Christmas Spirit	  Christmas Spirit

 by Grey

  

 Author's website: http://www.e-fic.com/~grey/

 Disclaimer: 

 Author's Notes: Thanks to XFreak for putting up wiht my DS fixation and
to Bast for feeding the fire.

 Story Notes: Lots of spoilers for "Good for the Soul", "Mountie on the
Bounty", and about a dozen others. 

 

 

 Christmas Spirit
 By Grey 

 Whoa, take it easy. 

 Stand up straight, shoulders back, and don't look down. 

 Good plan unless the floor tilts and drops a guy on his skinny ass when
he's just walking along minding his own business. 

 Ray stumbled to his desk chair, his shot-to-shit coordination making life
harder than it should be. He'd had the spins before, but not at the
station. At least he was off duty, so Welsh couldn't chew his ass for
that. 

 Gulping the last of his eggnog, Ray made a face. Not for the first time
he suspected someone spiked the stuff with high octane booze, but maybe he
needed a few more sample shots just to make sure. 

 Smiling at his own joke, kind of dreamy, he sneaked a peek over at Fraser
who was still cornered by every female in the place. 

 Fuck. That sobered his ass up quick. 

 Ray definitely needed another drink. As soon as the room stopped
twirling, he'd get one, a super dooper big one. Meanwhile, he tortured
himself by watching his partner, the guy who looked like something off a
Christmas tree, all dressed in red, shiny and bright. 

 Oh, yeah, Ray needed another drink all right, the sooner the better. 

 He stood up, but sat right back down again in a hurry. Ray winced as Lt.
Welsh's heavy hand squeezed his shoulder. "How are we doing tonight,
Detective?" 

 Ray worked like the dickens to get his tongue to stop slurring all over
the place and act right. "Fine, sir, just dandy." 

 "Oh, I can see that." 

 "You?" 

 "Never better." Welsh picked up the paper cup and sniffed it before
putting it back down. "How many of these have you had?" 

 "Lost count." 

 Welsh cursed under his breath. 

 But Ray was cool, Ray was fine. No problem. Smooth as glass, Ray just
kept talking, rattling off all kinds of casual, shoot the breeze shit.
"Hell, I don't even like eggnog, Lieutenant, honest, but I gotta tell ya,
this stuff is pretty damn good." 

 "And you didn't notice it tasted more like nog than egg than it
should've?" 

 "I'm no conni...conniwhatsis of Christmas drinks, sir. Over at the 15th,
they couldn't make eggnog worth shit, but this stuff, this stuff is the
best ever. Bet we could sell it and make a fortune. We could all be rich
off our asses." Ray burped and covered his mouth with his fist. "Sir." 

 Welsh sighed deeply as he patted Ray's shoulder more like a friend than a
boss. "Look, Kowalski...Ray, stay here. I'll get someone to drive you
home." 

 "Party over, sir?" 

 "I'd just as soon you didn't have to sleep it off in the cells on
Christmas." 

 Ray lifted his empty paper cup in a toast, his belly all warm and cozy,
grateful for the kindness. "Thanks. Merry Christmas to you, too, sir." 

 Welsh shook his head and walked away, leaving Ray to close his eyes, his
head falling back against the bulletin board behind him with a soft thud.
It made him weary as hell all of a sudden to think about the holidays. 

 Christmas sucked this year. Hell, why the fuck should this year be any
different? Stella still wanted him to drop dead and Fraser, well, Fraser
got the shit kicked out of him because Ray fucked up, didn't show up like
he was supposed to. Stupid ass Mountie depended on him to watch his back,
but didn't bother to listen to reason, didn't bother to listen to anybody
who knew anything about how these things worked in the big city. Just had
to do everything his own way, like Canadians had all the fucking answers.
Selfish, selfish Mountie, too fucking stubborn for words. Shit. 

 Ray crossed his arms, his eyes still squeezed shut, and shivered. Seeing
Fraser beat down like that, seeing his best friend and partner all bruised
up and bloody, that hurt, that hurt worse than if they'd kicked Ray's ass
instead. Ray, he could take a punch and keep on ticking, keep on coming
back for more, but Fraser? Damn, nobody hurt Fraser, not if Ray could help
it. 

 Fuck Warfield. 

 Hope he got his ass fucked in prison. 

 Hope the guy burned in hell like a big crispy critter. 

 Fuck Warfield and the other mobbed up guys who thought they could run the
world and get away with murder. 

 Thing was, they usually did get away with all that shit. Fraser got lucky
this time. Ray got lucky. He didn't think he could stand it if something
happened to Fraser because he couldn't get the guy to pay attention to
what mattered. 

 Fuck. He'd never forgive himself if someone killed Fraser before he did. 


 "Constable." 

 "Lieutenant." 

 "I need to speak with you for a moment. Excuse me, ladies." 

 Fraser moved away from the circle of women, Welsh's guiding hand on his
arm, his face filled with relief. "Thank you, sir." 

 Welsh didn't have to ask why he was being thanked. "You're welcome." The
older man paused and then leaned in a little closer, his voice much more
quiet than usual. "Look, Constable, it appears we have a bit of a
situation." 

 "A situation, sir?" 

 "A situation. Apparently some numbskull in the building thought it might
be amusing to spike the eggnog." 

 "Spike?" 

 "Lace, add to. Somebody dumped a whole jug of Bacardi 151 rum into the
bowl." 

 "Isn't that illegal?" 

 "Yes, and when I find the culprit, his ass will be sore for the next week
because he's going to be sitting at his desk, filling out paperwork he
never dreamed of." 

 "So you know who did it?" 

 "That's not important." Welsh turned Fraser's body and pointed toward
Ray's desk. "The real problem right now is your partner." 

 Suddenly more concerned, Fraser trained his attention on Ray, who sat
with his eyes closed and his head leaning back against the wall. The Santa
hat on his head slipped to one side and the silver tinsel garland draped
around his neck like some shiny, cheap boa. Ray wore a goofy grin and the
expression worse for wear had a whole new meaning for the Mountie. "Oh,
dear." 

 "Exactly. What I need for you to do is to get his butt home in one
piece." 

 Nodding, mission clear, Fraser agreed. "I can do that." 

 "Good, good." Welsh shook his head in disgust as he glanced around the
squad room, the dancing and frolicking already out of hand. "Now, I just
have to find rides home for the rest of this crew. I swear, Dewey's going
to be sorry when I get my hands on him." 

 "As well he should be, Lieutenant. This wasn't some childish prank. Such
behavior could lead to serious consequences." 

 "Tell me about it. I already pulled two couples out of the closet. I
don't need to be anybody's godfather nine months from now." Welsh patted
Fraser's shoulder. "Take your partner home, Constable. Make sure he
doesn't do something stupid." 

 "Stupid, sir?" 

 "Like go out and get himself busted up." 

 Fraser frowned and then stole a look at Ray who still sat quietly at his
desk. "I don't understand, sir." 

 "Look, don't tell him I said this, but he kind of blames himself for what
happened earlier. That, plus, his ex-wife blowing him off in front of the
squad, well, that kind of thing weighs heavy on a man, especially a guy
like Kowalski and especially this time of year." 

 "He does seem to be rather taken with Stella despite her pointed
rejections." 

 Welsh nodded in agreement and sympathy. "I've got to tell you, that
woman, well, it's Christmas, so I won't say what I'm thinking." Welsh
patted Fraser's back. "Go on, take the poor guy home. He's off tomorrow
and the next day. Maybe you two can patch things up." 

 "Patch things up? There must be some misunderstanding. I don't hold Ray
responsible for what Mr. Warfield did." 

 "Tell him that." As Welsh turned to leave, he paused and added, "Oh, and
Merry Christmas, Constable. I hope this one is better than those you
talked about in your toast." 

 "Thank you, sir. Merry Christmas to you as well." 

 Fraser stood still as Welsh walked away, off to save Huey who had
spontaneously hopped on top of his desk to do a quick jig. Shaking his
head with worry and dismay, Fraser walked over to Ray. He touched his
partner's shoulder but got no immediate reaction. So, he traced a finger
down along Ray's cheek, "Ray?" 

 A hand captured Fraser's wrist, the grip stronger than Fraser expected.
"Hey. What ya doing there, Fraser, old buddy, old pal?" 

 "I thought I'd drive you home, Ray." 

 "Yeah?" 

 "Yes. You seem to be a little under the weather." 

 "Don't you mean under the influence?" 

 "Yes, I suppose I do." 

 "You?" 

 "Me what?" 

 "You ever been under the influence? You ever drink at all?" 

 "I did once, but not anymore." 

 "How come?" 

 "It's a long story about youthful indiscretion and I'd rather not go into
the details." 

 Ray let Fraser's arm go as he nodded to himself. "Sure, okay. Young and
stupid. Been there, done that." Slowly, he took off the hat and tinsel,
dropping them on the pile of folders. 

 Putting his hands flat on his desk, Ray stood up, suddenly unsteady.
Fraser got him around the waist, standing hip to hip. "Let me help, Ray." 

 Glassy blue eyes met Fraser's. "You sure you want to?" 

 "Why wouldn't I want to, Ray?" 

 "I sort of let you down today, Fraser, or did you miss that while they
were stomping your head in?" 

 "Ray, I think we need to talk about that. I don't blame you for what
happened." 

 "I know that." 

 "Then I don't understand--" 

 "I know that, too." 

 "Ray--" 

 "Just shut up and get me out of here, okay? I don't feel so good all of a
sudden." 

 Ray's green complexion supported that statement. "Are you going to be
ill?" 

 "God, I hope not, not until I get outside. I'd never live it down." 

 "Perhaps the men's room?" 

 "Get me out of here, Fraser. Now, before I embarrass myself." 

 Fraser took pity on him and did just that, making sure that once they
made it to the parking lot, Ray had the best bushes to use for cover and
that Diefenbaker stayed out of his way until he finished being sick.
Reaching into his pocket, Fraser pulled out the picture of his family and
a handkerchief. He put the framed picture away again and held out the
cloth to Ray. "Here. Use this." 

 "Thanks." Ray wiped his mouth and continued to lean against the building
until the dizziness passed. "Sorry." 

 "It's quite all right. You had no way of knowing that someone put liquor
in the eggnog." 

 "Sure I did." 

 "You did?" 

 "Sure. I could taste it." 

 Fraser rubbed his eyebrow, completely perplexed. "Then why did you
proceed to drink so much?" 

 "You wouldn't understand." 

 "You don't know that, Ray. Perhaps if you bothered to explain why you
deliberately became inebriated--" 

 "You mean drunk, shit-faced, plastered, blotto, three sheets to the
wind?" 

 "Whatever you call it, I'd appreciate an explanation." 

 Ray straightened up, his voice stronger, even a little pissed. "I don't
owe you an explanation, Fraser." 

 "No, no, you don't." 

 "Good, good. We understand each other. I don't owe you an explanation and
you don't owe me shit, either." 

 Frowning, Fraser stepped closer. "Ray, let's go home. You're not thinking
clearly." 

 "I'm thinking fine, Fraser, crystal clear, all brain cells going like
gang busters. We fucked up today, you and me. We weren't working as a
team. I hate when that happens, when we're out of sync." Ray swallowed
hard before he added. "It scares me, Fraser. You scare me when you pull
this shit, this whole, I'm a Mountie and nobody can touch me bullshit. You
almost got yourself killed today." 

 "I'm fine, Ray." 

 "Yeah, right. Perfect, not a cut or a bruise anywhere." 

 Weary of the argument, Fraser stepped into Ray's space, his hand on Ray's
arm. "Let's go, Ray. We'll talk about this later." 

 "Promise?" 

 "I promise." 

 "Because I'm going to lose it and go nuts if this keeps up. It's just too
damn hard when you get a bug up your ass and won't listen to anybody no
matter what. We gotta talk about this shit." 

 "I agree, we do need to talk, but preferably some place other than in the
police parking facility in the middle of the night." 

 Ray lifted his face to the dark sky and then shook his head hard several
times. His hair stood on end and his cheeks turned bright red from the icy
wind. "Okay." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, handing
them to Fraser. "You drive." 

 "Why thank you, Ray. I think that's an excellent idea." 

 "Smart ass Mountie." 

 Fraser grinned as he helped a stumbling Ray to the car. In the spirit of
Christmas, he let the name-calling pass.  

 "He's right, you know, Son. You're too hard sometimes. It's not his fault
you're obsessive and single-minded." 

 Fraser kept his eyes on the road and ignored his father sitting in the
back seat next to Diefenbaker. Beside him in the front, Ray slept, his
head propped up against the window, his arms crossed tightly around his
chest. 

 The wolf yipped and pawed at the cushion while Fraser adjusted the
mirror. "I agree, Diefenbaker. He is rather annoying." 

