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      	  Truly, Madly, Deeply 
 by Ximeria  

 Disclaimer: None of these guys are mine. You think I'd be doing this if
they were?

 Author's Notes: Thanks to the Heartsisters, to Nicci and Brynn for the
beta and encouragement. Especially for Nicci for dragging me up when Ray
got me too depressed.

 Story Notes: Don't ask me where the story came from. I don't know, and I
don't want to either *g* 
Note on supportive cast -- This is not your ordinary Jack and Daniel
(Stargate), but an AU version that I created more than two years ago. I
was torn between using original characters or these two, but the muses are
pushy and move in a mysterious ways *g* -- do you have to read the AU? No.
That's not necessary. If you want to, it's called protected and can be
found here: 
http://www.ximeria.popullus.net/fanfic/sg-protected.htm 
Unlike this story, there's more sex in Protected than you can shake a
stick at ^_~

 

 The heady experience of being pinned down, possessed, nearly drove him
out of his mind. The growl in his ear and the thrusts into his body,
pushed him to the edge and the complete white-out of his climax painted
the world colorless.

 Ray woke up with a gasp. Blinking myopically at the bedside clock, he
sighed and fell back on the bed. 6AM... Rubbing his eyes, he decided it
was way to fucking early to get out of bed.

 Job interview. The thought hit him. Oh, how he'd prefer to simply stay
where he was with the blankets pulled over his head. Unfortunately he
couldn't. He owed Welsh to give this a go.

 'You're ripe for the nut house,' Ray told himself. 'You should see this
as a chance to make a fresh start.' He needed it, needed the leg up from
the downward spiral he'd gotten himself caught in. To think he'd had it
all. Friends, a fabulous partner... a job he could finally admit to enjoy.
Then, through one stupid case, it had all gone to hell.

 "I can't even hate you," Ray said to the ghosts of memories in the room.
The loss hit him again and Ray knew he might as well get up and go the
gym. If he stayed in his bed, he'd just be trapped by his depressing
thoughts.

  "I've got this friend..." Welsh said, giving Ray a speculative look.

 "Yeah?" Ray said, trying not to sound as dead on his feet as he was.

 "Yeah, old friend of the family. He's looking for a good, hardworking guy
with his head on right."

 "Oh? Lieu... I don't..." Ray shook his head. He didn't want anyone trying
to steer him right. It wasn't worth it.

 "Hey, talk to the man. He's got a company specializing in security. He's
a good guy." 

 As he showered after three hours in the gym, Ray went over what he'd need
to remember for the interview. Stick to the truth, don't oversell yourself
and don't do the opposite either. Welsh had said that the guy was
ex-military and sharp.

 'Get a grip, Kowalski.' He needed this, needed something apart from his
fucked up life to concentrate on. Well, what was left of it anyway. No
partner, no job to speak of, and the return of his ex-wife and her new
husband... no, coupled with his parents returning to Arizona, Ray really
didn't like the air in Chicago too much at the moment. Anything would be
better than sitting around feeling sorry for himself.

 

 "Kowalski?"

 Ray looked up to find a tall man staring intently at him. The guy was at
least six feet tall and fairly well-built under those casual threads.
Dark-grey slacks, a white t-shirt and a dark-grey suit jacket. Not a bad
look for him. The graying hair said something about his age, but the shine
to the brown eyes and the quirky smile to the thin lips did a lot to
counter those years.

 "Yeah?" Ray stood up from the chair he'd been sitting on for the past ten
minutes, waiting for his interview.

 "O'Neill," the guy said, holding out a hand for a quick handshake. Firm
handshake -- perfectly balanced between 'I'm an alpha' and 'I'm not a
threat to you'. "You have lunch yet?"

 Ray blinked a couple of times, but his stomach was faster than he was,
growling at the idea of food. He hadn't been feeling like eating earlier,
so the only thing he'd downed, was a couple of cups of coffee.

 O'Neill laughed warmly. "I guess that says it all. There's a little diner
around the corner. You game?"

 Ray rubbed a hand over his hair, trying to catch up. "I, eh... sure."

 "Great, I just got here from the airport and haven't eaten since this
morning." O'Neill gestured toward the door out. "Daniel would kill me if
he found out," O'Neill muttered as he herded Ray out the door.

 Ray frowned but figured he might as well go with the flow.

 Before he knew it, he was seated across the table from the man who might,
or might not, be his future employer. Ray wasn't sure what to think, but
he kind of liked the guy's straight-forward attitude.

 "So, Welsh tell you what I'm looking for?" O'Neill asked after he'd
ordered steak and baked potatoes.

 Ray had ordered a sandwich. He was way too wired to eat a full meal.
Shaking his head, he sat back on the chair. "Nope, the Lieutenant just
said you had a security company."

 O'Neill nodded. "Yeah, I originally ran it from the office we just left,
but a couple of years ago I ended up with an SO, so now I live in New York
and run a second office from there. We mostly do security work, body
guards, security consulting for both companies and private clients."

 "I'm still not sure I know what you want with me," Ray admitted.

 O'Neill grinned and waved his hand back and forth. "I mostly hire people
with either law-enforcement backgrounds, or military. I've rarely hired
anyone without either knowing them or knowing someone who did. I hear
you're a good cop, good intuition, if a little on the wild side." The last
was added with an amused lift of a scarred eyebrow.

 Ray shrugged. "That's a nice way of putting it," he muttered.

 "You're not suicidal, are you?" O'Neill asked frankly.

 Ray pursed his lips. "No." 'Not yet,' he added in thought.

 "You know your way around a gun, you know how to work a case. I need
that. We've been having the occasional request for finding 'lost' people,
more detective work than actual security. I don't want to say no to
clients with problems. But most of my employees are ex-soldiers of some
kind, and although they're all intelligent people, we need something
extra."

 Ray nodded slowly. "Welsh tell you I'm a basket case?" he asked, a little
shocked that it had slipped out.

 Smiling, O'Neill cocked his head to the side. "He said a great many
things about you, Kowalski."

 "He tell you I went North, came home, screwed up my life and that he's
had to drag me out of a few stupid situations since then?" Ray wondered
why the fuck he felt like being this honest at the moment.

 O'Neill eyed him silently for a long time, didn't even break eye contact
when the waitress put their plates in front of them. The silence felt
oppressive to Ray, who tried not to fidget.

 "You're blunt," O'Neill finally said, his expression unreadable. "Welsh
said you had a case blow up in your face, you had a 'difference of
opinion' with your partner and from there, he's been worried about you."

 "Like I said," Ray snorted, eyeing his sandwich with doubt. Suddenly he
wasn't all that hungry. "I'm a basket case."

 "Well, I must admit I've already got someone in mind for the job here in
Chicago," O'Neill admitted softly.

 Ray nodded. Wasn't as if he'd stood any kind of chance the moment his
sudden burst of honesty had run him over.

 "How does New York sound to you, Kowalski?"

 Ray blinked rapidly, finally looking up at the man again, wondering what
the hell he was talking about.

 "You got a problem breaking camp and moving to the Big Apple?" O'Neill's
smile was back, at least in his eyes.

 Swallowing hard, Ray shrugged. "I haven't got anything left to keep me in
Chicago," he admitted.

 "Need a nice, clean start?"

 "Why are you doing this?" Ray finally asked.

 "Because if you're as good as Welsh says ye are, I think I'm willing to
take a little risk." O'Neill said. "I need someone like you who can
communicate with the local law, so that we won't step on some precinct's
toes. I get the feeling you'd rather not do that here in Chicago...?"

 Ray shrugged. "Most don't know me anyway, to the rest..."

 "You've got a reputation," O'Neill said with a soft smile. "Besides, I
hear you're good with a gun."

 Ray snorted. "Only when I'm wearing my glasses," he admitted.

 "You're gonna have to wear 'em full time," O'Neill warned. "Or get
contacts. I want my people tip-top."

 "Can't wear contacts," Ray said, wondering what kind of surreal talk this
was. It was a damned roller-coaster ride.

 O'Neill merely nodded. "Get a new prescription to be on the safe side,
when we get to New York."

 Ray held up his hands, trying to stop the steam-roller across the table.
"Whoa... Are you hiring me?"

 "Yeah. Isn't that obvious?" O'Neill's grin turned downright teasing then
sobered a little. "That is, if you think you're up to it?"

 "I...," Ray cleared his throat. "I don't know what to say," he admitted
sheepishly. Nothing he'd thought about before the interview seemed
relevant. Leave Chicago? No problem, though... "Well, there is the fact
that I'll have to find somewhere to live in New York," he admitted.

 "Finish up whatever you need to here. The building we use for offices has
quite a few apartments that are leased mainly to employees," O'Neill told
him.

 "Is this for real?" Ray asked, shaking his head. This was unbelievable.
He kept expecting for the other shoe to drop.

 "Well, there is one last thing," O'Neill said, finishing off his steak.
"How do you feel about gays?"

 "Wha'?" What the hell was he supposed to say to that? 'No problem, sir.
I'd be a bigot to condemn gays, considering...'

 "Just tell me the first thought that comes to mind," O'Neill said
intently.

 "I don't have any problems with homosexuals," Ray said, keeping his voice
steady. Keeping the memories locked down, the flashes of memories at
least. A jumble of tattered images, sounds, tastes...

 "Good..."

 "Mind if I ask why you would ask me such a question?"

 O'Neill grinned widely. "Because your future boss is one and you being
from a society that isn't exactly known for embracing this 'different
lifestyle', I had to ask."

 Ray shook his head, feeling a little confused. Well, it explained the
comment about the SO and probably the one about 'Daniel' as well. "No...
no problem," he said softly.

 O'Neill eyed him speculatively, then nodded. "Good, now eat your sandwich
-- you can't function on coffee alone."

 Ray smiled softly. "I know... you're not the first one to point that
out."

