Drama, Rated R for M/M content. (Nothing very explicit - that's in part 3.)

Fraser was absolutely sure he'd never see Ray again. When Ray arrived at his door around noon, he nearly fainted.

"You offered to play native guide, Benny." Ray said firmly, not letting Fraser get a word in edgewise.

"So I did." Fraser agreed solemnly, but his blue eyes glowed. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I was looking over the brochures..." Ray pulled a huge wad of tourist maps, brochures, flyers and coupons out of the bag he carried. "There's Mackenzie King's estate. I'm kinda curious, since I dated her once."

"Ray, the Mackenzie King estate was the summer home of William Lyon Mackenzie King, one of our Prime Ministers." Fraser pointed out with a sigh.

"I was teasing, Benny. I did read the brochure." Ray grinned.

"I'd love to show you, but it's in Chelsea and I'm not sure when the buses run out there."

"Buses?" Ray looked shocked. "Why can't we drive?"

"I don't have a car." Fraser said. Or a license, he added silently.

"I do." Ray held out a set of keys, dangling them from his long fingers. "I rented one for a couple of days."

"Then let's go." Fraser picked up his wallet and motioned for Dief to follow and they left.

"Ray, I..." Fraser began, as soon as they were on the road.

"Which way?" Ray asked.

"Which way?" Fraser echoed. Ray waved toward the signs.

"Which way? Across the bridge into Quebec or along the parkway?"

"Oh. Across the bridge, then turn left." Fraser gave directions. "There are signs to Chelsea from there."

"So, Benny, who is this Mackenzie King guy, anyway? Anything interesting about him?"

"Actually, yes. He was prime minister of Canada for twenty six years, our longest running prime minister."

"Twenty six years?"

"There is no limit to the number of terms for a Prime Minister, Ray. He was also thought to be quite strange."

"Strange? In what way?"

"Well, he never married.."

"That's considered strange in Canada?"

"No. However his habit of picking up prostitutes off the streets of Toronto was considered a little odd."

"Where I come from that wouldn't be odd. The end of their political career, maybe, but not odd."

"He never... well, you know... with them. He just bought them dinner and tried to convince them to give up their sinful ways."

"Did he succeed?" Ray asked, amused.

"Not that history records, Ray." Fraser smiled. "He was also noted for his interest in spiritualism."

"Spiritualism? Like new agey religion?"

"Seances and such. He believed he could contact the dead." Fraser nodded. "As well, he used to get political advice from his mother and his dog."

Ray gave a hoot of laughter.

"I can see getting advice from a dog would be a little weird, but what's wrong with getting advice from your mother? I get advice from mine all the time."

"She was dead at the time, Ray." Fraser was perfectly deadpan.

"So that explains the seances. Well, I guess she must have given good advice for a stiff, if he was in office for so long."

They got to the estate and wandered at will over the beautiful grounds. Ray enjoyed the tour very much, less for the pretty scenery and more for the political commentary that Fraser told him as they walked. For once, Fraser's pedantic speeches were appropriate to the occasion and he made Ray laugh with his stories. Freed for once from the polite reserve, Fraser entertained Ray with the spicier stories of Canadian history.

Ray was bemused by the ruined Abbey.

"Actually, it isn't an abbey at all. It's made up of bits and pieces of Ottawa buildings. That part is the window from the Bank of Montreal and the doorway is a piece of the old Parliament buildings." Fraser pointed to the north "altar" and the east gate. Ray, who felt an urge to cross himself and genuflect, shook his head.

"Well, if this never was an abbey, it should have been."

"I believe King felt the same way."

After a long ramble, Fraser introduced Ray to a regional dish, at the insistance of Diefenbaker. As they passed a chip wagon on the drive back to Ottawa, Dief whined so pitiously that

Ray asked what was wrong. This led to Fraser explaining and to Ray stopping the car in front of one of the many chip wagons along Laurier Avenue.

"It's called poutine." Fraser said, trying to keep the disapproval out of his voice as Ray sampled his first bite. French fries and fresh cheese curds smothered in rich, thick gravy.

"It's delicious." Ray commented, moving to avoid lupine theft of his snack. "Mind you, I can hear my arteries harden."

Fraser bought a fruit juice and watched Ray share with Dief. It was useless to protest Dief's fondness for poutine. He was known to attack and subdue large men for a share in poutine.

"You pay and you pay and you pay...." He muttered.

Back in the city, they left the car at the hotel and walked along Sparks Street. All summer, the Sparks Street mall had buskers up and down the street.

Ray, fond of good jazz, stopped and sat on a bench, listening to the jazz trio who were playing up a storm.

Fraser sat as well and watched Ray. Ray's eyes were closed and his fingers tapped in time to the music.

Today had been wonderful. The tension that had been there yesterday was gone as if it had never been. However, the intimacy was gone as well. Ray had behaved all day as if last night had never happened and they were still best friends.

Once that would have been enough. Once that would have been manna to his starving soul. Now, it was almost torture to have Ray so close, but so far away.

Ray was listening to the jazz, his soul responding to the rich rhythm. Yet, he was acutely aware of the man sitting next to him, of the blue eyes watching him intently. He was also acutely aware of two conflicting emotions. He was glad and relieved that he and Fraser were still friends. He was disappointed to have Fraser accept meekly returning to the friendship they had. Part of him wanted to stay with this comfortable old relationship, part of him wanted to explore the new.

