If It Aint Broke    If It Aint Broke by LynnZo

 Author's disclaimer: Spoilers: COTW, Odds 

  

 If It Aint Broke 

 M/M. 

 Rated R 

 SRK/BF  

 Notes: This story is M/M - if you don't know what that means or can't
handle the concept, hit that cute little "back" button right now. 

 Spoilers: COTW, Odds This is for the tight spaces challenge, although
they're not in any tight spaces they don't want to be in. The title is my
response to all the "fixit" stories out there. 

 Not that I have anything against Ray Vecchio; since this is all fantasy
anyway I think there's room for us all, though I'll admit I personally am
not sold on the whole Kowalski/Turnbull concept. This is a work of amateur
fiction, and not intended to blah blah blah. Don't sue me. It wouldn't be
at all entertaining. 

 Archive: DSRA OK, anywhere else, please ask first. 

 If It Aint Broke by: LynnZo@yahoo.com 

 "I can't go back, you know." 

 Ray Kowalski's abrupt statement startled Fraser. He looked up from where
he'd spent the last half hour poking their small campfire with a stick.
Ray met his gaze and held it, this was serious. 

 Ray continued, "Vecchio wants his life back. I have to disappear." 

 Fraser pondered this for a minute, and Ray gave him time to think. Fraser
had noticed that during the three weeks of their journey, Ray talked less
and listened more. During the day, whether walking or on the dog sled, Ray
at least needed all his air just to breathe. The cold winter winds were
bothering him less as he adjusted, of course, but Fraser still watched him
closely. When they rested around the campfire after dinner, as now, Ray
was generally more than half-asleep already. Tonight he was obviously
brooding. 

 "Surely Lt. Welch will reassign you?" Fraser offered helpfully. 

 Ray snorted, "Of course they'll reassign me, Fraser, that's not the
point." 

 Fraser blinked a little, uncomfortable with Ray's sudden intensity and
unwavering gaze, "Well, what IS the point, Ray? You don't want to return
to your old position?" 

 Ray looked away at last, and when he spoke again he sounded tired. "I
don't really have anything to return *to,* Fraser, I've worked undercover
since I made Detective. I've been stationed all over Chicago. The list of
places I can't show my face again grows every year." This last was said
with just a hint of his usual rueful grin. 

 "And now you want something different." 

 Ray looked back at him suddenly, "Yeah." 

 Fraser got the feeling he was missing something important. "Are you
saying you don't want to continue with the police force, Ray?" 

 Ray hunched his shoulders inside his sleeping bag. He'd taken to huddling
down in it every evening to sit by the fire, then just toppling over when
he was ready to sleep. It made him look about 12 years old, and although
he wouldn't admit it (if there was anyone around to ask, which there
wasn't, any more), Fraser liked to sit by the fire and watch Ray's face as
he slept. On the nights when it was so cold they zipped their sleeping
bags together for the extra warmth, he missed being able to watch the
other man fall asleep. It was always so sudden, awake and talking one
moment, sound asleep the next. 

 Involved in his own thoughts, Fraser nearly missed Ray's next comment. 

 "Maybe. I mean, no. I mean, being a cop is all I know how to do. I
just... I dunno. What about you? What are you going to do?" 

 Fraser squirmed, as much as was possible for a man dressed in several
thermal layers and sitting on a log. He looked down at the fire, then away
into the small grove of fir trees they'd found as a meager shelter for the
night, "Well, Ray, I hadn't really thought about it. I've been so happy to
be home..." 

 There was a pause, Fraser noticed that Ray was still looking at him
expectantly, and shifted again. Not for the first time, he wished his
father was still around. 

 "I don't know what you expect me to say, Ray. I never intended to stay in
Chicago as long as I did. Now that I'm home, I don't want to leave." 

 "So that leaves us both up a creek without a paddle." 

 Fraser jumped right on that, "Well, Ray, there are no creeks here and..."
then noticed Ray's grin and stopped mid-sentence. 

