocks. "No!"
Everything stopped, but the hand didn't move. He looked down to see Fraser's mouth still poised over him, but the eyes were looking back at him, concerned. "Trust me, Ray."
"Not... not that, Fraser. Not yet." It came out sounding plaintive.
"Trust me." The head bent to take him in again, and Ray lay back down on the pillow. The sight of *Fraser* doing that to him was just too much. He just lay there and felt... as fingers reached into the cleft and he felt one finger gently touch the opening of his body... gently... And that was all it took. He came with a cry, sensations crashing in on him as that mouth was removed and he spilled himself into the air, the seed landing mostly in his pubic hair and on his stomach.
He could sense Fraser waiting until it was completely over, and then the Mountie crawled up to lie next to him. "Good, Ray?"
He opened his eyes and saw a satisfied smile on that face. "Oh, yeah, Fraser. I'm sure the yell was, like, a clue."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it."
Ray would have been glad to just lie there and drift, but he had to know something. "When you touched me... you know, there... were you going to... I mean..."
"No. That was the extent of it. That's an area of one's body that few people are used to thinking of as an erogenous zone, but with care one's thinking can be readjusted."
"Geez, you sound like you're giving a lecture, Fraser."
Fraser just kissed him, ignoring that comment, and Ray realised belatedly that he had given nothing back.
"What about... I mean, I wanted to do this for you, and I just..."
"I wanted to do it." Fraser rolled on top of him, then, trapping his hardness between their bodies, beginning to move very slowly against him.
"No." Ray was surprised when he said it.
Fraser looked down at him, his eyes widening.
"Let me... let me touch you."
"You don't have to..."
"I know that. I want to." Ray waited for Fraser to move off to the side, then he reached between them and found Fraser's erection, a little slick with the juices it had gathered against his body.
He was actually touching another man's penis. He was actually going to make another man come by doing this. Ray smiled, the idea no longer foreign to him, as he ran his fingers along the entire length, his thumb caressing the head.
Fraser groaned, and Ray just smiled and kissed him. When they were through exploring each other's mouths, Ray moved away and whispered, "You like this, Fraser?"
"Yes... faster, Ray." His friend's - his *lover's* - body was writhing in time with the touch of his hand, and Ray obeyed and sped up a little, his fingers curling around the shaft purposefully.
It didn't take long at all, especially after he bent his head and began to lick Fraser's chest, adding just a little more sensation for the Mountie to deal with.
"Aaah! Ray!" Fraser arched upwards as he came, spilling himself all over himself and Ray's hand. Ray didn't stop his attentions, either, until the last tremors were over. Then he looked into that handsome face and grinned.
"Liked that, huh?"
Fraser lay back on the pillow, completely sated. "Yes, Ray."
"Me too." He reached underneath them to pull the bedclothes down, managing to maneuver them into the bed, after which he pulled the bedclothes over them.
For a long time they just lay there holding each other, until finally Fraser spoke. "Thank you."
"I wanted to do it. No biggie."
"I know it was difficult for you, Ray. But I won't pretend I'm not grateful. I am. Profoundly."
Ray heard what his friend was not saying. "But you still miss him."
"Yes."
"You still love him."
"I'll always love him."
"Yeah. I miss Stella every day. Every single day, Fraser. I love her."
"I know."
"But at least we're here for each other, huh? We can be here for each other, can't we?" It wasn't a question, because Ray plunged on. "And you can teach me more about loving a man. It isn't nearly so hard as I thought it'd be. I really liked it. I wanna learn the other stuff."
Fraser looked at him, trying to see if that was the truth. "Really?"
"Yeah, really."
"All right, Ray."
"Go to sleep, Fraser."
"Yes, Ray."
Fraser fell asleep first, and as he lay there listening to his lover breathe, Ray knew that it wasn't only Fraser who'd been comforted here tonight. He hadn't known it at the time, but he'd been seeking comfort just as badly. In comforting a friend, he had found comfort himself.
It wasn't such a bad deal, Ray Kowalski thought as he, too, drifted off to sleep. Not such a bad deal at all.
THE END