 "Don't talk about me like I'm not here, Son. I'm dead, not deaf." 

 "Then you should know your constant analysis of my flawed character isn't
always welcome, Dad." 

 "It's Christmas. I thought we should be together." 

 Fraser snorted at the irony. "You should have thought about that when you
were alive." 

 "True. I've said as much. It's a regret I have to live with." 

 "But you're not alive, Dad. It's rather a moot point." 

 "So it is." Fraser Senior leaned forward, talking into Fraser's ear.
"What are you going to do about the Yank?" 

 "I hardly think that's your business." 

 "He's your partner. That makes it my business. He's in a precarious state
of mind, the Yank. You make it difficult for him to work with you when you
go out on your own like you do." 

 "I had no choice." 

 "You always have a choice, Son. You and I both know you handled this
whole business poorly." 

 The aches and pains all over Fraser's body seconded that opinion. "Yes, I
know that." 

 "One should never go into a dangerous situation without backup unless
there's no alternative. If you'd asked him more directly, he would've been
there beside you, Son. Buck Frobisher and I didn't always agree on the
method, but we always agreed on the principle to enforce the law and
that's what matters. Partners stick together. Otherwise it's chaos. The
scoundrels win and it's all for nothing." 

 Ray grumbled in his sleep and shifted down a little, his head rubbing
against the seat a few times before being quiet again. Fraser swallowed
hard, knowing he never wanted to lose Ray, not if he could do anything to
prevent it. 

 "You should tell him, Son." 

 "Tell him what?" 

 "How you feel." 

 Shocked, not sure if he'd heard right, Fraser stopped at the red light
and turned in his seat. "What are you saying?" 

 "I'm saying keeping secrets from your partner can only lead to more
trouble and misunderstanding." His father waved a gloved hand toward the
intersection. "The light's green, Benton." 

 Irritated, Fraser resumed his driving, but he spoke through clenched
teeth. "I am not having this conversation." 

 "I don't see why not. You're not ashamed of how you feel. There's no
reason not to tell him. Believe me, it'll be for the good." 

 "You don't know that. Just because you're a ghost doesn't mean you know
the future." Fraser paused, suddenly unsure. "Or does it?" 

 "Being dead doesn't give me a crystal ball, Son, but it does let me know
what people are thinking. I know I've failed you in the past, but trust me
on this. The Yank needs you to tell him. He needs you to be honest." 

 "I am honest." 

 "About most things, that's true, but not telling a truth is the same as
telling a lie." 

 Fraser bit his lower lip as he pulled into the lot next to Ray's building
and parked. He didn't kill the engine, letting the heater keep the space
warm. Turning, he faced his father, disconcerted and irritated. "Why are
you pushing this? You've always discouraged me about this sort of thing in
the past." 

 "I was wrong about that, Son." 

 "You were wrong?" Suddenly angry, Fraser shook his head, his voice more
sharp. "I can't believe I'm hearing this. After all these years, you're
finally going to admit that what you did to me and Innusiq was wrong?" 

 Fraser Senior didn't back away, but kept his gaze fixed with Fraser's,
his eyes filled with a terrible sadness. "Being dead changes things. It
magnifies one's regrets. All the more reason to avoid them if you can." He
cleared his throat and sighed heavily. "You have to understand that as a
father I didn't want you to choose a path I knew would be difficult. I was
only thinking of you, Son." 

 "No, you weren't. You were thinking of yourself, about what other people
would think about your son loving another man." 

 "An aboriginal man, Benton. It would've been hard for both of you. Your
relationship would never have been accepted by either culture, not at that
time, perhaps never." 

 Fraser sat back, upset by the flood of memories of his lost childhood
friend, his first real love. "I know it would've been difficult, Dad, but
it might have been possible if I'd had even a modicum of support from my
own father." 

 "If I had supported you, you would have been ruined, Son. The service is
much more progressive now, but at the time, well, I thought I was doing
you a favor." 

 "A favor? You used your influence to have me transferred to the other
side of the country. I loved him and he left me because I was too much of
a coward to stand up for what we had." 

 "I'm sorry, Son. Even the dead can't fix the past." 

 They stayed quiet for a while longer. Ray stirred and Fraser Senior
whispered quietly before he disappeared, "Tell him, Son. Don't make the
same mistake twice." 

 "Mistake? What mistake?" Ray sat up, rubbing his bloodshot eyes, his
cheek creased from lying against the edge of the cushion. 

 "No mistake, Ray. We're here at your apartment." 

 "So why are we still in the car?" 

 "I was waiting for you to wake up." 

 "Oh, yeah. Sorry about that." 

 Diefenbaker licked Ray's face and he pushed him away with a chuckle.
"Yeah, yeah, wait up. I've got something for you upstairs." Ray met
Fraser's troubled gaze. "You're coming up, right?" 

 "Yes, Ray. I'm coming up." Fraser turned off the engine and got out, Ray
right beside him, more steady than before. 

 They walked to the front of the building and into the lobby. Ray stopped
and got his mail, pulling out several bills and cards. "Looks like another
fiver from Aunt Ruthie." 

 "Another fiver, Ray?" 

 "Yeah, my Aunt Ruthie in Florida. She always sends me five bucks for
Christmas. Has ever since I was a kid. Man, I can remember the first time
I got that five dollars, I went out and bought a whole bag of marbles and
a ton of candy. I was king of the block for a week." 

 "That's very kind of her, Ray." 

 "Yeah, yeah, it is. I need to write her back and say thanks." Ray stopped
in front of the elevator and pushed the button. "Mind if we ride up for a
change? I'm still a little wobbly." 

 "That's fine." Fraser waited beside Ray, his mind racing, not sure if he
could tell his partner what his father suggested. 

 "Fraser?" 

 "Yes?" 

 "You okay? You look a little freaked out all of a sudden." 

 "No, I'm fine, Ray. Just tired." 

 The elevator doors dinged and they got inside. Ray pushed the third floor
button. "I can see that. You've had a rough couple of days." When Fraser
didn't answer, Ray added, "You know you can talk to me about stuff, right?
I'll listen no matter what." 

 Fraser met concerned blue eyes. "Yes, I know." 

 "'Cause talking to yourself, that ain't always such a good thing." 

 Flushing a bright pink, Fraser swallowed hard. "You heard me in the car."


 "Some of it, not all of it. I must be more drunk than I thought, though,
because sometimes I could've sworn I heard another voice. Still, it was a
weird conversation." 

 "You have no idea." 

 The elevator stopped and the doors opened on Ray's floor. They walked to
his apartment quietly and went inside. Ray locked the door behind him,
dropping the door key and the mail on the counter before he slumped on the
sofa. His head fell back and he closed his eyes. 

 Fraser looked around the place, surprised. Not a single decoration
adorned the place, not a tree, not a bulb, not a single light. It looked
much like his empty office back at the Consulate except a great deal
messier. Somehow that depressed him even more. He'd always envisioned Ray
being more in tune with the seasonal celebrations. "Ray, would you like
some coffee?" 

 "You know what you get when you give a drunk coffee, Frase?" 

 "What?" 

 "A wide awake drunk." 

 "I see." 

 "But, yeah, coffee would be good. I need to wake up anyhow. You know
where the stuff is." While Fraser proceeded to make coffee, Diefenbaker
nudged at Ray's knee, forcing Ray to lean forward to ruffle his fur.
"Yeah, yeah, I didn't forget. Hold up. I'll get it. It's in the fridge." 

 "What is, Ray?" 

 "Dief's present." 

 "I hope it's not something sweet. He's gaining weight again." 

 Ray rolled his eyes and got up. "It's Christmas, Fraser. Lighten up." 

 Dief barked in agreement and Fraser shrugged. "You say that now, but just
wait until you have to run an extra ten miles all next week before
daybreak." 

 "You saying that to Dief or to me?" 

 "Both, either." 

 "Gotcha." 

 Ray opened the refrigerator and reached in the back. He pulled out a huge
beef bone and unwrapped it. "Got this down at the butcher's. Bob made sure
it's nice and fresh." He handed it to Diefenbaker, who snatched it like a
prize and ran off to the rug in front of the TV to settle down for a long
session of chewing. 

 "You spoil him, Ray." 

 "It's only once a year." 

 "Still." 

 Ray turned and leaned against the counter, his eyes more focused, his
words no longer slurred. "I'm going to get cleaned up, brush my teeth.
While I do that, make yourself at home. I bought some tea. It's in the
cabinet over the stove if you want to fix some." 

 "Thank you, Ray. That would be lovely." 

 "And then we talk, right? You and me, we'll get down to business." 

 "It's Christmas, Ray. Perhaps we should wait." 

 "I think we've waited long enough. Time to face facts, Fraser. We both
need to come clean about some stuff." 

 "Come clean?" 

 "I might be half-drunk, but I'm not deaf. I heard you talking to yourself
in the car. You got feelings to talk about and so do I. Might as well do
that before you get yourself killed." 

 "Ray--" 

 Holding up a hand, Ray shook his head to cut off any appeal. "In a
minute. I've got to go to the can first. Then we talk." 

 Reluctantly, Fraser nodded. "As you wish, Ray." 

 "That's what I'm hoping." 

 Before Fraser could ask what he meant, Ray walked down the hallway to the
bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Fraser leaned against the counter,
pinching the bridge of his nose, wondering if Ray really had any idea
about what he was asking. 

 Pushing down his own fear, Fraser put water on to boil for the tea. He
stepped to the window, noting the beginning snow in the Chicago
nightscape. He prayed that his Christmas wish might come true, that Ray
wouldn't hate him when he finally told the truth, a truth he'd been hiding
for far too long.  

 Still half-buzzed, Ray turned off the shower, the cold water only partly
clearing his head. He got out and dried off, toweling his hair until it
stood up on its own. He wrapped the towel around his waist and then
reached for the toothbrush. A nasty, sour taste furred his tongue. More
than anything he needed some mouthwash. He finished brushing and rinsed a
couple of times, avoiding his reflection in the mirror. No way did he want
to see himself, not if he looked half as bad as he felt. A quick shave was
out of the question unless he wanted to cut his own throat. 

 Carefully, his hands still a little shaky, he pulled on his briefs and
jeans before sniffing his Bull's T-shirt. It'd make another day, maybe two
if he didn't get too sweaty. He slipped it over his head and kicked the
socks and wet towel into the corner. He'd worry about laundry some other
time. Right now he had to get his act together and figure out what the
hell to do with his partner. 

 Ray dropped the lid of the toilet and slumped down, dejected, his head in
his hands. He took several deep breaths and fought down the sudden urge to
throw up. If he ever heard the word eggnog again, he was going to sock
some guy in the jaw. After a few minutes, nausea under control, he stood
up and slapped himself lightly a couple of times in the face. The smacks
made him focus on the sting and not the shit in his head that needed to
back off. He could do this, tell the truth, make Fraser understand they
could do this duet thing. 

 Opening the door, he padded down the hall to the living room barefoot and
stopped in his tracks. He looked around at the tidiness and then shook his
head in amazement. That was one hell of a fast clean up, faster than his
mum even. Jeez. 

 Fraser stood at the sink with his back to Ray, his tunic gone. The
sleeves of his Henley pushed up, Fraser finished drying the last of the
dishes, folded the towel, and turned around. He crossed his arms and
leaned back against the counter. "Hi, Ray. You certainly look better." 

 "You didn't have to clean up." 

 "I like to keep busy." 

 Running a nervous hand through his damp hair, Ray stopped complaining and
went for grateful instead. "Thanks." 

 "You're welcome." Fraser poured fresh coffee into a cup as Ray walked
over to the kitchen. "Sometimes it's easy to let things pile up." 

 "Tell me about it." 

 "If one didn't know better, Ray, one might look at the disarray and
wonder if perhaps the person who lives here might not be a bit depressed."


 "I'm a pig, Fraser, not a nut case." Ray didn't have any chocolate, so he
settled for a couple of teaspoons of sugar. He stirred it into his coffee
and took a sip. Ray held up the cup like a toast. "This is good. Thanks." 

 "One doesn't have to be considered a nut case, as it were, just for being
a bit emotionally low during the holidays. I've read several articles
recently that addressed the symptoms of seasonal depression." 

 "Sounds about as cheery as Mort with a room full of stiffs." 

 "I was just trying to point out that it's possible--" 

 Impatiently, Ray interrupted and shook his head in denial. "Christmas
sucks sometimes, Fraser, especially when you're single, but that's got
nothing to do with me being a slob." 

 Fraser refused to let it go. "Ray, I've been to your apartment many
times, but it's never been as bad as this." 

 "So sue me." 

 "Ray--" 

 "Fraser." 

