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      	  A Question of Faith 
 by Littera Abactor  

 Author's Notes: This was originally written for the "Anywhere But Here"
challenge on the LiveJournal community ds_flashfiction.

 

 Fraser took a deep breath as Ray came into the room. If he'd thought Ray
prickly in Chicago, it was proof that those who haven't seen snow complain
about rain. Now he knew just how touchy Ray could be. But he'd put it off
as long as he could. His faith in his partner could only take him so far.
The time for logic had come. 

 "Ray," he said gently. "We have to talk."

 Diefenbaker snorted and ostentatiously walked out. He'd made it clear he
wanted no part of this conversation. He hadn't even let Fraser practice it
on him, and there was no one else Fraser could even consider practicing it
with. He felt horribly under-rehearsed. It was a feeling he was getting
used to. 

 "Fraser, I just spent all day building a freaking boat. Out of wood. I am
not in the mood for talking."

 "Yes. Yes, I see that. But, Ray, we're running out of time." Fraser kept
his voice level. It would be good if one of them could stay calm and
reasonable, and judging by the mulish expression on his face, Ray wasn't
going to be that one. "You have to see that I can't go with you."

 Ray's eyes went from squinty and suspicious to round and horrified. It
was worse than Fraser had thought; clearly Ray had never even considered
this problem. Fraser wondered if he was the only one who'd bothered to
think about the future at all. Assuming there was going to be one.

 "Fraser, you have to come. He said 'bring your partner.' And I may be
crazy, at this point I think I probably am crazy, but I'm not crazy enough
to go against that."

 "I don't think you're crazy, Ray. It's just - well, you must see that I'm
not exactly a suitable choice. Perhaps he meant Stella?"

 "If he had meant Stella, he would've said 'Bring your ex-wife.' And I
would've said, 'No fucking way. Because she wouldn't follow me anywhere,
not even somewhere she was already going. Not unless I had a gun to her
head. So it's either get her or do everything else, so pick.' Anyway,
she's a thousand miles away from here, and I couldn't spend a week around
her without us killing each other. You think he doesn't know that?"

 Fraser knew he was walking on thin ice, here; he was, at this point, the
only person who still listened to Ray at all, and he was probably also the
only person Ray listened to. Ray had become remarkably sensitive to any
suggestion of doubt. Really, Fraser had only gotten this far because he
didn't have any doubt. Which was why he had to convince Ray; this was too
important to take chances. "Well, it's possible he forgot, don't you
think? He's got, ah, a lot on his mind."

 "It's bad enough I'm taking instructions from God, Fraser. I don't want
to think even for a second about taking instructions from a senile God.
Jesus Christ." Ray winced and made a vaguely apologetic face over his
shoulder. "I mean, fuck. Fuck that."

 Fraser sighed. He really was going to have to spell all this out. "Ray,
we're loading the boat with two of every animal so that we can repopulate
the Earth when the flood is over."

 "And?" Ray had his arms crossed now, and he looked dangerous.

 "I can't help you do that. There won't be any human beings ever again
unless you find someone else to take."

 "Meaning you won't go?"

 "Ray, you followed me into burning buildings and through plate glass
windows and up to the Arctic Circle. I would gladly follow you onto your
boat. But I don't qualify, Ray. I'm not suitable."

 "Fraser, if you aren't suitable, I'm sure as hell not. Anyway, I'm going
to need you after the flood. I might be able to build a boat - hell, it's
not any harder than putting in a new transmission - but you're the only
person I can think of who could rebuild everything else. And we gotta
build it right this time, because I think there's a limit to how often
he's going to wipe things clean to start over."

 "We won't be able to start over, Ray. Not with just you and me."

 Ray narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, right into Fraser's personal
space, right into his face. Fraser had seen this often in Chicago; it was
the 'bad cop' routine. Fraser considered it somewhat unfair that he didn't
get a good cop to go along with the bad one, although he supposed Ray
might qualify as the best person on Earth right now. From one point of
view, at least - maybe the only point of view that mattered, actually.
"Look. I listened to him, okay? He said, make a boat. Put the animals I
send you on it. And take your partner and get into it and wait for the
rain. You. Are. My. Partner. And you're the only one who would even get on
a boat with me now. 

 "So I'm building the boat. I'm rounding up the animals. And then you and
me and Dief are getting on board. You've got to trust me on this, Frase."

 "Ray," Fraser said grimly, "there is a fundamental flaw in your logic. A
flaw that could lead to the extinction of the human race. I can't let you
do this."

 "You can't stop me. I'll knock you out and drag you on board if I have
to."

 "There won't be any people left! Ever! You need a woman on that boat,
Ray. You do."

 "Fraser." Ray's face went from stubborn to smiling in a flash, and Fraser
felt his breath catch. That was the smile that had brought them to Mount
Ararat, and before that to Inuvik, and before that to Ray's bed, together.
And that was the smile that had persuaded him that, yes, God would choose
this man of all men to carry out his will, because when Ray smiled like
that, he looked like an angel. "Don't make me say it. You don't want me to
say it."

 Fraser smiled back. He couldn't help it. "Say what, Ray?"

 "Fraser," Ray said, and he was grinning now, absolutely grinning, "Trust
in God. God will provide."

 Fraser considered this. For him, it wasn't so much trust in God as trust
in Ray. Trust in his partner - faith in his partner - had brought them
from the lake they call Michigan all the way to the mountain they call
Ararat. Every step of that trip had been right. Faith could take him a
little further, surely.

 "All right, Ray. Understood." 

 "So, we good?" 

 Fraser surrendered entirely. "Apparently, there's none better." 

 "Yeah. I was pretty shocked, too." Ray kissed him, lingeringly, lovingly,
wrapping his arms around his waist and sliding his hands down over his
ass, kissed him until he couldn't remember what day it was. And then he
pulled back. "And I'm going to take a shower, 'cause I smell like that
boat's going to on the 38th day." He sauntered out, pausing in the doorway
to do a little shuffle and turn.

 Fraser sat back on the couch, thinking about the future, wondering
exactly how God would provide a new human race starting with just two men.
Well, God was all-powerful. Surely he could find some way - Fraser, struck
by an idea, felt his jaw go slack. 

 He could see the shape of the future, now. Or rather, the shape of his
future. 

 He put his head on his hands and moaned. Suddenly, trusting in God
sounded fairly dangerous. "A partnership is like a marriage," he
whispered. "And I'm Ray's partner. Oh, God help me." He'd never prayed so
sincerely in his life. "I'm too old to become a mother."  
  

End A Question of Faith by Littera Abactor 

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