The thought of those strong hands touching him, and those firm lips kissing his.... He cut off the thoughts ruthlessly and stretched.

"Hungry?" He glanced at Fraser. "Maybe we could call for pizza from your place. I don't think the hotel would be too keen on having pizza delivered there and I'm not up to going out. Uh, you do have a phone, Benny, don't you?"

"Yes." Fraser answered, thinking. He was confused. Ray had behaved all day as if last night had never happened, yet he was offering to be alone with him. Maybe he was giving them a chance to talk it out. Maybe he had a speech all planned. Maybe he wanted to repeat the experience...

Ray waited. He had deliberately made the offer to be alone with Fraser, wondering what Fraser would do. He knew they had to talk eventually; now was as good a time as any. He still didn't know what he wanted to say or how he felt, but he was sure that time would not give him the answers. Only talking it out would resolve their relationship.

Despite both of them firmly resolving to talk about it, the pizza was down to the last slice before they ran out of conversation. Dief watched hopefully as they talked, looking from one to the other, hoping to snag that slice for himself. Seeing the look, Ray picked up the slice and fed it to him, much to Fraser's disgust.

"Ray, I wish you wouldn't feed Diefenbaker junk food. I'm trying to wean him off it."

"He's hungry." Ray defended himself. "Besides, you eat it, why can't he?" Dief whined in agreement.

"Because he's a wolf." Fraser looked sternly at Diefenbaker, then relaxed. "He doesn't listen to me anyway. Why do I even bother?"

Ray grinned and took another swig of beer.

"He's deaf, Benny. He doesn't listen to anybody." It was Ray's personal opinion that Dief was no more deaf than he was, but he played along with Fraser's adamant excuses for the wolf's behaviour.

"He can lip read." Fraser glared at the wolf, who innocently licked his chops and gave his most benign expression.

Ray bent down to give Dief a scratch behind the ears and ruffled his fur.

"I should get going." He said. "See you tomorrow, Benny."

As he went to the door, Fraser automatically stood and went as well, like a good host. However, he didn't open the door for Ray; he reached out to gently touch his friend's arm. Ray froze, then made a quick decision.

"Fraser..." He began, determined to start the talk he had been trying to start all day. Fraser stopped his words with his mouth, kissing him. Unlike last night, there was no hesitation. The kiss was direct, passionate and masterful.

Ray leaned into his friend, shifting into the strong arms moving to embrace him. He accepted the simple fact that his friend wanted him in bed, and that he wanted to be there.

Whatever emotional turmoil he felt, the physical attraction was unmistakable.

He did not see the blazing smile on Fraser's face; he was being held too closely, their bodies pressed full length.

He didn't reject me, Fraser thought, his whole being alive with joy. I love you, I love you, I love you, he repeated silently. He dared not say it aloud, but he tried to say it with his hands, his lips, his body.

Ray, in a haze of pleasure, did not simply allow himself to be seduced. His own hands and lips were as busy as Fraser's. They explored and tested and experimented with each other, without any awkwardness. Both of them shed whatever inhibitions they would normally have had and tried whatever struck their fancy.

After long and wildly exciting foreplay, Ray entered Fraser, bringing them both to a shattering climax.

This time, it was Fraser who fell asleep almost immediately. He was totally relaxed, satiated and very happy.

"I love you," he murmured softly, just as his eyelids closed.

Ray propped himself up on one elbow to look at Fraser. His dark hair was ruffled and his lip looked slightly swollen. He looked beautiful.

With a thoughtful frown, Ray slid out of bed and dressed. Dief wandered in and sat at his feet, looking at him steadily and seriously. Ray bent to give the wolf a fur ruffle.

"I don't know, Dief." He said quietly. "I just don't know."

Letting himself out quietly, Ray walked back to the hotel. Several of the girls on the street corner tried to proposition him, but he ignored them. A block later, he was shaken out of his reverie by a rude shove.

"Hey, man, this is my turf." A young blond punk told him belligerently. Ray gave a caustic smile.

"Do I look like somebody who gives a shit?"

"Watch your mouth, asshole. Who do you think you are?"

"A cop." Ray flashed his badge. It was dark enough that the punk really couldn't tell it wasn't an Ottawa badge. "If you wanna know more, just keep mouthin' off. If you wanna enjoy the great outdoors, fuck off and mind your own business."

Ray smiled to himself, watching the punk turn purple. He moved automatically to a subtle fighting stance. He was perfectly willing to take this punk on. The kid looked about ready to deck him, until another punk grabbed his friend.

"Cool it, man. We don't want trouble with the police." Unhappily, the punks moved off and Ray resumed his walk.

Ignoring the well behaved drunks and polite beggers on Rideau Street, he walked past the hotel and along to the Hill. Sitting on the edge of the fountain, he thought hard about the whole situation with Fraser.

Fraser loved him. It was a sobering thought. It was also bizarre to think that his friend felt that way about him. He wondered how long this had been going on. He realised that the sexual tension was not new, that they had been at least partly attracted to each other for a long time. It was something that happened at least once in every police officer's career, an attraction to the one person who knows and appreciates exactly the dangers faced every day. Few officers ever acknowledged it, fewer ever did anything about it, but it was still there. Ray had felt that way about his first partner after making detective, for about a week after a particularly grueling undercover operation. He had ignored it and it faded quickly. Fraser, having been alone most of his life and his career, was probably more vulnerable to it than most.