 The standoff only lasted a few extra seconds before Fraser complained, "I
thought we were going to talk, not bicker." 

 "We are, but we're not talkin' about my being too lazy to clean up after
myself." Wanting to change the subject, Ray glanced over at Dief asleep on
the rug, the bone already half gone. "Furface liked his present, huh?" 

 "It would appear so. I should be grateful it wasn't a pineapple pizza." 

 "Nah, Tony doesn't deliver on Christmas. He shuts down every year for a
couple of days to go see his family in New York." 

 "That must be difficult for you." 

 Ray checked out the slight smirk, happy that Fraser hadn't lost his dry
sense of humor. Not everybody got that, that Fraser could zing a person
good when he wanted. Ray liked that about him, liked that a lot, liked
that Fraser could give as good as he got and not get pissed about it,
well, not too often anyway. "Hardy har har, Mr. Funny Guy." 

 Fraser smiled, but didn't say anything. Instead, he picked up his tea and
moved to the living room. He sat down on the sofa and sipped, composed,
like he didn't have a fucking care in the world. Ray knew better and
followed him, finally ready to get serious. He settled in the chair,
putting his cup on the coffee table now cleared of all the junk piled up
on it just fifteen minutes earlier. He didn't even want to ask where the
hell it all went. Instead he focused on the task at hand, to get Fraser to
open up and face facts about what he wanted, what they both needed to do
to keep this thing alive between them. "So, you want to go first or what?"


 "I'd prefer you start, Ray. I'm not sure where you want this conversation
to go." 

 Nodding, more than happy to start off, Ray took a swing at it. "Look,
I've already said I was proud of what you did, Fraser, just not about how
you did it. You've got balls, I'll give you that, but for such a smart
guy, you don't always use your head." 

 "Understood." 

 Annoyed as hell, Ray snapped, "What's that mean, understood? You
understand why I'm upset or that you're not going to do it again?" 

 "Both I would imagine." 

 "You want to explain that? 'Cause from where I sit, it's like you're
blowing me off, like you think I'm overreacting about this whole mess." 

 "I understand your concerns, Ray. You're upset because you think I
unwisely put myself at risk. Perhaps you're right." 

 "Perhaps?" 

 Fraser hesitated before he finally admitted, "I should have found a
different way to approach the problem. I let my aim to help Tommy surpass
my good judgment. I apologize for that." Before Ray pressed for more,
Fraser leaned forward, his voice suddenly softer as he switched gears.
"You know, Ray, becoming an officer of the law is all I ever wanted to do.
For as far back as I can remember, that goal never changed." 

 Ray eased back in his chair, keeping an eye on his partner, noting how
Fraser kept his head down when he spoke, how his usually precise speech
wavered a lot more than it should have. It made him uneasy as hell to see
Fraser unsettled like that, but at the same time, it gave him hope that he
might be getting somewhere, breaking through that thick skull of his. He
kept his voice even and played along. "You never wanted to be anything
else, not even a fireman or a curling star or something cool like that?" 

 "No. It honestly never occurred to me to be anything but what my father
and his father had been. Tradition is a powerful force, one we don't
always recognize. I suppose in my zeal to be of service, to prove to
myself that it was the right choice, I sometimes lose my way." 

 Ray sat up and leaned in, not sure he'd heard right. "Lose your way? I
don't get that. What's that mean, lose your way? You feel lost?" 

 Fraser lifted his head and met Ray's worried eyes. "Not often, but
sometimes, yes. I must confess that when I lose myself in service to
others, fight the battles for those who can't fight for themselves, then I
don't have to examine my own fears quite so closely." 

 "So that's what this whole thing was about, proving something to yourself
about being a good Mountie?" 

 "I suppose so, yes." 

 Ray considered the words and then shook his head. "That sucks, Fraser.
You could've just asked instead of getting your ass kicked." 

 "Oddly enough, Ray, such an option never crossed my mind." 

 "Yeah, I can see that. Still, I guess it's good you're catching on." Ray
paused and then asked, "So, are you okay now or are you still lost?" 

 Fraser rubbed his right eyebrow several times and then shrugged. "I know
where I stand, Ray, though I must say I'm not sure if this is where I want
to be." 

 The words stung like a son of a bitch, but he kept a straight face. Hurt,
Ray motioned to the door. "Take my car and I'll get it tomorrow. You don't
have to stay if you don't want to." 

 "That's not what I meant, Ray. I don't want to leave." 

 "Then what the fuck did you mean by that shit, that you're not sure if
this is where you want to be? What's that supposed to mean? How am I
supposed to take that?" 

 Fraser rubbed both eyes with one hand, his voice weary. "I'm not
explaining this very well." 

 "You're sure as hell not." 

 Fraser stood up and paced, something he rarely did. Gripping the sides of
the chair, Ray let Fraser work it out until he could say what he really
meant in a way that made sense. After a few moments, Fraser stopped and
stood at the end of the sofa, his eyes aimed at Ray. "You said once you
never wanted to be a police officer. What did you want to be instead?" 

 It wasn't what he expected, but Ray went with it. "I don't know.
Something, anything. A mechanic maybe. Who knows?" 

 "But once you decided to enter law enforcement, are you glad you remained
firm in your desire despite what it cost you in terms of your family?" 

 Uneasy with the question, Ray shifted in his seat. How did this get
turned around on him all of a sudden? "Why?" 

 "I'd like to know. Are you happy being a detective?" 

 Crossing his arms, Ray reluctantly nodded. "Yeah, I guess. I mean mostly
I am. Sometimes it sucks, but that's with any job. I like it when it works
out, when we bust a case wide open and we get some scumbag off the street.
Then it's the best, the sweetest ride on the planet. Then I could give a
shit if my dad didn't speak to me for eight fucking years or that it cost
me my marriage." 

 "You really think being a police officer is why your ex-wife left?" 

 "No, but it was part of it. She wanted me to be more than a cop. Being a
detective's not in the same league as a state's attorney. Might not be PC
to say so, but it's the truth. Stella got tired of being hooked up with
some middle class street cop. I guess she finally realized you can take
the Polack off the street, but you can't take the street out of the
Kowalski." 

 Fraser nodded as if he understood, but then pressed on with an even
harder question. "But overall, are you happy with where you are in terms
of choices, of how your life has turned out?" 

 Ray blinked a couple of times and then trained his practiced eye on his
partner. Right in front of him and he'd missed it, missed it like some
first year rookie. Fuck. "You regret becoming a Mountie." It wasn't a
question because Ray already knew the answer, knew what he'd hear. 

 "Not always, but, yes, sometimes I do." 

 "And that shakes you, shakes you right down to your core, right? Is that
what you mean about feeling lost sometimes?" 

 Fraser settled back down on the sofa, sitting forward, closer to Ray than
before. "It's disorienting when one's certainty is fractured, however
minutely, Ray. When I saw how Warfield flaunted and abused his power, how
he refused to honor the system, I suppose in a way I saw it as challenging
my right to be a defender of those laws he chose to ignore." 

 "Wow." 

 Fraser glanced over. "Wow?" 

 "Yeah, wow. That's why you were so pig-headed. You thought that if you
let him walk, you didn't have a right to be a Mountie anymore." 

 "I suppose stripped down to the essential points, that's correct." 

 "You know that's bullshit, right?" 

 Instead of being angry, Fraser pinched the bridge of his nose and shook
his head, still unsure. "How so?" 

 "How so? What if I lost it every time I couldn't put some mob guy away? I
wouldn't last five minutes on the streets. They'd have to cart me away and
I'd be bunking in with the loonies wearing my badge on a g-string. You
can't live your life like that, Fraser. It's too fucking hard. You've got
to give yourself a break or you'll crack up." 

 "I fear you might be right, Ray." 

 "I know I'm right, at least about this." Ray reached out and touched
Fraser's knee. "You know you're a good cop, Fraser. You've got to know
deep down, that's a fact." 

 "Thank you." 

 "And I think if your old man were still around, he'd be really proud of
how you turned out." 

 Fraser didn't react the way Ray expected, not even close. He snorted and
stood up again, walking the floor like somebody said a bad name about his
dead mama. "My father thinks I'm obsessive, single-minded, and arrogant." 

 "Well, yeah, you are." 

 "Ray--" 

 Holding up a hand to stall Fraser's protest, Ray explained, "But that's
what makes you so damn good in the first place. I mean, if I were a bad
guy, ain't no way I'd want you coming after me. Forget about it. I'd just
turn myself in and save myself the trouble. Beats the shit out of getting
chased across the Yukon for being a litterbug, right?" 

 "Now you're just being facetious." 

 "Fuck facetious, whatever the hell that means. I'm being dead serious
here. You're a good cop. I wouldn't say it if I didn't believe it." 

 Unconvinced, Fraser argued some more. "Still, I'm here in Chicago because
I couldn't let things rest." 

 Frowning, Ray got up and moved to stand beside Fraser, his hand settling
on his shoulder, tempted like hell to shake him hard enough to rattle his
brain. "Listen, you're here because you're better than most people wearing
the uniform. You brought down those fuckers who killed your dad and they
can't stand to look at you because nobody likes to be reminded of when
they fucked up. It's got nothing to do with you being a good cop. You're
the best, better than me." 

 Fraser met his concerned gaze and shook his head. "I'm not better than
you, Ray. I'm different. I'm all about logic and you go with your
instinct. That's why we make such a good team." 

 "Yeah, it is. That's my point. You kind of forgot that when you went
after Warfield on your own." 

 "Yes, I did. I'm sorry." 

 "Won't happen again?" 

 "I'll endeavor to make sure that it doesn't." 

 Ray patted Fraser on the shoulder and then squeezed his arm. "Okay, okay,
I can live with that. Now sit down." 

 Fraser settled on the sofa and this time Ray sat beside him. "So, are you
okay?" 

 "I'm fine, Ray." 

 "I mean, are you sore from where you were beat up?" 

 "It's not bad, a few cuts and bruises. As you say, it could've been a lot
worse." 

 Ray turned his head and noted the tight lines and shadows around Fraser's
eyes, the worn features. They both needed to rest, but Ray couldn't drop
it, not yet. No way was he near done yet. "You really think your dad
wouldn't be proud of you?" 

 "He'd never say it even if he were." 

 "Not big on compliments, huh?" 

 "No, not really." 

 "My dad's like that." 

 Fraser met his gaze and turned sideways, his arm on the back of the
couch. "I'm surprised you didn't have plans with your parents tonight or
at the very least tomorrow. I would think after their long absence, this
would be a year to celebrate your reunion." 

 Ray took a big, calming breath and then shrugged. "Yeah, you'd think so,
but they flew back to Arizona for a week instead." 

 "You never mentioned it." 

 "My brother Terry and his kids live there. They wanted to see their
grandkids." 

 "Ray...I'm sorry." 

 "Don't be." Ray stood up and took his coffee to the kitchen, pouring in
fresh to heat it up. He spoke from there, finding the distance made it
easier to say what he wanted to say. "That's another big flop in my life."


 "What's that?" 

 "Grandkids. I didn't give 'em any. Sure, they're finally over the whole
me being a cop thing, but grandkids, that's not something that'll change."


 Fraser came over to stand beside him, leaving little space between them.
"You would've made a wonderful father." 

 "You think so?" 

 "Indeed, I do." Fraser paused and then added, "You still could become a
father, Ray. You could find the right woman and--" 

 "And what? Make some babies so my mum and pop could have a blast come
December? So maybe I could compete with my brother? Forget it. That's not
why you're supposed to have kids, Fraser. That's just selfish. Besides, I
don't see that happening." 

 "You never know, Ray. There are a lot of women who find you attractive." 

 Ray closed his eyes briefly, his mind and heart both racing. It was now
or never, so he dived in. "What about you? Do you find me attractive?" 

 Fraser took an extra second to answer. "I believe I told you once before
that I did, very much so." 

 "But you didn't explain it. You didn't tell me what very much so meant." 

 "What did you want it to mean, Ray?" 

 Ray bit his lower lip and lifted his head. He turned and faced off.
"Before I say anything about that, tell me about Innusiq." 

 Fraser's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't move or look away.
"Innusiq?" 

 "Yeah, that kid who was supposed to be your best friend. Seems to me you
left out an important bit of information, Fraser, when you talked about
being boy scouts together and shit. You never mentioned that he became
more than a friend once you two grew up." 

 "No, Ray, I didn't." 

 Ray kept his eyes on Fraser, saw the struggle going on behind those blue
eyes. He prompted again, "Tell me about him, Fraser. Tell me about him and
you." 

 "It would seem you already know about Innusiq and me, Ray." 

 "I know and I don't know. I need to hear it from you when you don't think
you're talking to yourself." Ray moved a little bit closer, Fraser's
breath warm on his skin. "You can trust me." 