 "Eat up, kid," O'Neill said as he pushed his plate aside. "I've got some
errands to do while I'm in Chicago. I want you to think about my offer,
then call me." A business card was pushed across the table. "I meant what
I said, I could use a man like you in the fold."

 Ray nodded, although, deep down, he already knew his answer.

 O'Neill nodded and stood, for a moment resting a warm hand on Ray's
shoulder. A light squeeze and he let go, pulling out some bills from his
pocket, laying them down on the table.

 Ray sat back, alone, in the diner, staring at his sandwich. He'd just
been offered a job, a ticket out of Chicago, away from faces and places
that did nothing but remind him of how royally he'd screwed up.

 Either this was a miracle, or eventually something else would happen to
blow down his house of cards, because someone up there had a horrible
sense of humor.

 A way out... Ray looked at the sandwich again, feeling his stomach
finally settle enough for him to eat. He'd take it, he had a feeling... a
hunch... that this was exactly what he needed.

 

 Ray sat down on his bed, looking around the room. He'd brought very
little with him from his old haunt. A few knick-knacks, a desk. The
chili-string light. Ray ran a hand over the quilt covering his bed... his
new bed. Maybe this would keep away the dreams. Too many memories were
attached to the old one. His hand brushed against the string and feather
next to him. Yeah, maybe a new bed could do what the dream catcher hadn't
been capable of. Maybe he had worn it out, because for a long time it
hadn't caught any of his bad dreams.

 Since Fraser had gone back North, really.

 Picking up the dream catcher, Ray stood and went to the dresser. Pulling
out the bottom drawer, he dropped the thing inside, next to the journals
from their quest and the small box of photos. Ray shook his head and
closed the drawer again.

 Time to concentrate on the present instead of the past. Tomorrow would be
his first day in his new job. O'Neill had given him four days from his
arrival to get settled. The apartment wasn't bad. Living room, bedroom,
roomy bathroom, office/guestroom and a small kitchen. More than he'd had
before.

 Ray had wondered if he could afford it until he'd seen the contract.
Christ. His new salary was a lot better than it'd been as a cop. Not that
it mattered all that much. To Ray it was a chance to start over with
people who didn't know him, who had no expectations of him beyond him
doing his job.

 For the first time he had a new life without having to go undercover to
get it. It was exhilarating... but it scared him shitless.

 

 "Kowalski."

 Ray looked up after signing the form O'Neill had handed him before
leaving Ray on his own in the office. O'Neill was leaning casually against
the doorjamb.

 "Sir?" Ray put the pen down and concentrated on the man.

 O'Neill snorted. "It's Jack, O'Neill or 'Boss' as some of the people
around here say. I put 'sir' behind me when I left the Air Force."

 Ray rubbed the back of his head and smiled tentatively at O'Neill. It was
a bit unsettling how the man got around Ray's reserve without even trying.
"Sure thing... Boss."

 "I've got someone I'd like you to meet. I don't want to send you out on
any assignment half-assed. I want you to pair up with one of the guys for
a few cases, then we'll see. The work we do is either team-based or loner
stuff. You got a problem with one or the other?"

 Ray shook his head. "I wouldn't have been a cop for all those years if
I'd pulled the Dirty Harry routine too often."

 O'Neill grinned and turned a little in the doorway, gesturing at someone
behind him. Another man came in, fairly muscular build, though a little
shorter than O'Neill. The crew cut was military, but the guy smiled openly
at him and put out a hand for Ray to shake.

 "Ferretti," he introduced himself. "Lou among friends."

 Ray shook the proffered hand. "Ray Kowalski." Ray frowned. "Have we met
before?"

 Ferretti raised an eyebrow. "Not that I know of. Unless you've been in
the AF as well."

 Ray shook his head. "Nah, just a slip of memory, I guess. Unless you've
ever been on a ghost ship."

 Ferretti snorted but shook his head. "Can't say I have." He turned to
their boss. "Well, Jack. You got anything for Ray and me to dig into?"

 "Oh, do I ever," Jack said with a smirk. "First, you, Ferretti, are going
to find Janine, then go up to the archive upstairs and get the necessary
papers for the shooting range, and then you're taking our new man
downstairs for some shooting practice. I want statistics, gentlemen."

 "Will do, sir," Ferretti said with a grin and a half salute. "See ya in a
moment, kid." With that he was out the door again.

 O'Neill shook his head and went to the table by the window, pouring water
and beans into the coffee machine. "I swear to God, that man will drive me
crazy some day."

 Ray grinned. "Isn't that what friends are for?"

 O'Neill turned and gave him a strange look. "I think you're right," he
laughed. "Coffee's gonna be ready in a moment, I'm gonna go for a bit.
Help yourself to a cup. If I know Lou, he'll be a while before he returns
with the forms. He's got an eye on our lovely secretary," O'Neill said,
with a roll of the eyes and a fond smile.

 "Hey, O'Neill?"

 "Yeah?" Stopping at the door, O'Neill turned around.

 Ray cleared his throat. "Mind if I ask you something?"

 "Sure, go ahead."

 "The tone around here seems very..." Ray searched for the right word.

 O'Neill grinned as if he knew exactly what Ray was hinting at. And he
probably did. "Loose? Nearly insubordinate?"

 Ray nodded. He liked it, but he wasn't sure how to act himself. These
people seemed to know each other and he didn't want to risk being too
familiar this early on.

 "You'll find that if you click with people here, you'll be part of a big
family. We're a bit dysfunctional at times, but we take care of each other
and our own," O'Neill explained with a soft smile. "I hope you'll like it
here."

 Ray felt his own smile widening. "I think I will, Boss. Thanks. For all
of it."

 O'Neill smiled and gave him a quick salute before leaving the room.

 Ray went over to the window, watching the streets a few floors below.
Outside, New York didn't look too different from Chicago. Big city, lots
of people... Ray shook himself out of his reverie and went to the
coffeemaker, taking one of the mugs next to it, filling it and taking a
sip of the dark liquid. Too bad there were no M. Then again, this was
damned good coffee. Ray sighed as the taste hit him. Oh yeah, great
coffee.

 There was a noise by the door and Ray turned, expecting either Ferretti
or O'Neill to have returned. Instead he found a tall good-looking guy in a
dark blue suit, who was rubbing his eyes tiredly, obviously steering
toward the coffee.

 "Oh... I didn't think anyone was in here," the man said, blue eyes
focusing on Ray. "I'm Daniel," he continued, shaking Ray's hand with one
of his, while reaching for one of the mugs by the coffeemaker.

 "Um... pleased to meet you," Ray said, wondering if this was another of
his colleagues. "I'm Ray... Kowalski." Even if he hadn't felt the pull
toward other men since Fraser's departure, he wasn't dead. This guy was
damned fine looking.

 Oh wait. Daniel...

 "You're Jack's newest addition, right?" Daniel asked, sipping his coffee
with a look of pure bliss on his face.

 Ray nodded. "You're... eh..."

 Daniel grinned at him and shook his head. "I'm not an employee, just a
friend of the management."

 Ray couldn't help the snort from escaping. "Sorry." Probably didn't help
if he insulted the boss's boyfriend.

 A chuckle escaped Daniel. "Ah, I see Jack mentioned me. Come on, you can
tell me what he's told you. I swear, his tall tales get wilder every
time."

 "Nah, he just muttered your name at one point and since I know he's in a
relationship, I figured you were it."

 Daniel smiled softly. "Yeah. I occasionally swing by to say 'hi',
especially if I've been in court. I seem to need a boost after some of the
cases I'm called in as a consultant for." A shadow passed over the
handsome face and the blue eyes lost a little of their sparkling light.

 "Bad?" Ray asked as they sat down on the chairs by the window. He
wondered exactly what Daniel did for a living. Lawyer?

 "I'm occasionally called in as a specialist," Daniel said, as if
answering the unspoken question. "I have a PhD in psychology, I normally
work with kids and teens, especially concerning sexuality, but the state
draws on me for a variety of case types."

 "Lots of bad shit," Ray said softly, remembering some of the stuff he'd
seen during his cop-years.

 Daniel sighed. "Yeah. You sound like you know it?"

 Ray nodded. "Yeah. Used to be a cop... in Chicago."

 "I don't have to tell you how horrible people can be, then," Daniel said,
sitting back in the chair, nursing his coffee.

 "No... I've seen some of the bad stuff as well," Ray admitted.

 "And bad stuff sometimes happens to good people," Daniel replied. They
sat in silence for a moment and Ray wondered if there might be something
in the air of the Big Apple. He couldn't believe how much he felt at ease
around these people. He wasn't used to letting down his guard this fast.

 The door to the office opened again and O'Neill stepped back in. The
smile on his face widened when he saw the newcomer and made his way over
to the chairs. "Daniel..."

 "Hey," Daniel said with a soft smile, accepting the quick kiss O'Neill
gave him. 

 "I see you've met," O'Neill said, squeezing Daniel's shoulder, turning to
Ray. "Do I have to make formal introductions?" he asked with a grin.

 "Nah," Daniel answered, gesturing to Ray. "We were just making small
talk. I came looking for you and found someone who doesn't mind having a
heart to heart."

 "Are you calling me repressed?" O'Neill asked with mock-horror. Ray hid a
smile behind his coffee cup. If he hadn't know they were together, he'd
know it now. They seemed to almost... spark in each other's company.

 "If the shoe fits..." Daniel replied with a teasing grin.

 "See?" O'Neill asked as he gave Ray a helpless look. "I get no respect."

 "And you love it," Daniel said with a snort. With a soft sigh Daniel
leaned sideways against his lover who'd sat down on the armrest of the
chair. "This is exactly what I needed," he admitted.

 O'Neill frowned. "Bad day in court?"

 Daniel nodded. "I'm gonna tell you tonight. I just needed a breather and
to drop off the files you lent me."

