Edge of the World	   Edge of the World

 by anonymous co

  

 

 Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Aren't mine, don't own 'em, thought they were
cute and might like to have some fun. Besides, talk about subtext. This is
JiM's fault, and Bone's. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. But 

 Author's Notes: 

 Story Notes: 

 This story is a sequel to: Nunavut Blues 

  Edge of the World ***  

 Edge of the World 

 This is like the edge of the world. 

 I have to admit, it's fucking beautiful up here in this weird way. Fraser
worries a lot about me, he checks my feet and hands every night and every
morning-like I'm going to get frostbite in a doubled sleeping bag with
him-and makes me put goggles on over my glasses and about five layers of
clothes and eat, God, he makes me eat. 

 He wanted me to eat butter, for God's sake, but even I don't like butter
that well. So I throw down a ton of pemmican. 

 I can't shake that damn cold, though, the one I got staking out Muldoon.
I hope that bastard is cold where ever the hell he is right now. Heh, I'm
sure not. 

 Nope, I'm bundled next to Fraser, and even though it's colder than hell,
I'm horny, and I want him and I'm working on seducing him, which is great,
because he's all over the kissing thing, and we're both sort of buried in
the sleeping bag, and Dief is adding to the heat in the tent. 

 How the hell can his hands be warm? Not that I'm complaining, of course,
but my hands make him jump a little when I slide them under the two layers
he's wearing, and he laughs a little and rolls over on top of me. "Ray,"
he says, and kisses me, licks up inside my upper lip and the roof of my
mouth. 

 Nothing like a warm Mountie blanket, I think and push my hips up against
him. He cups my head in his hands and just goes to town on my mouth, and
oh, man, I'm all over that, I'm licking right back. I'm trying to remember
if we've got anything but that petroleum jelly when Fraser slides those
hands down and rolls the two layers I'm wearing down, lifting his hips
just enough to push them down to my knees. 

 I take the hint and pull his down, too, and oh, yeah, this is good, nice
and hot and hard, and he feels so damn good. I don't want this to end, I
don't, and if it takes us from now until never to hunt for this hand, I
don't care. Yeah, I know that ain't gonna happen, but I'm not going to
think about it, I'm only going to think about right here and now, and God,
this is good and so hot, and it's been long enough that we're rocking and
rolling pretty damn quick, no teasing and fooling around, and we're not
letting up on kissing so I more or less yell into his mouth when I come,
and it takes him about three more strokes and he's gone, too. 

 More kissing. God, I love that kissing. I love him. I am so screwed, I am
so fucked, and I'm holding on with all I've got, trying to make it last. 

 Somehow, he drags a shirt or something out of one of the packs and cleans
us up, nipping and licking my throat while he wipes the mess up. We get
the layers back in place and I wrap myself around him, big fucking lump in
my throat all of a sudden. "So where do you think you'll get assigned?" 

 He turns his head and nearly whacks me in the nose. "What? Oh, I don't
know, I suppose it depends." 

 Depends? "On what?" 

 "On whether or not they take my wishes into account." He kisses me, and I
can't help feeling like he's trying to shut me up. 

 What are your wishes, I want to ask, but by the time he's done with that
kiss, I'm too nervous. First time I ever wished Fraser hadn't kissed me, I
have to say. 

 But he's holding me nice and snug, and that's got to mean something,
right? So I swallow down the nervousness, and after a while, I manage to
go to sleep. 

 Next few nights, I let it rest, and during the day I'm too busy trying
not to fall on my face to ask any questions. Cross-country skiing, and I'm
learning, Fraser keeps telling me I'm doing good, and I have to admit,
it's easier for me than those damn snowshoes. At least once I start
getting the hang of it, it is. And you know, it's not so hard to stay warm
when I'm working that hard. Of course, my nose is still running like a
fucking fire hose, and I'm coughing a little now and then. Not bad,
really, I've got the scarf wrapped around my face to keep the cold air
from drying my nose and throat out, but when Fraser notices it, I get the
Mountie eagle eye. 

 "It's just that cold," I tell him that night, drinking the fourth cup of
really weird tea he's made me. 

 "I'm sure," he tells me, but there's a little line between his eyebrows,
and once we're sacked out, he's got his lips all over me, only not like
he's horny, like he's-oh, yeah, like my mom used to do when she thought I
had a fever. 

 I can't help it, I crack up. "Ben, I'm good, I've just got a cold." I
like calling him Ben. Hell, we're alone out here, I don't have to be
careful at all. In fact, even if we weren't, isn't anybody out here who
knows I don't usually call him by his first name. 