 "It's a long story." 

 "We've got however long it takes." 

 Nodding, Fraser swallowed hard, struggling with a difficult decision.
"Let's sit down, Ray. It's not an easy story." 

 "I get that." Ray reached down and took a risk, took Fraser's hand in his
own. "I promise to keep my mouth shut and just let you tell it, just let
you go at your own speed." 

 Fraser didn't pull away, just squeezed his hand and then moved into the
living room, dragging him to the sofa with him. Once there, they sat down
together and Fraser still held on, never let go as he told his story
slowly, the words laced with a kind of bitterness and rage Ray recognized
like his own when he talked about losing Stella. 

 "Innusiq and I grew up together in Inuvik. He was Inuit and I was the son
of a famous Mountie, a white man's legend." 

 "Jeez." 

 "Ray--" 

 "I know, I know. Shut up, Ray." 

 "No, you can comment if you like, but it would be easier if I could just
say it my own way." 

 "Okay." Ray watched as Fraser went away inside his own head, saw how hard
it was to summon up the memories and lay them out for him to see. Fighting
back the temptation to grab him up and hold him in his arms, Ray squeezed
Fraser's hand instead and simply waited. 

 After a few moments, Fraser began again, his voice still strained. "You
have to understand the context of the relationship, Ray. Mixed unions
weren't readily accepted by either culture, Inuit or Caucasian. Despite
the stigma to being gay, the fact that we were both men was actually
secondary as an obstacle to our relationship." 

 Ray kept the shock to himself. Suspecting something and hearing it
confirmed out loud were two different things. Fraser's admission opened up
a whole new territory for both of them. But neither of them could go
there, not yet, not until Fraser dumped some of his past into the light. 

 Fraser's voice lagged and he stood up, his face distressed. Ray pulled
him back down, held on tight, and wouldn't let him go. "Finish. Tell me
what happened." 

 "If you were listening in the car, you know what happened." 

 "I was wasted. It's all kind of fuzzy. Tell me again." 

 Nodding, Fraser reluctantly continued. "My father never knew me. He
thought he did, but he didn't. A father believes he knows his son, knows
what he needs, what he wants. It's a form of patriarchal arrogance. He
found out that I wanted Innusiq to accompany me to my first posting as my
partner. At the time, I assumed my wishes for where I wanted to serve
would be considered first. I'd asked to remain near Inuvik. That way,
Innusiq wouldn't be forced to leave his family, something very important
to him, to us." 

 "But Dad butted in?" 

 Fraser's eyes flashed. "Yes, yes, he did. He used his influence and had
me stationed thousands of kilometers away. There was no way Innusiq could
come with me officially at that time and he refused to leave his home."
Fraser shook his head and bit his lower lip. "I protested the posting, but
it was useless. It was either go or resign from the job." 

 "So you left?" 

 "Yes, I did. I chose being a Mountie over Innusiq." Clearing his throat,
Fraser shook his head. "By the time I came back on leave a year later,
Innusiq had married a local native girl. They already had a child." His
head dropped forward and his voice choked. "I was devastated." 

 "And pissed." 

 "Oh, yes, very. My father had no right." 

 "But you still loved him." 

 Fraser jerked his head up in surprise at the comment. It took several
long moments before he relaxed enough to nod. "Yes. I was angry, but I did
still love him. He was my father." 

 "And you need to forgive him now so you can move on." 

 "It's difficult." 

 "I know. I felt the same way about my dad, but wasn't that you talking
about forgiveness tonight at the squad? You said this day is all about
being able to forgive and I believe that." 

 Fraser relaxed a little, his expression more soft. "Yes, I did say that."


 "Seems to me you've got to put your money where your mouth is. You've got
to let this go. Your father's dead. Innusiq's probably happy as a clam,
eating whale blubber and rubbing noses with the missus." 

 "Ray--" 

 "And you. Your life turned out pretty good, right? Your life's not so
bad, is it?" 

 The point finally sinking in, Fraser grinned weakly. "No, Ray, it's not
so bad." 

 "And what about me?" 

 "You?" 

 "You love me as much as you did Innusiq?" 

 Fraser didn't look away, but his breath caught and his pupils dilated.
"Yes, Ray, I do, more so." 

 Leaning in closer, Ray asked, "Was that hard to say?" 

 "You have no idea." 

 "Why is that, Fraser? Why's it been so damn hard to tell me?" 

 Fraser lifted the clasped hands between them. "A better question might
be, why haven't you told me the same thing?" 

 Smirking, suddenly relieved, but still too tense to let go completely,
Ray shook his head. "You first. Give me just one good reason." 

 "Stella." 

 "Ouch." 

 "Indeed." 

 "Okay, okay, I'll give you that one. I wouldn't have told me, either.
I've been a jerk about that. Old habits." 

 Fraser squeezed his hand again to get his attention. "Your turn." 

 Taking a deep breath, Ray whispered the name of one of his biggest fears.
"Canada." 

 "Canada?" 

 "Yeah. What if you decided to take off, go back home, put on a pair of
snowshoes and never look back?" 

 Fraser didn't even hesitate. "I'd ask you to come with me." 

 "Yeah?" 

 "Most definitely." 

 Ray stared into those deep blue eyes and then leaned forward, his lips
just a breath from Fraser's. "I love you." 

 "I thought as much." 

 The smug tone, no matter how right or how happy set Ray in motion. Lips
muffled the brief protest that quickly became a moan of pleasure. Pulling
back, Ray cupped the side of Fraser's face. "Merry Christmas, partner." 

 "So it would seem." 

 Ray dived in again to prove his point and to see if he could teach the
Mountie about the whole naughty or nice thing.	

 Making out with a well-thumped Mountie on a narrow couch proved to be a
lot harder than Ray thought. After about ten minutes of smooching and
groping, Ray stopped when he touched the wrong spot on Fraser's belly and
got an ouch. "Okay. Enough. I need to see the damage." 

 "Ray, I assure you--" 

 "Show me." 

 Fraser pulled back, his face and neck already red from the burn of Ray's
whiskers against sensitive skin. "Show you?" 

 "Yeah, show me you're okay. Strip off and let me see what those assholes
did." 

 "It's just a few bruises." Fraser reached out and caressed Ray's cheek.
"However, I am rather tired." 

 "You want to go to bed?" 

 Fraser grinned at Ray's sudden enthusiasm. "To sleep, Ray." 

 "I meant to sleep." 

 "Of course you did." 

 Carefully, Ray pulled Fraser into his arms and kissed him gently, the
lips surprisingly soft and yielding. "You want to sleep, we'll sleep. When
I wake up, I can see what I got from Santa." 

 "Which is?" 

 "My very own Mountie to play with." Sadness flickered in Fraser's eyes.
"What?" 

 "I didn't get you anything, Ray. At the station I drew your name first,
but then Dewey wanted to exchange, and then I had Lt. Welsh. Then you had
Lt. Welsh and I had Francesca and--" 

 "It doesn't matter. I've got you and that's a hell of a lot better than
anything you can whittle out of a log. Sorry, but it is." 

 Fraser kissed him and agreed. "Thank you, Ray. I feel blessed as well." 

 Warm and cozy, Ray didn't want to move, so he hugged Fraser. "So, did you
like the picture?" 

 "Picture?" 

 "Yeah, the one of your family." 

 Fraser sat up and stared, realization dawning. "You're the one who got
the picture?" 

 "Who'd you think?" 

 "It didn't have a name on it." 

 Ray shrugged and ran a finger up along Fraser's cheek bone, wondering how
the hell eyes could get so damn blue. "Guess I wanted to do the secret
Santa thing. Plus, I didn't want to hurt anybody's feelings for giving a
present to somebody whose name I didn't draw." 

 "But how? Where did you get it?" 

 Frowning, Ray sat up and scratched his head. "You know, it's a funny
thing about that. I was sleeping and it just came to me, like something I
just had to do, like do it or bust. You've got no pictures in your office,
not a one, no shot of mom or dad, nothing. I just knew you needed
something solid." Ray cleared his throat, overwhelmed by the sudden force
of emotion for his partner. "I called up your dad's old partner, Buck
Frobisher." 

 "Buck had my family's picture?" 

 "Yeah, it was weird. Seems like he was just waiting for a call. Didn't
take but a few days to get here. I put it in a frame and a box and then
slipped it under the tree when Frannie wasn't looking. Sneaky Ray strikes
again." 

 Fraser shook his head, obviously stunned. "Ray, I don't know what to say
other than thank you." 

 "You're welcome. Wish there were more, but Buck said that was the only
picture he had of all you guys together. Seems like your dad wasn't much
for the camera." 

 "No, no, he wasn't." 

 "Still, it's nice to have a reminder, right?" 

 "Yes, Ray, it is." 

 Ray glanced at the clock, shocked that it was already two in the morning.
He kissed Fraser's cheek and whispered as he brought him close again.
"It's Christmas morning, Fraser. Let's get some shuteye and then get up
and do the day right." 

 "What are you suggesting?" 

 "I'm suggesting that we do some serious celebrating instead of moping
around and feeling blue." 

 "I wasn't blue, Ray." 

 "I was." 

 Fraser pulled back just enough to study his features. "I thought as much.
Ray, you should've said something." 

 "So should you. You can't tell me you weren't feeling the Christmas blues
yourself." 

 Fraser shrugged and then settled down against Ray, finally admitting the
truth. "No, I suppose I really can't deny that completely." 

 "And now?" 

 "Now I have you." 

 Ray rubbed his chin on top of Fraser's head and teased, "And a date with
a pillow. Let's go to bed." 

 "I should take Diefenbaker out first." 

 Ray glanced over at the snoring wolf. "He's down for the count. He'll be
fine for a few hours 'til daylight." 

 Nodding, Fraser stood up, pulling Ray to his feet before they walked into
the bedroom together. Fraser stopped moving when he saw the unmade bed and
the clothes scattered in piles all over the floor. "Ray--" 

 "Don't say it. I'll let your inner maid deal with it tomorrow. Right now,
I'm too tired to give a shit. The sheets are clean at least." 

 "How clean?" 

 "Cleaner than an open field in the Yukon. I mean, at least I don't have
any twigs or rampaging moose to worry about." 

 Fraser chuckled as he sat down on the edge of the bed and worked the
laces on his boots. "I see your point." 

 Ray finished undressing before Fraser got off his right boot. Wearing
only his briefs, Ray slid under the covers and watched, fascinated by the
slow, precise movements. Even busted up, Fraser had power and a
well-muscled body Ray only dreamed about. Now he had it for real, had
Fraser for real. What a swell Christmas. 

 After taking off both boots, Fraser stood and shrugged off his
suspenders. He slipped off his trousers and then raised his arms to remove
the Henley. As soon as he did, Ray sat up straight, the anger like a gun
blast to the gut. "Motherfuckers. Bastards. Jesus." 

 Fraser turned, startled by the curses. "It's not as bad as it looks,
Ray." 

 Ray shook his head and got up, walking on his knees across the mattress
to gently finger the long bruise along Fraser's back and up over both
shoulders. "I want to kill the son of a bitch. Prison's too good for the
shit." 

 Fraser's voice softened as he captured Ray's hand. "It's all right, Ray.
I've been beaten much worse than this before." 

 "Doesn't matter." Ray's forehead rested on Fraser's belly, his eyes
stinging. "I hate his ass." 

 "Understood." Fraser's hand petted Ray's hair before he leaned down and
kissed the top of his head. "Let's go to bed, Ray." 

 "Okay, okay." Backing off, suddenly too wound up to sleep, finding it
impossible to get the images of Fraser being beaten out of his head, Ray
waited for Fraser to climb in beside him. They lay down together, Fraser's
arms pulling him close, Ray's head resting on his chest. Ray's heartbeat
took its own sweet time to calm down. After a few minutes lying in the
dark under the blankets, the heat flowing off Fraser's skin, he finally
whispered his regret. "I should've been there." 

 "It was five against one, Ray. If you'd been there, you might have been
hurt as well." 

 "I still should've been there." 

 Fingers combed through Ray's hair tenderly as Fraser's breath warmed his
cheek. "Next time you will be."  

 Ray turned over and put his arm out across an empty space. His eyes flew
open. Where the fuck was Fraser? He sat up in a quick panic and ran a hand
through his wild hair, looking around, not seeing his partner anywhere. No
way this could've been a dream, no way in hell. 

 Throwing off the covers, Ray walked out to the living room and stopped
short. Four stockings hung in front of his turtle tank, one for himself,
one for Fraser, one for Dief, and one for Turtle. Branches of fresh green
garland draped the windows and the edge of the kitchen counter and an
undecorated pine tree stood in the corner by the stereo. No wonder the
place smelled funny, all fresh and woodsy and kind of like Fraser. A grin
replaced his scowl and he walked over to the kitchen, standing behind
Fraser to wrap his arms around his friend's waist. He kissed the side of
his neck. "Good morning. Where'd you find all the Christmas stuff?" 