 O'Neill nodded and stood. "You in a hurry?" he asked.

 "I've got time," Daniel said with a small smile.

 Ray got the feeling now would be a good time to leave. Thankfully there
was a knock at the door, and Ferretti entered the room. "Hey, Doc," he
greeted Daniel with a wide grin.

 Daniel smiled back and nodded. "Lou."

 "Come on, Kowalski. Let's see if you're as good as your file says,"
Ferretti challenged Ray good-naturedly.

 Ray grinned. "You sure you can handle that?" he asked as he stood and
nodded his goodbye to O'Neill and Daniel.

 "Oooh, cocky," Ferretti said with a smirk. "I think I'm gonna like ya."
With that he gestured for Ray to follow him.

 Feeling a little like Alice down the rabbit hole, Ray smiled and
followed. He'd be sorely disappointed if this job didn't work out. The
people he'd met so far were open and friendly and Ray got the feeling that
was exactly what he needed. Pulling his new glasses from his inner pocket,
Ray grinned and let Ferretti lead him to the elevator.

 

 It was surprisingly easy to get into a new routine. It was even easier to
make friends with the people he was working with... and for. In the
beginning Ray often sat down at night, wondering when the floor would tilt
and his new life shatter.

 It just didn't happen. Most of his assignments he took care of on his
own, though occasionally he enjoyed being teamed up with various
co-workers. A few of them he didn't click with, but most he got along with
really well.

 Even O'Neill ended up being more and more 'Jack' than 'Boss' and Ray
figured he was probably the easiest boss he'd ever had. Not that Welsh was
bad, but there were things you didn't say to or discuss with your
Lieutenant. Not that Ray often needed anything like that, but he got the
easy vibes from Jack.

 The only thing that unsettled him was basically Daniel. Well, the guy was
great, they were friends, hung out together sometimes, had lunch when Jack
was elsewhere busy and Daniel wanted company.

 No, the thing that was unsettling was the fact that Daniel was a shrink.
Ray couldn't actually forget it. The thought continuously lurked below the
surface and Ray found himself guarding words more than he should.

 However, Ray's uneasiness around the man was a little too obvious at
times. It meant that Daniel made an *effort* to drag him out of his shell.
Slowly Ray realized that might not be a terrible thing after all. It sure
beat being alone with his thoughts.

 "Jack, we're going out for lunch," Daniel said as he leaned against the
open door to Jack's office, Ray waiting behind him.

 Jack, who was expecting a new recruit for an interview leaned back in his
chair and eyed the two of them. Ray figured if he'd been in Jack's place,
he might not have let an employee take his boyfriend out to eat.

 "Should I be jealous?" Jack asked, trying to look serious.

 Daniel seemed to give that some thought for a moment, then shrugged.
"Nah, you don't like Indian anyway."

 Jack snorted and waved them out. "Go on, get out of here, kids. Have fun.
Kowalski, I want him back in an hour."

 Ray grinned and mock-saluted the man. "Of course, Boss. Anything you say,
Boss."

 "Don't overdo it," Daniel whispered more than loud enough for everyone to
hear. "It'll go to his head."

 Ray raised an eyebrow, not even going to turn it into a dirty joke. The
twinkle in Daniel's eyes told him he didn't have to. 

 They didn't have to go far to get to the small Indian restaurant Daniel
had his heart set on. The place was nice and not too over-decorated, and
the smells made Ray's stomach gurgle in anticipation.

 Daniel slipped down by a table and opened the menu and Ray took the seat
across from him. "What's good?" Ray asked. He wasn't normally adventurous
enough to go to a place like this, but he figured if Daniel said it was
good, it *was* good.

 "Most of it, but I think you'd enjoy the korma," Daniel said. They placed
their orders and Daniel leaned back in his seat, watching Ray with an
amused smile on his face.

 "What?" Ray asked, feeling the uneasiness intruding again.

 "You're a hard man to get to know," Daniel said, taking a drink of his
water. "Whenever I think I've got you pegged, you pull back."

 Ray rubbed the back of his neck, staring down into his own glass. "I...
I'm sorry. It's just..."

 "What is it that you find so unsettling?" Daniel asked.

 "You..." Ray admitted. "Or rather, that you're a shrink."

 "Ah, of course," Daniel said with a nod. Ray figured it wasn't the first
time he'd run into that problem. "Is there anything I can say that'll make
you feel more at ease?"

 "Probably not," Ray admitted with a small grin. "It's just... if I'm
honest with myself, I could probably benefit from talking to a shrink, but
I've had to do that before through the police work."

 "And you didn't like it," Daniel finished for him.

 Ray shook his head. "No, it was never a pleasant thing to go through. For
the longest time, and this might sound weird, I felt normal just from
being around my ...partner. I mean, he was so weird that everything else,
including my pathetic life, seemed sane."

 Daniel nodded. "Sounds logical... in a roundabout way."

 Ray grinned. "Yeah, that's about it."

 "You still talk to him?" Daniel asked, turning his head briefly to thank
their waiter for the food he was bringing.

 Ray sighed. "No... he's back in Canada."

 Daniel eyed him thoughtfully. "You do know, that if you need it, you can
come talk to me, right?"

 "Because it's your job," Ray snorted, pushing his food around on the
plate, letting the rice soak the sweet-smelling sauce.

 "No, you moron, because I'm your friend."

 Ray felt heat color his cheeks. "I know... I'm sorry," he said, finally
looking Daniel in the eyes. What he did find was a friend who seemed a
little worried about him. He hadn't really experienced that in a long
time.

 "I don't know if I can talk about it. I mean... we both screwed up and it
ended... badly. I think it's too late to salvage the bridges. They're long
gone, burned down." Ray took a bite of the food, all of the sudden not
feeling terribly hungry.

 "Have you tried?"

 "I tried, back when it happened. I'm afraid he wasn't ...receptive."

 Daniel winced. "So you never got it off your chest."

 Ray shrugged. "No, not really."

 "You know, Ray. You don't have to tell me, but if you want the name of a
good therapist, let me know. Until then... try writing it down. All the
things you'd say to him if you met him again. Don't hold back. It might
help you to at least start working through your problem." Daniel took a
bit of his own food, humming happily.

 "You really think that could work?" Ray asked hesitantly.

 "I'm not saying it'll be easy for you, but if you need it, you can talk
to me."

 "And you're sure it's not because you're a shrink or feeling sorry for
me?" Ray asked, seriously considering what Daniel was suggesting.
Absolution of some kind.

 "Ray, if that was the case, you'd be paying my price with the company
discount that's in your contract. And yes, before you ask, that deduction
is because I get to fuck Jack on a regular basis." The twinkle in Daniel's
blue eyes was downright evil.

 Ray nearly choked on the sip of water he'd just taken. He wasn't sure if
he should be scandalized or hoot with laughter.

 Daniel turned serious again. "Ray... You're a friend. Friends care. If it
makes you feel better, then there's probably something you can do for me
in return."

 "Like what? Only thing I'm good at is shooting and dancing," Ray said
with a snort.

 Daniel grinned. "So, teach me how to dance."

 Ray shook his head. "Are you insane?" 

 Daniel smirked, "I don't think so, though Jack has on occasion asked me
the same."

 "And what do you think Jack would say if I started teaching you to
ballroom dancing?" Ray asked with a grin. Disarming. These people were
downright disarming.

 "Um... let me think... 'Thank you?' Jack claims I have two left feet,"
Daniel admitted with a wink.

 This time Ray laughed. "That's a deal, Doc. I'll think about the therapy
thing and until then, you can draw on me for tutoring your ballroom
dancing." At Daniel's wide grin, Ray chuckled and took a good bite of the
food on his plate, his hunger returning as the weight on his shoulders
lightened a little.

 

 For a while all was good for Ray, his job keeping him busy, too busy to
dwell on things that could have been different. Then he got a letter from
Frannie, of all people, just a short notice, but it pretty much kicked the
bottom out of his world.

 The 27th had been notified that Fraser had been injured in the line of
duty. Severely. Frannie had figured he wanted to know, and had gotten his
address from Welsh.

 Ray sat, one night, in front of the TV, eyes unseeing. He'd made a few
inquiries with the RCMP, who hadn't been too forthcoming. Considering that
Ray didn't want anyone to know he was looking in on Fraser, least of all
Fraser himself, it wasn't too surprising. Still, through contacts he'd
finally found out that Fraser was stable.

 He was alive. But it had been a close call. That was all Ray had been
able to find out. It was enough. Ray's stomach was in knots, had been ever
since he'd heard about Fraser's injury.

 He'd thought he was over it. That he had left the regret behind him. That
obviously wasn't the case.

 Ray stared at the notebook in front of him on the coffee table. The pen
next to it reflected the shifting light from the muted TV. 'Write it down.
All the things you'd say to him if he was here now.'

 Daniel's suggestion echoed through his thoughts and Ray nodded, slowly
dragging the notebook closer, uncapping the pen and opening the book.
Putting the tip of the pen on the paper, he began writing.

  Dear B. Fraser

 Where the fuck did you go? Why the fuck did you go? You up and left me
with the whole mess. I paid for your outburst, I had to pick up the pieces
when you ran... left for the icy North. Guess it fits with your fucking
personality. If Thatcher was the Ice Queen, she's nothing compared to you.

 I'm worried out of my mind. Don't get me wrong, I'm still angry and hurt,
but it's also made me realize that I need to get this off my chest and a
friend suggested writing it down the way I'd say it to you. So here goes:

 You hurt me! Not physically, oh no. See I wasn't traumatized by what we
did. I'm not sure I got as high a dosage of whatever shit they pumped us
full of, because I remember a lot from that night... or at least, a lot of
it came back later.