Yet, Fraser had done nothing during the times when they had been particularly close, not even after the occasions where they nearly died together.

Of course, Benny was a bit of a loner, not letting people into his confidence easily. Ray smiled, thinking about how he had not so much been let into Benny's confidence as had barged his way in through sheer persistance and propiniquity. Maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder, he thought.

But that doesn't explain me, Ray continued, smile fading. How do I feel about him? I like the guy. I can't exactly deny there's something more to it than that.

It was like there were two different Frasers. One, the exasperating friend and partner, the one who had been his friend for two years. The other was this incredibly passionate lover, the one who only recently emerged. He wasn't at all sure his two different relationships with Fraser could be integrated, nor was he sure he wanted them to.

Fraser woke up, as usual, just after dawn. Being near the height of summer, it was barely five thirty, but he felt refreshed and alert. He smiled to himself until he saw his kitchen table. The pizza box was still there, hopefully not yet infested with cockroaches or fruit flies, and several beer bottles littered the table.

He began mechanically tidying up, trying to calculate how many beer he had had the night before. He wasn't much of a drinker. He enjoyed a beer from time to time, but he never had more than two. Ray had, by his calculation, four. Granted, four beer wasn't much and Ray could drink him under the table easily, but Canadian beer was far stronger than what Ray was used to.

"Oh, dear." Fraser realised that he had done it again - taken advantage of his friend while under the influence.

"Nonsense." His father said briskly. "Four beer isn't enough to make any man tipsy."

"Hi, Dad." Fraser glanced at the ghost sitting on the windowsill. "Four beer would put me under the table."

"Yes, I know. You never did develop much of a head for alcohol. In my day, you'd have been laughed off the Force. Did I ever tell you about the time Buck and I were thrown out of barracks in New Brunswick? Just the two of us and a gallon of Chipman's Golden Glow apple cider. Tasted like bad apple juice with kerosene...."

"Dad." Fraser glared at his father, who came out of his reminiscing with a sigh.

"Point is, son, that your friend wasn't intoxicated. Four beer isn't like four glasses of Golden Glow. The man's Italian; probably drinks wine like water."

Fraser nodded to himself reluctantly. Ray was more accustomed to alcohol that he was. As the son of an alcoholic, Ray did not drink to excess and would have stopped far short of intoxication last night.

"So why did he..."

"So why did you?" Fraser, Sr. asked. "Once is permissive; twice is promiscuous."

"I think..." Fraser said slowly. "I think I'm in love with him." Actually, he knew he was, without doubt or question, but it was hard to say so right out loud to his father, even if his father was dead.

"Son, you have the damnedest taste." Bob Fraser sounded disgusted. "Can't you fall for someone who doesn't cause problems?"

"I don't see a problem."

"Just like with Victoria." Fraser, Sr., shook his head. "You fall for someone and nothing else matters."

"If the fact that Ray is male..."

"I don't care if he's a bright blue muskox. I was referring to the fact that he has a life in Chicago. Other than the consulate, there aren't a lot of jobs in Chicago for a Mountie. And I can't see your friend moving to Canada. Then there is the problem that you two can't seem to communicate unless you're working or .. er, um... Well, 'nuff said."

Ray did not wake up until the noonday cannon went off. He jumped straight out of bed, tripped on the covers and nearly brained himself on the bedside lamp.

"What in hell was that?" He exclaimed. Then he sat down, remembering walking by the cannon at Major's Hill Park and Benny telling him that it was fired at noon most of the summer. He knew the park was directly behind the hotel, but not that you could actually hear it from the fifth floor.

Thoroughly wide awake, he showered and dressed. He had tickets to a baseball game and if he didn't hurry, he'd be late. Fraser had declined his invitation to accompany him, so he didn't have to worry about facing that problem until later.

The ball game was great. The Lynx, farm team for the Expos, were better than their major league counterparts, in Ray's opinion. He had intended to cheer for the opposing team, farm team for the Cubs, but decided not to push the issue. The Lynx fans were pretty rabid. Besides, the team sucked.

Once out of the game and on the way back to the hotel, he took a long drive. The countryside was pretty, but his mind wasn't on the scenery. Driving helped him think and he really did need to think about the whole situation with Fraser.

They had to talk. They really had to talk. It was more difficult now that he knew Benny loved him. He could not, in all honesty, say that he loved Benny, nor could he say he did not. He didn't know how he felt about Benny.

He didn't feel any particular attraction until Fraser kissed him. The whole day was just another pleasant, friendly ramble, like any other day spent with Fraser. There was no real tension there, no desire to do anything but talk and laugh and get exasperated and bicker and exchange clever quips. Even after they were alone in Fraser's apartment, he felt no overwhelming need to touch his friend.

Then Fraser kissed him and it was like igniting a powder keg. The attraction flared and he could think of nothing but that firm mouth on his, the hands roaming over his body and the sure knowledge that he would be well and thoroughly loved.

The sex was great, he had to admit. Once past the whole idea of making out with another guy, he had no inhibitions. Anything and everything was permissible, so long as it brought inarticulate moans of pleasure from the firm body next to his.