 Turning, Fraser smiled broadly before kissing him properly, his mouth
incredibly soft, fringed with just the tell-tale hint of whisker. "Good
morning, Ray. Did you sleep well?" 

 "Good. You?" 

 "I slept very well, thank you." 

 His arms still around Fraser's middle, Ray asked, "You're not sore or
stiff or anything?" 

 "Nothing to be concerned about. What about you? Any headache?" 

 "You mean, do I have a hangover?" 

 "Quite frankly, yes." 

 Ray kissed Fraser again, just brushed his lips against his briefly before
pulling away to check out all the stuff on the stove and in the sink.
"Nope, slept it off. Look, Fraser, I didn't have shit in the refrigerator
and nothing's open on Christmas. Where'd you get all this food? 

 Fraser returned to putting the final touches on his pumpkin pie. "Luckily
enough, Ray, I called Mr. Thornsberry this morning and he allowed me the
honor of raiding his store." 

 "Mr. Thornsberry?" 

 "Yes. He runs the market down on the corner near the Consulate. He's also
the one who let me have one of the last of his trees. I explained we'd
been working on a case quite late and didn't have the opportunity to get
in the supplies for our traditional Christmas. He seemed more than happy
to oblige and for once I wasn't disinclined to accept his offer." 

 Ray dipped his finger in freshly made whipped cream and shivered, the
sweetness like a kiss from all those holidays of his childhood. "This is
great, Frase. I was figuring we'd probably eat leftover Chinese, but this
is a lot better." 

 "Indeed, it is, Ray." Fraser put the pie in the oven and turned. He eyed
Ray's half-naked body up and down with approval before he suggested,
"Perhaps you should get dressed, Ray, and we'll decorate the tree." 

 Ray returned the favor of checking out his partner. Fraser dressed in
jeans and flannel instead of his uniform, the man looked good enough to
eat, something Ray wanted more than breakfast or a round of tree trimming.
"Where'd you get the duds, Frase?" 

 "Duds, Ray?" 

 "The clothes." Naughty thoughts took over as Ray stepped in closer, his
body pushed right up next to Fraser who'd backed up against the counter. 

 "Ah, well, I confess I borrowed your car." 

 "My car?" 

 "Yes, I drove to the Consulate to get some supplies, hoping you'd be well
rested on my return." 

 His normal concern for his car got lost in the scent of a turned on
Mountie. Ray buried his face in the soft spot just above the collar of the
blue flannel, his tongue sneaking out for a taste, Fraser's skin salty and
delicious. He smiled as Fraser shuddered at just the flick of his tongue.
"Let's go to bed." 

 "And the tree, Ray?" 

 "Fuck the tree, Fraser." 

 Fraser's arms wrapped around him, his voice deep and husky. "That's
hardly a holiday image I wish to consider, Ray." 

 "Then get in the bedroom and I'll give you a better one." 

 Brief hesitation and then movement led them both to the other room
quickly. Once there, Fraser shoved him down on the mattress on top of the
blankets. Lying flat on his back, he watched as Fraser quickly took off
his clothes, first the shirt, then the regular boots and jeans. He removed
his underwear last, standing there in all his glory. Ray let out a low
whistle. Even with the bruises, Fraser looked perfect, creamy skin over
well-defined muscles. His uncut cock stood at attention already. Ray put
out his hand and whispered, "Come here." 

 Fraser kneeled on the bed and shifted closer, but didn't lie down.
Instead, he hooked his thumbs inside the elastic of Ray's briefs and
pulled them down. He tossed them on the floor and then dipped down to
first kiss Ray's navel and then his dick before stretching out over top of
him, the weight welcome. Ray wanted to talk, to say something, to let
Fraser know he loved him, but he didn't get a chance for any kind of sweet
romance. 

 Instead, Fraser covered his mouth, hard and possessive, taking his time
to steal away any reservation Ray might have mustered. Tongues played and
said hi, exploring, slowly at first and then with more daring. Ray
swallowed Fraser's moans and then shoved his hips up to be met with the
solid force of Fraser's erection. Thrusting, the need more urgent, Ray
drew his head back, his breath already ragged. "Fraser." 

 Too busy sucking on his neck to answer, Fraser raked his teeth across
Ray's chin as he slipped his hand down between them to surround Ray's
dick. The touch electric, Ray jerked and came without warning. His whole
body reacted at once, his release making his head swim in bright bursts of
color, his middle bathed in heat, his cock spurting nothing but good times
up his belly. 

 Groaning with pleasure, Ray wanted to scream but found Fraser gobbling
his tongue again and shoving hard and fast against his crotch. The spasm
hit and Ray could only reach out and grab hold of Fraser before he toppled
off both him and the bed. Fraser growled and buried his face against Ray's
chest, his body suddenly shaking in his arms. Several deep shudders later,
Fraser went slack, his whole body resting over Ray's, shivering in
silence. 

 His mind clearing, Ray stroked his hands up and down Fraser's sides
before finally resting them on his ass cheeks. He nipped the side of
Fraser's neck and chuckled, "You still alive in there, Fraser?" 

 The words came out breathy. "Dear Lord, Ray. I had no idea--" 

 "That we both needed to get laid for Christmas?" 

 Fraser lifted his head, the sweat making his flushed face even more
shiny. He kept his voice even and patient, or as even as he could
considering he'd just about blown his head off with coming. "I was going
to say, that I had no idea that it could be that intense so quickly." 

 "Been a long time, huh?" 

 "And it hasn't been for you?" 

 Ray smirked. "You couldn't tell?" Before Fraser worked up an answer, Ray
used a sudden power move to roll Fraser onto his back with a surprised
oof. He stretched out beside him and reached down to cover them both with
the covers. "And yeah, it has been." Ray rested his head on his raised
hand. He looked down into the face of heaven and wondered out loud. "Why
the hell did it take us so long to get here?" 

 Fraser teased his fingers through Ray's wiry, blond chest hair. "I think
we mentioned two reasons before, Stella and Canada." 

 "Oh, yeah, I remember." Ray closed his eyes and gently dropped his head
to rest on Fraser's chest. The sound of his lover's heartbeat soothed him,
made him happy. "I'm glad we finally made it, Fraser." The heart went just
a few beats faster and Ray lifted his head. "What?" 

 "I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I still had concerns about your
strong feelings for Stella." 

 Eyes narrowed, but the sudden flash of anger only lasted a few seconds,
just long enough to bring Ray's mouth a few inches from Fraser's.
"Stella's history, just like Innusiq and Victoria and whoever else you've
got stuffed in your backpack. Neither of us come without baggage, Fraser,
but you've got my word that I might still love Stella, but I'm not in love
with Stella. There's a difference, a big difference. I'm in love with you,
hook, line, and sinker. No throwing me back now. Got that?" 

 Fraser smiled and caressed the side of Ray's face, his eyes misted over,
but meeting Ray's intense gaze. "I believe so, yes." 

 "Good." Ray relaxed and leaned in, the kiss sending fine teases down
through his middle, sweet and tender. He couldn't remember life ever
feeling so right before, so just the way it should be. 

 Arms tightened around him. "Are you sleepy, Ray?" 

 "Yeah, a little." 

 "Then rest." 

 Ray opened his eyes and shook his head. "No way. We've got stuff to do." 

 Instead of arguing, Fraser just smiled. "All right, Ray. We'll trim the
tree and then I'll fix dinner." 

 "I can cook." 

 "Ray, let me do this." 

 "What this?" 

 "I've never had the opportunity to fix a truly traditional Christmas
meal. I'd like the first one to be for you." 

 "You mean us." 

 "Yes, us." 

 "Okay, okay, I can go with that on one condition." 

 Fraser turned his head on the pillow, his voice slightly wary. "What
condition?" 

 "I get to call you Ben." 

 "Ben is my name, Ray." 

 "Now you tell me." 

 Ben laughed and pulled Ray into a quick kiss before smacking him lightly
on the jaw. "I'm going to take a quick shower." 

 "Can I join you?" 

 "Only if you want the pie to burn and the turkey to stuff itself." 

 "Is this a test?" 

 Ben frowned. "A test?" 

 "Yeah, to see what I like better, you or the dinner?" 

 Chuckling, Ben sat up and scooted off the bed, his ass looking finer than
fine. The pumpkin pants didn't do it justice. Smugly, Ben turned and
crooked a finger. "I'll reset the timer." 

 Ray jumped off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. "I'll start the
water." 

 Ben's easy laughter gave Ray goose bumps all over.  

 Afraid she might get a whiff of his favorite new cologne, Ben Fraser,
Frannie's easy hug made Ray a little nervous. 

 "Oh, Ray, thanks for coming so fast. Ma's having conniptions. Ante
started moping around and wouldn't eat. I figured she was just feeling
neglected, you know, sort of lonely because we're so busy. With all the
cooking and stuff, I don't have time to keep her company. I appreciate you
bringing him over." 

 "Not a problem, Frannie, but I can't stay." Ray had lost the coin toss to
drive Dief over to hook up with Ante, who apparently had taken it in her
little poodle head to get depressed for the holidays. 

 As Dief ran past them into the house to cheer up his lady friend, Frannie
checked out the empty car. "Where's Fraser?" 

 "He's really busy." 

 "Too busy for Christmas?" Disappointed, she socked him in the arm. "I
can't believe that woman has him working on a holiday." Ray didn't talk
fast enough to tell her the truth, that Fraser was busy cooking Christmas
dinner and not filling out forms for the Ice Queen. "You should go back
and pick him up, bring him over. You know Ma. She cooks enough for a whole
army." 

 "An army called the Vecchio family." 

 Frannie paused and studied him, her dark brown eyes narrowed. "You look
different." Before Ray could come up with some explanation for looking so
damn smug instead of hung over, she continued, "You do something with the
hair, maybe a new gel or something?" 

 Ray shook his head and walked back to the driver's side of the car.
"Nope, same old, same old. Tell your Ma hi." 

 Frannie grabbed his arm and stepped in front him to block the car door.
"Not so fast, buster. You've got to come inside for at least a few
minutes. Ma wants to see ya. She'd kill me if I let you get away this
easy." 

 "Frannie, look, I left Fraser alone at my place. If I don't get back
quick, he'll reorganize all my CDs and I won't be able to find shit for
weeks." 

 "Your place? Fraser's at your place?" 

 Ray bit his lower lip. Oops. "Well, yeah. I couldn't let him just stay by
himself for Christmas. I mean, he carried my sorry ass home last night."
For good measure, trying to sound seriously pissed, he added, "Damn that
Dewey anyway." 

 Frannie took up the rant. "Tell me about it. My head's still pounding."
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head in disbelief. "I can't
believe I did the funky chicken with Huey." 

 Ray teased, "Sorry I missed that." 

 "Don't be. At least it wasn't as bad as Nancy from accounting." 

 "Why? What'd she do?" 

 "Tried to sing a duet with Mort while she took her clothes off." 

 "Jesus." 

 "Anyway, you're lucky Fraser stayed sober and could drive you home. Ma's
still pitching a fit about me having to call her to get me at two in the
morning. When I get my hands on Dewey, he's a dead man." 

 "I think the Lieutenant's got first dibs." 

 "Then I've got seconds. He's going to be eating through a straw by the
time I'm through with him." 

 Ray smiled as he imagined the damage Frannie could do when she put her
mind to it. Personally, he kind of owed the guy a favor. Without the
eggnog, he might never have had the heart-to-heart with Ben and then he'd
be feeling lousy, spending Christmas drunk and bitter. Yeah, he owed Dewey
big time. 

 "Ray?" 

 Ray looked up, his eyes suddenly misted. "What?" 

 She touched his arm, her voice softer. "You okay?" 

 "It's nothing, just the holidays." 

 "Yeah, I'm sorry." 

 "For what?" 

 "I heard about Stella. It's hard when the ex has to be such an asshole,
especially this time of year. I remember the first Christmas after my
divorce--" 

 Ray cut her off. "Look, I'm cool, really. I just need to get back.
Fraser's on his own and that's just asking for trouble." 

 "Okay, okay, I'll make an excuse to Ma. You go have a good time with
Fraser. You two have enough to eat?" 

 "We'll be fine, Frannie, better than fine. There's a hockey game on
later." 

 Frannie snorted and shook her head in good-humored exasperation. "Guys." 

 Ray leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Frannie." 

 Hand to her face, surprised as hell, she nodded with a smile. "Merry
Christmas, Ray. Tell Fraser he's welcome at our place if he gets tired of
watching dummies on ice beat each other with sticks during the season of
love and forgiveness." 

