Breathe Your Breath (Paths I Fear to Tread 2)     Breathe Your Breath
(Paths I Fear to Tread 2)

 by Cara Chapel

  

 Author's Website: https://www.squidge.org/~pumpkin/cara/caraindex.html

 Disclaimer: Owned by Alliance. Borrowed by me. I have no money, and I'm
not using this to make any. These aren't the droids you're looking for. I
can go about my business. Move along.

 Author's Notes: Dedicated to Fuzzicat: thanks for the tapes!!! Thanks to
my various beta readers, Gilda Lily, Pumpkin, Anne (she of the merciless
adjective-cutting implements), and Fuzzicat for plot comments, grammar
suggestions, and all sorts of miscellaneous help and support. Thanks to
Smitty for on-the-spot substantiation of interesting facts about leeches.
All remaining inaccuracies, errors, unfollowed suggestions, and other
blunders are purely the fault of the author. 

 Story Notes: This series is based on the premise that after running away
with Victoria, Fraser spent time as a male/male prostitute. 
The story begins a couple of hours after "Follow Without Pride" ended. 

 

 

 Breathe Your Breath
 by Cara Chapel 

 Part 2 of the "Paths I Fear to Tread" Series  

 Dedicated to Fuzzicat: thanks for the tapes!!! Thanks to my various beta
readers, Gilda Lily, Pumpkin, Anne (she of the merciless adjective-cutting
implements), and Fuzzicat for plot comments, grammar suggestions, and all
sorts of miscellaneous help and support. Thanks to Smitty for on-the-spot
substantiation of interesting facts about leeches. All remaining
inaccuracies, errors, unfollowed suggestions, and other blunders are
purely the fault of the author. 

 This story begins a couple of hours after "Follow Without Pride" ended.  

 Ray Vecchio slept fitfully next to Benton Fraser, cramped and
uncomfortable in his awkward sitting position, his upper body a little
chilled by the air conditioning but his leg firmly pressed up against his
friend's solid warmth. He slept deeply, exhausted by the stress of the
past few days' events. 

 Behind his closed lids, he stood in a dingy alley, one that stretched out
of sight in both directions. A soiled handkerchief lay at his feet. He
glanced about, trying to understand how he'd arrived here, then looked
down. A dark-haired man knelt on the handkerchief before him. Ray blinked,
wondering how he got there; the alley had been empty moments ago. Before
he could speak, strong-fingered hands moved at the buckle of his belt, and
his penis surged with an agony of lust, wanting the silky pressure of
those fingertips, anticipating the clasp of a wet mouth. 

 Ray moaned softly and shifted in his sleep, his lips moving to release an
indistinguishable word that might have been a name. 

 Ray's lashes fluttered, a minute reflection of dreaming. In his mind a
warm tongue slid along the length of him, then traced the crown of his
penis, tasting him with care. The mouth opened, cradling his shaft in
welcoming heat as it slid down, down, down... 

 He spasmed almost silently, the jerking motion accompanied by a tiny
upward thrust of hips and a sharp scent of semen, which slowly diffused
into the room. After a few moments he stirred and woke, looked into his
lap with dismay, and cast a glance at the room's other occupants, both
quiet at his side. Only Diefenbaker was awake to notice, blinking sleepily
from where he lay keeping guard over Fraser's rest. 

 Ray had a hazy memory of his dream, and knew he'd been dreaming of a hot
mouth on his dick. Not what he'd have chosen to do after dozing off while
sitting in bed next to Fraser, but a man didn't have a lot of choice in
things like that. 

 He went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off, then wandered back out
into the main room in search of clean underwear. He dragged out a pair of
dark blue briefs and stepped into them. He felt eyes on him in the dim
light as he pulled them over his hips. When he turned, he found Fraser's
face tilted in his direction, his eyes in pools of shadow, the curves of
his mouth highlighted by a dim beam of moonlight streaming through the
crack in the drapes. 

 That mouth. It provoked a moment of embarrassment as he flashed back to
his dream: Benny owned the perfect mouth that had sucked him there. Ray
blinked nervously, then moved easily toward the bed, hiding his discomfort
and guilt. It had to come from seeing Benny on his knees in that alley,
servicing a john. Ray had always had the dumbest dreams; they didn't mean
a damned thing other than making him squirm when he had to visit the
department shrink. 

 They didn't mean a damned thing. 

 "You sleeping OK?" 

 Benny nodded sleepily and rolled onto his back. Ray caught a glimpse of
pale thigh in the shifting covers and felt a shocking urge to follow it
with his gaze. He scruffed his hands vigorously over what was left of his
hair, covering embarrassment again. 

 Fraser moved over wordlessly and left an inviting rectangle of empty bed,
eliciting a sleepy complaint from Diefenbaker. Ray's mind raced
frantically, weighing his options: the harshness of rejection versus the
risk of disregarding Fraser's damaged sexual boundaries versus that damned
embarrassing dream versus his very real and pressing need to lie down and
rest. 

 Finally he decided Fraser wouldn't have made the offer if he didn't mean
it. Turning it down would be like a slap in Benny's face, saying that Ray
didn't accept or trust him anymore. Satisfied with his reasoning, he made
a detour to the closet. Sure enough, extra linens. He pulled a spare
blanket off the upper shelf and approached the bed. 

 Lying down there was one thing. Climbing under the covers next to a naked
Benny was another one, especially with Ray already having screwed-up
dreams. He lay down awkwardly, making sure he didn't take up more than his
share of the mattress, and shook out the blanket before spreading it over
himself. 

 "I don't want daylight to come," Fraser whispered as Ray stilled. 

 Ray hesitated, testing platitudes and finding none that satisfied.
Finally he turned onto his side, reaching to lay an awkward palm on
Fraser's warm, smooth shoulder. "I'll be here when it does, Benny." 

 "Ray..." Benny paused for so long that Ray thought he'd fallen asleep.
"Thank you." 

 Ray smiled in spite of himself, weariness already coaxing him toward
sleep. "Get some rest, Benny." He squeezed Fraser's shoulder gently.  

 The morning waxed toward noon before Ray stirred, sleep gradually lifting
from him, leaving him afloat in perfect comfort. He was warm and snug,
fitted up tightly against another body, and a warm male scent, only
slightly tarnished by stale cigarette smoke, filled his nostrils. He
opened his eyes to the sight of a familiar cheek and dark lashes closed in
peaceful slumber. Benny. Benny was still here, Benny was with him. Benny
was going to come home. 

 Vaguely regretting the loss of comfort, Ray slipped out of the pile of
rumpled bedcovers and hunted in his jacket pocket for his cellular phone.
By now, the first news of Victoria Metcalfe's arrest had arrived on Lt.
Welsh's desk and had time to grow stale. Only turning his phone off last
night had protected their peaceful morning. 

 He took a last look at his sleeping friend. Dief looked at him lazily,
curled inside the curve of Benny's body, wearing a distinctly possessive
expression. Ray decided it was better to risk waking Benny up than to be
gone when he woke on his own, so he closed himself up in the bathroom with
his cell phone. 

 In minutes he was on the defensive. 

 "Yes, sir. Yes, sir. He did, sir. Well, sir, considering that he
participated in this operation in an unofficial capacity, he thought it
best not to notify anyone that he'd gone undercover seeking her arrest.
Yes sir, I'm aware of that. IA? I wasn't aware that IA has any
jurisdiction over Canadian affairs, Lieutenant. No sir. I'm sorry, sir,
but you know it isn't easy to stop Constable Fraser when his mind is made
up... yes, sir. I'll get a full report ready for you within 24 hours after
we get back, Lieutenant. It's four days' drive. Yes, sir, I'm aware that
means I should only be arriving in Las Vegas today." 

 Ray divided his attention between Welsh and his surroundings, listening
for any sign of movement in the outer room. Maybe he should have stayed
between Fraser and the door. Exasperated and impatient, he held the phone
away from his ear, mouthing platitudes. "Certainly, sir. The extradition
should take a few days anyway, sir. Yes. Can you have Elaine carbon copy
everything to the Canadian Consulate? Yes. As soon as we can, sir." He
hung up before Welsh could gather his breath to launch into a second
round. 

 Ray tried to tell himself he wasn't hurrying when he came out of the
bathroom, but the flutter of relief in his stomach when he spotted Benny
proved him a liar. It was immediately followed by a fast-elevator drop in
the same vicinity: Benny was standing by the window, holding the drape
open with one hand and gazing out over the fountains and the lake, still
naked, his pale body shining in the sunlight. A few bruises and love-bites
still marred his throat and torso. 

 "Geez, Fraser, somebody'll see you." Ray kept his voice mild, proud that
he'd suppressed the note of hysteria that wanted to creep in. "We gotta
get dressed and be out of here by check-out time. That's one o'clock, an
hour and a half. We'll get some lunch and take off." 

 Fraser turned to face him, letting the drape fall shut. Darkening the
room did little to eclipse the luminous beauty of Benny's body. He riveted
his gaze on Benny's eyebrows with determination. 

 "I overheard your conversation with Leftenant Welsh, Ray." Benny's voice
was soft. "It's dishonest attempting to convince our superiors that I took
the liberty of going undercover without permission." 

 "Aw, come on, Benny..." Ray protested, blinking. "It's our best shot at
getting things back to normal." Assuming, of course, that Fraser wanted to
return to what had been. The thought made Ray nervous, and he started to
babble. "You did finally come to your senses, and we got her. I really
think we can get them to buy it. And who's it gonna hurt, huh? If you
can't be a Mountie anymore, who else will catch all the criminals you
would have?" He tried on a weak smile. 

 "They won't believe the story, Ray--" 

 "You don't know that, Benny. It's worth a shot. You've always done crazy
stuff to make a bust, so I think they might buy it." Ray rummaged for
fresh clothes. "We'll talk about it again before we get home, huh?" He
glanced up at Fraser without thinking, then jerked his gaze back down
again, flushing a little. "You haven't got anything to wear but the tux,
do you." 

 "No, Ray. I came away... rather unprepared." Benny swallowed, looking at
Ray with regret-filled eyes. 

 "I could run down to the shops and bring you back something." 