 No, you had to accuse me of taking advantage of you, but I've got one
thing to say to that: You weren't the one having trouble sitting down the
next day! Nor were you the one having to deal with the fallout after your
little outburst at the PD. 

 Ray sat back on the couch and wiped a hand over his eyes. He was
definitely on a roll, but it hurt to drag it all back out again. Even if
Fraser would never see this, Ray didn't want to write down what had
happened at the precinct, so he drew a line through the last part. After
Fraser had said, loud enough for most to hear, that he wasn't wired that
way and that he believed Ray had taken advantage of him, sexually... The
shit had definitely hit the fan.

 Crossing his arms over the notebook, Ray rested his forehead against
them. It was as if his dam was bursting now, all the bad shit, all the
heavy memories breaking out. The memories of the whispered conversations
that ceased when he walked into the room, only increasing his paranoia.

 Then Vecchio had returned from Florida, looking for Fraser and it hadn't
taken long before the guy had dug out the rumors and had confronted Ray
with it. Well, he'd blown up, yelling at Ray right in the middle of the
precinct. He didn't want to remember the things that Vecchio had said to
him... had called him. That had pretty much been the reason why Welsh had
pulled him aside and told him to take a few days leave. The leave had
turned to more leave... and eventually ended with the job offer.

 Sometimes good things did come from bad shit.

 Ray sniffled a little, wiped his nose on his sleeve and sat back with the
notebook resting on his thigh.

  You are so fucking stubborn, hard headed... You never gave us a chance.
You were a coward, a hypocrite. It was always your MO to talk your way out
of trouble, but the moment it was personal, you turned tail and ran.

 I don't regret the sex, Fraser... I regret what it did to us, how you
reacted. I had a crush on you, but never intended for you to know. But for
one night, I had what I'd only fantasized about. Although I'd have
preferred to be sober, clean, whatever. Why did I never tell you? Because
what happened was what I wanted to avoid. If I couldn't have the whole
enchilada, at least I could have our friendship... and I could love you in
my own way... as a friend. I'd wish you'd stayed so we could have hashed
it out, cleared the air.

 I never asked to have those feelings for you. And for some stupid reason,
I can't even go out with other people. Every time someone asks, I find a
reason to say 'no'. Not because I'm not lonely, God knows I could use the
company... But there's always something... wrong. Men, women, it doesn't
matter... they aren't...

 They aren't ...you. 

 Ray squeezed his eyes shut, wiping infectively at the wet stains in the
notebook. Fucking head-case that was what he was. Ray slammed the notebook
shut and took it to his bedroom, burying it in the bottom drawer with all
the other memories.

 Daniel was surprisingly understanding when Ray called him at 11PM.

 

 There was very little light when Ray woke up. He blinked, disoriented,
wondering where his glasses were. He'd gotten so used to wearing them that
his distorted eyesight was annoying these days. Ah, on the coffee table in
front of him. Only, it wasn't his coffee table, wasn't his couch he was
laying on either. Putting the glasses on he tried to focus on the low
murmur of voices.

 Upstairs. He was upstairs in Jack's apartment. Ray sighed as he
remembered calling Daniel, asking to talk. Thankfully Daniel had been in
the apartment he and Jack sometimes used, a few floors further up. Jack
hadn't been home, so they'd talked until the early hours of the morning.

 Judging from the little light outside the windows, he hadn't slept all
that long. The voices were coming from the kitchen, where Ray could make
out the two men standing close together. Ray felt his cheeks flush as he
watched Jack draw Daniel closer to kiss him, long and slow.

 After his heart to heart with Daniel earlier, he felt raw. All those
damned memories and emotions were so close to the surface now. Ray closed
his eyes, and sleep came quickly. He was so tired, so drained that keeping
his eyes open would have been beyond impossible.

 Next time he opened his eyes, his glasses were back on the coffee table
and Jack was sitting in a chair next to the couch. He looked completely at
ease, as if it was an everyday occurrence to have an employee sacked out
on his couch. Slim glasses perched on his nose as he read a book, bare
feet pulled up under him. Wearing a pair of well-washed sweat pants and a
'Chicago Bulls' t-shirt he looked even more approachable than normally.

 "Sorry, Boss," Ray tried to say, his voice breaking a little, still rough
with sleep and from talking most of the night.

 "Hey, no problem. I figured it was bad when I came home to find you an my
couch and a worried Daniel next to you," Jack said lightly, brown eyes
soft with concern.

 "Just me fucking up my life again," Ray admitted. "Did Daniel tell you
anything?"

 "He's a shrink, he won't break your confidence," Jack said with a shrug.
"So if you want me to know, you'll have to tell me."

 Ray closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded and sat up. Taking a deep
breath, he opened his eyes again. "Long story short, the last case I had
with my partner, the Mountie, was completely screwed up."

 It wasn't any easier to recount now, but Ray figured he owed Jack at
least a little explanation. "We ended up being pumped full of some drug,
truth serum, that completely screwed up our inhibitions. We were dumped by
the bad guys, somehow we got home to my place and ...we ended up in bed
together."

 Jack nodded and made a 'go-on' noise.

 "No inhibitions, Boss. None whatsoever," Ray whispered tiredly. "We had
sex and when the drug wore off, Fraser blamed me for taking advantage of
him. He ended up returning to Canada shortly after pretty much outing me
at the PD. Not on purpose of course, but the tempers were running high.
For a long time I thought I was over it, or at least that I'd put it
behind me."

 "You haven't," Jack finished for him with a wince.

 Ray shook his head. "No... last night I was trying to work through my
hurt, and it got too much -- I'm one fucked up puppy," Ray said with a
sigh.

 "So your partner turned out to be a homophobe?" Jack asked, putting the
book aside. "Keep talking, Kowalski, I'm gonna make us some coffee."

 Ray smiled gratefully. "No... I don't think he was. I've seen him handle
cases... we had a case a couple of years back, gay bashing. Frase was
anything but phobic. He even told me about something that happened at
Depot."

 At Jack's questioning glance, Ray followed him into the kitchen. "It's
sorta the RCMP equivalent of our Academy. There was a group who got drunk
and a couple of the boys ended up having sex. Scandal material and all,
but the RCMP put a lid on it -- Still rumors and bad blood..."

 Jack nodded as he started the coffeemaker. "Yeah, thank you. I was in the
Air Force. Rumors aren't easy to kill."

 Ray leaned back against the door. "I know Fraser hated the way it was
handled. It's why I figured he'd have tried to clear out what happened
between us. I swear to God, Jack. Fraser is one of the most tolerant
people I've ever met."

 "Are you coming to terms with it?" Jack asked, blunt as always.

 Ray shrugged uneasily. "I... I'll get there."

 "Look, take my advice here. Let Daniel in. It'll be good for you." Jack
pulled to mugs down from the cupboard.

 "Yeah, I figured as much. It's been more than six months since it
happened and I've never talked to anyone about it. It blew up in my face
last night," Ray admitted sheepishly.

 "Hey, shit happens, kid," Jack said tiredly as he poured coffee into
their mugs and handed one off to Ray, who wished he could get some
chocolate or at least sugar. Still, it was good coffee, just what he
needed.

 "No kidding," Ray whispered. "Sorry I'm such a basket case."

 "Hey, I never said I wanted sane employees," Jack scolded good naturedly.
"You're a good guy, you're an effective employee and a good friend."

 Ray coughed, feeling his face heat.

 "Don't let it get to your head," Jack warned with a quirky grin.

 "Thanks, Jack," he said softly. "I seem to be saying that a lot to you."

 "You're an asset to the company, Kowalski. A pain in the ass at times,
but a real asset."

 Ray laughed and for the first time in a long time he figured things were
heading in the right direction.

 

 Life was good, work was hard, but Ray wasn't complaining. Most of the
time Jack dumped the missing persons cases on him, joking that he was
going to add P.I. to Ray's name soon. The caseload slowly grew and Ray
figured it was due to their good rep both with clients and the local PD.

 Ray wasn't the only one noticing that things ran smoothly with the PD,
when Christmas came, Ray found a little extra present from Santa.

 "Jack... I can't accept this." 'This' was the check Ray was waving under
his boss' nose.

 Jack grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Sure ye can, Kowalski. You
earned it. We've never had this good a relationship with the PD and don't
tell me it's not your fault mainly. I'm just glad it panned out hiring one
of theirs."

 Ray shook his head in exasperation. He had about as much chance of
returning that check as a snowball surviving in hell. "Jack..."

 "Raaay," Jack mock-whined. "Take the damned check and see it as an
inadequate way for me to thank you for furthering the company's goodwill."

 "You been reading Daniel's dictionaries again?" Ray asked dryly, covering
the warm feeling in his chest with his usual attitude.

 Jack glared at him, but the brown eyes were twinkling with mirth. Lifting
a hand, he silently pointed at the door.

 "Yes, sir! Right away, sir!" Ray hurried out the door, trying not to
laugh too hard.

 The Christmas holidays were... grey and bleak. It wasn't that Ray didn't
have any invitations to join others. No, his parents had called from
Arizona, where they were now living again, asking him to join them and his
brother's family for Christmas.

 Ray had said no, a little white lie about having to work, had slipped
past his lips, but he couldn't really bring himself to feel bad about it.
Even if his mother had sounded terribly disappointed. Ray just didn't feel
like being dragged into the family feast knowing they all looked a little
odd at him because he was still single and family-less.

 Things were... okay. Not fabulous, but okay. It had been nearly ten
months since he'd broken down and accepted the help of his friends. He
still wasn't dating, but his life was more or less in balance. Maybe once,
when he felt completely at ease with himself again, he would go out and
start seeing people outside work.

 Until then, he kept to himself, apart from the times where he was dragged
out kicking and screaming. It wasn't too bad, actually. He occasionally
spent time with Jack or Daniel or both, and about once a month, Ferretti
made sure he couldn't say no to a round of poker.