 Ray laughed out loud as he climbed back into the GTO. "Sure, Frannie,
I'll tell him." 

 As he drove off, he saw her waving goodbye in his rearview mirror.
Smiling, right with the world for a change, he gunned the engine, not
giving a shit if he got a ticket as he raced back to the man waiting at
home, the man who had changed his life forever.  

 "Well, Son, it looks cozy. Though that tree is rather unique to say the
least." 

 Fraser turned from putting the dressing in the serving dish and wiped his
hands on the dishtowel tucked into the waistband of his jeans. "I was
wondering when you'd show up." 

 "Just checking in, as it were." 

 Fraser Senior stepped closer to the tree, puzzling over the odd
assortment of decorations, the peppermint sugar canes, a wide variety of
hard candies, the foil wrapped cardboard stars, and real pine cones
collected from the nearby park during the last walk with Diefenbaker.
There were also small packages of M & Ms, packs of cinnamon gum, and all
of Ray's Christmas cards hung with twine. Garland consisted of long
strings of ribbon that Ray had stuck back in his closet for presents he'd
never gotten around to buying much less wrapping. Ray's gaudy pepper
lights wove their way through the branches. For the topper, they'd used a
Yukon white pine, hand-carved angel. Personally, Ben had never seen a tree
quite so beautiful in his whole life. 

 Fraser walked over to stand by his father. "Checking in, Dad?" 

 "I wanted to see if you took my advice for once and it appears that you
did." 

 "So you came here to gloat?" 

 His father turned, hurt. "Not at all. I just wanted to say Merry
Christmas, Son. I'm glad it's worked out." 

 Fraser's conditioned annoyance faded. "It appears so, yes." 

 "But you're not convinced?" 

 "It's early yet." Arms crossed, Fraser tugged at his ear, suddenly
nervous about talking to his dead father about his love life. "Ray and I,
well, we've both had some difficult experiences in this department." 

 "It's never easy when you've got two strong-willed people together. Your
mother and I struggled, well, that is to say, we had our differences.
Still, we loved one another and I've never regretted a single moment of
our union, save not being there when she passed." Eyes wide and sad, Bob
Fraser patted his shoulder. Fraser couldn't feel it, but he saw it clearly
enough and appreciated the gesture. 

 Only six when she died, the memories of his mother faded, Fraser had a
hard time even remembering her face. He stepped over to the counter and
picked up the framed image of the three of them, once again deeply touched
at seeing his family together. He turned and held up the frame. "Did you
do this?" 

 "What did the Yank say?" 

 "He said he woke up and felt an urgent, nearly obsessive urge to go
hunting for it. Did you have something to do with that, with him
contacting Buck to get it?" 

 His father cracked his neck and nodded absently. "It was an experiment. I
wasn't sure if he'd hear me." 

 "Apparently he did, and on more than one occasion. He heard us talking in
the car." 

 "He's less guarded when he sleeps." 

 The rush of anger hit him like a strong, familiar force. "I'll kindly ask
you to leave Ray out of this. It's bad enough you show up unannounced to
interfere with my life, to make pronouncements about my mistakes and
shortcomings. Please have the decency not to meddle in his life as well." 

 His father remained uncharacteristically quiet before he finally
responded. "Son...Benton, I didn't come here to argue." 

 The soft tone, surprisingly apologetic, caught Fraser off guard. He
swallowed back his longstanding hurt. "I'm sorry. I know you mean well.
It's just that sometimes I'm unsettled by your very existence." Fraser
stepped closer, asking the question closest to his heart. "Are you sure
you never see her?" 

 Fraser Senior shook his head in regret, not having to ask who Fraser
meant. "No. Believe me, I've looked around. I'd like nothing more than to
find your mother again and spend my eternity like I envisioned." Bob
Fraser met his son's eyes, the spirit's face suddenly haggard. "I always
thought I'd live my afterlife tucked away in a cabin somewhere high in the
mountains with your mother. As it is, I wander around, no map, no
directions, just go here and yonder, never really knowing for sure where
I'll end up next. It's not like I always have a choice, Son. I seem to be
stuck on this earth for a reason, though what that reason could possibly
be escapes me. I was hoping it might be to make your life easier. I'm
sorry you feel that's not the case." 

 Stunned by his father's admission, Fraser wished he could reach out and
take him in his arms, something he'd rarely done even awkwardly when the
man was living, something he could never do now that he was dead. "I'm
sorry, too, Dad. Though your method might need a bit of honing, I do
appreciate your concern for my welfare." 

 Bob raised a hand in dismissal. "Enough said. The Yank's on his way back.
I should be leaving." 

 "And go where?" 

 "Well, that's always the question, Son. Edward Whipplemeyer mentioned
something about singing in the choir over at the Wayside mission." 

 "Ghosts gather together for singing?" 

 "Sometimes, and the mission has quite a nice service." Fraser Senior
stood, his hands behind his back and stared at Fraser. "I wish I'd spent
more time with you and your mother, Benton. It just never occurred to me
that she'd leave this world before I did. Don't make the same mistake.
Cherish him while you can." 

 The somber words chilled him. "Do you know something about Ray's future
you're not telling me?" 

 His father sighed and spoke the words softly as he faded. "Nobody knows
the future, Son, not even the dead." 

 The door opened and Ray came barging in, smiling and carrying several
small packages. "Hey, Ben, buddy, you talking to yourself again? I thought
I heard voices." 

 Relieved to see Ray, but still unsettled by his father's ominous advice,
he motioned to the soft carols from the stereo. "It must have been the
music." 

 "Sure, sure, whatever." Ray shut the door with a kick and put all the
presents under the tree. "God, it smells great in here. I'm starving." 

 Ben stepped closer, wrapped his arms around Ray, and kissed him. Ray
responded, their tongues no longer strangers. Pulling back, Ben whispered,
"I missed you." 

 "Oh, yeah, me, too." Ray kissed him again and then gave him a quick
squeeze. "Before I forget, we are screening all calls for the rest of the
day." 

 Still standing with his arms around Ray, Ben asked, "And why's that,
Ray?" 

 "Because Ma Vecchio's liable to call and order us to dinner. I made
excuses, but you know how she is. She's afraid two eligible bachelors like
us might waste away if she's not here to stuff our faces." 

 "She does seem to believe single men to be rather helpless." 

 "Yeah. Anyway, I told Frannie we were watching hockey, so if she asks,
the Hawks won over the Leafs, 4 to zip. The Leafs suck." 

 Ben laughed and shook his head as he gave Ray a quick kiss before moving
to the kitchen to put the cranberry sauce out on the table. "I didn't even
know the Maple Leafs were playing today, Ray." 

 "They're not, but she doesn't know that." 

 "Are you suggesting that I lie to Francesca about an imaginary hockey
game?" 

 "It's either that or tell her the truth, that you're going to feed me and
take me to bed for the rest of the day." 

 Ben grinned and turned around, eyeing his shameless partner. "Is that
your plan, to sleep the day away?" 

 Ray chuckled as he inched his way over to the turtle tank to slip
something into Ben's stocking. "Nobody said nothing about sleeping." 

 Going with the game, Ben asked, "What did you put in there, Ray?" 

 Ray stood straight up, his hands behind his back, his lie not even close
to convincing. "Nothing." 

 Ben walked over to the tank and checked out what Ray had given him. He
smiled as he pulled out a rolled up magazine of crossword puzzles and a
pen with a reindeer on the end. Ben's lips thinned into a grin as he
examined the pen. "Thank you, Ray, but a reindeer?" 

 "Well, Eddy's Truck Stop didn't have any moose or caribou pens, so you're
stuck with Rudolph." 

 "A reindeer is fine, Ray." Shaking his head in amusement, Ben gave Ray a
quick kiss on his cheek and put his things under the tree. "Perhaps you
should check your stocking as well." 

 Like a little kid, Ray's eyes sparkled as he looked inside the red
stocking with his name on it to find a large bag of M&M original candies
that hadn't been there before he left. "Wow. Enough for the whole week.
Thanks." 

 "You're welcome. Now, go wash up. I'm about to serve dinner." 

 Ray put the candy back in his stocking and turned to leave, but then
stopped. Instead, he moved to embrace Ben and kissed him again, deeply and
passionately. When he finished, he pulled back with a smile. "You got any
idea how much I love you?" 

 "As much as I love you, I would imagine." 

 "And how much is that?" 

 "More than I can possibly say." 

 Ray studied him closely, as if soaking up the words, and then nodded.
"Yeah, same here." He ran the back of his hand up the side of Ben's face.
"All this holiday stuff, that's just gravy." 

 "Gravy, Ray?" 

 "Yeah, you know, the gravy on top, the extra, the bonus, the stuff that
adds a little more flavor. I guess what I'm trying to say in my own sucky
way is that this is all nice, but the real thing, the stuff that makes me
love you the most is the everyday stuff, the way you live your life and
make me a better person for letting me share it." 

 Ben's chest hurt with the pressure of loving this man, this man who said
so clearly what Ben himself was thinking. "On the contrary, Ray, you say
it beautifully. Thank you. I feel the same way." 

 "Yeah?" 

 "Oh, yes." Ben punctuated his desire with another kiss, holding Ray as
close as he could. Reluctantly, he pulled back. "Hurry, let's eat. I think
your idea of spending most of Christmas day in bed has grown even more
appealing." 

 Ray wobbled his head and grinned as he rubbed his hands together. "Oh,
yeah, won you over to my way of thinkin'. Works for me. Let me wash up
real quick and we'll chow down like nobody's business. I've got to tell
you, smelling all this great food is making me feel hungrier than Dief
when he gets that first whiff of pizza." 

 As soon as Ray went into the bathroom, Ben finished putting all the food
on the table, the turkey and sage dressing, the mashed potatoes, green
beans, baked apples, and fresh rolls. He had to admit that it smelled
delicious. Ray came back in and settled in a seat at the table. "Oh, man,
this looks great, just like my Nana Jean used to make." 

 Ben poured Ray some coffee and himself some tea before sitting down. "I
would've thought with you being Polish, you would've had a different
cuisine growing up, Ray." 

 Ray talked while he spooned out his potatoes and Ben carved the turkey.
"Well, yeah, if we went to my grandma on my dad's side, Nana Maria. That's
all cabbages and beets and dishes I never could get the hang of. Good
food, funny names. Anyway, my mum's side was all stuff like this, so it's
what I'm used to." 

 As soon as Ben put the meat on the plates, he sat down and stilled Ray's
hand as it reached for the green beans. "Ray, I'd like to say grace." 

 Ray's eyes widened, but he nodded. "Oh, yeah, okay." 

 "I know you're not an overly religious person and neither am I, but
somehow this year, I feel the need give thanks for my blessings." Ray
smiled in agreement, putting his hands together and bowing his head. Moved
by Ray's easy acceptance, Ben took a deep breath and spoke quietly. "I'm
not sure who's listening, but whatever spirit or power that watches over
us, I wish to thank you from the bottom of my heart for letting me be here
with Ray today, for letting me be part of his life for as long as he'll
have me. Amen." 

 Ray lifted his head, his eyes bright, his voice choked. "Amen." As Ben
touched his hand, Ray added, "I'm grateful, too. I never thought I'd get a
second chance and here I am happier than I've ever been. Me and a Mountie,
go figure." 

 "I must admit, Ray, it surprised me as well." 

 Ray laughed as he resumed piling his plate high. "I'll bet. Tell me
something, when did you know, I mean, really know that you had a thing for
me?" 

 "That's difficult to say, Ray. I mean, I felt an immediate attraction,
but the awareness of what that actually meant, that's hard to pinpoint." 

 Ray stuffed some turkey and dressing in his mouth and moaned. "Oh, my
god, this is good." 

 "I'm glad you like it." 

 "Bet it beats the hell out of arctic tern or whatever else you had
growing up, right?" 

 "It certainly does." 

 "And you're not off the hook. I'm still waiting. When did you know for
sure?" 

 Ben put his fork down, wiped his mouth, and made a show of thinking. "I
must confess I suspected early on that my feelings were more than
platonic." 

 "How early on?" 

 "I suppose almost from the beginning." Ben held up a hand to stall Ray's
interruption. "However, I knew for certain when you hit me." 

 Ray's face went pale. "What?" 

 "When you hit me and said you wanted to end the partnership. I knew then
that I didn't want to lose you. I realized without a doubt that I loved
you." 

 "So you're saying that you didn't know for sure until I socked you at the
docks that day?" 

 "Yes." 

 "Shit." Ray stood up and paced the living room, his hand running through
his hair. "I don't believe this." 

 Ben came over to Ray and stood in front of him so he couldn't walk away.
"Why are you so upset?" 