 "The shirt and trousers from the tuxedo should suffice." Benny moved to
pick up the smoke-stale clothes. 

 "Yeah? Well, only till we get somewhere the stores don't charge fifty
bucks for a T-shirt." The planes and angles of Benny's sturdy body kept
catching his eyes in spite of everything. The Mountie had always been so
uptight and buttoned-down. Ray had seen him in his shorts and undershirt a
few times, sometimes wearing a pair of red long-johns, and even once
without his shirt on, but never like this. He decided not to feel guilty
because he couldn't stop looking. It was just because he needed to be sure
that Benny was really here, getting ready to return to Chicago with him.
It didn't have anything to do with the flawless curve of that hard-muscled
hip. 

 Turning his back resolutely, Ray chose dark navy socks to match his
briefs, then a tight dark blue tank shirt. He stepped into his tan slacks,
tucking in the undershirt and sliding the belt through the loops. To
complete the ensemble, he pulled a loose silk shirt over the top and left
it unbuttoned. It would keep off the sun. 

 He was aware of Fraser moving about nearby, stepping into a pair of
crumpled white boxers and black tuxedo trousers with a dull satin stripe
down the side. Tucking in his white shirt. Combing his tousled hair with
Ray's small black comb. 

 Relieved that Fraser was covered, Ray turned to grin companionably at
him. Benny hadn't put the studs in the front of his shirt, instead
choosing to overlap the front flaps before tucking it into his pants and
clipping on his suspenders. The unfastened shirt revealed an area of skin
that first appeared a few inches above his navel and widened near his
throat. Fraser was rolling the sleeves of the shirt up to his elbows. The
effect was startling. He looked like an invitation to debauchery, subtly
disheveled and moving with a fluid sensual awareness that Ray had never
seen in him before. 

 Yeah. Well, maybe he'd been more optimistic than realistic assuming that
Benny could come back to Chicago with everything unchanged. For one thing,
Francesca was going to have a foaming fit if she saw him move like that.
Ray grimaced, anticipating future embarrassment on Fraser's behalf. 

 He packed his suitcase while Benny put on his shoes and socks. He put
Fraser's tuxedo jacket in his own hanger bag without asking; even if Benny
didn't want to keep it he could sell it or give it to Goodwill or
something. 

 "Ready to go?" 

 Fraser nodded and Ray gave him a grin. He called down to the front desk
and asked for a valet to fetch the Riv in ten minutes, then they went down
to settle the bill. 

 "Whaddaya mean we gotta pay for the extra robe? We don't get to keep it.
What kind of service is this?" Ray dickered with the clerk from force of
habit, but stopped when he realized how Benny was staying close to his
side. Of course Fraser wouldn't want to attract any attention from former
clients. 

 Time to get the hell out of town. 

 Ray forked over his credit card and signed the slip. "Come on, Benny.
Let's hit the open road." Ray slapped Fraser's shoulder fondly and was
rewarded by a small smile and cooperation. 

 They hit a fast food joint and then took off up I-15. After they got out
of Vegas Ray relaxed and settled his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.
The desert was wide and, like most old cars, the Riv tended to run a
little too hot with the AC on, so they settled for 2 by 55 air
conditioning... or actually, more like 2 by 90. Not much more than that;
Ray wasn't really in a hurry to get home. He settled in to enjoy the
constant friction of the blowing silk against his skin, the heat of the
sun on his left elbow, and the feeling of freedom and detachment that came
with a long straight road and too much speed. 

 Diefenbaker sat awkwardly in Fraser's lap, alternately watching Fraser's
face and poking his nose out the window. Benny spoke quietly to
Diefenbaker, voice inaudible to Ray under the battering of the breeze.
From the way Dief switched between listening soberly and licking Fraser's
face with an expression little short of ecstasy, Ray figured Benny was
making amends for having left the wolf behind. 

 It was good not having to talk because of the wind. Ray didn't know what
he would have said, had conversation been possible. His emotions chased
themselves in circles as he drove, relief followed by apprehension
followed by other, darker feelings and worries. Damn it. If he could have
done something to spare Benny what he'd been through... 

 As the sun sank behind them, Fraser nodded and drifted off to sleep. Ray
drove onward into the night, stopping when they passed a convenient strip
mall somewhere north of Salt Lake City. Ray waited patiently while Benny
bought a pair of jeans and a couple of those long-sleeved cotton shirts he
liked. After Benny changed, they found a restaurant where they could eat
pizza in companionable silence. It wasn't good Chicago deep-dish, but it
was OK. 

 Ray loaded up on caffeine while they ate so he could cram in a few more
hours' driving before they found a motel and hit the sack. After they came
out of the pizza joint he noticed the gas needle was creeping low, so he
topped off the Riv's tank before they got on the main road again. He
rolled up the window when it got chilly and drove faster, climbing further
and further into the Rockies. Fraser nodded off to sleep again, his head
tipped against the side window. 

 Halfway up a mountain, their speed dropped without warning. Ray pushed
the gas pedal harder, but the car continued to roll slower and he swore,
easing them off onto the margin of the road. The gas gauge read dead empty
and he blinked, tapping it crossly with his fingernail. 

 Benny blinked and stirred. 

 "Damn thing says we're out of gas." Ray struck the steering wheel with
frustration. "We must have sprung a leak or something." 

 "We'll be fine, Ray. It's summer, and our body heat will keep the
interior of the car sufficiently warm." Fraser sounded a little muzzy with
sleep. 

 The logic sounded like the Fraser Ray knew, and he relaxed. "Well, yeah,
but we're out here in the middle of nowhere and I've gotta call a tow."
Ray dug his cellular phone out of his pocket and dialed, then put it to
his ear, punching buttons irritably. "Damn it." He climbed out of the car
and moved down the road, checking every few steps. 

 Nothing. "We're out of signal range!" he reported crossly, wandering back
toward the Riv. 

 "This is probably a protected wilderness area," Fraser stopped scratching
around between his feet and sat up straight, his voice maddeningly
reasonable. "The American government doesn't permit cellular phone towers
to be built in nature preserves." 

 "Yeah? Well, they ought to start. I think they'd be great for spotted
owls to build nests on." Ray groused with irritation, climbing back into
the car. 

 "The spotted owls might not agree," Fraser pointed out, looking through
the windshield into the night. The moon gleamed on mountain ice-caps and
bathed the shoulders of the ridges in a hundred shades of velvet gray.
Breathtaking beauty, even in darkness. The moment stretched between them,
heavy with Fraser's melancholy. Ray could feel the tangible weight of it
rendering the silence awkward between them. Dief's tail thumped gently
against Ray's leg as Benny rubbed his ears. It was awkward and crowded
having all three of them in the front of the car, but Ray wasn't
complaining. 

 "Somebody's bound to come along sooner or later. We can flag them down
and send them to call a tow truck." He leaned back, eyes closing, and
thought about trying to get some sleep while they waited for help to come
along. 

 "Ray?" Benny's voice was thoughtful. 

 "Yeah, Benny?" Ray hoped Fraser wanted to change the subject, and he
wasn't disappointed. 

 "How long should the gas you bought have lasted?" 

 "We coulda driven till dawn on that tank, Benny. We must have kicked up a
piece of metal with the tires, and it punctured the gas tank." 

 "What time is it now?" 

 "Getting toward midnight." Ray yawned. "We shouldn't have come
cross-country. On the Interstate, we wouldn't have to wait so long for a
cop or somebody to come by and give us a lift." 

 "And we fueled the car at approximately ten-thirty?" Fraser pondered,
apparently doing math in his head. "This car has quite a large tank. That
means we were losing gas at a fairly rapid rate. I think we would have
heard an impact capable of causing such a large puncture." 

 Ray opened one eye. "Yeah? So we missed it. Stuff happens." 

 Fraser's eyes were on the rear-view mirror, scanning the hillside behind
and below them. The road climbed in switchbacks, wide loops crisscrossing
the ridges and valleys. Ray turned, catching a glimpse of headlights in
the distance. 

 "Don't you think that car is moving rather quickly, Ray?" Benny sounded
calm but taut. 

 "Not as fast as we were. Probably just some bunch of drunk hunters," Ray
ventured. "Maybe they'll stop to help." Fraser was already out the door,
Dief in tow. Ray shrugged and climbed out too. Fraser stood by the
guardrail with his chin tilted back, staring into the sky. Shivering, Ray
went and got his suit coat, and as an afterthought, took out Fraser's
tuxedo jacket. Preoccupied, Benny ignored Ray as he draped it over his
shoulders. 

 "Fraser," Ray tried to break his concentration. "What are you thinking?" 

 "We haven't seen any other cars on this road since we stopped. There
isn't any cover where we could push the Riviera so it won't be seen."
Fraser answered distractedly, checking his watch and the angle of the
stars again. "There aren't any lights visible nearby, which probably means
no other roads and no houses." 

 "Benny," Ray let his tone drift into exasperation. "Last time I checked,
we wanted to get help, not hide from it." 

 "I think we may be in trouble, Ray." Fraser looked at him for a moment,
expression urgent. He stuffed his arms into the sleeves of his jacket.
"Let's get off the road before that car catches us." 

 Ray blinked, but he knew better than to dismiss Benny's instincts. "Who
do you think it is?" 

 "I'm not sure." Fraser vaulted the guardrail and Dief wriggled underneath
it, following him closely. "Perhaps they'll pass the car and we can return
to it. If not, there's a town in the valley about fifteen miles down as
the crow flies." He pointed to indicate the faraway twinkling. 

 "This is rough country. Fifteen miles could turn into twenty or thirty
before we get anywhere. And unless I miss my guess, you don't have your
compass with you." 

 "I'm used to rough country, and I can use the seasonal positions of the
stars for navigation, Ray." Fraser sounded uncertain, eager and yet
somehow almost afraid. What would it mean, Ray thought suddenly, if he
said no and Fraser acquiesced? Fraser would think Ray didn't believe in
him anymore, whether that was true or not. 

 Ray hooked his legs over the guardrail and half-slid down the steep slope
into the cover of a fir forest. "Shit!" He thumped his thigh with his
fist. "I forgot my phone." 

