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      	  In Time 
 by Akamine chan  

 Author's Notes: Beta'd by the wondrous Wooly_Socks at the last minute, on
Christmas Eve. Thanks millions for that. This is for Simplystarsfor being
there, for hand-holding, for eye-rolling, for not using the red font. Here
ya go, babe! Enjoy. 

 Story Notes: Part 2 in the In Time Turtle!fic series

 

 "Jesus, what was in that eggnog?" Ray stumbled, thankful for Fraser's
strong grip on his arm. It kept him from falling flat on his face. "It
didn't seem that strong when I was drinking it."

 "Ah."

 Ray hated that. 'Ah' was Fraser's way of distancing himself from the
subject being discussed. In this case, Ray and the spiked eggnog. Or maybe
it was just Ray. He couldn't tell, these days. Every time he was sure he
had Fraser figured out, the man took a sharp left turn and Ray was lost
again. Not that Ray minded being lost. But it was time to stop the car and
ask for directions. "What does that mean, Fraser?"

 Ignoring the question, Fraser half dragged, half carried Ray into the
lobby of his apartment building. "Does the building owner ever intend on
repairing the elevator?" he asked, nodding toward the large 'Out of Order'
sign that had been taped to the slightly askew doors since May. "It
clearly violates several regulations of the Americans with Disabilities
Act."

 "I don't think he gives a damn," Ray mumbled, trying to ignore his body's
usual reaction to Fraser's nearness, which involved a painfully hard dick
and a desire to peel Fraser out of his clothes and lick every part of him.
Which is why he tended not to drink around him anymore. Alcohol lowered
Ray's inhibitions and he didn't trust himself not to reach out and grab
what he wanted. 

 Ray let himself be led up the stairs, putting his feet down with
exaggerated care. "Hey, where's the Diefster?" He turned quickly,
overbalancing and almost sending them tumbling down the stairs. Fraser
grabbed the banister and jerked Ray back, pulling him tightly to his
chest. "Whoa." After a moment, Fraser let him go and started back up the
steps.

 "He went home with the Vecchios, remember? He wanted to wish Ma Vecchio a
Merry Christmas." 

 Fraser sounded slightly out of breath and Ray thought he'd felt a
suspicious hardness in the front of Fraser's tight jeans. Or maybe it was
wishful thinking. Fraser had, on occasion, seemed to be flirting, but Ray
had convinced himself that he was imaging things. Fraser was straight,
Fraser liked women, Fraser certainly had no interest in doing indecent
things to Ray's naked body.

 "Oh, right" 

 They made it to the second floor landing without further incident. Fraser
propped Ray up against the wall while fumbling with the key ring, trying
to find the correct key to unlock the door. "Ray, you really need to
discard the keys you no longer have a use for."

 There was no mistaking the affectionate exasperation in Fraser's voice.
"Nah," he said, grinning. "Where's the challenge in that?"

 "There are plenty of challenges in life, Ray, without creating more," he
chided gently.

 Ray decided to ignore that remark and concentrate on not sliding down the
wall. He tried to lock his knees but they seemed to be made out of rubber
and refused to cooperate. It was much cooler on the floor and he wondered
if he could convince Fraser to join him down here.

 Fraser made a small sound of triumph and pushed the door open. "Come on.
Let's get you inside where it's safe and warm." He grabbed Ray's arm and
pulled him onto his feet, steering him carefully into the dark apartment.

 "Home," Ray sighed. He let Fraser push him down onto the couch, wilting
into the cushions. He was tired and it was so comfortable here. He was at
the end of his sugar-and-alcohol induced high and he was crashing. It was
so hard to keep his eyes open. 

 He could hear Fraser puttering around the apartment, rummaging in his
medicine cabinet, running the water in the kitchen. A few moments later,
Fraser was gently shaking his shoulder, waking him from the doze he'd
slipped into. "Here, Ray. Aspirin and water. You need to hydrate before
going to sleep."

 "Yeah, okay." Obediently, he swallowed down the pills and finished off
the glass of water before slouching back again. He didn't have the energy
to get up and go to bed. Maybe if he rested his eyes for a moment...

 "Ray."

 "Huh?" There was something in Fraser's tone, something quiet and scared,
that had him instantly alert. "What is it?" He started to get up but
Fraser waved him back down.

 "Are you sufficiently drunk, Ray?" 