 He shakes his head. "We're in harsh country, Ray. It's never good to take
these things for granted." But he seems satisfied that I'm okay. Kisses my
belly for real, tugs up the waistbands of my bottom layers. "What have we
here?" 

 Hey, I'll play. "That? Nothing you haven't seen before." 

 "I rather thought it looked familiar." He reaches in and yup, my dick
wakes right up and says hello to him, and that's about all I notice
because then there is a hot wet mouth over me, and I'm totally done
thinking until I get my breath after I come. 

 I return the favor, thank you very kindly, Constable Fraser, and Fraser's
not a casual guy, I tell myself, this means as much to him as it does to
me, and I've got to stop thinking about this or I'll drive myself crazy. 

 I'm completely zoned after, so he doesn't have to kiss me to shut me up,
and I sleep pretty good, although I do wake up once and have to drink some
of the cold tea he left for me to drink. 

 He wakes up enough to check my skin again, and I grumble at him and then
we both go back to sleep. 

 We're starting to hit some rugged country now. But it's cool, I'm cool,
and we're heading east like always, not too far from the coast, from the
maps, and we're really fucking doing it, it's great, really great. 

 The only bad thing is this fucking cold, and now it's starting to get me
a little, I'm feeling really whipped when we stop for the night. Not
coughing any worse, really, but I'm tired. I eat and drink another half a
gallon of the tea Fraser pushes on me, and I slide into our sleeping back
and I'm out, just gone, I barely even notice when Fraser slides in with
me. 

 I do wake up a couple of times, though, get rid of some tea, let Fraser
make me drink more. It will keep congestion down, he says, and I'm all for
that. He pulls me close when I crash again, and I'm all for that, too,
even if I'm tired enough that I just throw an arm over him and go under
him again. 

 When I was a kid, I used to get bronchitis a lot, really bad. I don't
remember it, but I heard my mom talking about it with Stella, back in the
early days when I was trying to quit smoking. Cops smoke, but it was dumb
to start, and it was harder than hell to quit, but I made it, and since
then, I hardly ever get sick, so it was worth it. Anyway, I outgrew the
bronchitis thing, haven't had even a touch since I quit smoking. 

 I wake up coughing hard, though, and I start wondering if maybe that's
what I've got. Not a lot we can do about it out here, and I don't say
anything to Fraser, not when we're this far from anywhere. Weather changes
about midafternoon, and the wind comes from the north, and it's colder
than hell and Fraser decides we're making camp early. 

 He spends some time checking maps, and doing that sextant thing before
putting the tent up. I get a fire started-hey, I'm getting good at this
wilderness lore of the North stuff, I have to say, and if I wasn't
starting to feel kind of crappy, I'd be ribbing Fraser about how quick I'm
learning. He was worried about the city fit part, but I can tell he's
pleased. Or was. He doesn't look too pleased today, he keeps looking at me
while we're getting the tent up. Gets me inside, and uses the campstove to
heat some stew and make tea. I'm getting used to the damn tea, I don't
even mind the taste at this point. 

 Puts a pan of snow on after we eat, with the flame turned way down.
"Moisture," he says, kind of short. Then, "Into the sleeping bag, Ray, you
look tired." 

 "Ben, I'm not too bad," I tell him. "We stopped early today." 

 He studies me for a minute. "Please." 

 I stare at him for a minute, and shrug. Peel off the outer layers and
slide in, and he puts an extra blanket over me, strips off his own outer
gear and gets in, rolls on his belly to spread out a map again. Fact is,
I'm feeling kind of achy, which worries me, but like I said, nothing to do
for it out here, and whining isn't going to help. 

 I roll over on my belly beside him so I can see the map. "So where are
we?" 

 He puts an arm over me, taps the map with his other hand. "Right about
here, I believe." 

 I look. "Kugluktuk? That's a mouthful." 

 "We're in Nunavut now, Ray." He smiles a little, hugs me a little.
"There's a story that the name was originally supposed to be Qurluqtuq,
which means 'place of moving water'. Kugluktuk actually means 'two
startled people', which wasn't quite what was intended." 

 I laugh a little and naturally, that sets of a coughing jag. He's out of
the sleeping bag and rummaging through the pack in a heartbeat. Unhappy
expression. More tea, I think, and finally get the coughing under control.
"Sorry, Ben." I guess I'm admitting I'm in trouble, and he nods, still
unhappy. 

