Once in a Lifetime	    Once in a Lifetime

 by LadyAna

  

 Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/ladyanasslashsite/

 Disclaimer: Copyright to Alliance.

 Author's Notes: I never did believe that "even steven" crap. Hitting the
Mountie with a bedpan is more like it. 

 Story Notes: I can't keep score of all the spoilers I use!

 

 

 "Once in a Lifetime."
 By LadyAna 

 The climb up the three flights was a challenge, but it wasn't as bad as
Fraser thought it would be and made the journey without assistance. It was
only out of sheer insistence was he able to make the trek alone. At the
top of the stairs, however, he felt dizzy and gripped the banister to
steady himself. He tried to hide the fatigue from his shadow, but it was
too late. 

 "Benny! Stay right there!" 

 Veccho dropped the bags right outside #3J and was at Fraser's side in an
instant, even though Ray's right arm was still stiff from the gunshot
wound. He wore the sling only when he absolutely had to, which usually was
from much bickering from his mom or the Mountie. The Constable closed his
eyes, suppressing a sigh as the cop steered him towards his apartment. He
could not, however, allow Ray to continue the guilty vigil he'd started
ever since the Mountie awoke in the hospital after running for the train
to reach Victoria. It all seemed like a lifetime ago, even though the
events which almost ended everything for him, occurred only seven weeks
beforehand. 

 "Ray, Please. I'm just a little winded. I can make it on my own. You know
what Miss Kennedy said." 

 The Detective released his friend's arm to let him walk unaided. "Oh, I
know what she said, alright!" His voice dropped to almost a mutter. "She
doesn't know everything." 

 The Mountie glanced at his partner, feeling every muscle in his body
still fully getting use to walking on his own. "How do you mean, Ray? She
seemed very competent and knowledgeable in her field." 

 "Yeah, I guess. Here, let me get the door." 

 The Italian whipped around the Mountie to unlocked the new deadbolt on
the door. Fraser looked at his friend questioningly. 

 "Hey! I sometimes keep a change of clothes here! Do you know how much my
suits are worth? Your stuff they wouldn't even take if you gave it away,
but I ain't lettin' nobody near my Armani." 

 The Canadian decided against debating the issue, since he knew Ray
probably feared Victoria's return, however unlikely. As Ray saw to the
bags, Fraser walked into the apartment and the overwhelming smell of
cleaning solutions practically knocked him over. The Mountie looked around
and noticed the place had been scrubbed and polished and cleaned to near
sterility. He furrowed his brow, not understanding why Ray, or anyone else
for that matter, would have his apartment stripped of every last portion
of dirt. A cruel chill reminded him exactly why someone, and that someone
mainly being Ray, would want to remove any evidence of The Intruder.
Flashes of the Vecchio house in utter ruin came to him, as did the sea of
white candles in his own apartment. 

 All of which Ray would've had to take care of...alone. 

 If Fraser learned anything from this experience, it was that regret was a
poison, just as lethal as any bullet. It was time to try to make amends.
He'd start small, then work his way up to his biggest mistakes, even ones
that happened after he fell from the platform. Because if what he'd been
told was true, if his own observations were correct, if he actually had
another chance, then he had a Hell of a lot of apologizing to do. 

 After winning the round of allowing him to climb the steps alone, Fraser
made his way towards his cot, knowing Ray would insist he lay down anyway.
Perhaps it was the aspirin Vecchio made him take or it could have been the
tiny breakfast he'd eaten or maybe the exertion was taking a greater toll
than he thought. Whatever the reason, as the Mountie sat on the bed, he
said, "I'm sorry, Ray..." The Constable looked up to see Ray's back turned
to him, still bent over the suitcase and duffle bags, seemingly frozen,
but that did not stopped Fraser from completing his sentence, "for the
state of the apartment when you came back, as well as what I did to you
home." 

 Once again, he glanced up, only to see Ray still turned mostly away, but
now staring him utterly fuddled. Vecchio gasp the words out, the sentence
broken, his voice rising in a panic, "You're... apologizing?! For what you
did...to the HOUSE?!" 

 Vecchio turned away, mouth slightly agape. His trembling hand camp up to
cover his stunned face and he reached for the kitchen table for support.
Seeing he'd made a grave error, the Mountie tried again, "Ray, I'm-", but
the cop briskly waved him off, while still covering his eyes. 

 "Don't..." Vecchio said quietly. The cop seemed unsteady at first,
weaving just a tad. Visibly, he was having a hard time controlling
himself, afraid to make a move of any kind. 

 The Mountie tried again, hoping to ease his friend's pain, "I didn't mean
to-" 

 Ray dropped his hand and from across the room, Fraser could see wrath,
i.e. pure anger in those honey-jade eyes. "Just...give me five minutes,
okay? Five minutes...of you NOT being the one to save the damsel in
distress..." Vecchio turned and came towards him like a charging bull, but
in slow motion, barely restrained, nigh violence. "...from saving a bird
on the roof of an abandoned building that's on fire!" The Detective stood
right in front of him, fists clenched to the point of pain, as he ground
out, "Five minutes away from you trying to save the day, save the world
and everyone in it! Do you hear me?! FIVE MINUTES!" 

