closure	 Due South belongs to Alliance, as usual, I am just
borrowing them for awhile, with interest, mine of course. Minor spoilers
for Good For the Soul. Rated PG for some language. Death
Story/Angst/AU/H/C. 

By Amethyst  

CLOSURE 

 

         Ray Vecchio shrugged quickly into his suit jacket and finished
his coffee as the front door rang. Francesca Vecchio yelled that she would
answer it, and a moment later the Detective heard her purring a greeting
to Constable Benton Fraser. He rolled his eyes as Francesca practically
dragged the poor Canadian into the kitchen, both her arms wrapped around
him possessively. Diefenbaker trotted in beside them and immediately moved
to greet Ray. 
         "Hey, Furball." The Italian greeted the wolf affectionately,
bending slightly to scratch him behind the ears before scowling at his
sister. "Frannie, heel." She glared at him but released the flustered
Mounties's arm to go prepare a cup of tea. "I told ya I'd pick ya up,
Benny, why ya here so early?" 
         "Diefenbaker felt the urge for a good walk and we just ended up
here, Ray." Fraser shrugged with a small smile as Mrs. Vecchio entered the
kitchen, just as Ray was feeding the animal the remainder of the huge
breakfast that his mother had fixed him; he could never eat heavily before
work, but she insisted. 
         "Raimundo," she scolded and Fraser hid a smile, since he had been
about to do the same thing; he didn't approve of Diefenbaker's begging. 
         "Hey, Ma." Ray countered easily and carried his plate to the
sink. "Fraser never feeds him. I was just takin' pity on the poor guy." 
         "Ray, that isn't true!" Fraser denied indignantly. "I feed
Diefenbaker quite well enough, but you spoil him with all the extras you
give him throughout the day." 
         "Enough of such nonsense." Mrs. Vecchio charged and moved to the
stove. "Sit Bentino, have breakfast." 
         "Oh thank you kindly, Ma." Fraser declined graciously. "I ate
earlier this morning." That wasn't quite a lie, he had swallowed a piece
of toast with his cup of tea. 
         She paused in the process of filling a plate, then set it back on
the counter and snatched up one of her homemade cinnamon rolls from the
table. She walked over and stood before him defiantly, having to crane her
head to meet his gaze. 
         "Open." She demanded and Fraser complied. She placed the treat in
his mouth and patted his stomach. "You are too thin. You must eat more." 
         "Thank you." He replied, around the roll, biting off a delicious
piece and pulling the remainder form his mouth. 
         "Gotta go, Ma." Ray insisted, draining his cup and setting that
in the sink, before starting to head out with his partner, who offered a
polite goodbye and called Diefenbaker away from the table. Her sharp call
brought them both back, so they could each kiss one of her cheeks
affectionately and she smiled approvingly. 
         "Raimundo!" Ray paused again as his mother hurried after him.
"Will you have time to take me to the market today?" 
         "Have Frannie take ya, Ma." He suggested, pulling out his wallet
and handing her some bills. "I don't know when I'll get time. I got a full
case load." He opened the door and noticed that Fraser had shoveled the
walkway. "Benny, ya gotta quit doin' dat. Tony was supposed ta do dat
yesterday." 
         "The shovel was there, Ray, and it needed to be done." Fraser
countered. "I don't mind doing it and I wouldn't want someone to slip and
hurt themselves." Ma Vecchio smiled and pulled them both down for a quick
hug. 
         "Such fine, strong young men I have to take care of me and my
children." She smiled proudly, then to Ray.  "Do not work so hard, caro,"
she warned, patting his cheek, then doing the same to Fraser, who was
putting on his hat. "You either, my darling." 
         "Have a good day, Ma," Fraser offered as Ray waved and they
headed toward the Riv. She waved at them and went inside. 
  
  

         Ray smirked at his partner Constable Benton Fraser, who had
started on a story about seals and an otter pelt, his ear only half tuned
to what the Canadian was saying. His cell phone rang and he pulled it out
of his pocket, answering it with his usual smooth greeting. 
         "Vecchio, talk to me babe." Fraser paused in the telling of his
tale as he watched the Italian grow pale and his hands started to shake.
"I'll be right dere." He slammed off the phone and grabbed his jacket. 
         "What is it, Ray," Fraser inquired, quickly following his friend
out of the precinct. 