 That unhappiness kind of leaves me feeling hollow, so I don't fight over
the tea and I don't bother him about the map any more. I just fold over on
my side and pretend I'm asleep when I feel him lean over to touch his
mouth to the back of my neck. Not kissing me, taking my temp. So I don't
move, but my throat hurts a lot. 

 I'm asleep quick enough anyway, I'm not pretending much. 

 I tell myself, hey, no whining, I got two extra weeks of Fraser, two
weeks all to myself, unless you count the dogs and Dief. 

 Dief, who sleeps in the tent with us, comes over and lies down beside me,
and even if it doesn't make things better, it still feels good. 

 Bad night. I spend a lot of it waking up and coughing, and I'm whipped in
the morning. Totally. Fraser breaks down the camp by himself, he won't let
me do much, and I swear to God, he builds a cocoon of the sleeping bags
and blankets and makes me get in the sled, with as many layers as I can
fit on. 

 At this point, I feel too lousy to care. It's over, so much for
adventures, and more than that, the whole thing is over. I rolled the dice
and they came up snake eyes, and it figures, that's the way my life seems
to go. 

 I keep dozing off and waking up, and I'm fucking freezing even though
I've got layers and layers and layers on. Dozing is better, and I finally
just stay there, in that in between place, until Fraser's leaning over me
and unwinding me from all the stuff. 

 "Come on, Ray." Gentle, not like he's mad at all. Worried. 

 "Innaminnit." I close my eyes again, but he's not having any of that, he
takes hold of my arms and hauls me up and there's someone else helping
him. 

 Swear to God, it looks like Maggie, all bundled up in one of those big
Arctic coats. I figure I'm hallucinating, but the two of 'em get me up
some wooden steps into a place that looks way too familiar. 

 Not big enough for a hospital. 

 The Maggie look alike is saying, "Well, Inuvik had too many memories, and
of course, I was somewhat in disfavor." 

 Fraser nods, but he's concentrating on keeping me on my feet. "This way,
Ray." Still gentle. There's a guy standing there with a stethoscope
hanging around his neck, and I blink at him as we go past and through a
door. Examining table, and Fraser and Maggie are helping me get the first
few layers off. 

 Fraser's rattling stuff off too fast for me to catch, and my bones feel
like I'm being roasted over a slow fire. 

 "You look just like Maggie," I tell the Maggie person. Well, I sort of
wheeze it. 

 "I am, Maggie, Ray," she tells me, matter of fact. "Pull your arm out." 

 I pull my arm out of a sleeve, and turn to look at Fraser, but it makes
my headache worse and I have to close my eyes. "I gotta lie down." 

 He's got me, though, it's okay, and I'm flat on my back, but that's not
so hot, I start coughing, and then stuff happens too damn fast for me to
track. I fuzz out somewhere in the middle of things, right after I cough
so hard I puke, and don't really get my bearings back for a while. 

 I'm in a bed, there's this thing on my nose, and an IV in my left hand,
and two Frasers sitting by the bed. My Fraser looks tired and worried, and
Maggie is sitting close to him, patting his arm. 

 "Sorry," I croak. 

 He leans forward and takes hold of my hand. "No, Ray, don't be sorry.
It's not your fault." 

 Yeah, right. I knew I had a cold. Who knew it would go bad like this? So,
I close my eyes again and concentrate on not coughing, and on breathing,
and while I'm doing that, I fuzz out again. 

 Chest hurts. Bones hurt. If there's such a thing as a heart separate from
the pump, my heart hurts. Fuzzing out is a relief, and when I go under
deeper, I'm so fucking glad&. 

 I don't hurt as bad when I wake up again, although my mouth tastes like
shit, and I'm dry as desert sand. There's a kind of thin, grey light
coming through the windows, and when I look around, I'm in a hospital bed,
and there's a curtain between me and the rest of the room. There's a cot,
too, and Fraser is stretched out on it asleep. 

 I close my eyes for a minute, and breath in, and that thing is still in
my nose, I forget what it's called and that's going to drive me batshit.
There's a pitcher of water on one of those tray things, just out of my
reach, so I shift a little and try to sit up. 

 Minute I do, Fraser is up, looking startled, then relieved. "Ray." Husky
voice and he clears his throat, gets up, and pours a glass of water for
me. Holds it for me and man, I drain that puppy dry. Wheeze when I'm done.
He's giving me one of those smiles, those Fraser smiles, and I get a lump
in my throat. "Ray," he says again, leans in, and kisses my forehead and
eyelids. "You had me worried." 