 "That's highly unfortunate, Ray." Fraser looked at him reproachfully. "I
can already hear the car motor." His hand closed around Ray's arm, pulling
him back from the edge of the woods. Leaving him concealed, Fraser crept
forward, using the dense lower branches of the outer trees for cover as he
looked up the hill. 

 The glow of approaching headlights waxed along with the sound of the
engine, and Ray was dismayed to realize the car was slowing. 

 Dief growled low in his throat and Ray shushed him, stroking behind his
ears. A door slammed and a body eclipsed the headlights of the stopped
vehicle briefly; then Ray could hear the Riv's door open. He realized
Fraser was sliding backward silently-- not a good sign. 

 Fraser rose to his feet at Ray's side, his fingertips settling over Ray's
mouth to forestall questions. "Martin," he breathed in Ray's ear. The
sensation of Fraser's warm breath on Ray's cold face sent an involuntary
shiver down his spine. 

 No matter how you sliced it, that couldn't be good. Ray winced and
nodded, Fraser's warm hand moving with his face. 

 Footsteps scratching in the gravel roadside warned them, and Fraser
tugged at Ray urgently. They set off down the hill, both following the
ghostly shadow of Diefenbaker. Not much question of fleeing quietly; Ray
wished for a second that he'd eaten more carrots when he was a kid. His
night vision sucked, and the snapping and clattering of sticks under his
clumsy feet sounded like small bombs going off... until the gunshots that
started cracking behind gave him some unwanted perspective. 

 They tripled their speed, scrambling downhill at a frantic pace. Ray
followed Fraser and the wolf blindly, cringing at the ugly echo of each
new shot as he waited for a bullet to slam into his back. 

 The shots spaced out and stopped, and after a few minutes Ray realized
they'd put a low ridge between themselves and Edwards as they ran. An
obdurate stone cliff began to rise out of the mountainside to their left,
dripping with water that glowed and sparkled eerily, capturing and
focusing the diffused light. They paused and Fraser listened keenly. 

 "I believe Martin punctured the gas tank while we were at supper, Ray. I
remember smelling gasoline when we emerged from the restaurant, but given
that we were surrounded by vehicles, I thought little of it." He sounded
apologetic. "He wanted to confront us at a time and place when there would
be no chance of interference." 

 Ray shook his head, struggling to catch his breath. "You think he wants
your winnings, right?" 

 "Without a doubt. He seems to have taken advantage of the loan
collectors' attention to Victoria and her arrest to make his own escape
from the Bellagio. What I won would not pay off all his debts, but it
would buy him the time he needs to try again." Benny wasn't even winded,
damn him, though there was a faint shadow of distress in his voice.
"Martin is quite proficient at eluding capture, Ray. He was never
imprisoned for his part in planning the bank robbery that resulted in
Victoria and Jolly's incarceration." 

 Somehow it didn't surprise Ray that Edwards had been involved all along.
He and Victoria had looked awfully tight that first morning in the
Bellagio. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself-- he'd started
sweating during the run, but he was getting cold now that they'd stopped.
Even a summer night was chilly at this altitude. 

 "We'd better keep moving. Martin won't give up easily." Fraser gazed into
the night for a moment, then set out in a mostly downward direction. Ray
kept pace with him, wishing they both had sneakers or hiking boots to wear
instead of stiff leather shoes. 

 Ray couldn't help but wonder what Fraser might be doing differently if he
wasn't along for the ride. Parleying with Edwards? Giving up the money
without a whimper? The point was moot. Without Ray's interference, he'd
never have won it in the first place. 

 Their climb down into the valley covered a lot of steep ground, slippery
with pine needles and loose rock and drowned in deep shadow more often
than not. More than once Ray nearly fell, only to be steadied by Fraser's
rock-certain sense of balance. 

 The harsh stone outcrops they occasionally had to descend abraded Ray's
fingers and palms, but he didn't complain, enjoying the sight of Fraser
back in his element. In spite of his melancholy, Fraser moved efficiently
through the forest. As near as Ray could tell, he was judging their
location by the fading stars. Then as the dawn light grew, he seemed to
switch to studying the location of peaks that he'd apparently memorized
before they set out. 

 There was no further sign of Edwards, so Ray relaxed a little and did
some more covert Fraser-watching. Dirty, mussed, and with fir needles
clinging in his hair, Benny looked competent, almost himself again.
Searching out the lay of the land, he found good places to climb down the
steep spots, always staying oriented. He seemed to be mapping out some
silent territory of confidence deep inside himself with an instinct as
sure as a compass needle. Ray hoped Fraser was getting back in touch with
the man Ray knew he still was. 

 Maybe it was a good idea to encourage the process. "What are we gonna eat
today, Benny?" Ray prodded him gruffly. "We can't keep going on empty
stomachs. You gonna catch us a trout with your bare hands and start a fire
with two rocks?" 

 "Yes, Ray." Benny looked back at him, perfectly earnest, and Ray just
grinned. 

 "How far you figure we still have to go before we get into town?" 

 "I've taken us considerably off-course, Ray." Benny hesitated. 

 "Do you still know where we are?" 

 "It's very likely that if we follow the stream at the bottom of this
valley, it will lead down into a larger river that will eventually emerge
into the town we spotted last night from the ridge. Most settlements are
positioned adjacent to large sources of water. The practice aids in
transportation of goods and provides other advantages, such as--" 

 Ray interrupted impatiently. "But we've been heading uphill for the last
two hours. Water doesn't run uphill, Benny." 

 "Actually, under certain sets of circumstances, water has been known
to--" 

 Ray rolled his eyes. "You think Martin's trying to track us through the
wilderness." 

 "I think it's likely." Fraser looked away, studying a broken tree branch
entirely too earnestly. 

 "Benny..." Ray fixed him with a threatening stare, already knowing the
answer. "Are we headed deeper into the mountains?" 

 "Well, Ray..." Fraser hesitated. "Actually, we are. Yes." 

 Ray just shook his head and kept walking. 

 "Martin is quite desperate, and he's capable of great ruthlessness when
properly motivated. It's possible that he may have telephoned for
assistance and arranged for us to be met before we could ever make it into
town." 

 "Assistance." Ray shook his head. "So where are we going?" 

 "High ground." Fraser pointed toward the snowcaps, and Ray groaned. 

 "I think I'm going to get my next cell phone surgically attached to my
hip." 

 "Leaving it in the car was a grave tactical error." 

 "Why are we heading for the snow, Fraser?" 

 "That's quite simple, Ray." Fraser's eyes glowed, seeming almost feral
for a moment. "I know how to survive there. Martin doesn't." 

 Ray felt a chill raise the fine hairs on the back of his neck. "Neither
do I, Benny." 

 "I won't let you come to harm, Ray." Matter-of factly, Fraser cast his
cool blue eyes up toward the tall peaks. 

 Fair enough. Ray supposed that someone who'd survived storms in the
uppermost reaches of the Yukon territory with only his coat would make
easy work out of Rocky Mountain snowcaps in the summertime. "So you're
that sure he's still following us?" 

 Diefenbaker whined, trotting past them with an impatient look, and Benny
glanced back the way they had come. "I am sure of it, Ray." 

 "Then let's get going." 

 The sun rose past noon and fell again as they made their way up the
narrow river gorge, climbing in and out of folds in the land. By the time
it started to sink beyond the valley at their backs, Ray could tell it
would take a lot more daylight than they had left to make the trip up into
the snow. 

 Fraser finally paused next to a crevice in the mountain stone, scanning
the terrain carefully, and Ray took advantage of the delay to flop onto a
water-rounded rock for a moment, watching Dief pick his way across the
river in their wake. "How about that trout?" 

 "Now would be a good time to make camp," Benny agreed. "We won't be able
to reach the snow line before nightfall, and Martin will seek shelter as
darkness falls as well, knowing that he would miss our trail by
moonlight." 

 Ray nodded. "You're leaving a trail for him to follow, aren't you." He'd
been watching for signs to confirm his guess ever since Fraser admitted to
leading them away from civilization. He'd seen Fraser leave more than a
few unnecessary broken branches and shifted rocks in their wake. 

 Fraser looked at him inscrutably. "Yes." 

 Ray nodded, accepting it. What was one more thing when they were already
headed for America's best imitation of the Arctic Circle? "I guess we're
far enough ahead." 

 "We are." Fraser moved over to the river, peering into it with an
appraising look. "If we begin walking early tomorrow, we should reach the
snow line by midday." He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, still eyeing
the stream bed. Ray watched as he lay down on his belly, dipping his arms
into the frigid water at the edge of the stone. Ray noticed goose-flesh
rising on his friend's skin, but Benny ignored it, staring into the water
and moving his hands carefully against the current for a moment that
stretched, then stretched again. 

 "Got one." Fraser suddenly lifted a thrashing silver fish out of the
clear torrent between his palms. 

 "You're unbelievable." Ray gingerly accepted the fish, hooking his finger
through the gill plate the way Fraser demonstrated, careful to avoid its
sharp edge. 

 "On the contrary, Ray. I believe there is more than ample evidence of my
feet of clay." Fraser's attempt at lightness was spoiled by the sobriety
of his eyes. 

 "We all make mistakes, Benny. You're still the same guy I know and love."
Ray bellied down on the rock next to Fraser. "Otherwise you wouldn't be
here, getting ready to teach me how to fish." 

 Benny hesitated, looking at Ray uncertainly, then acquiesced. "Well, Ray,
trout almost always swim with their heads pointed upstream, into the
current. Fish like to rest in deep pockets where the water is slow-moving.
If you can identify a likely location for one to lie concealed and then
watch until you see it move, it's relatively simple to ease your hands
slowly up through the water behind it and then clasp them around its ribs.
Take care to keep your fingers away from the gill plates." He
demonstrated, sweeping his hands through the water. 

 "Sounds easy enough." Ray scrambled up and moved to a rock of his own,
peering down into the stream. After a few minutes he thought he saw
something move, and started to reach into the water. "Fraser?" 

 "Yes, Ray?" 

 "Are there leeches in this water?" 

 "Unlikely, Ray. Leeches typically prefer warmer waters or swampy
low-lying locations with plenty of sediment and organic matter." 