 From across the apartment and in the dark, Ray found himself unable to
decipher the expression on Fraser's face. Part fear, part...hunger? He
shook his head, trying to clear the spiked-eggnog haziness. Fraser was
acting really weird and it was starting to freak him out. "What? Am I
sufficiently drunk for what?"

 "To tell me the story of how you came to be Turtle's caretaker." There
was a pause while Fraser stared into Turtle's tank. "You said you needed
to be drunk to tell the story, because no one would believe you."

 Fraser's voice was steady and it calmed him down a little. He hesitated
for a minute, considering. If he told the story, Fraser might think he was
crazy and try to get him committed. Oh, wait. Fraser was already crazy, as
he'd learned on their adventure to find the Hand of Franklin. Fraser had
admitted to seeing and talking with his dead father. At the end of the
Muldoon case, Fraser's equally dead mom had shown up to collect her
husband and lead him into the light. So, Fraser was crazy, but they were
partners. He trusted Fraser, just like Fraser trusted him. A two-way
street of unspoken communication. A duet.

 "Go into the bedroom and bring me the lockbox from under the bed. Then
pull up a chair, Frase, and I'll tell you the story." He snuggled further
down into the couch, yawning, waiting for Fraser to do as he said. He was
surprised when Fraser chose to sit next to him on the couch, metal box
clutched firmly in his lap. He was close, close enough for their shoulders
to touch. Ray risked a glance at his face, glad to see the fear was gone.

 "So, once upon a time, when I was just an officer patrolling the street
of Chicago, there was a report of shots fired down at the shipping
district. I was just about to go off shift, but I was nearby so I answered
the call. When I got there, it was a mess. A couple of dead bodies and
this one older guy who had been shot several times but was still alive."

 Ray cleared his throat and swallowed. "You understand, this was a long
time ago. I hadn't been an officer for very long. I called for backup and
an ambulance, but it wasn't looking good for the guy who was still alive."
Ray looked down, still seeing the blood that coated his hands as he tried
to stop the bleeding. "This guy, he was Chinese or something, kept trying
to get up. He muttered a lot but I couldn't understand any of it. I tried
to calm him down, tried to apply pressure, but he was pretty bad off."

 He rested his head on the back of the couch, still seeing the scene
clearly. It had been the first time he'd seen someone die, up close and
personal. Sometimes he still had nightmares about it. He rubbed at his
eyes, suddenly exhausted.

 "And then?" Fraser prodded. He was focused totally on Ray. That
concentration made Ray twitch and fidget a little.

 "Then, the guy grabs my arm and says, 'Help me.' I'm like, 'I am helping.
Hold still.' He shakes his head, reaches up and takes off his funny
looking hat. Inside, there's a turtle shell. He hands me the shell and
says, 'You must protect him. He will save the world.' He coughs a couple
of times and stops breathing." Ray paused, lost in the memory. Even after
all this time, it still hurt. " I tried CPR, but I couldn't bring him
back. He'd lost too much blood."

 "What did you do then?"

 "I shoved the shell into my pocket and forgot about it. When backup
finally got there, I helped with sealing off the crime scene and securing
the area." Here, Ray hesitated and tugged at his earlobe. This is where it
started to get weird. "I got home hours later and remembered that I had
the stupid turtle shell in my pocket. I took it out to look at it and
Turtle popped his head out. About gave me a heart attack."

 He heard Fraser inhale deeply. "Ray, the crime scene..."

 "Yeah, Fraser, I know. I had removed evidence from a crime scene." He
laughed mirthlessly. "Trust me, I know. I decided to go back down to the
station and turn the turtle over to the investigating officers. Maybe he
was an important clue. Besides, what was I going to do with a turtle?" He
wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. "But somehow, I forgot that I was
going to take the turtle back to the station. And every time I tried, I
would forget." Ray tried to make it clear with the tone of his voice that
this was a different kind of forgetting. "Eventually, I stopped trying to
take him back."

 Fraser touched his knee and held up a finger, getting up and going into
the kitchen. Ray heard running water and the clink of ice on glass. Fraser
sat back down and offered him the water. Gratefully, he took the glass and
drained it, suddenly aware of the dryness in his throat.

 "So, that's how Turtle came to live with me. It sounds crazy, but it's
the truth."

 Fraser turned to look at him. "I believe you, Ray. I believe you."

 Ray let out the breath he'd been holding. "Oh. Really?" He tried to keep
the hopefulness out of his voice but wasn't entirely sure he'd managed it.