         "Ma and Frannie were in an accident," Ray muttered as he climbed
behind the wheel of the Rivera and Ray peeled out of the lot. 
         "Are they hurt badly?" 
         "I don't know." Ray replied grimly, his knuckles showing white as
he gripped the steering wheel fiercely. "Tony called and told me they just
got the call themselves from a friend of theirs that works at the hospital
and recognized Frannie." He bit his lip and Fraser could tell his friend
was struggling to remain focused and calm enough to drive. "God! If
something happens ta dem, Benny, I...." he shook his head. 
         "I am sure they will both be fine, Ray," Fraser opted soothingly.
"We'll know more once we get to the hospital." Ray nodded and pressed the
accelerator. "In one piece would be preferable, Ray." Vecchio shot him a
glance then nodded and slowed down to a more respectable speed. He
wouldn't be much help to his family if he ended up in an accident himself,
and they'd both kill him if Fraser was hurt due to his panic. He smirked
slightly and concentrated on the road ahead. 

  
         "I'm Ray Vecchio," the detective introduced quickly at the
nurse's station. "My Mother and sister were just brought in?" The nurse
glanced at her information chart, then her eyes rose in a sympathetic
gaze. 
         "If you will just wait over there in waiting room three, Sir, I
will send the doctor out." 
         "What about my family," Ray demanded. "Where are dey? Can't ya
tell me..." 
         "I'm afraid I can't, Sir," she returned. "They were brought into
the ICU unit. The doctor will know more." 
          Ray looked like he wanted to protest more, but Fraser's hand on
his shoulder prevented it. He allowed the Mountie to guide him to the
privacy room the nurse had indicated and moved inside. A few minutes later
a tall, dark haired man in his thirties, still in his surgery greens,
entered. 
         "Mr. Vecchio," he inquired and Ray moved toward him instantly. 
         "Yah," he confirmed. "I'm Ray Vecchio. How's my mother and my
sister? Are dey gonna be okay? Did they say what happened?" The doctor
lowered his eyes for a brief moment, his eyes going over Ray's head to the
Mountie behind him, then back to Ray. 
         "Witnesses say that a driver ran a red light and slammed into the
passenger side of your sister's car as they were traveling through the
intersection. Another car hit them coming from the opposite lane as they
spun into on-coming traffic." The doctor informed. "I don't know all the
details, but the police have made out a report that you can see later.
Right now we have to deal with the extent of your sister's injuries, which
I'm afraid are quite serious." 
         "So my Ma's okay den," Ray asked slightly relieved. "How bad is
Frannie?" 
         "Mr. Vecchio," the doctor began gently. "Your sister is in
critical condition. I am afraid Mrs. Vecchio died at the scene." Ray
stared at him. 
        He couldn't have heard him correctly; it must be a mistake. Did he
just say that Frannie was seriously hurt but Ma....Ma was dead? He shook
his head and stumbled backwards as an unsteady feeling swept over him,
feeling the comforting arm of Benton Fraser who was beside him instantly. 
         "Oh God," he whispered, then released an anguished cry as he
slumped against the wall, Fraser barely keeping him from falling to the
floor. "Jesus Christ! OoohhhhhhGoooodddd!" 
         Fraser stayed beside him, one arm around his shoulders, the other
keeping the Detective upright with an arm anchored at his waist, as Ray's
body was racked with painful sobs. The Italian was grateful for his
partner's support, and he leaned into his Fraser's embrace as the tears
continued to fall. Fraser struggled to keep his own emotions in place. No
point in both of them falling apart. He had to be strong for Ray. 
         "Ray," Fraser murmured gently as he rocked him in his arms. The
doctor gave them some privacy to voice their grief. Fraser's voice was
thick with unshed tears. "You have to think about Francesca now. It's very
important that we concentrate on getting her well again." 
         "Oh God, Benny," Ray cried mournfully. "Oh God, not Ma. Not my
Mother." 
         "I know, Ray," the Mountie soothed. He heard the sounds of
footfalls from outside, rushing toward their room. Knowing Ray would not
wish to be caught in this state, despite his despair, he pulled away from
his partner slightly and handed the grief-stricken Italian his
handkerchief. "You have to concentrate on your family now, Ray." 
         The detective nodded, beholden to his friend for being the voice
of reason, and quickly wiped his face and cleared his throat. 