 "You know, you could stay in Canada." It slipped out before Fraser could
edit it, and he sat very still for a moment, even the fire-poking stick
held suspended in the air. He nearly held his breath, and somehow it
became impossible to look up at Ray, just now. 

 Ray shook his head, "I haven't seen any American Consulates around here,
Fraser, know what I mean? And somehow I don't think the RCMP would want me
running around up here on my own." 

 Fraser thought about this for a long minute. Ray was right. With his
rough-and-ready methods, he wouldn't exactly be welcomed by the RCMP. But
then, he himself was not likely to be welcomed back, at least not back at
his old posting. Memories of Gerard would scarcely have faded in just
three years, and Fraser was tiring of waiting. Finally he looked up and
took a deep breath. "Security guards." 

 Ray blinked at him and made a show of looking around, "Security guards?
Where?" 

 "No, Ray," typically patient. "If it comes down to that, we could be
security guards. There are towns. Towns have banks. Banks hire security
guards. Perhaps it wouldn't be the most interesting of jobs, but it would
be employment." 

 Ray nodded his head. "Yeah. Security guards it is." He glanced up at
Fraser briefly, then settled himself for sleep. "Thanks, Fraser." 

 "For what, Ray?" Fraser watched as Ray settled himself on the ground for
sleep. Ray didn't answer, just grinned up at him again. 

 "'Night, partner." 

 "Good night, Ray." 

 

 A few days later, they'd stopped in a small town to spend the night
inside for once, and to pick up a few supplies. Their small room in the
town's one inn had twin beds, and a bathroom down the hall that was
palatial compared to what they'd become used to on their journey. Even
Fraser admitted to enjoying the luxury of a hot shower. 

 Fraser awoke very early, well before dawn. He checked instinctively for
Ray as soon as his eyes opened, and was surprised to find Ray's bed empty.


 "What is it, Ray?" Fraser lifted his head from the bed and peered over at
him, standing by the window. It wasn't cold enough in the room to see your
breath, but Ray was puffing on the window and drawing pictures on the
glass with his finger. The darkness outside certainly prevented him from
seeing out. 

 Ray jumped. He looked over at Fraser, almost guiltily. "I can't sleep.
Don't you ever have any trouble sleeping?" 

 Fraser sat up quickly, blinking at the abrupt attack. "Well, Ray, I..."
he got out before Ray was talking again. 

 "Never mind, Fraser." I just... Go back to sleep." 

 "Ray. Tell me." 

 Ray glanced at him, then back at the patterns he had been drawing on the
windowpane. With a furious sweep of his hand, he obliterated them and
pushed off the wall to pace impatiently around the room. "I just can't
sleep, you know? It's just so quiet here. How can you sleep?" 

 "Ray, I admit it's quieter inside a building than sleeping out in the
open, but I would have thought you would be enjoying this for a change." 

 Ray gave him a desperate glance and grabbed his pants from the dresser.
I'll be back." He shoved his legs in the pants and pulled them up. There
was a night light burning in the hall, Fraser watched as his partner was
backlit for a moment as he stepped out the door. Ray looked... Well, he
looked nearly frantic. 

 Fraser stayed where he was. It seemed a long time until Ray returned, and
when he did he closed the door gently behind him and stood still in the
dark a minute, getting his bearings before he headed back towards the two
twin beds. To Fraser's surprise he snatched the pillow off his bed to
throw it on the floor. "Maybe it's the bed. Too comfortable. Good night,
Fraser." With this, he threw himself down on the floor between the twin
beds, narrowly missing Fraser's feet, and sighed loudly. 

 Fraser couldn't help a smile. He lay back down on his own bed and peered
over the side at Ray. "Ray. You'll never be comfortable there." 

 Ray turned his back, pointedly. "Go to sleep, Fraser." 

 "You can sleep in my bed, Ray. Perhaps it's less comfortable than yours,"
Fraser offered. 

 Ray gave a strangled laugh and sat back up. He pulled up his knees and
rested his forehead on them for a long moment. Finally he seemed to come
to some sort of decision. "All right, Fraser. Coming up." 