 Shaking his head in amazement, Ray snapped, "You don't get it. You don't
fucking get it." 

 "Get what?" 

 "I punched you because I was pissed. It was like the worst day of my
life, and that's when you realized you love me? What does that say about
you, about me, about how we relate?" 

 Ben reached out, but Ray stepped away, his arms stubbornly crossed
tightly across his chest. Ben took a deep breath and tried to explain.
"Ray, please understand. It wasn't the blow, but the threat of losing you
that jarred me to awareness. I'd been fighting my attraction for some
time, but I worked hard to deny its existence. After the argument, I
couldn't afford to ignore it any longer. I was so afraid of losing you, of
being trapped in my own inability to relate to my feelings, my ineptness
to communicate my need to you, that I was actually glad when we were
locked inside a sinking ship. I think that says a lot more about me than
it does you." 

 "You were glad we almost drowned?" 

 "Buddy breathing is not really a standard procedure, Ray." 

 "It's not?" 

 "No, not really." 

 Ray relaxed slightly, his lips thinning into a grin. "Yeah, I kind of
figured the tongue thing might not be part of it, either." 

 "So, as you can see, I'm not a masochist. It's just that in this
instance, it took some rather drastic measures to bring me to my senses." 

 Still resisting the explanation, Ray complained, "But that was like
months ago. You should've said something." 

 "True enough. I'm sorry." Ben paused and then motioned to the table. "We
should eat before it gets cold." 

 "Yeah, yeah, okay. That'll teach me to ask stupid questions." 

 "It wasn't a stupid question, Ray. I didn't phrase my answer very well." 

 "No, you sure as hell didn't." 

 Back at the table, they continued to eat. After a few minutes, Ray
stopped. "You know, I can't really say anything about you being a
blockhead when I was pretty dumb myself." 

 "Dumb about what, Ray?" 

 "About telling you about what I felt. I mean, I've known a lot longer
than you and never said anything." 

 Curious, Ben had to ask. "When did you know, Ray?" 

 "I knew for sure when you showed up in the crypt, you know when you broke
into my castle and hunted me down." 

 It was Ben's turn to be surprised. "But what about your actions when
Stella was dating Orsini? How can you say you loved me before that?" 

 "It's not easy 'fessing up to yourself about being in love with a guy
when you've been in love with the same woman your whole life. I figured if
I could get Stella back, I wouldn't have to deal with feeling what I was
feeling for you." Ray sighed and then he stabbed at his last bite of
turkey. "But not a chance. That whole thing with rescuing Stella only
sealed the deal. There was no way around it. You were it from then on, the
whole when, where, and why of my little 'it's officially a strange life'.
What I didn't know was what to do about the whole Canada thing, and the
guy thing, and the fact that you're a freak." 

 "And now you know?" 

 "Well, yeah. The Canada thing you answered when you said I could go with
you." Ray flushed slightly as he grinned. "And the guy thing, well, we
proved that's not a problem a couple of times already today." 

 "Indeed, we have." 

 "And the whole freak thing, well, the way I figure it, I'm a freak, too,
so it works out. I just wish we hadn't wasted so much time getting here." 

 Ben reached over and took Ray's hand and squeezed. "We're here now, Ray."


 "Yeah, we are. It's all good." Ray leaned over and sealed his words with
a kiss before he pulled back. "I'm all aboard for pie. What about you?" 

 Ben nodded and got up, his lips still tingling from Ray's kiss. He knew
for sure no earthly dessert would ever match its sweetness.  

 Dishes done, Ray plopped on the sofa, dragging Ben with him. "Present
time." 

 "I thought it was bedtime." 

 Ray laughed as he wrapped his arms around Ben, pulling him in for a quick
kiss. "It will be after I see what you sneaked under the tree." 

 "You're worse than Diefenbaker. No patience whatsoever." 

 Ray cocked his head and grinned. "Your point?" 

 Ben rolled his eyes, not bothering to answer, and got up, bringing the
three small packages over to the table. Ray did the same thing, retrieving
the ones labeled with Ben's name. All wound up with excitement, Ray nudged
Ben and handed him a small square box, obviously wrapped hastily with
white tissue paper. "Here. You first." 

 "Why thank you kindly, Ray." 

 "It's not much. I just wanted to get you something." 

 "You did, Ray. The picture, your love--" 

 "Yeah, yeah, I know. Now rip it open." 

 Ben grinned at Ray's endearing enthusiasm and followed orders. He opened
the package and laughed out loud, remembering their last poker game. "A
deck of cards, Ray?" 

 "Well, I know you don't gamble for money and I still owe you a ton of
air, but I thought I might get a chance to win some of that back if we
gave it another shot." 

 Ben put the cards down and leaned in, his face close enough to cross
Ray's eyes. "Actually, I was hoping to collect the balance due a little
later today." 

 Voice suddenly husky, Ray pursed his lips, enjoying that idea a lot.
"Yeah?" 

 "Yes, indeed." A hand hooked the back of Ray's neck, drawing him in as
Ben kissed him deeply, probing first with his tongue before drawing in a
very long breath. Ray moaned deep in his throat as his cock woke up and
paid real close attention. 

 Ray pulled back when his lungs ached from deprivation. "Jeez, I don't
think I can pay up all at once." 

 "I think installment payments might be arranged." 

 "Ya think?" 

 "Oh, yes." 

 "And you're keeping track?" 

 "Absolutely." 

 Ray snorted to himself, his face still flushed from the kiss. "Figures." 

 Ben protested in his most serious tone, but his eyes twinkled. "I expect
you to honor your debts, Ray." 

 "Oh, I plan, too. In fact, I was thinking of going double or nothing." 

 "I'll consider the offer. In the meantime, open this." Ben handed him a
flat, square package wrapped in plain brown paper with Ray's name neatly
written in Ben's tight script. 

 Ray held it up and shook it, hearing the slight metallic rattle. "What is
it?" 

 "Open it and see." 

 Ripping off the paper, Ray grinned really big when he saw the miniature
magnetic chess set. "Oh, wow, I've always wanted one of these." 

 "You did mention it once." 

 "Yeah, a hundred years ago when we were just sitting around shooting the
breeze." 

 "I believe you said something to the effect that it might take your mind
off how boring stake outs can be." 

 Ray met Fraser's gaze and shook his head. "How can you remember all that
stuff?" 

 "I remember everything you say, Ray." He said it so plainly, so
matter-of-fact, like it was no big deal at all. 

 "Everything?" 

 "Everything." 

 "Good stuff and bad stuff?" 

 "Everything, Ray. What you say is part of who and what you are. You're
important to me." 

 Ray's eyes stung at the power of those words. To hold off the rising
emotion, he joked, "God, you're sappy." 

 "Your point?" 

 "I got no point. Sappy's good. Sappy's greatness." He picked up another
present and handed it over. "Here, open this before I start bawling." 

 Frowning, Fraser took the gift. "I didn't mean to upset you, Ray." 

 "You didn't." Ray blinked hard and wiped the side of his face with the
back of his hand, pissed at himself for being so damn sentimental. Guys
weren't supposed to cry about being loved, weren't supposed to show how
much it meant that somebody bothered to listen much less remember whatever
came out of his mouth. Not for the first time Ray realized he apparently
wasn't like most guys. He forced himself to focus and motioned toward the
box. "Just shut up and open the present." 

 Fraser nodded, not commenting on Ray's reaction, but turning his
attention back to the present. "Right you are." He opened the gift and
smiled with appreciation. "A portable toolkit. Excellent choice, Ray." 

 "Well, I figure the next time we're on a sinking ship, it might come in
handy." 

 "Indeed. Suffice it to say, I'll keep it with me." 

 "Should fit on your belt." 

 "Thank you, Ray. It's very thoughtful." 

 "Thought you'd get a kick out of it." 

 Fraser handed Ray the next tiny bundle. "Here, Ray." 

 Ray opened it up and laughed out loud. "A GTO keyring. Where the hell did
you find one?" 

 "Mr. Thornsberry has a large collection of automobile related items. I
thought this might be useful to help you organize your keys." 

 "Neatness counts. I remember. Thanks." He stuffed the key ring in his
pocket and then reached over to get the smallest of the two remaining
packages. "Here." 

 When Fraser opened it, he met Ray's eyes. "Ray?" 

 "Yeah, I know it's probably too soon. I mean, we just started this thing,
but I want you to have it. No pressure. Use it whenever you want to. Me
Casa is your Casa." 

 Fraser grinned and tightened his grip on the apartment key. "I believe
that's 'Mi casa es su casa', Ray." 

 "Whatever. You know what I'm saying. My place is your place. You can live
here or not, stay overnight or not, it's up to you. Come and go as you
please, but I'd like you to come more than go, you know, and I'm not
making a joke about the coming part. I'm not talking about sex, Ben. I'm
talking about us being together, really together, the kind of together
that counts." 

 Ray saw the hesitation, the flicker of concern. He put his finger to
Ben's lips. "Don't say anything, not yet. You're a details kind of guy and
I'm all about the big picture, but we can work it out. We can do all the
details later. Right now all you need to know is that the offer's there if
you want it." 

 Capturing Ray's hand, Ben turned it sideways and kissed the open palm.
His usually steady voice shook as he whispered, "Thank you, Ray. I would
very much like to stay here." 

 "And we work out the details later, okay?" 

 "Understood." 

 Ray kissed him briefly before Ben pulled back. He handed him the last of
his packages. "I'd like you to have this. It's something I've thought
about giving you for a long time, but there was never really the right
moment before now." 

 Removing the paper, Ray held the pocketknife in his hand, stunned. He
swallowed hard at the initials GWF etched into the ivory handle. "This is
your grandfather's knife, the one he gave you when you were twelve." 

 "I'd like you to have it." 

 "But--" 

 "Please, Ray. It would mean a great deal to me to know that you carried
it with you." 

 "But why?" 

 "Because I love you, because it's one of the few precious things I own.
It's part of me and I want it to be part of you." 

 "Sort of symbolic?" 

 "In a manner of speaking, I suppose so." 

 Ray fingered the initials, imagining all the things a young Ben Fraser
might have done with that knife, sensing that symbolism in this case was a
good thing, a really good thing. He snagged another kiss before he managed
to say, "Thanks." 

 "You're welcome." 

 "It means a lot." 

 "Agreed." 

 Nodding, Ray put the knife in his pocket and reached for the last
package. He cleared his throat. "Now I feel kind of d.u.m., dumb." 

 "Why would you feel dumb, Ray?" 

 "Because this has got nothing to do with sentimental or symbolic, but it
does have to do with how I feel, so I guess that counts for something." 

 Ben took the gift from the outstretched hand and opened it. He shook his
head, his eyes suddenly sparkling with good humor. He held a tube of KY
Jelly and a dozen condoms. "Indeed, it counts for something, Ray. Proper
preparation prevents poor performance." 

 "I'm all over that." Suddenly more serious, Ray struggled with how he
wanted to say what he needed to say. "Look, I've never done this
particular thing and I figure you have, so I thought you could sort of
take the lead." 

 "Take the lead?" 

 "Yeah, you know, do me." 

 Ben's mouth opened and then closed before he uttered a word, obviously
caught completely off guard by the offer. He cleared his throat, but the
words still came out a bit husky. "Ray, I'm not sure that's a good idea at
this juncture." 

 "Not even if that's what I want?" 

 Taking Ray's hand, Ben studied him closely. "There are many ways to show
our love, Ray, ways other than anal intercourse. I'd like to be sure
you're truly ready before we take that step." 

 Ray squeezed Ben's hand, working hard not to sound needy. "Look, I won't
push it, but I figured we'd have the stuff just in case we want to do it
sometime. Doesn't mean we have to do it today, just whenever you think
it's okay. I mean, you've done it before, right?" 

 Reluctantly, Ben nodded. "Yes." 

 "And it's something I want to try." 

 "Why?" 

 "Why?" 

 "Yes, Ray, why? I don't want you to think that having sex with a man
requires you to do that particular act. In fact, many couples never engage
in penetration." 

 Frowning, trying to gather the clues, Ray narrowed his focus. "Are you
saying you didn't like doing it before?" 

 Sighing, Ben shrugged. "In my limited experience, it was not always
pleasurable, Ray." 

 "No, huh?" 

 "No." 

 "But it was sometimes?" 

 "I must confess that I did enjoy certain aspects." 

 "Like what?" 

 Ben wet his lower lip and then tugged at his ear with his free hand,
obviously uncomfortable with the frankness of their discussion. "I enjoyed
the preparation before the actual act." 

 "Assplay." 

 "I beg your pardon?" 

 "It's called assplay and you liked that part, right?" 

 "Yes, I did." 

 "But not the actual stick it in part." 