         "Ray," Maria called from the doorway as she and Tony rushed into
the waiting room. 
          Fraser watched his friend straighten automatically, pocket the
handkerchief that he would no doubt return later, and turn to the window
for a moment longer to compose himself before facing his anxious sister
and brother-in-law. He took a step toward her and she took a step
backwards, clutching her purse to her chest as if trying to ward off some
insurmountable evil. 
         "Maria...." Ray encouraged quietly as Maria started shaking her
head back and forth, her eyes wide with terror as she witnessed the
sadness she saw reflected back from her brother's emerald eyes. 
         "No," she whispered fearfully, shaking Tony off even as he tried
to comfort her. "No!" 
         "Come here, baby," Ray offered, with just the barest tremble in
his voice and his sister numbly stepped into his embrace. 
         "Tell me," she demanded. "Who...?" 
         "Ma's gone, sweetheart," Ray whispered and Fraser closed his eyes
as the Italian woman's cry echoed around them. 
         Maria beat on her brother's chest viciously and Ray closed his
eyes, withstanding her tantrum as she called him a liar, a beast, and
brought a string of Italian curses down upon his head. Finally she slumped
against him, her anger spent and only her grief left to run its course as
she cried on his shoulder. Tony stepped forward, and Ray gently
transferred his sister into her husband's waiting arms, then brushed at
his eyes and stepped toward the doctor, who had discretely entered. 
         "I want ta see my sister," he demanded, resuming his role as head
of the Vecchio family. "Then my Mother." The doctor nodded and opened the
door. "Fraser, will you...?" 
         "Coming, Ray," Fraser returned quietly and followed his partner
out. The doctor briefed them on Francesca's condition as they walked down
the long white corridor toward the ICU unit. 
         "She has suffered trauma to her skull, a fracture on the left
side and some severe lacerations on the right portion of her face. Her
left arm is broken, her pelvic bone is fractured where the second vehicle
hit her side of the car. She has internal injuries as well, but we cannot
perform another surgery until we are sure we can stop the bleeding." 
         "What are her chances," Ray asked as they stopped outside the
room. 
         "Quite honestly, Detective, it is all up to the man upstairs
right now and how much fight your sister has in her," The doctor informed
and Ray nodded. 
         "Frannie's Italian. She slugged the doctor fer havin' cold hands
when he delivered her," he stated fondly, with the barest hint of praise
in his voice. Fraser almost smiled, knowing how difficult it was for Ray
to attempt humor in such a tragic situation. 
         "Please be prepared. Your sister's injuries are not pretty, but
are remarkably mild considering what she could have suffered," The doctor
assured. "If she had not been wearing her seat belt, she would have never
made it to the hospital." 
         Ray nodded and pushed the door inward to step inside the room.
Fraser noticed his partner's hand moving backwards in a silent plea for
him to follow, and Fraser could not help but move his hand forward to link
their fingers. Ray needed all his support right now. 
         The patient that was offered as Francesca Vecchio looked nothing
like the vibrantly beautiful young woman that both men knew. This weak,
pathetic form held no fiery color in her cheeks or outrageous pink to her
lips. She was pale, garishly small against the stark white sheets. Her
head was wrapped all the way around and one side of her face held multiple
bandages. 
         Her left arm was in a cast and mechanical brace, keeping her from
moving it. There was a high thick collar around her tiny neck that seemed
entirely too large and uncomfortable for such a small woman to have to
wear. The heart monitors and other medical machinery made rhythmic sounds
and the pump of an attached respirator continued to inflate and deflate
with her shallow breathing. 
         "My God, Benny," Ray exclaimed in a shocked whisper, his grip
tightening in the Mounties's hand. "She looks so...so frail." 
         Fraser had been thinking the same thing. He had felt as though
the wind had been completely knocked from him and had barely caught
himself before allowing an audible gasp to escape. Never had he envisioned
this beautiful woman, whose strength he had come to admire, so incredibly
defenseless. 
         "Francesca is a strong woman, Ray," Fraser reminded, finally
finding his voice. "I am sure she will get through this, if any one can."
Ray nodded and released Fraser's hand to lean down and gently kiss his
baby sister's forehead. 
         "You hear that, sis," he whispered tenderly. "Even Benny's
rootin' fer ya, baby. You gotta pull through this, okay?" 