 Before Fraser could untangle his legs from the light sheet, Ray was next
to him, pillow and all. With his bed next to the wall, this effectively
trapped Fraser, which didn't seem to bother Ray one bit. He stuck his legs
under the sheet and sighed deeply. "Thanks, Fraser." Low voice, serious
voice, the one that always made Fraser feel like he'd said exactly the
right thing for his changeable partner's mood. 

 Fraser, hesitated a moment, then simply lay back down and closed his
eyes. Even in the warmth of the room, he could feel the heat pouring off
Ray's body, a scent that was uniquely Ray, nearly masked just now with the
strong floral scent of the soap provided in the bathroom. The smell, the
warmth, seemed to reach out and surround him with an almost physical touch
on his skin. Fraser wanted nothing more than to shed his longjohns in the
heat. He tried to shut this thought firmly out of his mind, but the longer
he lay there not thinking about it, the more it appealed. Sleeping in the
open, he took his partner's body heat for granted. The times they slept
together, body heat was the reason, and he welcomed Ray's warmth as a sign
that his partner was safe. Tonight, though... 

 He turned his head, cautiously looking over at Ray. The other man's even
breathing indicated he'd fallen asleep, and Fraser couldn't help smiling
at how quickly he'd relaxed, as soon as... Fraser stared fixedly at the
back of Ray's head. As soon as he'd laid down beside himself - Fraser lay
there beside his sleeping partner and thought about that until morning. 

 The next day was spent acquiring supplies, seeing after the dogs, and
talking with the locals about the next place to look for Franklin. They
planned to leave the following morning, and as they readied for bed Ray
took the pillow off his own bed, and threw it onto Fraser's without a
word. Fraser swallowed hard. "Ray." 

 Ray interrupted him, something he hadn't done all day. "Banks," he said,
pulling his sweater off over his head. "We didn't find any banks. If we're
gonna be security guards, we gotta start looking for banks." 

 He was grinning at Fraser, who stood staring at him blankly. By now, Ray
was down to the t-shirt and boxers, and was shedding his socks. Fraser
caught himself before Ray noticed the stare, and quickly got under the
sheet. Ray joined him, still grinning, and turned away to settle himself
in the small bed. "'Night, Fraser." 

 "Good night, Ray." Fraser felt Ray's warmth envelop him, as it had the
night before, and fervently hoped he would be able to sleep. Walking
around town hadn't been enough exertion to tire him physically, and in a
soft bed, in a warm room, well, his body was letting him know what it
wanted...Ray. All day, at the back of his mind, he remembered, Ray had
needed to be next to him to sleep. Did this mean...? Fraser stopped
himself firmly. Sleep. 

 An hour later he was still awake, the scent of Ray's body now seemed to
be inside his own skin, driving his arousal higher every minute. If he
didn't get out of here, he was going to embarrass himself, or attack his
partner, and neither was possible in Fraser's carefully ordered world. As
softly as he could, he turned on his side away from Ray, and prepared to
slide down to the end of the bed and out. 

 Ray's eyes opened when Fraser turned. This wasn't normal. Fraser never
tossed and turned. Could the Mountie be having trouble sleeping? With a
triumphant grin, he spooned himself against Fraser's back. "What?" he
murmured drowsily. 

 Fraser stilled suddenly. "I didn't mean to wake you." 

 Ray, still half asleep, nuzzled his face against the back of Fraser's
neck. Fraser didn't move a muscle. Ray came more awake, "Whassa matter,
Fraser, now you can't sleep?" 

 Fraser could feel Ray's smile against the back of his neck. It didn't
make his current predicament any easier, harder was a better word for it.
He swallowed quickly, best not to think of that just now. He moved his
head carefully, trying not to be too obvious about pulling away from Ray.
"Well, um, yes, actually. Excuse me." 

 Ray didn't move, if anything, the arm that now rested on Fraser's waist
tightened fractionally. "Fraser? You sick?" He lifted his head and peered
in the darkness, trying to see Fraser's face. 

 For a fleeting moment, Fraser considered pretending to be sick, anything
to get up and away from the solid warmth at his back. But his innate
honesty had him answering before the impulse to lie could even be
considered, "No. I never get sick." 