 "Of course, Ray." He clasped Ray's shoulder and squeezed gently. "What
then?"

 "Stel had gone for the weekend to visit her parents. By the time she'd
gotten back, I'd found a nice tank for Turtle and he was happily living in
his new home. Stella never said a word about him. No 'Ray, what is that
turtle doing here?' or anything. It was like he didn't exist in her
world."

 Ray got up and started pacing in front of the couch, unable to hold still
any longer. Adrenaline and fear had burned the alcohol out of his system
and he needed to move. "And then, it really starts to get weird. Every
once in a while, I'd look at the tank and Turtle wouldn't be in there. I'd
blink and look again, and there he was. Sometimes things would be in the
tank with him."

 "Things? What kind of things?"

 Fraser had the wide-eyed deer-in-the-headlights look that drove Ray crazy
with lust. How could something so innocent be so sexy? He shook his head,
trying to drag his thoughts away from Fraser and sex. He nodded at the
metal box on Fraser's lap. "Open it. The combo's 9-25-13."

 After turning on the small lamp next to the couch, Fraser opened the box.
Inside was an odd assortment of objects. A silver coin, a spoon, an
arrowhead, an intricately jeweled dagger, and a turtle carved out of jade.
Fraser picked up the spoon and looked it over carefully, turning it to
examine the back. 

 "I took it to an antiques dealer that I know. The spoon is from France,
probably made during the pre-Revolutionary period, possibly some time
between 1768 and 1770. Notice that there is no wear; the spoon looks brand
new. He says that it's not worth a huge amount by itself. A set would sell
for a lot, though. Five, six grand, at least." He scrubbed at his face
with both hands. "The dagger dates back to the 1850's - Mongolian, he
said. After that, I stopped taking things to him. How could I explain
where I had gotten this stuff? A scruffy Chicago flatfoot with expensive
antiques? And the coin. The coin is the worst."

 With a trembling hand, Fraser picked up the coin. It was very shiny and
had a carved owl on one side, a profile of a woman on the other. "Ray?"
Fraser's voice was faint and shaky. "Is this what I think it is?"

 "I don't know, Fraser. What do you think it is?" He waved his hands
around, not really expecting an answer. He plowed on. "Thankfully, I
didn't take that one in to be appraised. Instead, I bought a coin
collecting book and looked it up." He took a deep breath. "It's an
Athenian tetradrachm. One of the rarest and oldest coins. There are only
twelve documented in the world." He pointed toward Turtle's tank. "And I
found that one with the turtle. The turtle that someday is going to save
the world."

 Abruptly, Fraser stood up. He was pale, but Ray thought he was taking
this very calmly. When he'd originally found the coin and discovered what
it was, he'd spent several days gibbering nonsense to the turtle like an
idiot. 

 Fraser walked over to where Ray was standing and slowly, deliberately
reached a hand out to touch Ray's cheek. He slid his hand to the back of
Ray's neck and pulled, bringing their lips together in a brief, sweet
kiss. "Go look in Turtle's tank, Ray," he said hoarsely, licking at his
bottom lip.

 Ray wanted to moan and chase that tongue back into Fraser's mouth. He
wanted more kisses. He wanted someone to pinch him so he knew he wasn't
dreaming. Instead, he did as Fraser told him to and went over to the tank,
looking in curiously.

 Nestled between a plant and a rock was a picture. Even in the dimness of
the single lamp, Ray could see that it was of Fraser and him. Kissing. He
felt a blush, as well as a hardening in his pants, at the sight of that
kiss. It looked sexy and dirty and hot as hell. Above their heads was a
banner which proclaimed 'Happy Anniversary, Ben & Ray!' He could see a
silver band on Fraser's ring finger. They looked so happy in the picture
that Ray felt tears sting his eyes.

 "Why didn't you tell me how you felt, Ray?" Fraser came up from behind,
wrapped his arms around Ray and hugged him hard. "We've wasted so much
time," he sighed, nuzzling the back of Ray's neck. "So much time..."

 "Merry Christmas, Fraser," he replied, turning around in his arms,
searching for one of those amazingly sexy kisses. This was everything he'd
ever wanted. Given to him by a turtle that defied the laws of physics and
apparently traveled through time. A turtle that someday, would save the
world. He would worry about it all later. Right now, he just wanted to
take his Mountie to bed.

 So he did.  
  

End In Time by Akamine chan 

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