He felt safe with Fraser. Benny was surprisingly and delightfully experimental, willing to try almost anything. He knew Fraser had a playful, almost fey, side to him; it showed rarely, but it was there. Alone, in bed with an equally playful lover, that side shone brightly.

He frowned. He wanted... He wasn't sure what he wanted. He wanted the friend, the precise, prim, exasperating man who told him Inuit stories and caribou lore. He also wanted the lover who had brought his body to dizzying heights of pleasure.

What he did not want was a love relationship. He didn't want to hold hands, or go on dates with Fraser. Or, God forbid, live with him. The idea of sharing a place with Mr. Persnickety, who couldn't cook an edible meal if his life depended on it gave Ray shudders. Most of all, he did not want to change his life to accomodate a lover. He was comfortable in his home, playing pater familias to the Vecchio clan. He did not want to change that.

Fraser finished meticulously cleaning his apartment. Admittedly, the bathtub did not exactly need to be polished, nor did the mirror exactly need to be resilvered, but cleanliness and upkeep on ones living quarters was to be desired.

When absolutely nothing else needed polishing, cleaning, repairing or tidying, he sat at the kitchen table. Diefenbaker eyed him warily, firmly resolved that three brushings in one day was quite enough.

His day had steadily gone downhill since that morning. He kept expecting Ray to burst in, full of plans for the day. Or for Ray to burst in and beat the hell out of him for what he had said and done in the last two evenings. Neither event came to pass and he began to dread the silence. The telephone, shining with pristine neatness, beckoned. He wanted to call the hotel and ask to be connected to room 507. He hadn't gotten past "hello, Ray" in his mental preparations, but surely he'd think of something. Ray often accused him of memorising the dictionary and its accompanying thesaurus; he should be able to find words.

The joy of their lovemaking was almost completely swamped by hard reality. His father's comments notwithstanding, he was not especially worried about the future. That could be worked out. If he was willing to throw his career and everything he had worked for to be with Victoria, surely he would be willing to quit the Force if necessary to be with Ray. With his skills and talents, it wouldn't be all that hard to find a job in Chicago. And a green card wouldn't be all that difficult to obtain. There was an annual lottery for green cards and he could wait for a while anyway. His savings were enough to tide him over until he could get a permit to work in the United States.

Of course, he didn't want to leave the RCMP, nor would Ray ask him to. Then again, Ray never asked him to do anything at all. And that was the reality he had to face.

He had admitted it; to himself, to his father, to Ray. He loved Ray. And Ray had not replied. He had said nothing, nothing at all. He had just touched and kissed and led him to do things he had never even dreamed he would - could - do. Ray was an unexpectedly... inventive... lover.

Ray obviously enjoyed sex with him. But was it only that? What if it was only that?

The telephone chirped, startling Fraser. Taking a deep calming breath, he picked up the reciever.

"Good afternoon. Fraser residence."

"Good afternoon, Constable Fraser." It was Captain Neilson, his superior officer. She sounded tired, he noted.

"Captain. What can I do for you?"

"Constable Massey has called in sick. I need to you to fill in for him tomorrow."

"Sir. Constable Massey is... is.." Fraser stuttered.

"Part of the Queen's honour guard. I know. You are to report in full dress uniform at eight fifteen sharp at Rideau Hall. Report to me directly. Her Majesty and the Duke of Edinburgh will be arriving at eleven thirty tonight, privately, so you will not be needed until tomorrow."

"Understood."

As he hung up the phone, he made a quick decision. Before he could change his mind, he dialled the Chateau Laurier and asked to be connected to Ray's room.

"'lo." Ray sounded like he was eathing something.

"Ray, it's Fraser."

"Yeah, Benny. What's up?"

"I've had my shift changed for tomorrow. I'm afraid I can't accompany you to the Canada Day celebrations until after six. I've been assigned to the Queen's honour guard."

"Hey, way to go, Benny!" Ray sounded genuinely delighted. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, Ray. Would you like to meet me somewhere after my shift?"

"That'd be great. Where?"

"The hotel lobby would be the best place. We're expecting close to a quarter of a million people on Parliament Hill

tomorrow."

"That's quite the crowd. What time is the Queen gonna be there?"

"Ten twenty." Fraser replied. "If you want a good spot, I'd suggest being on the Hill by seven thirty."

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world, Benny. How often do I get to see royalty?"

"I would presume never, since you live in a republic."

"And proud of it." Ray replied firmly. "But, when in Canada...."

"Does this mean you will start saying 'eh'?" Fraser teased.

"No, eh." Ray laughed. "'Bye, Benny. See you tomorrow."

At precisely eight fifteen, Fraser reported to Captain Neilson, standing straight and tall in his full dress uniform. His buttons were polished, his boots shone and his white gloves were immaculate.

"Constable Fraser." Captain Erica Neilson was equally well turned out. "You will escort the Queen's carriage on horseback. You will dismount at the foot of the stage and stand in front of your horse. When the Queen and the Duke pass by, you will salute smartly and stand at full attention. When Her Majesty begins her speech, you may go to parade rest. When Her Majesty leaves, you will salute again. Then you will spend the rest of the day patrolling the Hill on horseback."

Fraser's eyes gleamed with pride, while a few other officers looked faintly envious. Escort and patrol on horseback was a rare occurance and only used on the most formal of occasions, like Canada Day.