 "'M sorry, Ben." My throat aches worse and my eyes are burning. 

 "Shhh." He kisses my eyelids again, draws back and frowns. "Ray, it's all
right. I was worried, that's all." His thumb rubs gently under my eye.
"Ray, what is it?" 

 I'm sucking it up, that's all. I manage a wobbly grin and say, "Guess
that's it for the adventure." 

 He wipes under the other eye, too. "Well, for this year, I should think."
Another one of those smiles. "But there's always next year." 

 I grab that hope and hang on to it. "Yeah?" 

 "Definitely." He rests a hip on the edge of the bed. It's a pretty slim
hope, but it's better than nothing. I'm still going to miss him so bad,
but at least he's talking next year. I know Fraser, he wouldn't say it if
he didn't mean it. Of course, I'm still leaking at the eyes, and he's
worried again. "Ray, tell me what's wrong." 

 I suck it up again, even if I can't stop the leaking. "It's just feeling
like shit. What is it, bronchitis?" 

 Fraser gets serious. "No, Ray, you have pneumonia in both lungs. I don't
mind admitting that I was seriously worried when we got here. I thought
we'd have to fly you out of here, back to Yellowknife. But you're
responding very well to the antibiotics." He wipes his fingertips under my
eyes again. "Are you sure that's all that's wrong?" Very softly. 

 "It's just-" Oh, shit, I'm not going to do this, I swear, I'm not going
to do it, but my mouth opens anyway, and I say, "It's just that I'm going
to miss you a lot until then." 

 Oh, fuck me, way to go, way to be a needy soul-sucking asshole, Kowalski,
and the tears down the back of my throat make me start coughing again, and
Fraser grabs one of those little puke bowls they give you in hospital, but
this time I don't puke, I just cough up some nasty green shit and even
though that makes me gag, I don't dry heave. 

 More water and he's rubbing my back. Letting me be and not embarrassing
me, but when I finally lie back again, he says, real low. "Ray, I'm not
going anywhere. You're not going anywhere. Why are you going to miss me?" 

 Shit. I shake my head, my throat feels kind of raw. "This is where you
belong, Ben. And I sure as hell don't, this proves it. That's all. You
know it, and I know it." 

 He gets a funny look on his face. "Do you?" Not mad, just sort of weird.
"Well, I was born and raised here, Ray. And I still don't have any idea
where my next duty assignment will be, or if the RCMP will, in fact,
decide to transfer me." 

 I don't want to hear this. It's going to make me hope again, and that's
wrong, I shouldn't be hoping for him to be stuck somewhere. He does belong
up here, even the Ice Queen knew that and was big enough to tell him. 

 I just shake my head and wheeze some more. "Hey, what's this thing
called," I ask, tapping the plastic tube under my nose. "I can't remember,
I used to know." 

 "It's a cannula." He rubs his eyebrows. "Ray-I don't want you to worry
about anything right now but getting well. I'm not leaving, that's all I
can tell you. Do you trust me?" 

 "Jeez, of course I trust you." Man, I hate being sick, I can't stop
snuffling like a goddamned kid. 

 His fingertips smooth over one of my eyebrows for a change. "Do you
believe that I love you?" Worried expression, worried voice. 

 Oh, wow, that's it, I'm gone, and I'm holding on to him and fuck the
medical staff, and he doesn't seem to care and I'm trying to talk, but I'm
wheezing, and he's holding back, and telling me just to be quiet and
still, just breathe. 

 Just breathe. 

 But when I sink back on the pillows, he raises the back of the bed for me
a little, and he's looking way relieved. "I told you, whatever happens,
we'll work it through, remember?" 

 I'm caught between snuffling and laughing, but I nod. "Oh, yeah." Hoarse.
"And we did." 

 Oh, yeah, that gets me another one of those smiles. I feel lightheaded,
if I was standing up, I'd be wobbling, I know I would be, and he laces his
fingers with mine. "Just get well. People get sick, things happen. We'll
do fine next year, Ray. I told you we'd have this adventure, and I don't
intend to forget it." 

 Maggie comes in then, looking crisp and neat in her uniform, carrying one
of our packs and a steaming mug. "Benton-oh, Ray, thank God." She just
beams at me. "How are you feeling?" 

 I shrug. "Better than I did, I think." 

 "I thought we might have to fly you out," she says. "Benton, I brought
you some clean clothes and tea, and Kieran's on his way back." 