         Fraser blinked away the sudden moisture in his eyes and rested a
supportive hand on his partner's shoulder. Somehow, they all would pull
through this. 
  

         Ray walked into the room where they told him his mother lay, a
sheet drawn respectively over her face, and felt himself start to tremble
as he moved closer. Maybe, maybe it wasn't his Ma, maybe it was a mistake
and when he pulled the sheet back it would be someone else staring back at
him. That idea scared him as well, for he wouldn't be able to look into
his Mother's beautiful eyes and not see any of the vibrant, loving source
of life he had always found there. 
         He swallowed a few times, wishing now he had allowed Benny to
come with him, but he had asked the Mountie to stay with Francesca,
whether she knew he was there or not. Ray had to do this alone, he
understood that, but his feet seemed rooted to the floor. He couldn't help
the guilt that rose up inside him, thinking if only he had agreed to take
his mother to the market that day she might not be dead and Frannie
wouldn't be in a coma. He'd seen plenty of dead bodies before, this
shouldn't be so hard, because he firmly believed that was all that was
under that white sheet, a dead body. His mother had gone to her reward and
she was no longer in that body, so he should not be having such a problem
with this. 
         "Just breathe, Vecchio," he told himself, trying not to think of
when he had gone with his mother to identify his father's body many years
ago. 
         Ray hadn't yet made detective when his father drunkenly got
behind the wheel of his vehicle, after spending most of the day and
evening at Fanellie's, and crashed into a telephone pole, killing him
instantly. When Ray had heard the news of his father's death, he could
only remember offering a silent prayer that the bastard hadn't hit another
car or killed anyone but himself.  Joseph Vecchio wasn't exactly up for
Father of the Year at their house, and his oldest son had grown to hate
him over the years due to the misery the man had caused all of them. 
         He had been the strong comforting son for Ma, but had felt
nothing when they pulled open the drawer that held his father's body at
the morgue ; nothing, that is, but relief that the suffering had ended and
they could all start to rebuild their lives. His mother had taken it hard,
naturally, for the man was still her husband despite all the pain he had
caused her and her children. 
         Frannie probably got off the easiest. She was the youngest and
the apple of Pop's eye, until she eloped with that creep Donald at just
eighteen. She'd only known him less then a month and the marriage only
lasted about three weeks because the guy liked to hit women.  Ray and Tony
went to have a discussion with their new brother-in-law and he left town
the following day, after signing papers to grant Francesca a divorce. 
         Ray suspected his sister had eloped so quickly mainly to get out
of the house and away from their father's tyrannical abuse. Though Joe
never raised a hand to her, Ray understood her fear. How many times did he
see Frannie, still just an innocent young girl, cowering in the corner
while their father beat Ray or his younger brother Andrew within an inch
of their life in a drunken rage? Or witnessing the way Joseph Vecchio
belittled Maria and Ma for daring to speak back to him? 
             He smiled slightly, remembering a few times when Ma, tired of
the abuse her husband was issuing, threatened him with a meat cleaver if
he dared to lay a hand on their children again.  Then there was the pool
table incident, where Joe Vecchio had been banished from their house for a
few days before his wife relented to take him back. His mother was not a
weak woman, but she was a devout Catholic and traditionally Italian, so
she tried to stick to her place in the family as dictated by that culture.
But now and then even the sweetness in her would turn sour, and she would
have to push back. 
          Once Ray hit puberty he wasn't such an easy target for his
father's rage, for he quickly matched his father's height and strength,
and started to fight back. Andrew had been smart to take off. Aas soon as
he had graduated high school, he joined the priesthood and immediately
went overseas to aid third world countries. Ray had been tempted to join
his brother more then once, but the idea of giving up women forever hung
heavily on him, and he had been in love with Angie at the time, so he
continued with his dream to become a cop instead. 
          Ray also knew he had to stay to protect his family, especially
Francesca. After her failed marriage, she also became a target of their
father's rage. Ray knew his tiny sibling would never withstand such a
beating. In the end, he stopped fighting. To protect his family, he
allowed his father's rage to center on him and deliberately provoked him
when needed, to draw his attention away from the others. 
         In a way, he always felt slightly resentful of Frannie, simply
because she had never had to deal with what he and Maria did. But watching
the way she crawled up inside herself at times gave him pause. The
outspoken and argumentative side that Frannie showed the world was only
part of his sister's persona. 