 "Good." Ray slipped his hands into liquid ice, so cold it made his bones
ache like rusty needles were jabbing into them. "Jesus, it's cold." Sure
enough, a pale streamer of silver undulated gently in the clear water. He
started moving his hands forward cautiously, wondering if there would be
enough sensation left to feel the trout when he grabbed it. 

 "Of course, there are probably salamanders and crayfish." 

 "Crayfish?" Ray questioned absently, concentrating on the slow-moving
body of the fish he was targeting. 

 "Small lobster-like crustaceans with strong pincers." 

 "What??!" Ray deliberately exaggerated his yelp, hamming it up a little. 

 "Ray." Fraser chided him patiently, with a note of tolerant amusement.
"You're scaring the fish." 

 "They're scaring me!" Ray made a grab for the fish, still stalking the
slender trout. "Damn, I missed him." It was harder than it looked to
estimate the depth where the trout hovered. He moved to another spot and
started looking again. 

 Benny snagged another trout, then came to watch as Ray made his second
attempt. "Not quite so deep. That's it. Slower... slower... don't move in
yet. When you do, move fast. Almost... now!" 

 The fish flopped violently between Ray's palms and he struggled to get to
his knees without losing it, but it was slimy and stronger than he'd
expected, and something sharp scored his thumb. As he tried to lift it out
of the water, it slipped free and splashed back into the stream, darting
away under the rock. 

 "I had it, I had it!" Ray was surprised by his own delight in spite of
losing the fish. 

 Fraser took his hand and examined the small cut on his thumb. "Trout have
sharp bones in their gill plates," he explained. "The protective slime
coating they exude is an irritant, and your thumb may be painful for a day
or two." 

 "I'll live," Ray grinned. His hand was really too numb from the cold to
hurt much. "I'll get the next one." 

 He didn't, nor the one after that, but as the sun began to sink low and
shadows stretched across the water, making it hard to see the fish, he
finally managed to land a fat trout. In short order it was dangling from a
stick with the two Benny had caught. 

 "I feel like the great white hunter or something," Ray confided
comfortably. "I never did anything like that before." 

 "You did well," Fraser complimented. "It is a difficult skill to acquire
rapidly." 

 "I had a good teacher." Fraser's pleased look shouldn't have been so shy,
but at least it was there. "Now teach me how to build a fire, will ya?
It's getting chilly out here, and my stomach thinks my throat's been cut."


 "Of course, Ray." 

 Ray listened while Fraser lectured quietly on the art of fire building,
stacking tinder and branches carefully inside a crevice of the cliff that
he said should serve as a natural chimney. It didn't seem fair that the
man could make a fire using only two rocks and some dead brush, but Ray
was glad he could. Within minutes the fire caught in earnest, and Ray was
happy to search through the nearby woods for enough deadfall wood to last
the night-- quite a respectable amount, since the fire would be their only
source of heat. 

 While he got good and dirty hauling wood, Fraser applied himself to
building shelter. Ray caught glimpses of him constructing a lean-to at an
angle to their fireplace, and realized that the whole setup had been
chosen for its location, which would keep the fire concealed unless you
stood right on top of it. Ray smiled. Trust Benny for that. Fraser worked
methodically, covering the lean-to frame with pine boughs and lining the
inside thickly with leaves and pine needles. It looked rustic and
inviting. Ray knew better, and he spared a rueful wish for a nice
Posturepedic. 

 When he returned with his last armload of dry wood, Fraser had all three
trout gutted and spitted on peeled green sticks, ready to be roasted over
the blaze. He showed Ray the best approximate distance and angle to hold
his fish, and they settled into companionable silence as they rotated
their dinner over the embers, watching for signs that it was done. 

 It was oddly comfortable and satisfying to sit and rest after the long
hike, looking forward to a hot meal. "I always wanted to do stuff like
this," Ray confided to Fraser. "My old man wasn't much for the father/son
stuff, though. One time I got my ma's best sheets and set up a tent in the
back yard for us to sleep out in. I wanted him to teach me how to build a
fire and all that." He fell silent for a second, brooding. "He was down at
the bar and didn't care enough to come home. So I didn't get to go
camping." The confession hurt, dredging up old pain and resentment. 

 Fraser regarded him with an inscrutable expression. "The first time I
ever built a fire, my father took me out into the woods, gave me two
stones, and walked away." He added another stick to the coals soberly. "I
don't really remember how I managed, or what that first fire was like, but
I never forgot what it felt like to be out there, alone, in the dark. And
I never lost the skill." He gestured toward their fire-ring to
demonstrate. "Maybe that's what he intended." 

 Ray shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder what people are thinking when
they go to have kids." He turned his stick, watching juice drip and sizzle
in the coals. "I guess most of them don't bother." He sighed and shifted
to avoid a stone that was digging into his hip. "Still, it's not like I
never got to go camping at all. I mean, I'm here now with you, enjoying
the great outdoors." He smiled at Benny. 

 Fraser looked startled, then pleased, then he lifted his stick to cover
his awkwardness, poking at the two hot fish skewered on the forked tips,
then extending them over the flames again. "Under rather less than ideal
circumstances, Ray." 

 "So? That's what camping's all about, isn't it?" Ray waited for it,
expectant, and sure enough, this time Benny's lips quirked upward
ever-so-slightly. "Ah, I got ya. You know I'm right." Ray smirked,
triumphant. 

 The sky was fully dark before Fraser decreed the fish were ready to eat,
and Ray was so hungry he almost didn't mind the lack of salt or the
necessity of eating with his fingers. He peeled the skin away and flaked
off the tender meat inside a little at a time. They each ate one fish and
gave the third to Diefenbaker, Fraser fussing about getting all the tiny
bones out first. The wolf was impatient to have his share and didn't seem
pleased that he'd had to wait for it to cook. 

 "If you didn't want to wait you could have hunted for mice or rabbits,"
Fraser reminded him archly. "Ray and I each caught our own." Dief
grumbled, still licking the flat river rock that had served as his dish. 

 Fraser returned to the fire, tossing the fish skeletons into the coals.
He tucked his knees up to his chin, wrapping his arms around them and
gazing into the fire. Silence settled over their small campsite, broken
only by the noises of night insects and the faraway hooting of a great
horned owl. 

 "I'm hollow inside without her," Fraser commented without preamble, a
slight thickness in his voice betraying his nonchalant tone. "Like I'm not
really here. My body is just going through the motions." 

 "It's gonna be hard for a while." Ray nodded sympathetic agreement. "It
was like that for me too after I got my divorce. I had to live from day to
day, and sometimes I didn't know how I could go on. I just kept... looking
around and expecting her to be there. Needing her to be there." He stared
into the fire himself for a while, peripherally aware of Benny's slow nod.
"You've got to make yourself something to live for. I threw myself into my
work. It was all I had left, and it showed me I was still worth
something." 

 Fraser nodded thoughtfully. "I am at a loss for other methods to try," he
spoke softly, "and your endorsement of this one means a great deal to me,
Ray. But the fact remains that I'm absent without leave from my duties. I
don't believe my superiors will be lenient." 

 "Benny, if you want your job back, I'll do whatever it takes to make 'em
give it to you, even if I have to walk barefoot all the way to the Yukon."


 Benny was shaking his head, sad fondness in his eyes. "I don't even know
that I deserve... a second chance." The light went out of his eyes, and he
withdrew inside himself even as Ray watched. 

 "Hey." Ray reached and shook his arm. "Stop that. What'd I say about you
being too hard on yourself? Everybody deserves a second chance. As far as
I'm concerned you've got unlimited do-overs, Benny." 

 Fraser lifted his head slowly, something primal fluttering deep in his
eyes: caution, unbearable pain, dawning hope, an ineffable wildness. Ray
fell still, feeling a little bit like a deer frozen in headlights. He held
Benny's eyes soberly. 

 "Thank you, Ray." Fraser's voice was husky with emotion. 

 "You're welcome." The words felt inadequate, but Ray meant them. It was a
long time before the gaze broke. 

 They sat in silence for long moments, watching the thin curl of smoke
waft up from their small fire, soot settling to darken the stones of the
crevice. Finally Ray sighed, stretching stiffness out of his shoulders.
"We're both dead on our feet. Too little rest, too little food, and too
much walking. Come on. Let's get some sleep." He scooted over to lie under
the lean-to, pillowing his head on his arm. 

 Benny fed the fire, looking sober, then carefully eased in behind Ray,
rustling the leaves and boughs he'd gathered for bedding. Ray sighed and
tried to relax, torn between relief and regret when Benny didn't scoot
close to share their body heat. At least half regret. OK, mostly regret. 

 Fine. Ray set his jaw with annoyance. He was man enough to admit there
was something funny going on inside his head. The pine needles and the
rocks under them were lumpy and uncomfortable under his ribs and hip and
it wasn't like he was headed for dreamland anytime soon. No better time
than the present to kick back and examine whatever was going down. Get it
all out in the open and analyze all the clues like he did every day on the
job. 

 Ray squeezed his eyes shut, replaying the past few days right down to
their last words. A couple of sincere words about second-chances and
do-overs, then Benny got weird on him, getting that spooked wild animal
look in his eyes like he didn't know whether to attack or run. Who else
had he seen that look directed at? The closest he could come was Victoria,
but that didn't make any sense. Why would Benny look at Ray the way he
looked at her, desperate and lost and scared and hopeful, his eyes burning
so that it looked like his soul was already in Hell? 

 Ray was enough of a detective to know there was a nasty can of worms
waiting if he pushed that train of thought far enough. Anyway, it wasn't
worth his time to build a complicated house of cards based on assumptions
and guesswork. 

 His own reactions ought to be easier to work through. Every step that had
brought them here had seemed inevitable at the time. A man had to do
whatever it took to help his best friend, and Benny... Benton Fraser was
closer to Ray than his own brother had ever been. He was a companion and
an inspiration, someone who'd showed Ray what a good cop he could be.
Someone who'd accepted him unconditionally and then coaxed him to surpass
himself, pushing him gently but inexorably without ever condemning him. 

 Ray owed Fraser rescue, owed him loyalty and support. Ray cherished him,
loved his strength and his integrity and his fragility and his stubborn
idealism. He wanted Benny to be happy and strong. Needed him to be, maybe.