 Fraser just nods happily, looking at me. It's Maggie who tells me that
Kieran is one of the nurse practitioners here in Kugluktuk, and that I've
been sick as hell for three days. The IV has major super antibiotics,
because they went through about three different kinds before they found
the right one for this bug, I guess. 

 I mean, jeez, I haven't been really sick in years and years, so I guess I
was due, but still&. 

 "How long I gotta be in here?" I ask finally. 

 They both give me the same Are-You-Unhinged look. "Until they say you can
leave," Fraser tells me, kind of sharp. 

 Maggie points at Fraser. "Precisely." 

 I sigh. "I just don't wanna waste all my vacation time in a hospital,
even if it's a mini-hospital." 

 Maggie laughs. "As soon as the IV and the oxygen come out and off, you
two can stay with me. Believe me, Ray, you're going to need some recovery
time." 

 "I'm tough," I tell her. 

 She nods, pats Fraser. "Sit on him if you have to." 

 "He'd only enjoy that," Fraser tells her, his tone kind of mild. 

 I stare at him, and then feel myself start to turn red. "Fraser!" 

 Maggie leaves, still laughing, and he just grins at me. "Ray. Ray. Ray.
Ray." Happily. 

 Well, I'm pretty fucking happy too, or I would be if only I didn't feel
like shit. I'm about as tough as overcooked pasta right now, and just to
prove it, I fall asleep in the middle of eating oatmeal about an hour
later. 

 Fraser just thinks that's funny. 

 I think he's just relieved. 

 Me? I'm relieved, too. We still don't know what's going to happen with
his transfer or not transfer, or whatever the fuck it is, but I'm still
relieved. He's not saying anything different, he's saying the same thing
he's said all along. We'll work past whatever happens. I should have
figured out ahead of time that even if nobody was using the L word, that's
what that meant. 

 No more singing the blues for Damien and Barbara Kowalski's boy, Ray.
We're going to work it through, says the Mountie, and he's never lied to
me yet. 

 Don't think he ever will. 

 Maggie's got modern quarters, like a two-bedroom apartment, and modern
appliances, and Jesus, yes, hot and cold running water. I'm still
tottering around like I'm ninety, and even I have to admit I'm pretty
scrawny these days. Dief is all over me when I'm sitting down or lying
down, and it's funny, it's like he was worried about me. I can still
remember him lying down next to me in the tent when I felt so lousy, so
I'm feeding him little snacks when Fraser isn't looking. 

 Maggie and Fraser are both fussing over me, except when Fraser is
sleeping, which is usually when I'm sleeping anyway. 

 When I started to get well enough to pay attention, I could see how tired
he was. Maggie says they brought the cot in because he wouldn't leave,
like he was afraid I'd stop breathing if he left. Fraser told her right
off about us, and she seems fine with it, and when I try to have a really
awkward conversation with her about the whole thing, she just hugs me and
says it's nothing I should worry about. 

 "Ray," she says kindly, "I liked you, but I barely knew you. I'm glad
you're happy, and I'm very glad my brother's happy." She hugs me again.
"All right? Friends?" 

 So I nod and feel stupid, but basically good about it, and when I tell
Fraser about it, he arches an eyebrow at me. 

 "Would you rather she'd been upset?" 

 I poke him in the ribs, which is about all I have energy for these days.
"Hell, no. But I gotta admit, it sorta bruises a guy's ego a little." I
grin at him, let him know I'm kidding. 

 He gives me a long look and rolls over on top of me. "Don't worry, Ray, I
know someone who wants you a great deal." 

 "Yeah?" 

 "Yeah." 

 So it's all okay, that way. 

 Thinking about Fraser refusing to leave makes me choke up, thinking about
that, but hell, I'd be the same if he was that sick. So, we sort of nap
together, the last few days, and he's getting past the being tired a lot
faster than me, of course. 

 So I wake up from my nap today and teeter-totter back out and find him
and Maggie standing there in her front room. He's staring at a letter, and
Maggie looks worried. Fraser just has this blank look on his face, but
when he looks up and sees me, he halfway grins. 

 "What?" I stop, swallow hard when I see the RCMP crest through the
letter. "Where?" 

 He laughs. "A promotion, and Chicago." 

 Maggie's looking relieved. "Is that what you wanted?" 

 "Yes, it is." He smiles at me. 

 I can't decide whether to be pissed at the RCMP or fall down out of
relief. He deserves better. "Ben, are you sure?" Trying to hang tough. 