Neilson looked keenly at Fraser. Damn, but he was good looking. A picture perfect Mountie and he could ride, too. This replacement was a real stroke of luck.

Ray was enjoying himself, wandering around in the sunshine. It was a glorious day, sunny and clear, and he found himself smiling at everyone he met. It was easy to smile; everyone he met smiled at him, enjoying the celebrations.

The Snowbirds, the famous jet acrobatic team, flew dozens of passes across the sky, with heartstopping swoops and manouvers. The buskers on Sparks Street did their very best to catch the attention of the crowd. The food venders were frantically busy, with chips and hot dogs and sausages being handed over as soon as they could cook them. The stage in front of the Peace Tower was all set, with the wide screen video screen showing a concert than was taking place in another part of the city.

Ray found a spot on the lawn near the barracade set up for the Queen and Prince Phillip and watched the crowd. A small girl bumped into him and he knelt to see if she was okay.

"'Scuse me." She said, very politely. He grinned at her and got a shy smile back. She had a red maple leaf painted on each cheek. Her parents appeared and touched Ray's shoulder.

"Would you mind if we settled here?"

"No, of course not." Ray said with an expansive gesture, biting back the temptation to point out that, last time he checked, Canada was a free country. They settled down next to him and waited.

"Are you from out of town?" The woman asked, with a friendly smile. "We've come from Halifax to be here for Canada Day. There's nothing quite like celebrating the holiday in Ottawa."

"Yeah. I'm from Chicago." Ray replied.

"Oh. I hope you're having a pleasant stay here." The woman said. "We get a lot of American tourists here. I'm really glad that we can share our holiday with our neighbours to the south."

"Thanks." Ray nodded. He had always heard that Canadians were anti-American, but he had yet to encounter any so far.

The woman turned to keep an eye on her daughter and Ray continued to scan the crowd.

The crowd settled to restless waiting on some sort of signal Ray did not catch. Then he heard the music.

The marching band was coming up Wellington Street, turning smartly at the gate. It was the same ones that had done that ceremony he had seen on his first day.

Then he saw Benny, riding a beautiful black horse, in full Mountie regalia. He looked beautiful. For the first time, he understood the pride Benny felt about the red serge tunic, the silly looking jodhpurs and the obequitous stetson. This was what the outfit was all about.

He was so busy watching Fraser, he almost missed seeing the landau pass by, and the grey haired, middle aged woman who these people called their Queen.

Fraser rode proudly. He blinked several times to keep his eyes free of tears. This was what the uniform was all about. This was why he wore the red tunic with such pride. Escorting the Queen of Canada, showing the flag, showing the pageantry and tradition that was so much a part of Canada. There was no prouder moment in his life than to be honoured with the opportunity to be living example of what the Royal Canadian Mounted Police stood for, and to serve his monarch. Ray listened as the band played "Oh, Canada" and glanced

around him. It was not the exuberant American patriotism that these people showed, but a quiet, firm affirmation of love of country. He saw several people singing along with the National Anthem, faces glowing with pride.

Then the band launched into a slow, stately rendition of "My Country 'Tis of Thee", er, "God Save the Queen". He glanced to see if anyone had noticed that he had started to sing the American patriotic song. Nobody glared at him, so he guessed that nobody had.

After the speech and a short walkabout, the Queen and her Consort left by landau, and the crowd began to disperse to pursue their pleasures.

Ray expected that Benny would be escorting the landau back to Rideau Hall, so he nearly jumped out his skin when he felt the breath of a large animal behind him.

"Hello, Ray." It was Fraser, on horseback. He was smiling and his blue eyes were shining.

"Hey, Benny."

"Did you enjoy the ceremonies?"

"Yeah. It's more..." Ray searched for the right word.

"Stately?"

"Yeah. More stately than our ceremonies. There's something to be said for having a Queen." Fraser raised an amused eyebrow and Ray hastened to add. "Not that I want us to get one, you understand."

"Understood." Fraser grinned. "I have to do a quick patrol around, but I'll be at the Centennial Flame posing for pictures in half an hour if you want to talk to me."

Ray nodded and Fraser trotted off, graceful on the big horse.

"Fraser, what is that on your horse's butt?" Ray asked, as Fraser stood by the horse, talking to tourists.

"It's a maple leaf, Ray."

"How do you get a maple leaf on a horse's butt? Shave it in?"

"Mousse, actually." Fraser replied. "It's a stencil. We put the stencil on the horse's, um, posterior, spray it with styling mousse and brush it backwards. It makes a sharper outline than shaving the hair."

Ray hooted.

"Your horse uses styling mousse?"

"Well, yes."

"Does it have it's own hairdresser?"

"Now that's just silly, Ray."

Fraser bent to talk to a small boy and have his picture taken with the child and Ray wandered away. Benny had work to do and he was starting to get hungry.

At a nearby chip wagon, he ordered poutine and heard a whine somewhere in the vicinity of his knees. He glanced down into a white lupine face, looking at him with heartbreaking cuteness.

"How do you manage to look cute?" Ray asked Diefenbaker, who simply kept up the pitious pose. "All right, I'll share. But you owe me, right?"

Diefenbaker whined in insincere agreement and trotted after Ray to as quiet a spot as possible under the circumstances.

By two, Ray was very tired and decided to go back to the hotel for a nap. He put in a wake up call for quarter to six, the collapsed on the bed. He fell asleep almost immediately. Diefenbaker, who had followed him in unnoticed, jumped on the bed and stretched out next to him.