 None of that explained the wet dream he'd had in Vegas. 

 Benny was shivering behind him, rustling the dry leaves. He couldn't be
getting any warmth from the fire since Ray's body was between it and him,
and the lean-to wasn't holding in a heck of a lot of heat, given how it
was open on one side and just woven out of pine branches to begin with. 

 Ray wanted to turn to Benny, to move closer and share precious warmth.
That was new. When they were trapped in that stupid freezer with all the
dead horses, Ray'd been ready to freeze to death before he'd agree to
share Benny's body heat. He'd decided to be wrapped in frozen horse meat
instead. Right now it seemed like a pretty fucking stupid choice to have
made, and that was weighed against a lifetime that had featured some
incredibly dumb decisions. 

 "Benny?" Ray reached and fed the fire, renewing the blaze. 

 "Yes, Ray?" 

 "You're the one who told me you know how to survive in the mountains.
Freezing to death isn't gonna solve anything. You're Mr. Practical
Wilderness Survival. You tell me what the first step toward hypothermia
is." He didn't pause for the answer, continuing gruffly. "Shivering,
right. And you know what to do about it." 

 He rolled over awkwardly and gathered Benny into a rough embrace,
pressing Fraser's sturdy body against the fire-warmed cloth of his shirt
and jeans. Ray could feel Benny's heart beating hard, but he remained
silent. The slight mist of their rising breath mingled visibly in the
muted glow of the fire. Fraser lay stiffly against him, body too tense for
comfort. 

 Ray felt flayed open and vulnerable with Fraser in his arms, as though he
was caught out in a public place in just his underwear. He wasn't
comfortable with showing tenderness, wasn't used to all this closeness and
sharing and stuff. He felt like he'd been on a roller coaster for days
now, raw emotion ratcheting up higher and higher in between
stomach-churning drops into fear. 

 Just as Ray decided he couldn't stand it any longer and opened his mouth
to offer to let go, Fraser sighed, a low exhalation that felt as though it
might never end. He brought his arm around Ray's waist and settled against
him, the nerve-wracking tension slowly ebbing from his body. His surrender
left Ray holding a limber armful of tired, sleepy Benny. Ray felt his
heart thump uncomfortably at the soft expression on Benny's face, at the
curve of his closed lids and lashes, at the trust his relaxation implied. 

 Worrying about that dream was just going to have to wait. Benny needed
him to be strong now, and he'd be damned if he'd come this far just to cop
out. Shifting to pull Benny tighter against him, Ray closed his eyes and
eventually drifted off to sleep. 

 Waking was a lot less pleasant. Though they'd awakened to feed the fire
several times in the night, it had ultimately burned out and Ray was
freezing. He and Fraser pressed together tightly, both their bodies racked
with shivers. Ray had a stick gouging his ribs and a stone poking his
kidney and his bladder was about to burst. He pulled away from Fraser,
flinching at the loss of warmth, and went to attend pressing business in
the unthreatening company of a tall tree. 

 Hot coffee would have been a godsend, but there was none. There was no
breakfast to be had either, though Fraser made half-hearted noises about
hunting for grubs. Ray tightened his belt and told himself that they were
roughing it. By this time tomorrow maybe he'd be sitting in front of a
stack of pancakes as tall as Diefenbaker and a huge pot of black coffee. 

 He felt absurdly reluctant to leave their tiny campsite, but Benny was
eager to be away, glancing around as though he expected Edwards to appear
in the forest any minute. Diefenbaker also seemed to sense urgency in the
air, whining and prancing around them stiff-legged, making little forays
away into the woods and coming back to urge them to follow with a low
growling whine. 

 They scattered the scorched stones and unused firewood, then drowned and
buried the last embers of their fire and took down the lean-to, leaving
the woods looking as untouched as possible. Partly warmed by the activity,
Ray watched Benny work, relieved by the way he moved-- he seemed happier,
more energetic. Some of the stress-filled lines in his face had eased, and
he looked like he'd slept enough, if not well. 

 Ray felt thick emotion gather in his throat, and swallowed around it.
"That everything? Great." 

 They climbed steadily, rewarded for their efforts around midmorning as
they stumbled upon a cluster of blackberry brambles that bore
partly-ripened fruit. Ignoring the sour wild-berry taste, Ray ate
ravenously, too hungry to care about staining himself purple. By contrast,
Fraser picked and ate neatly, the purple juice barely staining his
fingertips, lips, and tongue. Even Diefenbaker joined in, extending his
muzzle daintily and nipping fruit off the lowest canes. 

 Ray marveled at the smooth wood of the thicket. "I thought blackberries
had thorns." He ran a fingertip down the length of a thick cane. 

 "Not when they grow more than 5000 feet above sea level. Wild blackberry
canes are frequently bare of thorns in high northern latitudes as well. At
least, they are in environments where they naturally occur." Fraser eyed
the bare rock face behind the jungle of tangled plants. "It's early in the
season for ripe fruit, Ray. I believe this cliff traps and reflects heat
that encourages the fruit to mature." 

 "Whatever. It's just good we found it." Ray forced his way further into
the tangle for another helping of breakfast. He came out with a handful of
fat berries and chose one for Fraser, extending it between his left thumb
and forefinger. "Eat up. We don't want to leave any for Edwards to find." 

 Fraser nodded, then amazingly dipped his head to take the juice-dripping
berry with his mouth instead of his fingers. The gesture was both
fastidious and maddeningly seductive, moist heat brushing Ray's
fingertips. Ray's cock twitched with distinct interest and he nearly
dropped his handful of fruit as he shied from the unexpected sensation.
Benny watched him silently, chewing, a flicker of that disconcerting,
untamed expression visible behind his level gaze. 

 Benny had taken Victoria's fingers into his mouth to save them from the
cold. Ray squelched that knowledge fiercely. This was nothing like that. 

 "Jeez, Benny. Warn a guy when you're gonna do that." In spite of
everything, Ray felt his heart quicken as he held out another berry the
same way, reaching straight toward Fraser's mouth this time. Benny took it
again, no big deal-- Ray was ready this time. Benny's mouth didn't linger.
He touched Ray's purple-stained fingertips with his tongue as his lips
closed around Ray's fingers and he pulled back, taking the drips of juice
gathering there. Just a man eating a berry with his mouth because he
didn't want to touch it with his own fingers and get them all purple. 

 Yeah, that was all. Ray ate a berry himself, trying to look casual about
putting his fingers in his own mouth when they still tingled from the
touch of Benny's lips. He sent a threatening mental note to his cock,
promising it a handful of snow later if it didn't stop acting crazy right
now. 

 Fraser waded into the thicket to pluck a last few ripe fruits, sparing
Ray the knotty problem of deciding whether to continue finger-feeding him,
so he shared the last ones with Diefenbaker instead, relieved that it was
all out of his hands. 

 Fraser's head came up thoughtfully, tilted in an attitude of listening.
"We should move on now, Ray. I believe Martin is close on our heels. We
lost time by stopping early last night." He scrambled out of the tangle,
swallowing a last few berries hurriedly-- his hands were stained with
purple juice now in spite of all his caution. 

 Ray matched Benny's quickened pace, and by mid-afternoon they reached the
tree line, staring across the narrow fir-sprinkled tundra belt that lay
between the forest and the snowcap. "There will be considerable danger
from this point onward, Ray." Benny frowned. "Perhaps you would prefer to
hike to one side and await my return. Diefenbaker and I can continue
onward and track you later...." 

 "He'll see there's just one set of footprints in the snow, Benny." Ray
shook his head. "You think you're gonna abandon me in the middle of this
godforsaken wilderness? I'm coming." 

 "I haven't had the opportunity to make snowshoes, Ray, and there will be
relatively little cover." 

 "It's about time you told me more about what you're planning, Benny. You
hoping he'll freeze to death before we do? We've got a better chance if
we're together." 

 Fraser's eyes warmed, the corners of his mouth curving upward in a small
smile. "It's quite simple, Ray. We are going to avoid the hazards of the
mountain until Martin falls prey to one. Freezing is only one
possibility." 

 "I figured it was something like that." Ray shook his head. "Anybody ever
tell you you're a glutton for punishment?" 

 "I have a friend who has mentioned that possibility more than once."
Deadpan, Fraser started trekking up through the low vegetation. "At times,
I wonder what it says about him that he insists on accompanying me." 

 Ray laughed with unexpected pleasure. "He's probably a stubborn Italian
jerk with more heart than smarts." 

 "Plenty of both, I'd say." Fraser looked straight ahead toward the
horizon, pulling slightly ahead. Ray let him, glad of the chance to hide
both his embarrassment and his pleasure in the compliment. 

 The tundra wasn't too bad for hiking, though Ray felt like a sitting duck
as they advanced beyond the last scattered trees into the windswept tundra
meadow. The sun beat down brightly on the top of his balding head, and he
basked in its warmth while he had the chance. He could feel slight bite of
the breeze, especially on the shadowed side of his body, promising worse
to come when they reached the snow. 

 Ray rubbed the bridge of his nose. They were gonna freeze their asses off
up there. Another night of sleeping close to Fraser. The third in a row.
Everything felt out of control; his world had skewed and gone crazy.
Seeing Fraser on his knees in that alley had totally fucked up his head.
He just couldn't keep the memory bottled up the way it ought to be. 

 Ray's eyes wandered idly from Fraser's shoulders down to his beautifully
turned thighs-- fine strong legs with powerful muscles and narrow ankles
like a racehorse-- and his firm denim-clad ass. 

 Ray's feet tangled around one another, and he nearly fell, lurching to
one side. He was checking Benny out. Holy fucking shit! 

 Just as he stumbled, a bullet zinged past his shoulder with a fierce
whine like a pissed-off wasp. Ray shied violently. "Holy fucking shit,
Fraser!" 

 "My sentiments exactly, Ray." They fell into a crouching run, pelting
uphill hard while dodging as well as they could. Ray returned fire over
his shoulder even though running spoiled his aim, hoping to drive Edwards
under cover. The earth turned wet, then icy, and Benny slipped and almost
fell. Ray steadied him and they plowed on into deepening snow, following a
slight fold in the land until they reached a low line of boulders that
would do for cover. Dief flopped onto his belly when they stopped, looking
unconcerned. 