         To this day, he knew she still spent hours alone in her room
crying or writing in her diary.  She avoided their father's study, which
was actually Ray's now, perhaps remembering that was where most of the
beatings took place. She often stayed out walking or driving in all kinds
of weather just to avoid going home. Their Father was no longer there, but
Francesca still seemed to feel his presence. Ray knew she had been scarred
as well. 
         With a final deep breath and shrugging off the past, he stepped
forward and carefully pulled the sheet back to stare down at his Mother's
serenely angelic face. He reached a shaking hand toward her and caressed
her pale cheek, relief flooding him that she hadn't been badly scarred or
disfigured by the accident.  She just looked like Ma, same as always, and
Ray felt tears prick his eyes as he continued to caress his Mother's cold
skin. 
          She looks like she's sleeping, he thought absently. Very much
like he remembered her looking when he caught her dozing on the living
room sofa after a long day of housework and cooking, or when they would
wake her up Christmas morning. He smiled a little, knowing his Mother had
been up cooking and filling stockings long before any of them, if she had
even gone to sleep the night before. 
          She would sneak back upstairs the moment she heard the scamper
of feet in the rooms above, then close her eyes and pretend she was
asleep. Then the Vecchio children would all throw open the door and
converged on her with kisses and hugs and Christmas wishes, and Ma would
act all surprised and try to thwart their efforts to get her up so they
could open their gifts. 
         Even Joseph would get into the act, tickling his children and
trying to save his wife from their captive arms. Joseph was always great
Christmas morning, but by early afternoon he would start drinking again.
Sometimes the festive spirit would last within him and he'd be hamming it
up and playing with the kid's toys and reading them stories.  Most times,
however, he would become moody and start snapping at them for making too
much noise. They would disperse to their rooms or a friend's home or
wherever to avoid further confrontation, unfortunately leaving Ma to deal
with her bastard husband. 
         Their father was a mean drunk, belligerent and cruel, but his
anger was always wasted on Ma because she would never get angry back. She
would just ignore him placidly and go about clearing up or knitting, which
only frustrated Joseph until he let the house to haunt a bar somewhere.
Even sober, the man was forever criticizing and berating the members of
his family. Look out for number one, that was his motto, no matter who you
stepped on. It was always about what could Joseph Vecchio get out of it. 
         Eventually, his mother would send Ray out to fetch their Father
and bring him home, though Ray personally wished he could just leave his
old man at Fanellie's or whichever pool hall or tavern he had ended up at
that night. Let him wake up on a dirty floor somewhere. But this was still
their Father and Ma's husband, so Ray would haul the inebriated Italian
home, were he and Ma would get the drunkard undressed and put to bed. The
next morning, everyone would pretend it didn't happen, as always. 
         Ray shook his head again, not wanting to think of his father. He
didn't want to soil his mother's memory by reliving the life of a man not
worth thinking about. He glanced down at his mother's soft face again and
found himself wishing she would open her eyes with surprise and delight,
just as she did so many Christmases ago. 
         "Oh Ma," he whispered as he fought to control his raging
emotions. "How are we gonna manage without you?" 
         Images of being held by warm, loving arms, and tender kisses to
soothe his many aches and pains as a child flooded him and he had to press
his lips together, hard enough that he could feel the imprint of his
teeth, to contain his misery. Through all the misery in his life, all the
trials and tribulations Ray had endured, his father, getting into trouble
with Frankie Zuko, women, his failed marriage, Ma was always there with
one of her special hugs and a plate of cookies and milk. 
         He smirked. Even as a grown man, he would turn to her when there
was no one else, and she would have the special meal ready for him. 
Eating was how Italians got through life. When everything else got you
down, eat. That was his Mother's credo. Ray was lucky he had a high
metabolism or he'd probably weigh three hundred pounds, or worse, look
like his brother-in-law Tony. 
          Although his Mother sometimes treated him like the shy little
boy he once was, she always respected his decisions as a man. That was all
Ray ever worked for, was his Mother's love and respect.  She used to rise
early, to make sure he had breakfast before he left, especially on the
days he had worked late the night before. 