 "Then stay put. Close your eyes and relax." Ray was smiling again, Fraser
could hear it in his voice and, even more dangerously, could feel it, as
Ray snuggled up to the back of his neck again. Fraser tried hard not to
squirm, not to pant, but the pressure in his groin was growing and he
wasn't sure how much longer he could take this. "Ray..." he began, then
froze. 

 Slowly, so gently he might have missed it if he'd been wearing more than
his red longjohns, Ray's hand was sliding down his waist. Ray drew a deep
breath behind him and his breath tickled Fraser's neck. Fraser suppressed
a shiver, just barely. Beyond his control, his neck arched just slightly
and Ray took advantage to snuggle even closer against him. Caught between
the hand now resting on his hip and the lips now nuzzling behind his left
ear, Fraser moaned, "Ray..." 

 That smile again, he could feel it. If Ray only knew what that smile did
to his racing pulse! But then, pressed so closely behind him, Fraser began
to suspect Ray did know. A gasp now, "Ray?" 

 Still no answer, but the hand on his hip firmed a bit, and began, still
slowly, to slide forward. An inch, then two, and that voice in his ear was
whispering softly, so softly that Fraser nearly missed it, "Is that a
'Ray, yes' or a 'Ray, no'? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, Fraser, if it's 'no'
say it now." 

 Fraser's head tossed from side to side, he didn't answer, couldn't
answer, he was trying desperately to get enough oxygen to speak. He was
hard, so hard, he could feel himself leaking, and Ray's hand was moving
closer. He had to stop, stop now, but before he could get enough breath to
speak, Ray was moving again, tucking his hips into Fraser's and then his
hand reached its destination and Fraser was lost. His hips were thrusting
helplessly into Ray's warm, knowing fingers. Even through the fabric of
the longjohns the touch was hot, so hot, and then Ray was pushing against
him from behind, his own erection tight against Fraser's ass, and his hand
eased the buttons straining against the front of the longjohns and
burrowed inside. Somehow Fraser's hand was locked tightly onto Ray's
wrist, holding him in place, and with the first touch of those fingers on
his bare flesh, Fraser was coming, coming, with a hoarse cry that echoed
around the tiny room. 

 He couldn't breathe. With the wall in front of him and Ray's body so
tight against his back, Fraser couldn't seem to get enough air. He gasped
for breath and moaned as Ray carefully released his cock from his tight
grasp. Air, he needed air. 

 Ray moved his hand back to Fraser's waist, eased his body back a bit and
waited for Fraser to come back to himself. "Geez, Fraser. You were that
close?" he said, marveling. 

 Fraser gave a little laugh, "Well, I *wasn't* Ray, until..." 

 "Until I touched you?" 

 Fraser could feel Ray's smile on the skin at the back of his neck. Could
feel it, actually, all the way down to his toes. He groaned, a loud sound
in the tiny room, and felt Ray's smile grow into a chuckle. "Well, that
answers that question, anyway," Ray whispered into his ear. Then,
obviously deciding his Mountie had had enough of a rest, he slid his hand
to the neckline of Fraser's red longjohns and began unbuttoning them. "I
can't believe you let Lady Shoes wear your underwear. You have no idea
what you put me through, Fraser." 

 "Well, as I said, Ray, I have several pair..." Fraser was aware his
response was weak, but with Ray's hands on his body he felt it was a
little unfair to expect rational discourse. He put a hand up to stop Ray's
progress but somehow his fingers were tangling with the other man's and
then he was helping and the longjohns were open completely and Ray was
taking advantage to sweep his hand the full length of Fraser's torso. Why
wasn't there any air in this room? And why were they both wearing so many
clothes? Clothes. Lady Shoes. 

 Fraser thought about that for a second, then stopped Ray's movements by
the simple expedient of rolling over on him, trapping Ray under his back. 

 Ray oofed, although he did take advantage of the shift in position to
sweep Fraser's longjohns down his arms, baring his shoulders. "Hey,
Fraser, you're kinda heavy," he protested, half- laughing. 