It was hot, very hot. Ray squirmed, then woke suddenly, eyes wide in fear of a half remembered dream of smothering. Benny had been following him around, far too close. Everywhere he went, Fraser was there. His big frame blocking out the sun, his blue eyes watching his every move. He could feel the heat off that body, far too close. He was never, ever alone, never without that red serge presence close enough to touch, touching him in ways that made him feel like there were little hooks in his flesh that would never let him go.

He rubbed his hands over his face and elbowed the sleeping wolf.

"God. Dief. No wonder I was dreaming of being smothered." He pushed the wolf, who opened one eye, but declined to budge. "You're spoiled, y'know that? If you had to come up here to sleep in air conditioned comfort, couldn't you have taken the other bed?"

He glanced at the clock. It was twenty to six.

Fraser waited patiently in the lobby, paying no attention to the throngs of people milling about. He only had eyes for one person, a slender Italian American guest who was, by now, almost half an hour late.

He was late himself. It took fifteen minutes to hand the horse over to the stablehand, who would ride it to the stables, change out of his uniform and shower and get into the fresh clothes. He wasn't worried. Ray was not as punctual as one might wish, so he hadn't bothered to adjust the time frame to take changing into account.

He saw Ray getting off the elevator and he smiled.

Ray saw Fraser sitting in the lobby. A blazing smile crossed Fraser's handsome face and his whole being lit up. Ray paused for a brief second. He had already decided that he really had to do something about the situation, to tell Fraser that he didn't share his feelings. But he couldn't. Not today. Today

was Fraser's day of pride.

"So what d'you want to do?" Ray asked, by way of greeting.

"Well, there is a concert on the Hill, a street dance, clowns and, of course the fireworks."

"Let's go see what's happening, then."

"Alanis?" Ray looked surprised. "Alanis is playing a free concert?"

"Is she some sort of celebrity?"

"Benny, she's one of the hottest singers around." Ray pushed forward through the crowd.

"According to this, she is from Ottawa, so I presume she was asked to play."

"She's Canadian?" Ray asked. He found a spot to sit down to listen for a while. He liked Alanis, although he would never admit to Frannie that he liked teenage angst music.

Fraser listened with a certain amount of befuddlement. The girl was screaming with all her might into a microphone, her long hair tangled around her face. It was not to his taste, but he had to admit there was something exciting to the throbbing beat of the music blaring from the speakers.

Later, when the Crash Test Dummies took the stage, he was somewhat happier. The lead singer's voice was, unusually, a deep, rich bass. It was uncommon for modern music groups to have such a deep voiced lead singer.

Ray enjoyed the whole concert. He had eclectic tastes in music, ranging from Italian opera to heavy metal. Only when the folk musician, some guy named Valdy, took the stage, did he lose interest.

Fraser was perfectly willing to stay at the concert. He knew very little about music written after the turn of the century, but he did enjoy listening to the music and watching the people around him enjoy themselves. He was perfectly happy watching Ray listen and sway gracefully to the music. He could never achieve the unselfconscious grace of movement Ray had, and it was wonderful to watch.

By the time the concert was over and they had found a chip wagon that still had any cold drinks left, it was starting to get dark.

"Come along, Ray." Fraser said, with sudden decision.

"What?"

"If we want to see the fireworks, we'd better hurry."

"They aren't starting for another hour, Benny."

"I know, but if we want to have a good spot, we'd better find it now."

Taking Ray's hand, he started to weave his way through the throngs of people going toward the hotel. Ray started to protest having Fraser hold his hand, but realised that if he didn't, he'd be hopelessly lost. Everyone was hanging on to their friends with tenacious ferocity, fearing losing them for the rest of the night.

Instead of going to the hotel, Fraser led the way down a staircase just past the Hill, down to the west side of the Rideau Canal. Both of them managed to keep from being trampled, but just barely. Ray lost track of the "sorry"s, "excuse me"s and "pardon me"s he picked up from people bumping into him. He even found himself automatically murmuring apologies to anyone who he bumped into, whether it was his fault or not. He waited for that one asshole to get rude and obnoxious about the crowd, to start a fight, but nothing happened. Everybody seemed to take it as a matter of course that this place would be horribly crowded and getting jostled was just part of being at the Hill on Canada Day.

Fraser led the way along the canal to the river, then turned so that they were walking along the base of the river, below the Parliament buildings. Ray glanced up. There was a steep incline of scrub, then the beautiful, octagonal stone Library. Across the river, he could see the Museum of Civilisation, its oddly graceful curves adding beauty to the scene. Only the venerable and spectacularly ugly E.B. Eddy plant beside it marred the scene. God, Ottawa was a beautiful city.

They walked as far along as they could before reaching the police cordon. Fraser quickly climbed the bank a few feet and settled down.

"What's with the police blockade, Benny?"

"The fireworks are shot from the back of the Parliament buildings, Ray." Fraser turned and pointed. "The debris usually falls into the river, but some will fall along the incline. They simply don't want anyone getting burned by a misfired rocket." "Constable." A soft female voice called to them and Ray was amused to see Fraser scramble to his feet to stand at attention. It was difficult, since they were sitting at a 30 degree angle, but Fraser did manage it.

"At ease." The woman waved a languid hand. "I just thought I'd say hello."