 "Great, now we've got cover, but we're pinned down." Ray checked his
ankle holster. "I got one more clip with me, Benny, and that's it." 

 "We'll hold him off till nightfall. Then we can move." 

 Edwards seemed to have concerns about his ammunition levels as well;
shots ceased to come from below. Ray poked his head up cautiously and saw
no sign of movement, so he slumped back down. 

 "Perhaps Martin would like to parley," Benny mused. 

 "Yeah, right." 

 "Fraser!" A hollow shout echoed and re-echoed across the blazing white
snowfield. 

 Ray rolled his eyes toward heaven. "Do you always have to be right?" 

 "Hst." Fraser gestured for silence. "Martin?" he replied coolly. 

 "Give me back the money or you and Vecchio aren't making it off this
mountain alive!" 

 "Oh yeah, that's original." Ray rolled his eyes. 

 "He definitely has a way with words," Fraser admitted. Ray checked
Edwards' position again, satisfied to find him lying belly-down in a
mostly-dry stream bed just below the snowcap. 

 "He's gonna get soaked lying there," Ray observed, leaning against a
boulder so that the snow wouldn't dampen his own jeans. 

 "It seems likely," Fraser concurred, similarly positioned. 

 "Are you listening to me? Fraser? Vecchio? You can't hold me off forever.
You better do this the easy way while you still can. Just give me the
winnings and I'll let you go." 

 Ray raised a brow at Benny, who just shook his head. Ray tipped his head
back. "Pull the other one!" 

 "Eloquent," Benny commented. 

 "Thanks." Ray checked his clip and then popped up to eyeball Edwards
again, but the man stayed put. 

 Ray had to burn a couple of bullets over the next few hours to keep
Edwards pinned down while the sun sank. He and Benny took turns watching,
not talking much. Ray's thighs ached from squatting, but by unspoken
agreement neither man let his clothing come in contact with the snow. No
point getting wet when there was no way to get dry again. He kept his
mouth shut about his fears that Edwards might call for backup. 

 Benny moved around him awkwardly when the sun set, placing his own body
between Ray and the icy wind sweeping down across the snow fields. Ray
pressed close to him without comment, too cold to worry about macho
appearances. "The moon won't rise for another hour. As soon as it's fully
dark, we'll move even if he stays," Fraser murmured in his ear. "The
afternoon sun thawed the top layer of snow, and it's re-freezing now. We
won't leave tracks for him to follow." 

 Ray nodded, tucking his hands into his armpits, trying to keep an eye
peeled for Edwards. "He's moving," Fraser breathed after several minutes.
"Back down toward the tree-cover." 

 Ray fumbled for his gun, but Benny's hand stopped him. "It's too dark to
aim. Let him go. He'll have trouble surviving the night in those wet
clothes." Calm satisfaction filled his voice. 

 "What about us?" 

 "We aren't wet." Now that Edwards was gone, Fraser tugged at Ray, and
they set out across the glass-smooth surface of the snow, both men
slipping and sliding. Even Dief had trouble navigating. 

 Fraser seemed to know where he was headed, so Ray followed as well as he
could, feeling the bitter bite of the air grow fiercer. Some time after
moonrise, Benny angled away toward a ridge, and the snow under their feet
grew soft and wet as they entered an area that had been shaded during the
day. 

 "This should do," Fraser's teeth were chattering. He sank to his knees
and started to shovel at the heavy snow with both hands. 

 "What?" Ray asked wearily. 

 "I'm digging a snow cave. We need shelter." 

 "You're gonna freeze your hands, Benny." Ray started helping Fraser move
the snow, his own hands stinging painfully. 

 "It only needs to be big enough for the three of us." Fraser kept digging
stubbornly, and Ray helped him move extra snow for a while, fretting. 

 The next time Benny emerged to get rid of a load of snow, the rising moon
showed how clumsy his hands were. "All right, that's enough." Ray tugged
his belt loop, pulling him out of the hole where he lay half-buried. "Get
over here." He opened his coat and shirt impatiently, then tucked Benny's
hands inside, snuggling them under his armpits, trying not to flinch back
from the icy touch. Benny stepped close, his body shielding Ray's exposed
chest. Ray fumbled Benny's black jacket around his shoulders and then slid
his own arms inside it, around Benny's warm back. They stood leaning
against one another without need for speech, closeness their only barrier
against the cold. 

 Fraser's hands warmed gradually as Ray listened to the wind whipping
around them, making Fraser's dark hair blow against his cheek. It was
longer than Benny used to wear it, silky and fine. It smelled of hotel
shampoo and wood smoke. Ray turned his face to feel its tickle against his
nose and his lips, leaning his forehead against Fraser's temple. Benny
pulled back enough to look at him, eyes dark in the dim moonlight. Their
gazes locked, the moment stretching, and Ray felt his heart kick into
double-time at the intent expression on Benny's face. 

 Then Fraser's eyes slid shut and they swayed, balance shifting
ever-so-slightly. Ray felt icy air burn his lungs as he inhaled, hardly
daring to move. Benny was moving forward, breath warm on Ray's face... so
terribly tentative. Ray let his own eyelids sink shut, closing out the
stark shadows and ghostly white moonlight, closing out the slow approach
of Fraser's mouth. Refusing thought. Refusing the cold white landscape and
the watchful eye of the pale moon. Refusing panic. Refusing everything but
what Benny wanted. 

 Fraser's lips touched his. Rough dry silk and warm living breath
feathered across his mouth, a fleeting caress. 

 Ray's body shuddered once, uncontrollably. Cold, fear, passion-- he
couldn't tell which. Benny pulled back from him, leaving him shivering and
confused. 

 Benny went back to his knees before Ray could recover, digging into the
snowdrift again. Ray buttoned back up and resumed helping Fraser move the
snow he didn't simply pack down. Before long, Benny's legs disappeared and
Dief came up, whining a little, poking his head in to see what was going
on. 

 "Come inside and help me, Ray." Benny's voice emerged, muffled by the
snow. Ray nervously crawled inside and found that the short tunnel opened
out into a narrow foxhole just slightly taller and wider than Benny's
body. "Bring Diefenbaker, if he'll come. Pull the extra snow behind you
and pack it over the entry, but leave a hole the size of your open hand
for air to get in." 

 Ray crawled back out again and coaxed Dief into the hole ahead of him,
then squirmed around until he could slide in feet first. "We have to pack
the snow tightly enough that we'll all fit." Fraser sounded weary and
cold. 

 "Yeah, OK." Ray squirmed for room, gouging at the snow with elbows and
knees and even with his head. He grimaced. This was getting him wet, but
Fraser was much wetter. 

 Together they managed to wallow out a minimum of elbow room, just enough
for them and Dief to share, then lay panting in the darkness. Ray reached
to feel how wet Benny's clothes were, grunting as Dief's clumsy paws
scratched heavily on his ribs and legs as the wolf squirmed across them to
lie in the curve behind Fraser's knees. Good. Benny needed the extra
warmth more than Ray did. 

 "You aren't touching the snow anywhere?" Benny's teeth chattered. 

 Ray squirmed around a little more. "Nah," he announced. Except for the
floor, but they couldn't do much about that. 

 "Good. This should insulate us enough to survive until morning, Ray. I
hope we won't need to spend a second night above the snow line." Fraser
sounded apologetic. 

 "How're your hands?" Ray followed Fraser's arms down till he found his
friend's icy hands and tucked them against his body. "Come on, Benny. We
gotta warm up here." 

 "We'll need to flex our toes and feet through the night to keep the blood
flowing so we won't be frostbitten." Benny came into Ray's arms and they
struggled to arrange themselves comfortably, sliding arms back inside each
other's jackets, twining their legs, bringing the maximum amount of body
surface into contact. Ray could feel Benny's strong calf and thigh muscles
tensing and relaxing as he took his own advice, and he followed suit. 

 Necessity. Benny's solid warm body, the soft skin of his face against
Ray's neck. Necessary and imperative for survival. And oh-so-good in
contrast to the numbing cold, sweet like the fleeting touch of Benny's
mouth.... Shit, he shouldn't be thinking like that, but what else was
there to think about except the insidious creeping cold? 

 "We should talk to keep one another awake." Benny's voice hitched
suddenly, almost unnoticeable, but Ray recognized his pain. It was how
Fraser and Victoria had saved one another in the snow. 

 "So, what ya wanna talk about?" Ray's attempt at a cheerful tone fell
flat in the darkness. There was so much to talk about, and most of it was
intimate and painful and definitely not on the agenda. 

 Benny also seemed to feel the weight of the potential subject matter
keenly; he swallowed hard and remained uncharacteristically silent for a
long moment. Just when Ray was drawing breath to start reciting the
alphabet, sing *Camptown Races,* or do anything to end the heavy silence,
Benny spoke up. 

 "How did you find me?" Fraser shifted slightly, beginning to warm in
Ray's arms. "I only sent the envelopes when we were ready to leave
wherever we were and start over again in a new city." 

 "You were pretty consistent moving around different regions," Ray
answered. "And you never revisited any city twice. You were out west, and
there's not much there. I took a long shot." 

 Fraser nodded. "I certainly did not expect to see you in the alley." 

 That was the understatement of the year, Ray suspected. It conjured the
memory of Benny on his knees, his mouth wet and reddened... Ray tensed. 

 "I didn't expect to see you there either, Benny." Ray said the words
without thinking, and it was Fraser's turn to draw tight with tension. 

 "It wasn't so bad, at first." Benny sounded as though the words were
being torn from him. "We didn't have anything. The diamonds were left
behind scattered all over the platform in Chicago, and she'd abandoned the
money to make the frame for you. I couldn't get a job without a green
card. So Victoria flattered me. She said I was handsome, and that we could
use that to earn money without having to go through the government red
tape... at first I escorted women to social affairs. That was when I began
to send the envelopes to you." 

 "Benny..." Ray let the grief he felt escape into his voice without shame.
"You don't have to--" 

 "Yes, Ray. Yes, I do." Fraser spoke with slow intensity. "You came to
find me; you're planning to vouch for me to Leftenant Welsh and
Superintendent Moffat. You deserve to know the truth. You have to know." 