 Actually, Ray hadn't completely lied about having to work. Although it
wasn't during the Christmas days, but more New Year's Eve he had a job
for. One of those he wasn't too fond off, but Jack had asked him to take
it and Ray couldn't say no to the man.

 As Ray tied his tie and slung the suit jacket over his shoulder, he gave
himself a stern look in the mirror. He hated acting as a bodyguard, which
was kind of funny, seeing as it was most of what the company did. Ray had
simply taken over the part of the company dealing with the more
investigative cases. Still, occasionally, he'd say yes when Jack asked him
to take one.

 A senator. Senator Williams. Ray scrunched up his face, then sighed. The
guy was okay, more than okay actually. Ray had spent about an hour talking
security measure with the man a few days earlier. There'd been threats
made both by phone and mail and the police were still trying to find
whomever was behind it.

 The Senator had argued that he did not want to let whomever was doing
this, force him to constantly fear for his own life. He had an invitation
for the New Year's ball at the British Consulate in New York, and he
intended to attend.

 "Showtime," Ray whispered, before he turned around, grabbed his keys and
left the apartment.

 

 "Mr. Kowalski."

 Ray tilted his head toward Senator Williams. "Sir?"

 "Lighten up, young man. You look like one of the Men in Black." Williams
shot him a short grin.

 Ray swallowed a grin. He could have been less fortunate with a client.
Williams wasn't too bad. "Well, I am wearing black, sir."

 Williams grinned and patted his shoulder. "That you are, that you are."

 Ray scanned the room, taking in the lavish, old-fashioned wall panels of
the place. Huge paintings, heavy curtains covering the windows. Not that
there was much to look at outside. New York had had no white Christmas
this year, just freakishly cold weather with a heavy grey sky.

 Ray could have sworn he'd smelled snow this morning, but it might just be
a faded memory from the quest. Christ, Fraser had always been capable of
smelling oncoming snow, sometimes even eerily being capable of predicting
how much they'd get and for how long it would last.

 Pushing down on his memories, Ray forced himself to concentrate on what
was going on around him. Most of the guests were already there, the
caterers slipping unobtrusively from table to guest to table, filling
glasses and offering little sandwich thingies. Ray had already eaten. He
wasn't a guest, wasn't eating at the table. He had an assignment that he
would take care of, keeping all of his concentration on anyone suspicious.

 Ray adjusted his glasses and rolled his shoulders. It wasn't that he felt
above this kind of job, it was just... it often reminded him too much of a
stakeout. He preferred moving, never had felt at ease just standing or
sitting around.

 His attentions swung to the entrance again. More guests were arriving and
there was a brief flash of red that had Ray shaking his head. Nah. Just
his eyes playing tricks on him. Probably just someone's fancy evening gown
or something.

 The next happened so fast that Ray reacted on pure instinct. One of the
caterers pulled a gun, aiming it at Senator Williams. Ray grabbed the
nearest serving tray from a passing caterer and slammed it into the gun,
causing the guy to drop it, sending it flying across the floor.

 Ray's eyes met the attacker's and the chase was on. A quick check to his
left and Ray was assured that Williams was taken care of by the resident
head of security, an older man who nodded at Ray, gesturing toward the
retreating back of the attacker.

 With a rumbled curse, Ray twisted between the guests, running as fast as
he could while still keeping his sights set on the caterer's white jacket.
Outside the room, in the well-lit hallway, the guy turned left, heading
for the deeper parts of the house.

 Ray could hear running behind him, knowing that some of the security was
following him. Still, they were too far behind for Ray to slack it so he
pushed himself harder.

 The guy seemed at loss for a moment, then turned right at the next
hallway, passing the doors to the bathrooms. His mistake. Something red
flashed out of one of the doors and the caterer was tackled, thrown to the
floor.

 Ray was entirely focused on the attacker, and when the man scrambled to
get up, Ray was on him, forcing him back down, holding him until security
caught up with him.

 "Take care of him," Ray warned. "And did someone call the NYPD?"

 "The call is being made as we speak," a young blonde security guard
assured him.

 "Good, keep an eye on him until they get here, I'm gonna check up on
Senator Williams." With that, Ray turned to regard the man who'd helped
him and his breath stuck in his throat and Ray could have sworn his heart
skipped several beats.

 "Frase..." It slipped from his lips in a mere whisper. Then Ray cleared
his throat bringing himself back in line. "Corporal." Ray caught himself
almost saying constable, but... he remembered Fraser had been promoted
shortly after their stint with Muldoon.

 Sitting on the floor, blue eyes wide with wonder, Fraser was looking up
at him. "I... it's... Sergeant now."

 "Congratulations," Ray said automatically. Fraser looked good, if a
little tired. Considering that it had been ten or so months since he'd
been hurt badly, Ray was surprised that he looked as okay as he did.
"Better get up, won't do the RCMP rep any good to have its members
crawling around on the floor." Ray was surprised at how steady his voice
was.

 "I, eh..." Fraser shifted a little, indicating a cane that had skittered
across the floor during the fight. The piercing eyes took Ray's breath
away.

 Ray picked up the cane, and forced himself to deal with the moment.
Reaching down, he gave Fraser a hand up. The touch burned his palm and Ray
had to fight the urge to let go and wipe his hand in his trouser leg to
get rid of the strange tingling feeling that lingered.

 Fraser released his hand and accepted the cane Ray offered him. For a
moment they watched each other in silence. Ray took a deep breath, but no
words were forthcoming. He'd gladly claim that it was because he had
resolved his emotional state, but that would just be kidding himself.

 In his gut, in his chest, the anger burned surprisingly low, but his hurt
was still bright and blinding and as he watched Fraser there, right in
front of him, in the flesh, decked out in the red Mountie uniform... he
couldn't think of one thing to say that didn't in some way sound like 'why
did you leave me? Why are you here? Can't you just let me live my life?'.

 "I..." Ray shook his head to clear it. "I better get back to the
Senator." Ray turned, willingly ignoring the tentative hand reaching for
him. 'Run' his heart told him. 'Run-run-run-fast' said the thu-thud of his
heart, the beat of the blood in his veins.

 'No way in fucking hell,' Ray thought to himself. He wasn't the one
running, he wasn't the one who had run. He had a job to do, Fraser being
there was just a coincidence, didn't mean anything unless he let it.

 Steeling himself, Ray returned to the ballroom and found Williams. "It's
taken care of, sir," Ray assured him. "And I've been told that the police
has been notified as well."

 A short nod from the head of security confirmed it. "Would you prefer to
stay or return to your hotel?" Ray asked, hoping for the latter. He wanted
to get out, wanted to put as much distance between Fraser and himself as
possible.

 Ray's hopes fell when Williams shook his head. "No, Mr. Kowalski, I am
here and with the attacker well in hand, I don't see why I should let his
interference keep me from enjoying this New Year's Eve."

 Ah. Ray nodded his assent. "Very well, sir, but I'll continue to keep an
eye out for trouble."

 "You do that and may I say, I am pleased that the referrals I got to seek
the help of O'Neill's company were not wrong. You have done a most
splendid work, Mr. Kowalski."

 Ray bowed his head a little. "I had a little help from Corp... Sergeant
Fraser, sir." Credit given where credit was due.

 Of course Williams absolutely loved Fraser when said Sergeant turned up,
limping quite a bit, leaning heavily on his cane. Ray pulled up every
defense he could think of, every wall he felt was sufficiently strong to
get him through the night.

 Someone up there hated him. Ray was sure of that.

 

 "Nice work, Ray."

 Ray grinned at Jack who was holding the elevator open for him. "Thanks,
Boss," he replied with a grin.

 "Oh, and Janine, our lovely secretary, tells me that you have three
messages from the Canadian Consulate..." Jack leaned back against the
wall, watching Ray carefully.

 Ray sighed. "I know."

 "You sure this is the right way of doing it?" Jack paused as the doors
opened on the 1st floor.

 "I doubt it," Ray admitted as he followed Jack toward the main entrance.
"But I need time... I'm not sure how I might handle this..."

 "Well, until then, I can tell you I just got a call from Senator
Williams, who is very appreciative of your work. He wants you to show up
tonight at this restaurant." Jack handed him a piece of paper with an
address on. Wow, upscale place.

 Ray sighed again. "Ah well, he's the guy paying the bill."

 Jack laughed out loud as he put on his coat. "He's a good man, Ray. And
you deserve it. You did a damned fine job."

 "Well, I had... help."

 "So you say," Jack said lightly, but Ray wasn't fooled for a moment.

 "For someone who claims he doesn't want to pry, you're worse with gossip
than my old granny," Ray said sourly, hiding his own smile.

 "Hey, I'm getting old. I have to take my entertainment where I can get
it."

 Ray laughed out loud. "Don't let Daniel hear your talk about being old.
He'll do what he can to prove you wrong."

 "I'm counting on it," Jack said with a wink before he opened the front
door, threw Ray a half-salute and disappeared down the street. Ray stayed
where he was, looking outside. New York was still just cold and bare with
winter. No snow, not even slush.

 Finally he shook himself out of his reverie. He had cases to tend to, and
he had to pick up his suit at the drycleaner's before dinner.

 Ray managed to lose himself in his case and he barely made it to the
drycleaner's before they closed. A quick run home for a shower and he was
on his way to the restaurant. Hell, if Williams wanted to thank him with a
good meal, Ray wasn't complaining.

 Figured, of course, that he should have expected Fraser to be there as
well. 'Civil,' Ray told himself. 'Act civilized for fuck's sake.'

 Amazingly, they made it through dinner without any mishaps, mostly
because Ray didn't seek eye contact with Fraser and the other way around.
Williams talked about this and that, of course interested in hearing about
the RCMP and what Fraser was doing in New York. Ray paid attention. He'd
like to know that as well.