Ray saw it was the RCMP officer he had seen briefly when he first arrived.

"Captain Neilson." Fraser did not salute, but the gesture was evident in his tone of voice.

"I see your friend did find you."

"Yes. Captain Neilson, this is Ray Vecchio."

Ray smiled and nodded, but didn't rise.

"Pleased to meet you, Ray." She smiled back. "I'm Erica

Neilson, Constable Fraser's commanding officer."

"Are you still on duty, Sir?" Fraser asked.

"Well... no." Neilson looked a little embarassed. "Actually, I was just going to use my position to get past the police barricade to get a better view of the fireworks."

Fraser looked shocked at this. Ray laughed.

"There are compensations in carrying a badge, aren't there?"

"Yes. Are you a police officer?"

"Yeah. Chicago PD."

"Oh." Nelson looked suddenly enlightened. "You're the police detective mentioned in Fraser's file."

"That's me." Ray grinned. "Of course, you can't believe everything you read. Benny talked me into it."

"Somehow, I've never thought of Constable Fraser as a "Benny"." Neilson grinned.

"That's 'cause you're Canadian. Nicknames are probably against your constitution or something."

"I'd have to look it up." Neilson replied, dryly. "Have a nice evening, gentlemen."

"Nice woman." Ray commented, watching her walk away. It was a nice view, since she was wearing shorts. "Lots prettier than my commanding officer."

"Yes, she is." Fraser replied, sitting down. "I mean, not that Lt. Welsh isn't... Oh, dear."

"Benny, Welsh is a nice enough guy and a pretty good boss as these things go, but he got hit with an ugly stick a long time ago."

The fireworks were spectacular. The bursts of colour in the sky were awe inspiring. Ray loved fireworks. He lounged on the ground, head on Fraser's shoulder and watched with sheer delight. When he first settled down, he was a bit selfconscious about using Fraser as a pillow, but the ground was rocky. Besides, everybody seemed to be leaning on everybody else. One couple was sitting very close, using his legs as a backrest. He felt comfortable, relaxed and very much a part of this celebration.

After the fireworks ended, they stayed where they were. Most of the crowd started to melt away, but Fraser didn't stir.

"We may as well wait, Ray. Neither of us have far to go and the streets will be jammed for hours." He murmured in Ray's ear.

They stayed there until almost everyone had gone. Ray stirred himself from his comfortable postition and twisted to look at Fraser.

"Benny..." Even in the dark, Fraser's blue eyes were perfectly clear, looking at him with steadfast sincerity. Ray lost what he was going to say and leaned forward, just as Fraser leaned forward to kiss him. Their lips met.

"Not here. Come with me." Fraser whispered a few seconds - or hours - later. He led Ray along the river for a moment, up a set of wooden stairs and through the woods halfway up the stairs. Ray found himself in a small clearing. The trees around it were thick and combined with the darkness, the area was completely private.

"Dear God, Ray, I want you." Fraser groaned, taking Ray into his arms and holding him tight.

Ray struggled a little, pulling his mouth away.

"Is this such a good idea?" He whispered. "Here?"

"It's Canada Day. Everybody's downtown, partying." Fraser whispered back, his hands busy unbuttoning Ray's shirt. Ray started to protest again, but changed his mind as Fraser found his left nipple.

"Yeah. Oh, yeah..." Ray murmured as Fraser began to suck.

"I'll take a quick look around myself, if you like." Captain Neilson said quickly, as Constable Tobin picked up his flashlight to do his rounds.

"Very well, sir." Tobin said sourly, handing her the flashlight and his jacket that would identify her as a police officer. She handed back the jacket and simply pinned her badge to the belt of her shorts and left, returning the salute laconically.

She took a quick look around behind the buildings. They were patrolled regularly by squad car, so she made her search perfunctory. She would have preferred not to have Tobin on rounds tonight. He was a real stickler for regulations. Canada Day was a perfect day for catching people. Mostly, the culprits were couples making out in the woods or people vomiting in the bushes after a little too much beer and sunshine. So long as nobody threw up on the statues or, God forbid, an MP's car, she didn't care. Nor did amorous couples particularly bother her; they were no threat to national security. Tobin, on the other hand, delighted in giving warnings or tickets to the culprits who were, in her opinion, only guilty of enjoying themselves a bit too much. She took the stairs down to the riverfront, stopping to give directions to one or two tourists who couldn't find either of the two staircases. Then she doubled back, listening for anyone who might be in trouble. She got halfway up one of the staircases and stopped.

She began to grin. The noises coming from the bushes were unmistakable. Whoever they were, they were certainly having a

very good time. She listened for a moment, wondering if she should give a warning. They weren't making that much noise; if she hadn't been specifically listening for trouble, she would not have heard much.

"Ray... please... please, love..." The words, low and husky, reached her ears and she gasped. That voice. She recognised that voice. Quietly, she moved closer, making as little noise as she could, although she knew that an elephant charging through might not have gotten their attention.

Peering through the branches, she stifled a giggle. Straight laced, reserved Constable Benton Fraser, half naked, his jeans pulled down around his ankles, was writhing on the ground, with his American friend making passionate love to him.