 Acquiescing uncomfortably, Ray lay still and let Fraser find the words to
begin. 

 "After a time we were approached by a man who had observed me with an
older lady at a bureaucratic function. He asked for my services, and
offered to pay a considerable sum, much more than the ladies who had hired
me for my companionship. I accompanied him to a restaurant for dinner, and
we parted when the evening was over. After that..." Fraser hesitated.
"There was repeat business from him, and the offer of more money for...
additional services... and when I refused, the offers increased. I didn't
tell Victoria about them. At last he approached her with his offer... she
was furious that I hadn't told her, and even angrier that I hadn't
accepted the money, Ray. She accepted on my behalf, and when he left, she
attacked me like a wild thing, accusing me of ruining her life not once,
but twice..." Fraser's voice faltered with terrible hurt and guilt, and
Ray held him tighter, offering what little comfort he could. 

 "It's enough, Benny. I understand." Ray pressed his cheek against
Fraser's, feeling their beard stubble scrape together, feeling Benny's
warm skin... not warm enough, but so much better than the cold snow under
them and the cold air surrounding them. 

 "I did what she wanted," Benny continued, his voice low and tortured,
helpless in the grip of his relentless drive to confess. Unable to find
words, Ray just held Benny tightly, not flinching away, hoping it would be
enough. He could hear the faint slick of Fraser's tongue as he licked his
lips, searching for some way to continue. 

 Benny's lips. He wasn't going to think about them now. So close to him in
the darkness, close enough to reach out and touch, and Benny needed
comfort so badly... he shifted, moving just a little further away from
temptation. 

 "I never kissed them, Ray." 

 Dammit, Benny always seemed to read his mind at the worst possible time.
Why didn't he ever do that when they were fishing or hiding behind
boulders or just cruising down the highway in the Riv with Ray wondering
how far to the next McDonald's? 

 "I did what they wanted of me, for the most part, but never that.
Eventually I found myself unwilling to kiss Victoria, as well." Fraser's
voice held a tough of anger now, rough beneath the sad silk of his guilt. 

 "I have rarely been touched, Ray. My family... expressions of physical
affection were rare and significant during my childhood." Benny's voice
formed a steady stream now, words leaving him as though a dam had broken
inside. "Given the nature of my conduct, I couldn't afford to let touch
affect me profoundly any longer, so I invested certain forms of contact
with the intimacy once reserved for them all, and then I chose to withhold
them." 

 Ray gently circled his fingertips over the point of Benny's shoulder
blade, keenly aware of how much he was touching Benny now, and that it had
been just such circumstances and contact that had led to Benny's obsession
with Victoria. "Yeah," he muttered hoarsely. "I can see how you'd have to
do that, Benny." Fuck, but it was cold, the damp moisture seeping in
through his coat and his khakis where they lay against the slow-melting
snow of the floor. And Benny had kissed him. God. The one thing he'd said
he wouldn't do, and he'd done it with Ray. 

 Ray had no idea what to do about that. 

 "So many women and men," Benny continued, sounding lost. "And they were
all empty, Ray. As empty as I felt. With each one, even Victoria, that
emptiness grew until it seems as if it is all there is left of me." Fraser
shifted, changing the position of their legs. Ray welcomed the sudden
increase in his circulation. 

 "They all took from you, Benny, and nobody gave you anything back. That's
not the way it's supposed to be." Not with sex. And not with respect,
either. Not with thanks or kindness or any of the hundred other good
things Fraser had given freely for as long as Ray had known him. 

 Benny nodded, invisible in the darkness, his cheek brushing Ray's. "I
stopped trying to help anyone, Ray." He sounded quietly heartbroken. 

 It wasn't true. Fraser had kept giving to Ray, and to Victoria. Even to
the clients like Tom he'd given courtesy and integrity. Not much, perhaps,
by the harsh standard Fraser set for himself, but hardly nothing. "You did
what you could. More than anybody else would have." 

 "My father..." Fraser hesitated, framing his words. "After I let Victoria
go to prison, he told me I'd never get a second chance. He was right. I
insisted on trying anyway, and you see what became of it. I wonder if my
father meant that would always be true, and that Victoria had been my only
chance to be happy, but that I'd failed to take it at the right time and
now it was too late." 

 Ray listened, understanding that the confessions came from bone-deep
inside Fraser, recognizing what it cost him to speak these words and
reveal the fear and weakness that lay inside him. Anger flared, focused on
Benny's father. He'd meant what he said when he spoke to Benny about a
second chance. Benny's dad must have been a hard man to tell his son
something so cruel and unequivocal. Like his own old man, calling Fraser a
faggot and telling Ray to ditch him. Ray winced inwardly. 

 "When I saw you in Las Vegas, Ray... I felt hope again, hope that I
believed I'd lost forever. That day after I left your hotel room...."
Fraser's arms tightened around Ray, his low voice echoing mournfully in
the small cave. "I thought about my father a great deal, Ray. I could hear
what he would say to me-- not to pass up the chance you offered, because
it was my first and only chance to get back what I'd lost, and because if
I did, I'd never have another...." 

 "Benny." Ray cradled him close helplessly, searching for words of comfort
and reassurance, but he knew that what Fraser said might very well be
true. If Edwards had cleaned him out before Benny changed his mind, Ray
would have had very little option but to return to Chicago empty-handed.
"I'm glad you didn't pass it up." He hugged his friend fiercely, tears
stinging at the corners of his eyes. 

 "I'm glad too, Ray. Your friendship is foremost among the things I
regretted leaving. My father once wrote in his journal that 'A friend is
someone who won't stop until he finds you and brings you home.'" Benny
swallowed. "He was right, Ray. You're a true friend. Perhaps the only
friend I've ever had." Fraser's torrent of words abruptly ran dry, leaving
a silence in their tiny shelter that was broken only by the rapid rasp of
Dief's breathing. 

 "Thanks, Benny." Ray tried not to sound too gruff, but his throat
threatened to close up on him. "I missed you too. And your Inuit stories.
Why don't I tell you about the time Lieutenant Welsh made Gardino go
undercover as a clown at the Mayor's son's fourth birthday party, then you
can tell me a couple of them." 

 He could feel Fraser's weak smile in the darkness, a subtle shifting in
the face that lay against his neck. "I would enjoy that, Ray." 

 The worst of the tension ebbed then, and they passed the long night
alternating stories and shivering, pressing close and working their numbed
extremities against the cold. After a while it seemed to Ray that he had
spent eternity lying there jealously hoarding the warmth of their entwined
bodies, breathing the same air as Benny and feeling Benny's breath
whispering against him. He listened to Benny murmur stories and shared his
own, soft words warm against chilled skin, until the dim pre-dawn light
finally turned the darkness pale.  

 Too cold to wait any longer, they emerged into the dawn to stamp their
numb feet and flex their cramped muscles before setting out, steadily
pressing upward. Dief complained loudly about the absence of breakfast,
but he set the pace, loping across the hard-crusted snow with his tail
waving. 

 The sun rose with an almost balmy swell of warmth, finally burning away
the worst of the lingering chill Ray felt from their long night buried in
the snow. As sensation returned to his toes, he was relieved to realize
that the most serious injury he'd sustained seemed to be to his leather
shoes. Badly scuffed, they showed signs of separating from the soles and
curling up into unrecognizable oblivion. His jacket was in a sad state
too, and so was Benny's-- both of them wet and gritty with dirt. So much
for Mountie Scotchgarding. 

 Ray's nose was running, and as he wiped it with his sleeve he hoped Benny
was right about not spending another night above the snow line. Glancing
behind, he searched their back trail and found a moving speck. "Edwards,"
he pointed, and Fraser nodded, then glanced up at the sun. 

 "He's still alone. That improves our chances considerably." Fraser knelt
for a moment, plunging his hands into the snow in two separate places and
lifting out the plug between them, shaking it till it shattered, examining
what he found. When he stood, ignoring Ray's inquisitive look, he changed
their trajectory slightly, leading them up a steep slope in a difficult
zig-zag pattern that roughly paralleled the nearest ridge. Ray floundered
in his wake, discouraged-- he'd hoped Edwards might give up. 

 "What you got in mind?" 

 "Quietly, Ray." Benny responded in a hushed whisper. He scanned the
ground keenly. 

 Ray bit back his complaints and settled for glaring at Fraser instead.
They labored upward with agonizing care until they crested the ridge and
Fraser stopped. He looked haggard and tired, his hair dirty and wet with
sweat. 

 "End of the line, Ray." Fraser slumped to sit on a half-exposed boulder. 

 "This is it, huh?" Ray gazed around. "Doesn't look like much to me." 

 "If we go much higher, we could start having difficulty with altitude
sickness." Fraser tipped his head back, shielding his eyes from the sun
with the blade of his palm. "Not to mention it's going to get colder the
higher we go. Without better gear, we won't make it through another night
at this altitude." He sounded matter-of-fact and calm. 

 Ray frowned. "So after all we've been through, we're going to sit here
and wait for Edwards so you can write him a check?" 

 Fraser raised his eyebrows at Ray, blinking. "Well, no, Ray. I don't have
a checking account." 

 "Then what did you do with the money?" Ray heard his own voice squeak
with exasperation. 

 "While you attempted to get reception on your cellular phone, I placed
the folded cashier's check under the floor mat in the car." 

 Ray blinked at Fraser's earnest expression. "You left it under the floor
mat." 

 "Yes, Ray." Fraser nodded. 

 "And Martin didn't think to search the car before he took off after us."
Ray shook his head with disbelief. "I don't know which of us three is
worst off, Benny. You for doing that, him for not looking, or me for
leaving my cell phone lyin' right there next to that check." 

 Fraser tilted his head and drew breath to answer. 

 "Never mind, I don't wanna hear it." Ray held up a forestalling hand. "So
you don't have the check. What are you gonna tell Edwards when he shows up
and asks for it?" 

 "I suppose I should prepare for that eventuality." Fraser rose. "Stand
well back, Ray. Diefenbaker, stay with him." Sudden steel in Fraser's
voice, and for once the wolf obeyed rapidly, whining at Fraser and
scratching the snow with one nervous forepaw. 