 "My injuries were quite severe and after several months of physical
therapy, anyone could see that I would have no future as an active member
of the force," Fraser explained stoically, but something in Ray burned at
that. It wasn't the same angry fire as before. That was still there, but
somewhere in there, there was a part of him that felt sorry for Fraser. He
was an active man, and Ray had seen just how fond he was of the hardship
the Territories challenged him with.

 "The RCMP was unsure what to do with me. So they promoted me and started
looking for a posting..."

 Ray's heart contracted. A desk job. It was like the death sentence to a
man like Fraser.

 "Was New York your own choice, Sergeant?" Williams asked, genuinely
interested.

 "I had... a few options. New York, Chicago..."

 Ray got that and for the first time that night, he met and held Fraser's
gaze. Too many memories in Chicago. Far too many. The rest of the dinner
passed with small talk, Fraser's tales of the vast open lands of the
Northwest Territories. Ray kept himself quiet most of the time, feeling a
little guilty as he enjoyed letting the cadence of Fraser's voice wash
over him again.

 It had been far too long. At that moment Ray knew what he'd have to do to
get it all out of his system. He had no idea what he hoped might come of
it, but the only way he could get it all out was letting Fraser know what
it had been like since they'd... parted ways.

 "Ray..." The softness of Fraser's voice made Ray turn as he was heading
down the street toward the underground parking-lot where he had parked his
car.

 "Fraser?" 'Play it cool, Kowalski. Don't do anything stupid.'

 "I... I've tried calling you a few times..." Fraser looked distinctly
flushed as he walked as fast as he could, catching up to Ray. Ray stopped
and looked at his ex-partner.

 "I know," Ray admitted softly.

 "Oh... I was hoping we could find time to ...talk." Fraser didn't look as
if he was putting too much faith in that.

 Ray nodded. "Give me a little time, Fraser, okay? I didn't expect running
into you." 'Ever again,' Ray finished it unsaid, but there was no missing
it.

 "I know I handled things badly," Fraser admitted, looking down at his
feet.

 Ray didn't snort. He wasn't feeling like being sarcastic. Quite frankly,
he felt like crying or throwing up. Not exactly prime urges for a man his
age.

 "If... if you change your mind about speaking with me," Fraser said,
words coming slowly. "You can reach me at the Canadian Consulate." He
hesitated for a moment. "Diefenbaker is there as well."

 Ray nodded. "I... I might," he said in a low voice.

 "Good, that's... good." Fraser sounded as if he was caught somewhere
between relief and complete and utter fear. Ray didn't blame him. Actually
he knew exactly what that felt like.

 "Good night, then..." Ray took a deep breath and turned around, catching
Fraser's soft reply, wishing him a pleasant night as well. He didn't dare
look back as he walked away. His pain felt far fresher than it should, and
Ray wasn't sure what exactly to do about it.

 Coming home, Ray caught himself staring at the phone. He didn't want to
call Daniel, didn't want to run to him every time he felt uneasy. Daniel
had said he could, but Ray wanted to handle it, wanted to get a grip on
his emotional state.

 "Focus," he told himself as he sat down on the couch. What he wanted...
needed, was to let Fraser know what had happened. Unfortunately he wasn't
sure he could just tell the man everything... not face to face. He really
needed to think about it.

 A quick cup of coffee and a trip to the bathroom to get ready for bed,
and Ray slipped under the cool sheets. He wasn't going to solve it that
easily. He had to find a way to make the things that had happened have the
right impact. Not because he wanted Fraser to hurt like he had, but
because he knew if he held back, he'd never get the Mountie to understand.

 Nearly asleep, it hit him. Ray was up and out of bed a few seconds later,
rummaging through the bottom drawer. He pulled the notebook out from under
the dream catcher. Entering the living room, Ray found a pen and tore out
a blank page.

 Fraser,

 I know this might be the coward's way out, but I have something I need
you to read, something that I don't think I can explain to you face to
face. I can tell you it won't be easy to read, and it's entirely your
choice if you read it or not.

 If there's any part of you that wants to salvage something from our
former friendship, read it, carefully. I didn't write it to hurt you, but
merely as a form of therapy. It helped me to understand that I was nowhere
near as resolved as I thought I was. But I think we both need to get it
out of our systems. I know I don't want to regret never resolving this
when I'm old and grey.

 R. Kowalski

 Ray dug into a drawer in the kitchen and found an envelope. He tore the
old 'letter' out of the notebook, folded it and wrote across the back:
Read the other one first. Both letters went into the envelope and as Ray
went back to bed, he felt both better and worse. He was going to swing by
the Consulate tomorrow and hand it over. One way or another, it was
necessary to go either forward or back, because this in-between sucked.

 

 A white something nearly caused Ray to sit on his ass in the middle of
the reception area of the Consulate, but he couldn't help grinning.

 "Dief!" Ray dug his fingers into the heavy coat of fur and shook the
wolf. Dief was dancing around him, wining, half-barking, trying to lick
Ray's face.

 "Diefenbaker." Fraser tried to keep his voice and tone stern, but even he
seemed to have trouble doing so. A soft smile lit his face as he stopped
in front of Ray.

 Ray grinned. "I'm just here to give you this," he said, handing over the
envelope to Fraser before he could change his mind.

 Fraser's smile faltered a little.

 "Read it, Fraser. Then we'll talk," Ray promised.

 Fraser nodded "I was about to take Dief for a walk, would you care to
join us?"

 Ray was about to decline, then looked down at Dief who was staring
adoringly up at him. Or maybe the wolf was just hungry. For a moment he
stared at it then shook his head and sighed. He rubbed Dief's ears. "Read
the letter, Fraser. Take the time to think about it. I promise you it will
explain a few things. At least I hope it will."

 "Then we talk?" Fraser asked softly, his expression sad underneath the
stoic mask he was unsuccessfully trying to don.

 "Then we talk," Ray agreed. 'If you'll even speak to me after reading
it.'

 Ray turned and walked away. The burning anger in his chest was nothing
but a dull ache by now. It wasn't gone, not by a long stretch, but
although Ray had gone over scenarios in his mind since the screw-up in
Chicago, he'd either imagined himself behaving as if he'd put it behind
him, or socking Fraser. He wasn't entirely sure how to handle what he was
feeling

 

 The next few days were torture to Ray. There were no calls from Fraser,
no messages at all. Still, his worry was mixed with a certain calm. He
knew that he'd poured a lot of his problems into that letter when he'd
written it and that the mere thought of Fraser now knowing... Well, it did
as much for him as any therapy session.

 Then, when Friday came around and Ray was getting ready to put work
behind him and embrace the weekend, it finally happened.

 Ray leaned against the front desk, waiting for Janine to find some phone
numbers for him. Jack came up next to him, coat hanging over his arm.

 "Daniel wants to know if you're up for dinner and poker Sunday night,"
Jack said lightly.

 "Oy," Ray sighed. "Doesn't he make enough money with his job? He's so
lucky it's surreal."

 Jack laughed out loud, then turned toward the entrance. Ferretti was
leaving, shouting his goodbye and something white slipped past him.

 "Whoa, what are you doing here, boy?" Jack reached down to let the wolf
take a sniff at his hands.

 Dief looked up at Ray, whining inquiringly. Ray couldn't help but smile.
"Yeah, Dief. This is Jack, he's my boss -- Jack, meet Diefenbaker, Dief
for short."

 "Hey, Dief," Jack said, rubbing the wolf's ears.

 Ray grinned at Dief, then took a deep breath as he watched the front
glass doors, revealing Fraser on the other side. "I think that's my cue,"
Ray said softly.

 Jack looked up and frowned. "Ray... is that...?"

 Ray nodded.

 "And you're sure you know what you're doing?"

 Ray took the notes from Janine and wished her a good weekend, then turned
to Jack. "No, I don't. I hope it'll work out, but I need to do this, Jack.
I need to see it through."

 Jack nodded. "I can see that."

 "I'll be okay," Ray promised with a slightly cockier smile.

 "Just be careful," Jack warned.

 Ray threw him a quick salute. "Always, Boss, always." With that, he made
for the door, Dief hot on his heels.

 Opening the door, he found a nervous looking Fraser in civvies. "Hey,"
Ray greeted softly.

 "Hello, Ray," Fraser said back, not raising his voice any more than Ray
had.

 "Are we civil enough to go grab something to eat in public?" Ray asked,
figuring that Fraser showing up like this was a good sign. It had to be.

 Fraser cleared his throat and ran a thumb over his eyebrow. "I should
like to think so."

 "Good," Ray agreed. "I know this little place around the corner where we
can talk fairly privately. They might even let Dief in if I ask nicely."

 Of course they let Ray bring in Dief. The owner was a friend of Jack's
and Ray was a regular there. They were shown a booth in the corner by the
windows, where they could see people rushing by to get out of the cold.

 Ray ordered his usual sandwich and a cup of coffee. Fraser asked for the
same, though chose tea instead of coffee. Even that was something Ray had
missed. Their meals together, sharing coffee and tea either in his home or
in some diner or caf. Shaking his head he looked at Fraser across the
table as he nudged Dief with the tip of his shoe under the table.

 "I take it you read the letter," Ray said in a low voice.

 Fraser nodded. "I did... It was... quite a revelation."

 Ray shrugged. "Yeah... when I wrote it, it was a revelation to me as
well," he admitted.

 "I... I am sorry to have caused you so much pain," Fraser said softly,
barely audible. The blue eyes that Ray had seen shine with happiness
during their quest were somehow muted...

 "I guess I could have followed you to Canada and made you listen... and
talk," Ray admitted.

 Fraser chuckled mirthlessly. "There is no excuse for me leaving like I
did. There is no excuse for me not reacting logically, taking into account
all the things that happened. Even if I did not remember at first."

 "So you remember?" Ray asked, feeling heat fill his cheeks.