 Ray stomped off, aiming for the door, but could not open it because the
brand new deadbolt wouldn't work. After two frantic attempts, Vecchio
suddenly punched the door with all of his strength and Fraser cringed,
hearing the snapping of bone on impact. Ray managed to crack the wood,
breaking a knuckle in the process. In total awe, Fraser silently watched
as Vecchio looked at his injured left hand, unbelieving of what he'd just
done. He slowly backed away as if the door had just become a monster...and
practically fell on the floor while blindly reaching for a kitchen chair. 

 The Italian loosely covered his face with both hands. It was the softest
he'd heard anyone ever cry and Fraser had to stifle his surprise at
hearing the other's man's grief. Slowly, with supreme effort, he stood, as
quietly as he could and made his way over to Ray. Pulling up a chair in
front of his friend, Fraser's heart suddenly chilled, realizing he'd
totally disregarded his partner's impassioned "five-minute-alone" request.
But he simply could not sit there and listen to Ray pour out his soul into
his hands...alone. 

 "I was wrong." The Mountie said...and there was a surge in Ray's soft
weeping. "I thought I could rectify my mistakes verbally. I should have
realized nothing I could ever say...could...." 

 He stopped, unable to continue. 

 It was but a moment before Ray wiped furiously at his eyes with his half
good, right hand, stared at the floor and said, "I know, Benny. I
just...lost it. What you said...it just took me by surprise, that's all." 

 It was clear Ray was searching for something, anything to say other than
his own apology, for which Fraser could not blame him. Ray did not have a
single thing to be sorry for. Apologies were something said if the
infraction had aim, if the insult was to wound, if the neglect was
intentional. Sure, one could say they were sorry if they spilled coffee on
you or made your eggs wrong. One could not ask for such justification if
the intent was meant to save one's life. 

 However, in direct contrast to that information, Fraser also acknowledged
there were some misdeeds which forfeited any right to offer regret. Action
was his only recourse to mending the agony that he and Victoria created.
He was shot while running to his doom. On Ray's part, it was a mishap that
went way beyond any spoken request for forgiveness. And Fraser had no
foundation to ask for it. How could he, after the numerous deeds he'd
committed without thought or regard or consideration? 

 "I know." The Mountie replied. It was the most bizarre sensation of deja
vu. It took only a fraction of a second to remember Ray saying those exact
words to him after his own confession. He owed this man. Whatever the
truth, he was indebted to him. He heard himself saying, "How long?" 

 "How long, what?" Vecchio said, still not fully meeting Fraser's eyes. 

 "How long...have you felt this way?" 

 Finally, Ray looked at Fraser, leery and uncertain. Timidly, the Italian
asked, "What do you mean?" 

 The inquiry held a double meaning, one Fraser saw immediately. Vecchio
was afraid and was hoping against hope the Canadian did not know the
secret. The Mountie never let his gaze stray from Ray's, as he gently
extended his arm and wiped away the remnants of a tear, cupping Ray's
face, then his chin, in a delicate caress. The entire gesture was to ease
Ray's anxiety, to tell his friend he was not repulsed by the notion. The
Canadian let his eyes drop from that dazed face, saying, "I had no idea." 

 Ray grunted a dark laugh. "Neither did I, really." He shrugged. "Believe
it or not, it was Miss Kennedy who got me to thinking about it." 

 "You're kidding." the Canadian stuttered. 

 Brow furrowed, Ray asked, "No...why?" 

 "Because she said the same thing to me." Fraser breathed, startled. 

 Half smiling now, Ray said, "Really?!" 

 "Yes. At first she wasn't sure, then after a while, she couldn't believe
that...you and I weren't...together." 

 Vecchio watched the floor again, his voice wavering as he spoke, "That's
what she said to me. I tried to tell her she was wrong, but she kept
insisting. Then, the more I thought about it, the more I..." He stopped,
unable to continue. He snuck a glance at Fraser, but he couldn't bring
himself to look fully into his friend's face. 

 "Me, too." said the Canadian, but the Italian still kept his eyes
elsewhere, not understanding the statement. He knew if he did not clarify
his intent, Ray would die inside. The Mountie raised his hand and softly
cradled Vecchio's broken one in his own. The joint was already swollen and
discolored. A slight crack in the skin was the only other visible damage.
As Ben lifted it, Ray hissed a little, more in anticipation of pain than
true suffering. Fraser slowed the ascent, tilting his head down further to
meet his target...and kissed the bruise. And Ray gasped. Unafraid, Fraser
lifted his eyes. He saw shock and fear and awe and he heard his name... 

 "Benny..." 

 He closed his eyes, leaning into the sweet touch of Ray's hand against
his cheek. It was the beginning of a lifelong task, to meet the
requirements of being absolved. Especially to someone he knew loved him
without danger or desperation or fear, someone who comes along once in a
lifetime. P.S. And yes, I did take the title from the song called, "Once
in a Lifetime" by The Talking Heads. 

End Once in a Lifetime by LadyAna: LadyAna5@aol.com

Author and story notes above.