 "Very." He gives me my favorite version of his Just-For-Ray smiles. "And,
I called last week while you were still in the clinic, they'll let me roll
over my accumulated leave for next summer." 

 I start to grin then. Hell, not even I can stay worried or feel guilty
with that smile aimed at me. "Oh, yeah. That's great. Really great." We're
going home. Home. 

 Maggie looks from him to me, grins at both of us and then excuses herself
to go back to work. 

 I get a bear hug then, and he more or less bosses me into curling up on
Maggie's sofa and having an after lunch lunch and sits down with me. Dief
curls up on the floor beside the couch after Fraser nudges him off, and
doesn't even complain. 

 "I called to check on arrangements for getting back to Chicago, Ray."
Serious voice. "I think it might be good to change your leave from
personal to sick leave, and even though I'm certain that the nurses here
are very well trained, I'd like you to see a doctor." 

 I roll my eyes at that last thing, but the rest of it makes sense. "We'll
have lots of time to plan," I tell him and rub my hair against his cheek.
"And get in shape." 

 He chuckles. "You were doing just fine, Ray, until you got sick. I hate
to bruise your ego again, but you amazed me." 

 Not only does that not bruise my ego, it perks it up a little. "You
aren't yankin' my chain, are you?" 

 "Not in the least, Ray." Serious expression. "You really were. It was
just bad luck, that's all." 

 Well, hell if that doesn't make me feel better. "Next year we won't have
to jump out of a plane." 

 He grins. "I hope not." 

 I give him a look. "Turtles. I can't believe I fell for that, I can't
believe I looked." 

 Now he's trying not to laugh. "I took shameful advantage of your trust,"
he admits. "But I was rather desperate to get us safely off that plane,
and you were being stubborn." 

 I narrow my eyes at him. "Admit it, Ben, you didn't know for sure that
we'd land all right." 

 He rubs his eyebrow, even though he's still laughing a little. "I was
moderately certain." 

 "You didn't know." 

 "I felt strongly that we would." 

 "You didn't know." 

 "It was our best chance." 

 "You didn't know." 

 He's laughing again. "All right, I didn't know for sure." 

 "Thank you." I lean back against the couch cushions, satisfied. "I knew
it." 

 He shakes his head, still laughing. "At any rate, there will be a supply
plane in tomorrow, so we can catch a flight to Yellowknife. From there, we
can fly to Edmonton, and then to Chicago." 

 Going home sounds good to me. As long as Fraser's with me, anyway,
because I don't know what I'd have done if&well, if he hadn't promised me
that we'd work it out, if he hadn't reminded me that we've done it before.


 Christ, I'm a sap, and you know, I don't care. 

 I like it. 

 We make each other crazy sometimes, I know, and I get on his nerves and
he gets on mine, and we still have it going, we still have that one-two
punch, that duet going on. Only it's better now. Shake, bad guys, shake,
we're coming home. 

 "Ben." I taste his name again. "Listen, this may be kinda whacko, but
when we get back, you aren't still going to live in your office, are ya?
I'm not Vecchio any more, I get to be Stanley Raymond Kowalski again." 

 He's looking at me like he wonders where I'm going or how the two things
connect. "I know that, Ray." 

 I bump against his shoulder, thinking. Crack my neck. All tangled up with
bits of Fraser, that's me. "What would you think about maybe, ah, getting
a place together?" And then panic sets in, naturally, and I'm practically
holding my breath, biting my tongue to keep from taking it back. 

 But oh, wow, I'm glad I did because he nods seriously. "I think it would
be good to give that some serious consideration. But Ray, I don't want our
relationship to cause you difficulty." 

 "Hey, it's like the army, don't ask, don't tell." I'm practically
babbling. "You know, nobody's going to know, we've been doing this a while
and nobody knows except Stella, and she saw us away from work." 

 He thinks about that, nods. "We'll have to continue to be discreet, of
course." 

 "Of course." I bump against his shoulder again, get an arm wrapped around
me. "When we get back, we could move your stuff to the apartment." 

 "If you're sure your landlady won't object to Dief." He's giving me one
of those soft smiles that turn my bones to water. 

 "Hey, Dief's there a lot anyway, she likes him, I think." I feel almost
dizzy. Is it really this easy? 

 Looks that way. But I know, this is my life, something bad's got to
happen, and then I tell myself the hell with that shit, Fraser's part of
that life nIt is that easy. 

 Shake, bad guys, shake. The duet is coming home. 

End Edge of the World by anonymous co: JimPage363@aol.com

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