 "I... started remembering... or rather, having flashbacks, some time
ago." Fraser took a deep breath. "The first did not really come to me
until I was injured, while I was heavily sedated at the hospital... I
wasn't sure what was real and what was... imagination. I... I'm not as
brave as you seem to think. I was afraid... and the more I realized what I
had done... I felt so guilty."

 "You read the letter I gave you, right? You're no more guilty about what
happened that night than I am," Ray assured him. And it was true. The only
thing Ray blamed Fraser for was running away. The actual act... no.
Neither had been in a state where they could have stopped it.

 "I still feel guilty..."

 "You don't get it, do you? Fraser, I never blamed you for what happened.
I had the crush on you from day one. I wanted it. Well, I'd have preferred
us both being sober, but you know what really hurt? You didn't trust me,
didn't allow me to try and fix it. You just assumed that I'd fucked
you..." Ray drew a ragged breath.

 "Ray... I never explained to you why I don't drink or why I strive to
always be in control of myself. I did tell you about the ...situation at
Depot where there had been drinking and where one cadet took advantage of
another..." Fraser trailed off.

 Ray nodded. "Yeah... I know you hated how it was handled."

 Fraser shrugged, looking torn. "There's more to it, Ray. What I did to
you was no better than what they did to..."

 Ray stared at him, and it was as if someone had turned on the lights.
"Shit... Fraser, the cadet who was raped..."

 Fraser looked down into his tea, seemingly searching for words. "It was
the shame afterwards... and... I made it far worse by behaving like my
superiors did... toward you of all people. My friend."

 Ray ran a hand through his hair. Christ, that sure explained a lot

 "I feel I'm no better than they were. I know you didn't take advantage of
me -- that was fear and the lack of memory speaking. But I feel so very
guilty for leaving you behind. That was, as you would say, 'not buddies.'"

 Ray swallowed hard. Fraser looked like he was about to crumble and Ray
wanted nothing more than to hug the man. His own anger was slowly
crumbling as his heart ached for his old friend. "Fraser... I didn't
know..."

 "I do not make a habit of sharing such things, Ray," Fraser admitted.

 "I get that," Ray said. "I understand that."

 Fraser opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

 "Okay, out with it," Ray said before taking a sip of his coffee.

 "Where does this leave us...?"

 'Oh, Frase. Ask the hard ones first, huh?' "I don't know... I mean, I
want to salvage our friendship..." as he said it, Ray realized just how
much he meant it. "Are you staying in New York?"

 For a moment something like hope flashed across Fraser's face. "I've been
promoted, as you know. They offered me a few choice postings." Fraser
halted for a moment, then continued. "I'm only fit for a desk job now. I
was in the hospital for a long time and to make matters worse, the bullet
in my back shifted so it had to be taken out lest it make more damage."

 "Oh..." Ray took a deep breath.

 "I also have to admit that I knew you were somewhere in New York." Fraser
shot him a guilty look. "After my near brush with death, it made me
realize that I could die tomorrow and we'd never have cleared the air
between us."

 Ray blinked hard. So they wanted the same thing in the end. Clean air
between them. "Unresolved business... I get that. I need to think this
through... I'm not saying I don't want to salvage our friendship, because
I do. I just need to..."

 "I know -- you need time. I understand. As do I... I need to think more
about your letter. Need to truly understand it."

 Ray nodded. Finally it seemed they were getting somewhere. 

 "I have more pieces now," Fraser said. "I have to get it all to fit." 

 "Too much to contemplate that I hav... had the hots for you?" Ray asked
with a grin, trying to cover his slip.

 Fraser looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, that as well."

 "Fraser... did you ever talk to anyone about what happened at depot?"

 "Only my superiors and you know how that turned out," Fraser said,
bitterness coating his words.

 "Did you ever think about talking to a pro?" Ray asked tentatively. It
had helped him get on with his life. He ached for Fraser at the moment and
as much as he had been angry with the man, they needed to mend on their
own before they could mend their friendship fully.

 "I'm not..." Fraser began.

 "I know how you feel about shrinks, but maybe you need it. I even know
someone you might talk to." 

 Fraser leaned back in his seat. "Oh?"

 "Yeah, I got a friend named Daniel. If you want, I'll ask him. He mostly
works with kids and teens, but just talking to him helped me a great
deal."

 "Daniel?" Another emotion flashed across Fraser's face, but Ray didn't
know what it was.

 "Doc Jackson. Look, you don't HAVE to but..."

 "I... I shall think about it." 

 "Good... that's... good," Ray said, finally concentrating on his
sandwich. They ate in companionable silence and Ray even managed to slip a
bite down to Dief without Fraser commenting. It was so much like old times
that it made Ray's chest ache.

 When they parted outside the diner, Ray stood still for a while, watching
his ...friend limp along the street, wolf at his side. Dief turned to look
at Ray, but Ray shook his head. If he was lucky, he'd see them both again
soon. As he lost sight of them, something fluttered past his eyes. Ray
looked up and another cold and wet snowflake fluttered down to land on his
nose.

 Ray scrunched up his nose and grinned. Snow. Pure, white snow, at least
as long as it lasted. It would soon be slushy and brownish grey. But right
now? Right now it was pure, white and cold. His grin widened as he turned
to make his way back to his apartment.

 

 "Don't you look nice," Daniel grinned as he turned to give Ray an
appraising look. Daniel was by the front entrance, waiting for Jack and
Ray joined him as he waited for Fraser.

 He'd finally heard from Fraser and they had another dinner date. Well,
date and date. Ray didn't want to call it a date. It made it sound so...
intimate. Yet the way Ray was feeling in his chest and stomach, it might
just as well be one.

 "Yeah, can't go out to dinner looking all scruffy and used," Ray said
with a grin.

 "Absolutely not," Daniel answered smoothly. He wasn't looking too bad
himself in dark grey chinos and a black sweater.

 Ray rolled his eyes and went to the door as he caught sight of Fraser
outside. Dief-less. Oh well, hopefully he'd see the fur-face again soon.
Making up with Dief wasn't the problem. It was setting things right with
Fraser.

 "Hey, Fraser," Ray greeted with a soft smile, trying to gauge Fraser's
mood.

 "Hello, Ray," Fraser greeted as he went through the door as Ray held it
open. They were officially closed, but seeing that he, Jack and Daniel
were going out, they would set the alarm on their way out. There was
another entrance for when he got back, one that would take him to the
elevator going up to the apartments above.

 "Fraser, this is Doctor Jackson," Ray said, gesturing toward Daniel.

 Fraser gave Daniel a strange look, then politely shook his hand. "Pleased
to meet you, Doctor Jackson."

 "Please, it's Daniel," Daniel said with a shrug. "I'm more than the sum
of my education."

 "I should hope so," Ray snorted.

 "Hey, no dissing me because of my chosen profession," Daniel warned him
with a playful smile.

 Ray laughed out loud. "Not dissing you, Doc. You're one of the few
shrinks I trust."

 "Why thank you, Mr. Kowalski," Daniel said with an air of fake
importance. Clearing his throat, he shook his head. "Sorry about that
Sergeant," Daniel said, putting on a far more serious face. "Ray said you
wanted to speak with me?"

 Fraser looked like what he wanted most of all was turn tail and run. As
far as humanly possible. "I... I am still considering it."

 Daniel dug into his wallet and pulled out a business card which he handed
over to Fraser. "Just call if you decide you need to talk."

 Fraser hesitantly took the card, then put it in his coat pocket. "I
shall."

 "Daniel! Ah, there you are," Jack hurried around the corner. "Sorry I'm
late, Love, the phone rang before I left the office."

 "Christ on a crutch, Jack -- sometimes I think you're married to your
job," Daniel said with a grin.

 "Well, that's just because I can't legally marry you," Jack said with a
wink. Stopping next to them, he held out his hand and shook Fraser's.
"Sergeant Fraser, I take it?"

 "Ah... yes, Mr. ..." Fraser looked a little overwhelmed and Ray couldn't
blame him.

 "O'Neill, I'm Ray's employer," Jack said, tugging at Daniel's sleeve. "We
better get going or we'll be late."

 "I was ready ten minutes ago," Daniel grumbled good-naturedly. Jack
steered a laughing Daniel out the door with a wave to Ray and Fraser. Ray
grinned and set the alarm, tugging a rather quiet Fraser along.

 Dinner wasn't... at all what Ray had hoped for. Not that he'd expected
everything to magically return to normal, but Fraser was even more
buttoned up than normally.

 Even though Ray had been hungry earlier, he pushed his food around on the
plate. Something was definitely bugging Fraser, and Ray wished, not for
the first time, that the man would just get to the point, let it out.

 "Okay, I'll bite," Ray finally said. "What's eating ya now?"

 Fraser shot him a surprised look, which turned into a frown. "I am loathe
to put my nose where it does not belong..."

 Ray snorted. "No, you put your tongue and nose in a lot of places and it
doesn't normally bother you."

 Fraser didn't laugh, just watched Ray for a moment. "Is there something
between you and Dr. Jackson?" he asked.

 Ray wasn't sure what surprised him more. The boldness and ridiculousness
of the question or the fact that Fraser hadn't evaded, hadn't tried to
tell him an Inuit story. "I... of course not. Why do you ask?"

 "You seemed so very much at ease with him and you were... flirting."
Fraser looked a little embarrassed.

 "And that bothers you why? Because he's a man? Because he flirts with me
while being in a relationship with another man himself?"

 Fraser shook his head. "Please forget I asked."

 "No, no, no." Ray shook his head. "Why did you ask?"

 Fraser concentrated on his food.

 "Fraser..." Ray deliberately put as much warning into his voice as
possible.

 "I..." Fraser hesitated. "I fear it made me feel jealous." With that
admission he looked up, eyes wide with fear.