 Eyes a little wider, Ben flushed a bright pink at Ray's colorful
language. "Ray--" 

 Ray grinned and shook his head. "I always figured you'd be the one
pitching, not catching." 

 Ben didn't bother to act too innocent to interpret the metaphor. "Why
would you think that?" 

 "Mr. Super In Charge Mountie a bottom? Go figure. Of course, I guess they
call control freaks anal retentive for a reason, huh?" 

 "A little psychology is a dangerous thing, Ray." 

 "Ain't it just." Ray quit teasing when he saw the flash of hurt in his
lover's blue eyes. He squeezed Ben's hand and dropped his head to his
shoulder. "Sorry." 

 "It's all right, Ray, though you're incorrect about part of your
analysis." 

 "Which part?" 

 "The part about me only engaging in receptive behavior. To continue your
analogy, I do, in fact, enjoy being the pitcher, as it were." 

 "Yeah?" 

 "It's just that my previous partners weren't quite as, how should I put
this--" 

 "Flexible?" 

 "Quite right, Ray, flexible. Overall, I more often than not found myself
in the catcher's position almost exclusively and I found that to be
unsatisfactory." 

 Ray snuggled in close, his eyes twinkling, his heart revving up. "All the
more reason to try it with me. I like assplay, too, and I like the idea of
you doing me." To make sure he got his point across, Ray added, "I mean,
when I think about us doing it, that's what I think about, us doing it as
in you doing me." 

 Still cautious, still resistant, Ben continued to argue. "The idea of a
thing is often very different from the real thing, Ray. I don't want you
to be hurt or disappointed." 

 "Not going to happen." 

 "How can you be so sure?" 

 "Because I've got you in the driver's seat. I want to do this, but not if
you're not into it. I just want you to know that if you change your mind,
I'm ready, willing, and able to give it a shot." 

 Warming to the idea, Ben pursed his lips. "Well, you did once say you'd
try anything." 

 "And I meant it." Ray's arm slipped around Ben's middle for a hug as he
spoke quietly. "Let's just go to bed and see what happens, go with the
flow. If it feels good, do it." 

 "You trust me that implicitly, Ray?" 

 "I trust you with my life, Ben. Throw love in on top of that and you've
got a hell of a sexy mix." 

 "Indeed." 

 Ray stood up, pulling Ben with him. "Come on. Let's see if I can keep
from coming faster than a horny teenager this time." 

 "I'm not complaining, Ray." 

 Tugging at his hand, Ray led Ben to the bedroom, but not before he
snagged the KY and condoms from the table. When Ben hesitated briefly, but
then surrendered, Ray knew he was halfway to a home run already.  

 Lying in bed naked with Ben, Ray wanted to take his time, explore all
those places that made Ben happy. In his head, he had it all mapped out. 

 Ben, on the other hand, had a different plan of action. Like a man with a
mission, his mouth and hands took over Ray's body. His eager lips took a
wild ride up along Ray's belly before teasing his nipples and then sucking
on his neck. Ben's tongue hit all the right spots, conquering any
resistance. Hands stroked Ray's his inner thighs, fondled his balls,
played hide and seek with his crack. Ray couldn't speak, couldn't say
whoa, slow down, let's take it easy, nothing. By the time Ben reached his
cock, Ray threw in the towel, more than happy to let Ben do whatever the
hell he wanted. 

 Forcing Ray's legs apart, knees up, Ben kneeled between them, his eyes
dark and intense. Ben stroked Ray's erection with one hand and then dipped
down, his tongue licking the tip, teasing it before sucking it into his
mouth. 

 Ray threw his head back with a groan, the slick heat swallowing more than
his dick. Eyes squeezed shut, he trembled, the tight sensations swarming
all through his belly and up his spine. Ray's head spun and his heart
pounded. Air didn't come anywhere near his lungs for a hell of a long
time. Ray reached down, his fingers grabbing dark hair as Ben bobbed his
head up and down over his cock. Nothing prepared him for the force of the
coming, the full body punch that rocked him all over, head to toe, one big
blast of happy. He jerked like some kind of puppet, no control anywhere,
exploding lights blazing through his skull. 

 Ben kept at it, sucking out the rapid fire aftershocks that just kept
rippling all through Ray's belly. The surprise finger in his ass just made
it all that much harder to stop shouting Ben's name, praying Ben never
stopped doing whatever the hell he was doing with his tongue. 

 By the time his head cleared and Ray saw more than stars again, Ben lay
beside him, his nose nuzzled into Ray's armpit. Despite the tickle, Ray
didn't complain. Instead, he petted back the dark, sweat-slick hair and
wondered how the hell he could get so fucking lucky to be sleeping with a
Mountie with an oral fixation and enough extra lung capacity to make Ray
the happiest man on the whole damn planet. 

 "Have I ever mentioned how much I love the way you smell, Ray?" 

 "You like my smell?" 

 "It's very arousing." Ben nudged at Ray's pit and then lifted his head.
He licked up along Ray's neck and then with one strong hand and a surprise
move out of nowhere, he rolled Ray over on his belly. Ben whispered, his
voice like a velvet glove to Ray's spent dick. "Tell me to stop, and I
will, Ray." 

 Face down, Ben's heavy weight across his back, Ray shook his head. Just
the thought of Ben fucking him turned him on, made him shiver all over.
His cock twitched in a mighty effort to recover more quickly and get back
in action. Ray complained, "Just give me a minute to get hard again." 

 Ben purred into his ear and then nipped it. "I can give you that." 

 Ray swallowed hard, not sure how to deal with a super-charged, ready to
fuck and then some Mountie. "Go easy." 

 Growling deep in his throat, Ben once again used his mouth and tongue to
double team him. Legs forced apart, Ben kneeled on the mattress between
his spread thighs, Ray's ass an easy target. Stretching out over Ray,
Ben's erection poked at Ray's cheeks, not pushing in, just there, making a
new acquaintance. 

 Meanwhile, Ben cupped the back of Ray's head, licking his exposed neck,
biting a bit of skin, and then licking the sting ever so gently. Then he
slid his hands up and down Ray's back, taking his time, massaging the
muscles, alternating that with teasing bites and kisses. Slowly, but
surely, his mouth made it south, focusing on Ray's ass with a vengeance.
Pulling Ray's cheeks apart, Ben flicked his tongue in and then went to
town, shoving it in deeper, pushing his thumb in as well. Ray jumped and
writhed, a firestorm flashing all over his body, his cock nearly back in
business. Ben's day-old whiskers rubbing his rarely touched cheek skin
only made his ass sizzle that much better. Ray moaned and pleaded into the
pillow. "Have mercy." 

 Ben lifted his face from tongue-fucking Ray's ass. "You want me to stop?"


 "You do and I'll shoot you." 

 "Understood." Ben set about working Ray open, using his tongue, thumb,
and then his finger to relax the tight, round muscle. 

 Shoving his ass back, Ray got pushy. "Wait much longer and it's two to
nothing, Ray's favor." 

 Ben laughed against Ray's ass, sending tiny sparks of pleasure up Ray's
spine as he took the hint and got busy. Still using one hand to work Ray's
hole, Ben got the KY Jelly and opened the tube. He slicked his fingers
before sliding them in deeper. Ray groaned louder, not sure if he could
hold out much longer. Ray pleaded again, the words muffled but clear
enough. "Pitter patter, oh, fuck." 

 Opening the wrapper, Ben slipped on the condom. He raised up and helped
Ray to lift to his knees, too. Using one hand on Ray's hip to steady him,
Ben used the other to guide his cock to the target. Ray grunted as the
pressure against the opening increased, not sure if he could handle it,
not sure if it would fit. Ben was bigger than he was, a lot thicker. But
Ray stopped thinking, stopped worrying, and wallowed in the sensation of
having Ben bury his cock in deeper with every thrust. Ben's voice directed
him, tried to make it easier. "Take deep breaths, Ray. Slow and easy works
best." 

 Ray couldn't answer, air too precious, his brain swimming in color that
just got wider and brighter. Ben's hand snaked around and wrapped his cock
with heat that mirrored the pressure inside his ass. Over and over,
sensations doubled. He was being fucked and stroked like nobody's
business, like nothing he'd ever felt before. Thrusts inside joined up
with the finest dick loving this side of Canada. Ray tried to hold out,
but couldn't, couldn't stop the overwhelming head buster that shattered
his skull out of nowhere. His cock exploded with coming, his whole body
one big spasm. He bucked, but Ben bucked harder, not quite there, but
getting there fast, faster, the actual release like a body blow that
pummeled Ray into the mattress and then pounded him just a few more times
for good measure. Winning a full fifteen rounds with the world heavyweight
champion didn't compare to being fucked hard by Ben Fraser. 

 Pinned down, struggling to catch his breath, Ray didn't complain as Ben
took his time to get his own wind back. It took several minutes before Ben
finally withdrew. Rolling over on his back, Ben threw the used condom away
and then turned his attention back to Ray. He scooted in close, his face
right next to Ray's, his hand resting on Ray's backside. "Are you all
right?" 

 Taking two deep breaths, Ray turned on his side, his muscles all kind of
lazy, his brain still fuzzy and caught up in the good feelings of being
well-laid. He managed to reach out and caress Ben's cheek. "A Mountie a
day--" 

 Reassured by Ray's humor, Ben closed his eyes, his voice sleepy. "I
wasn't sure if you'd like it." 

 "Oh, I liked it. Put your tongue in my ass and I'll follow you anywhere."


 Eyes still shut, Ben teased, "Even to Canada?" 

 Ray didn't speak right away, just waited for Ben to finally open his
eyes. When he did, Ray moved closer and whispered, "You pick the snow bank
and I'm there." 

 "Ray--" 

 Ray's finger to Ben's lips cut off the rest of the sentence. "I mean it.
You said you remember everything I say, so remember this. When you're
ready to go back, when you can't take another lousy minute here in the
States, just say the word and I'll pack my snowshoes, or mukluks, or
whatever the hell I need to." Ray's hand cupped the side of Ben's face as
he thumbed his lower lip. "Your home is my home, Ben. Canada, Timbuktu, it
doesn't much matter as long as we're together." 

 Ben lowered his head and rubbed his face back and forth against Ray's
chest, his unexpected tears mixing with the cooling sweat. "Why would you
do that, leave your home, your job, everything you know just to be with
me?" 

 Suddenly pissed, Ray thumped the top of Ben's head with a solid pop of
his forefinger and then waited to get a good look at those crazy blue
eyes. Bewildered, Ben rubbed the sore spot. "Ray--" 

 "Ask me something stupid like that again and I'll do it harder." Ben
didn't say anything, just stared, still not sure, still not getting the
full picture. Ray decided to make it clearer. "You think I'd do what we
just did with anybody? You think this is just some fling, some holiday
roll in the hay?" Ben opened his mouth to speak, but didn't get the
chance. Ray answered his own questions as he held up his right index
finger. "I've only made love with one other person, Ben. We're talking a
single digit love life until you. It's got nothing to do with Christmas or
drinking too much eggnog. It's got everything to do with being your
partner and you being somebody who loves me for me, for me, Ben, not the
person who you think I can be or who you want me to be, but just who I am.
You've got no idea how that turns my crank, how that makes it easy to say
that I could give a shit about where we end up." Ben never took his eyes
off Ray, but remained quiet. Finally, Ray prompted, "Well?" 

 Ben swallowed hard before he spoke, his eyes wide and his voice still a
little raw and husky. "I feel the same way about you, Ray. Your tolerance
of me has always been the greatest gift of our friendship." 

 "Takes a freak to know one." 

 "Aptly said." 

 "Just don't make me say it again." 

 "Understood." 

 "Good, because I've got better things to do with your mouth than putting
a sock in it." 

 Ben didn't get a chance to ask for clarification before Ray proved his
point quite nicely.  

 Much later that night, deep kisses and tender caresses helped Ray
understand the true meaning of Christmas, something he'd missed with his
parents, with Stella, with every story he'd ever read. Even the movies got
it all wrong. 

 Giving love makes the soul stronger. Receiving love opens the door to
heaven. Lying in Ben's arms, Ray knew paradise to be more than he ever
imagined. 

 Still, odd phrases lingered in his head, little echoes not quite faded
away, words urging him to be true, to be honest, to stop stalling when it
came to Ben. 

 "Make a leap of faith." 

 "Trust your instincts." 

 "Don't let him push you away." 

 "A pig-headed Yank ends up cold and lonely and picking his teeth up out
of the snow." 

 Closing his eyes, in the true spirit of Christmas, Ray whispered, "Thank
you kindly," to the pushy voice no longer haunting his dreams. 

 ********The End 

End Christmas Spirit by Grey: Grey853@aol.com

Author and story notes above.