She quietly crept away, trying not to laugh. The image was both funny and arousing. She was glad she was going home soon, to her husband. He was discreet, she could pass on this delightful piece of gossip to him, since she couldn't tell anyone else. Even if she wasn't Fraser superior officer, she wouldn't have said anything. While Fraser's personal life was his own business, it was still against the rules to be making out just below the Supreme Court building. Tobin would have a fit. And he wouldn't even admire the rather gorgeous set of buns on Fraser's lover, either. With a smug smile, she went on her way.

"Eewwwh." Ray looked at the condition of his shirt. There was some sort of sticky brown stuff all over the back of it. He couldn't see it, but it felt disgusting.

Fraser touched it, then licked his fingers.

"Oh, God, Benny, that's disgusting." "No, it's spruce gum." He said, with a smile. "I used to

chew it all the time." "In Runamuckluk?"

"No, Ray. There are no trees in Tuktoyuktuk. In Moosejaw. It's chewing gum. You pick it off the trees and chew it."

"Why?"

"For the same reason your sister chews gum, I suppose."

Ray laughed, picturing Frannie chewing stuff picked off trees.

"It's all over my shirt, Benny. Does it come out?"

"It should, so long as you soak the shirt in hot, soapy water before it dries completely."

"Then let's go back to the hotel, then."

Fraser walked back with Ray, his heart singing. Ray was expecting him to go with him to his room. He hoped. He knew that, despite Ray's articulation of almost every thought that went through his head, it did tend to take a while before he confessed what was in his heart. Maybe Ray really did return his feelings and was just having trouble saying it. It wasn't easy, particularly for a man like Ray to admit tender feelings. His veneer of cynical sarcasm was really quite thick.

Ray walked back, his heart heavy. He felt like he was leading Fraser on, using him for physical gratification. Twice he started to say something. Twice he closed his mouth. Now, Vecchio. Now, before Benny gets in too deep. Now, before he starts touchin' you and you can't think straight.

"Benny." Ray sat down in the armchair, after rinsing out his shirt and putting a new one on. Fraser was sitting on the edge of the bed. "We have to talk."

"Yes, we do." Fraser replied. "Ray. I..."

"Shut up, Benny." Ray said fiercely. "Let me say what I have to say, then it's your turn, okay?"

"All right." Fraser frowned. This was not starting out well.

"When you left Chicago, I really missed you." Ray said abruptly. "I never thought I'd miss having my clothes ruined or having my car smell of wet wolf, but I did. I missed not driving you to work and I missed not having you to yell at. Mostly I missed not working with you. We made a great team. You're a good cop and you made me a better cop."

"Thank you kindly, Ray." Fraser began, but Ray waved him to silence.

"I came here 'cause I missed you. I thought I'd come up here, we'd have a few laughs and I'd go home knowing that you're still my friend. You know, keeping in touch." Ray paused. "I never expected what happened the other night, Fraser."

Fraser instantly noticed the change of name. No, this was not going at all well.

"I never expected you to kiss me." Ray looked directly at Fraser, his eyes unreadable. "And I really didn't expect I'd respond the way I did."

"And...?" Fraser asked very quietly, after a very long silence.

"I don't know why I did and I still don't know why." Ray answered steadily. "I like you as a friend. I've enjoyed the sex."

"Is that all?" Fraser asked, wincing a little at the bluntness.

"I don't know. I'll tell you what I do know. I cherish your friendship. I don't want to lose that." Ray took a deep breath. "I am attracted to you physically and if you still want to stay with me tonight, I'd like that. But as for anything more..."

"Ray." Fraser's voice sounded very strange. "Do you love

me?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? You don't know?" Ray jumped as Fraser sprang to his feet and paced furiously. "I gave you my heart and all you can offer me is your friendship? Use of your body? Then you're going to leave for Chicago in a few days and never look back?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow." Ray said quietly.

"Tomorrow." Fraser stopped in his tracks. "You led me on. Why didn't you say anything when we... when we..."

"Screwed?" Ray supplied. "What do you want me to say, Fraser? That I love you? Declare undying devotion?"

"Yes!"

"I can't do that. I can't lie to you and say things I don't feel. All I can do is tell you the truth. And I have."

"Truth, Ray?" Fraser stopped in front of Ray. "You can't tell me the truth because I doubt you know what it is. What are you afraid of, Ray? Why can't you admit exactly how you feel about the man you've been - what was the word you used? - screwing for the last three days? Why can't you admit that to yourself, even if you can't admit it to anyone else?"

"Are you saying that I really do love you, but I can't admit it?" Ray shouted.

"No." Fraser's voice was calm, with an undercurrent of frustrated fury. "I am saying that you do know exactly how you feel about me, but you can't admit it. Either you do love me and you can't bring yourself to face that you love another man, or you don't love me and you can't bring yourself to tell me the truth for fear you'll lose the friendship you cherish so much."

"Have I lost it?"

"I don't know." Fraser's mouth twisted into a weird smile. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

"Do you want to? Now?"

"Yes."

Ray waited. Fraser approached him and touched his chin. His lips descended and Ray found himself being kissed without passion, but with tenderness and sweetness. A kiss of love.

"If you can't give me your love, Ray, I'll take what I can get." Fraser said softly.

Damn you, Fraser. Ray said silently, as he felt strong arms embrace him, as his own arms went around his lover, his body arching sinuously against Fraser's solid body. I've hurt you to the very core of your being and I will live with this guilt for the rest of my life.

To be continued...