 "Benny, what are you gonna do?" 

 "Nothing, perhaps." Fraser strode out toward the crest of the hill.
Icicles glistened there, dripping from the boulders at the tip of the
ridge, the snow gleaming painfully in the bright sunlight. Fraser climbed
to the tip of one boulder, fearless, and tucked his hands behind his back,
unconsciously assuming parade rest. 

 "Benny, he'll see you!" Ray hissed. 

 "Indeed, Ray." Fraser sounded calm. 

 "Has it slipped your mind that he has a gun?" Ray's voice rose
dangerously and he had to modulate it again. 

 "That fact is foremost in my mind." 

 Ray rolled his eyes with exasperation. "Damn it, Benny!" He moved
forward, and Fraser flung out a hand sharply, halting him in mid-step. 

 "Martin!" Fraser called, his voice echoing roundly through the valley.
Ray swore under his breath, taking another step forward. A crack rang out
and rock splinters flew near Fraser's feet, one of them grazing Ray's
cheek painfully. Fraser stood still. 

 "Benny, for Christ's sake!" Ray snatched at Fraser as another gunshot
pierced the air, dragging him down from the rock and coming
gut-wrenchingly close to sending both of them toppling over the edge. 

 A low groan rent the air, like nothing Ray had ever heard. Then Benny was
clawing at him with hard, urgent hands and they scrambled back from the
edge together. The ground shook underneath them, rumbling horribly, and
they rolled through wet, clinging snow, hanging on for dear life. Ray
wound up on his back with Fraser's weight half-over him, staring up at the
sun as the deafening roar played itself out, receding into a distant
rumble, then to nothing. 

 Diefenbaker whined. 

 Benny recovered first, crawling back toward the edge. A puff of white
hung in the air, like fog or smoke rising from the valley, gradually
dissipating. Ray followed on Benny's heels shakily. 

 There was no sign of Edwards, or of their own trail. Everything was
simply wiped away, obliterated by the avalanche. 

 "I found a promising cleavage plane approximately eleven inches down in
the snow pack I examined earlier," Fraser explained. "Conditions were such
that it seemed likely it could give way, given the proper encouragement." 

 "And you couldn't let me in on this information, is that it? It's the law
of the wild, right? If you tell your partner what you're planning, then
your crazy plan won't work?" 

 "Actually, Ray, Jack London wrote that the law of the wild was 'eat or be
eaten.'" Fraser looked at him guilelessly, covered in powdery snow.
Diefenbaker barked once, clearly a sound of smug agreement. 

 "Did you have to use yourself for target practice?" Ray changed the
subject without losing heat. 

 Fraser's lips curved upward, his eyes warm. "It seemed the best way to
get Martin to shoot and trigger the avalanche." 

 Ray threw up his hands. "Let's get off this mountain before we wind up
spending the night in another snowdrift." He started to stalk downward,
then halted. "It is safe, right?" 

 "It's considerably safer than it was when we climbed." Benny's eyes still
held that faint smile. 

 "Well, let's get goin'. We gotta make it back to Chicago before Welsh has
an apoplectic fit." Ray turned his nose toward civilization. "You got any
idea what you're going to say to Superintendent Moffat?" The question hung
between them, awaiting Fraser's decision. 

 "Actually, Ray, I do." Benny almost smiled, his eyes a little nervous.
"After all, I got my man." 

 "You do remember that's not the real Mountie motto, don't you?" Ray
pointed out wryly, relieved. 

 "Well, of course, Ray." Fraser looked puzzled. "The real motto is 'Defend
the right.' Which doesn't change the fact that both Victoria and Martin
are now accounted for in the eyes of the law--" 

 Ray just rolled his eyes and started stomping down the mountain to hide
his grin. 

 It took them two days to get into town-- long hard days that aggravated
blisters and chilblains on their feet. Two days of walking and fishing,
and one moderately chilly night spent huddled by a campfire. It was a
lower elevation and the night air was a lot warmer, so they lay down
separately on either side of the campfire to sleep. 

 The long hike gave Ray plenty of time for thinking, and predictably, his
thoughts kept circling around one thing: he'd let Fraser kiss him. He'd
stood still on that mountaintop and let another guy's lips touch his own
and he hadn't decked Fraser for it. 

 Not at all. He'd... it had been... it wasn't that bad. 

 Ray increased their pace, trying to outrun his discomfort. 

 By the time they stumbled into a rustic cross-country skiing/hunting
lodge late in the second day, all Ray's exhausted mind could hold was the
gnawing hunger in his stomach, the pain in his feet, and the memory of
that butterfly-brush of lips. They looked like hell, enough to make the
desk clerk blink and edge nervously toward a phone, but Ray still had his
wallet and showing his money did plenty to calm her down. 

 "Gimme the best room you got left and send up everything Room Service can
get on two trays." He started peeling off bills, not really caring what it
cost. All he wanted was food and a shower and bed, in that order. The girl
fished out a room key with gratifying speed. 

 After less than five minutes, he and Benny were climbing a flight of
dark-stained oak steps up to their room. The door opened to reveal a cozy,
masculine looking space with hardwood floors, wool rugs, dark-green
bedding, and a wide fireplace with a stuffed deer's head stuck over the
mantel. Ray winced away from its glassy-eyed stare, feeling punchy. 

 He flopped onto the right-hand bed, and feeling its welcoming softness,
his body and brain did a quick shuffle; sleep might just be even more
attractive than a bath and food. 

 "You're getting the coverlet dirty, Ray." 

 Ray groaned and hauled himself up. "So you can tramp around in the
wilderness for days and only get half as dirty as the average man? That's
no reason to rub it in, Fraser." He staggered to the bathroom and
showered, then couldn't stand the thought of putting his ruined clothes
back on, so he headed out into the main room with a towel wrapped around
his waist, discovering that Fraser had started a fire. 

 "There's hot water left." Ray slumped into an easy chair, not unconscious
of Fraser's eyes lingering on him. "Go get your bath. Just don't go to
sleep and fall in." A shiver slid down his spine when Benny hesitated. "By
the time you get out, room service ought to be here." 

 "Yes, Ray." Fraser disappeared quietly. 

 Ray sat and stared into the fire, trying not to drift off before Room
Service came. He was nodding when they tapped at the door, and he had them
set the trays between the two beds before he tipped them to leave. 

 Big bowls of thick, hearty clam chowder, huge sizzling medium-rare ribeye
steaks, green beans, giant baked potatoes slit open and dripping with
butter and sour cream. Garlic toast. A pot of hot tea with honey. 

 "Fraser, get out here before I eat yours, too!" Ray fidgeted and
struggled not to eat more than just a piece of crust off his bread. 

 Benny emerged quickly, a towel wrapped around his hips, vigorously drying
his hair. Ray decided that was enough polite waiting and tore into his
food like a starving man-- which, of course, he was. 

 Fraser sat down next to him and did likewise, and for a long time the
only noise was the clink of tableware and the sounds of chewing and
swallowing. Finally Ray flopped onto his back and groaned. "I'm gonna
explode, Benny." 

 "It's very good, Ray." For once Fraser answered with his mouth full. 

 Now that they were fed, clean, and sheltered, Ray was no longer
preoccupied with survival, and his thoughts redirected themselves
accordingly. He stared up at the dark-stained wooden beams of the high
ceiling, feeling tension gather in him like a tightly coiled spring. 

 He couldn't avoid it any more. 

 Fraser had been with a man. Men. And that meant he might want to be with
Ray. That was the huge looming truth of it, the thundering possibility
that had hung over Ray's head for days now, leaving him quivering with
wonder and terror. 

 "Benny, why'd you kiss me?" Ray stared at the ceiling, hearing the words
that had circled in his head all the way down the mountain come out of his
mouth without conscious intent. His heart accelerated with a sharp,
exhilarating, and terrifying edge of excitement. 

 Fraser stilled, then carefully set down the mug of tea he held. His hands
folded themselves in his lap, clutching one another over the skirt of the
fluffy white towel. "I was expressing my affection and gratitude to you
during a difficult moment, Ray. Words..." he swallowed. "Words did not
seem to suffice." 

 Ray nodded, covering his face with his arm, peering out with one eye. "It
was awfully cold up there, wasn't it, Benny?" 

 "Yes. Indeed it was." The nervous hands switched places. 

 "I guess we had to do a lotta stuff we wouldn't have done otherwise," Ray
mused nervously, afraid to stop talking. "Stuff like hugging and sleeping
close and warming your hands and tryin' to keep from freezing to death." 

 "Yes, Ray." Fraser's voice sounded strained. 

 "It's all right, Fraser. I'm not gonna punch you or anything." Ray held
his breath. 

 "Thank you." Fraser still sounded upset. Again the silence stretched
uncomfortably. 

 Ray didn't know what he was hoping for... only that he didn't know how to
make it happen with clumsy words, and the silence was so bad he had to
talk, had to say something to make it stop. He had to make it all right,
and he didn't know how. "We were freezing to death, getting chased by a
nut with a gun. We were both sorta out of our heads, weren't we." No
response, and Ray felt vaguely disappointed and more than a little
ashamed. "No foul, OK?" 

 "No foul, Ray." Benny answered soberly, with a quiet nod, still
withdrawn. 

 Aw, hell. "We still friends?" Ray knew the moment was ending, and he
lifted his arm to look, his heart oddly heavy. 

 "Of course, Ray. As you wish." Fraser carried the trays away and went to
the opposite bed, drawing back the covers. 

 Ray watched with a fresh pang of uncertain regret as Benny slipped
between the crisp white sheets. In a moment, Fraser's arm emerged to let
his towel drop to the floor. 

 "Night, Benny." 

 "Good night, Ray." 

 It was over; the conversation was over, and nothing was changed. 

 Exhausted and at a loss, Ray got up and climbed under his own covers,
yawning so hard his jaw cracked. He watched the long, still ridge of
Fraser's back as his eyelids drooped, feeling a sense of loss that his
friend was not pressed up against him, as they had slept for so many
nights now. 

 Maybe everything would seem better in the morning. 

 Finally Ray dropped off, sliding into oppressive dreams. 

 -end- 

End