 Fraser shucked his arms out of the longjohns impatiently and turned over
in the tiny bed, holding Ray beneath him. He reached over with his right
hand and clicked on the bedside lamp. Ray lay obediently still, blinking a
little in the sudden light. "What?" he demanded, looking up at Fraser
curiously. 

 "I want to see you," Fraser said, his mind clearly focused elsewhere. "I
think she called the FBI, Ray." 

 Ray glanced around the room, "Who? Here?" 

 "No, Ray, Lady Shoes. I think she called the FBI that night. That's how
they knew where to find us." 

 Ray shrugged his shoulders as best he could, weighted down as he was with
one considerably sized Mountie. "Yeah? I kinda figured they followed me
that night, so what?" 

 The movement of his slender shoulders caught Fraser's attention. Ray was
still wearing too many clothes. He reached one hand suddenly to the bottom
of Ray's t-shirt. Ray gasped, and flinched a little when Fraser grasped it
firmly and tugged it up over his head. It was still tangled in Ray's arms
when Fraser continued, "If they had followed you, why would they have
waited until after the sketch artist had finished before they made their
presence known? I think she called them when she went to, uh, bed in my
office. They arrived a few minutes later." 

 Ray freed his arms and glared up at Fraser, "Is there a *point,* here
Fraser? Cause if not, I'd kinda like to get back to what we were doing
before, you know?" 

 Fraser looked down at him blankly. Ray sighed, and tried to focus. "Okay,
Fraser, she called the FBI, but that doesn't make any sense. She had to
know they'd take her back downtown, and no way was she ready to leave, you
know? Not after she'd gotten into your underwear." 

 Fraser smiled suddenly, "Ray. Not everybody has the same fascination that
you have with my underwear." 

 Ray snorted, "You're telling me she *didn't* make a pass at you? 'Cause I
don't believe it." 

 Fraser frowned a bit, "Well, she did give me a back massage. I hurt my
back when I fell out of the window, you remember." 

 "She gave you a back massage? When?!" Ray demanded, his attention caught
at last. 

 "Just before you arrived, Ray. I had to ask her to, uh, stop so I could
answer the door." 

 Ray pushed himself up in the bed and rested his back against the
headboard. "You're telling me that you're alone in the building with Lady
Shoes, she's in your underwear giving you a back massage, and you stop and
*answer the door?!*" 

 Fraser looked a little wounded, although whether it was from the
accusatory tone in Ray's voice or the loss of his body contact, it was
hard to tell. Still, he used this opportunity to pull his longjohns off
the rest of the way, and to toss them on the floor next to Ray's discarded
t- shirt. "Wouldn't you have answered the door?" 

 Ray threw up both his hands, "Not a chance, Fraser, not a chance." 

 "Not even if you knew it was me?" 

 "Fraser! You didn't know it was me!" 

 "I had an idea, Ray. You were a little, well, concerned about my inviting
her to stay at the Consulate." 

 Ray thought about this for a minute as he took in the sight of Fraser's
body, bared now and gleaming in the soft lamplight. Whatever. He was here
now, and she was, well, wherever she was. He gasped when Fraser reached
out a hand to caress his hip, still covered in the boxer shorts, which by
now were almost painfully tight. 

 "Would you answer the door now, Fraser?" 

 Fraser seemed to have lost interest in the discussion. He stretched out
his thumb, perilously near Ray's straining erection, and gave a wicked
smile when Ray pushed up against his hand. 

 Ray persisted, "If Lady Shoes were to knock on the door right now, would
you answer?" 

 Fraser slipped one arm around the back of Ray's hips and pulled him back
down in the bed until his lips were in reach. He took his time, settling
himself comfortably with almost his full weight resting on his partner's
body. He smiled when Ray gasped and thrust against him, and reveled in the
hot press of Ray's erection against his own hip. 

 Holding his gaze, Fraser slowly leaned in for a kiss, making the moment
last until he was not a centimeter away. "Not a chance." Then he kissed
him. 

 --end--