 "Look, Frase. I don't want a repeat... I can't..." Ray shook his head.
"Fraser, this is moving into territory which neither of us are comfortable
with."

 "I'm sorry, Ray. This is not your problem, it is mine." Fraser tiredly
ran a hand through his hair. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I should talk
to Dr. Jackson. My conflicting emotions are not only causing me problems,
but they are hurting you as well."

 Ray took a deep breath. He could do this. "Look, Fraser... we just need
to take things slow."

 "Perhaps it would be wiser for me to return to Canada..." Fraser muttered
to himself, as if he wasn't hearing Ray.

 Ray reached across the table and grabbed Fraser's hand, holding on when
Fraser tried to pull it away. "Don't do this," he warned. "Fraser, for
fuck's sake, if you run away again, I'll... I'll... kick you in the head!"

 Fraser finally looked up at him, shock written clearly on his face.

 "Yeah, I want you around," Ray said. "Is that so hard to accept?" Okay,
time to piss or get off the pot. Take the bull by the horns... "There's
something I need to tell you," Ray said softly. He hadn't consciously been
considering this road, but as he searched for the right words, he realized
that it felt right. It felt right for the first time since he'd lost
Fraser.

 "Ray?"

 Ray held up a hand. "Fraser, I haven't dated since that... happened." Ray
caught the change in Fraser's expression, the 'I am so guilty' one. "No,
no, no! Don't you dare blame yourself for that! Look... when... when I
fall, I fall hard I'm... like a fucking dog, loyal and needy... I cling.
You know that, Fraser. I think after Stella... I only fell once after
her... and I can't do it again. -- I fell for you, you idiot, that's why I
haven't dated. Well, I've had dates with my right hand more often than
not." Ray took a deep breath and grinned at Fraser's blush. "Look, maybe
you should talk to Daniel, then we will talk about this..."

 They sat in silence for a while, and Ray realized he was still holding on
to Fraser's hand. Fraser, who wasn't trying to get away anymore.

 "You believe we have a chance?" Fraser finally asked when Ray lifted his
hand and tried to concentrate on his food.

 "I don't know, Frase... But I'm willing to give it a try." Ray sat back,
stopped pretending that he was hungry. "You?"

 Fraser drew a shaky breath in. "I... I'm more than willing to try," he
said, voice far more steady than it had been all evening.

 "Good," Ray said quietly.

 They skipped desert and although they hadn't enjoyed the food all that
much, Ray figured the night had been good. They stood on the sidewalk
outside the restaurant and Ray smiled softly at Fraser, who seemed to have
lost some of the tired look to his face.

 "It has been a... lovely evening," Fraser said softly.

 "That's one way of putting it," Ray said with a grin.

 Fraser ducked his head, but Ray caught the smile.

 "There's your cab," Ray said, nodding toward the cab pulling up to the
curb.

 "I..." Fraser sighed deeply.

 "We'll take the time it takes," Ray assured him. "Get home safe. Sweet
dreams." With that he leaned in and touched his lips to Fraser's cheek.

 The look Fraser gave him nearly undid Ray. So lonely, and so very
familiar. "Missed ya," Ray admitted.

 "And I you," Fraser whispered back. "Good night, Ray."

 "Night, Frase," Ray said as he backed away, letting Fraser get into the
cab. With a small wave he watched the cab pull out into traffic. With a
much lighter heart, Ray turned and decided he could walk home. Wasn't that
far, and although it had started snowing again, it wasn't too bad.

 

 Ray sat back on the couch with a yawn. Damn, it'd been one long day. As
he tried to decide if getting up to get a beer was worth it, his cell
rang.

 "Ray."

 "Hi, it's Daniel."

 Ray smiled and swung his legs up on the couch. "Hey, what's up?"

 "That question has a multitude of answers, my friend," Daniel chuckled at
the other end. "But seriously, I talked to Fraser today..."

 Ray took a deep breath, then smiled a little. "He tell you Inuit
stories?"

 "Yeah..."

 "It's nothing out of the ordinary there, Daniel. He's always done that...
especially when there's something he'd like to talk about, but doesn't
really want to bring up." Ray hesitated for a moment. "He's a very
stubborn man, Daniel."

 "So I've noticed," Daniel replied with a snort.

 "He was always the oddball, but a great man. A wonderful friend. He
strives to appear perfect, correct... but he's not. He's weird even by
RCMP standards."

 "You still love him very much, don't you?" Daniel asked softly.

 "More than anything, but once burned twice shy, right?" Ray closed his
eyes and sighed.

 "Don't worry, Ray. If he's as stubborn as I think he is, he'll get
through it." 

 "I know, Daniel... I know."

 

 "Kowalski, I need someone to lock up tonight."

 Ray looked up from the paperwork he was sifting through. "You got it,
Boss. Daniel taking you out?" he asked, as he eyed the suit Jack was
wearing.

 Jack mock-growled. "Yeah, some fancy reception at the University. Lord
knows I hate it."

 "Look at it this way, Jack, you get to flaunt your gorgeous boyfriend."
Ray leaned back and eyed his boss with a grin.

 Jack laughed. "Speaking of gorgeous boyfriends..." he hinted.

 "He's not.. we're not... um..." Ray felt his cheeks flush. 

 Jack didn't answer, just raised an eyebrow.

 Ray couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks Jack," he said softly.

 "Whatever for?" Jack asked, leaning on his desk.

 "The whole thing. Giving me a chance back then, making me feel welcome,
helping me fit in... trusting me."

 "Aw, Kowalski, don't give me this mushy stuff..." Jack looked a little
embarrassed, but the smile he gave Ray was one of pride. "I'm glad we
pulled you aboard."

 "So am I, so am I. I'll lock up, Jack. Go on, get out of here and have a
good time." Ray waved him off.

 Jack sauntered out with a distinctly pleased look on his face. Ray shook
his head. Finishing up his paperwork, Ray got up to check the place and
lock up. Janine had left about half an hour earlier, so he just checked
the other offices. Nope, everyone had gone home for the weekend.

 As he made his rounds, there was sound at the front door. Returning
there, he found Fraser and Dief on the other side. With a soft smile, Ray
let them in, getting slobbered in the face by Dief. He exchanged a shy
smile with Fraser.

 "I hope we're not disturbing you," Fraser said, looking as polite as
always.

 "Not at all, I was just closing up. Wanna go up to my place, eat a bit?"
Ray asked, feeling a little awkward. He didn't want to do anything that
might jeopardize their newly rediscovered friendship.

 "I would love to..." Fraser looked down as Dief yipped. "I do stand
corrected. We would both love to."

 Ray grinned and pointed toward the elevator. "Take it up to the 8th
floor, wait for me there. I gotta set the alarm before I join you."

 Fraser nodded and gestured for Dief to follow. The wolf gave Ray's hand a
last lick before following Fraser into the elevator.

 A last quick check and Ray turned off the lights and set the alarm. On
his way up in the elevator, he wondered again how wise it would be to
spend the evening with Fraser in the privacy of his own home. So far
they'd eaten out every time they'd met up.

 As he exited the elevator, he found them waiting for him. "This way,
guys," Ray said, leading the way down the hallway.

 "This is... a very nice place, Ray," Fraser said when they entered the
apartment.

 "Thanks. Jack owns the place, but the employees who want to, lease
apartments." It was... home. "And I can sleep in, in the mornings," Rays
said with a wink.

 Fraser's smile lit up. He obviously remembered Ray's inability to get out
of bed early.

 "May I borrow your bathroom?" Fraser asked, still looking around Ray's
living room as he took his coat off and put it over the back of a chair.

 "Sure, second door on the left," Ray said as he went into the kitchen to
find something for Dief to drink from. The wolf taken care of, Ray went
back into the living room.

 Music. He needed something to calm himself down with. A quick trip to the
CD player and the room filled with soft music. Ah, much better. Ray took
off his glasses and put them on top of the stereo. He closed his eyes and
swayed to the music.

 When he opened his eyes again and turned he found Fraser right behind
him. The impulse to just reach for him was too damned strong. Before he
could stop himself, Ray slid his hands along Fraser's lower arms, drawing
him closer.

 "I have... missed seeing you like this," Fraser told him. The blue eyes
were so familiar, and Ray realized that the constant low burn of anger, he
had lived with for so long, had faded into nothingness. 

 Ray sighed softly, then took Fraser's cane and put it next to the stereo.
"Don't argue with me, Mountie," Ray warned, maneuvering Fraser into
position, as close as he dared. They shuffled to the music for a few
minutes, then as the track changed, Ray gave into the urge and put his
arms a little tighter around Fraser.

 For just a moment, Fraser's stiff posture remained just that; stiff. Then
a shiver went through the compact body and Ray was tentatively pulled
closer. Fraser rested his head on Ray's shoulder and Ray could feel the
light puff of Fraser's breath against his neck.

 "Are we ever going to be ...okay again?" Fraser asked softly.

 "I... I hope so," Ray whispered back. "This is... this is good," he
admitted.

 "I... yes... yes it is." Fraser's arms tightened around him. "This is
very good."

 Ray nuzzled Fraser's neck, breathing in the familiar scent. "Ben..."

 Fraser turned his head a little, and for a moment they were sharing air.
It reminded Ray of the Henry Allen. Pushing that memory back for a while,
he tentatively pressed his lips to Fraser's.

 A soft sigh gusted against his mouth before firm lips returned the kiss.
Nothing extreme, just a quiet 'hello', reconnecting. "We have to be okay,"
Fraser whispered. "I'm not sure I would want to go on the way things have
been."

 Ray shook his head, closing his eyes. "Me neither, buddy. Me neither."

 "Ray... can we take things slowly?"

 "That's the only way to do it, Fr... Ben..." Ray buried his face where
Fraser's shoulder and neck met. "That's the only way."

 The End  
  

End Truly, Madly, Deeply by Ximeria 

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