         She called him three or four times a day at work to see how he
was doing, and above all, he was never to leave the house without giving
her a goodbye kiss or there would be hell to pay. She'd even gotten Benny
into the habit, which Ray though was very cool. Above all, Anna Vecchio
never failed to tell her son how proud she was of him and his profession,
for making the streets safer for those who could not defend themselves
against the evils of the world. 
         "Ti amore, Mamma. Scusare, mio," he suddenly sobbed, unable to
contain his despair any longer. As he lay his head across his Mother's
breast, like he did as a child, and hugged her, he wished with all that
was in him that his embrace could restore her life or that he could trade
places with her. He raised his head and kissed her forehead with trembling
softness. "Ti adoro, Angelo mio. I'm so sorry." 
  

         Fraser watched over Francesca Vecchio silently from his rigid
stance by the window. Ray had gotten her a private room and they had been
waiting four days now for the young woman to awaken, each taking turns by
her side. Though she had started breathing on her own and the doctors
informed them they had managed to stop the internal bleeding, the
anticipation was wearing thin on those waiting for her recovery. Ray had
stepped out for some coffee to wake himself up and Fraser had been staring
out at the rain, saying a silent prayer to whoever would listen that
Francesca would be all right. 
         He turned back toward the window and watched the drops slide down
the glass, pressing his fingers against the pane as if trying to catch
them and keep them from falling to the street below. Fraser hadn't had
much sleep the last few days, no more than his partner, anyway. Both men
were determined to be there in case Francesca woke up. Fraser went to work
early in the mornings, stayed until his shift ended at three, then headed
for the hospital where he would remain until well after midnight, before
he had to return to his apartment to shower and get ready for work again. 
         Ray Vecchio had taken some personal time to remain with his
sister and take care of the funeral arrangements for Mrs. Vecchio. A sharp
pain stabbed at the Mounties's chest, as it did every time he thought of
the loving woman who had been as close as a mother to him, and who he had
kissed goodbye just a few days ago, unaware it was for the last time. Ma
Vecchio had accepted Fraser as one of the family unconditionally, the day
Ray first brought him home to dinner. Fraser had been grateful for their
love and acceptance. 
         Having been an only child, Fraser was startled, and frankly a
little frightened, by the large Italian family that bickered with intense
anger one moment and were hugging and kissing with tender love and
affection the next. It was a contradiction to the Mountie and he found it
difficult to understand at first, but he stopped trying and accepted them
as they were. 
         Fraser glanced back at Francesca, lying so deathly still against
the pale white sheets of the hospital bed, despite the colorful afghan
Maria had brought from home to add a splash of color to her sister's bed.
He remembered the first time he'd met the pretty dark haired Italian, that
night he had come to dinner with Ray, and he could not get over how
stunningly beautiful Francesca Vecchio was. She had boldly inquired if he
had a girlfriend and Ray had pulled him away before he could respond
properly. 
         She was unlike anyone Fraser had ever encountered, full of fire
and spirit, yet vulnerably soft and feminine. She was very young, at least
Fraser thought of her that way. Ray's little sister, perhaps by only a few
years, but younger just the same. At times Fraser felt ancient next to
her. 
         Despite the difference in their ages, he couldn't help but be
drawn to Francesca like a moth to a flame, which was why he tried to keep
a respectable distance between them. He knew he would be in over his head
if he ever took that first step toward a relationship with her, and
besides, Ray would not approve. His partner had made that clear the day at
the precinct after he found out about his sister's night visit to Fraser's
apartment. 
         Fraser smiled a little and shook his head. How many times had he
thought of that night? He had been shocked and flattered when Francesca
showed up at his door with some sort of black leather negligee on, unaware
that Fraser had just been beaten half to death by Frank Zuko's henchmen.
Don't be afraid, Francesca had soothed him, perhaps sensing his distress
at having his partner's little sister in his home with barely anything on.

         They had not done anything of course. Fraser had been in no shape
to try anything more then sitting up at the time. Which had probably been
fortuitous, because although he had entertained the thought of allowing
the beautiful woman to have her way with him, he knew it would be wrong to
take advantage of her that way. Fraser knew Francesca had a crush on him.
He would have to be stupid, blind and deaf not to realize that, but he
believed it was just that, a crush.  Although he did not wish to hurt the
young woman's feelings, he simply was not the kind of person to take
advantage of her infatuation. 
         Fraser's feelings for the pretty Italian were a contradiction in
themselves, often confusing him and making him behave foolishly around her
at times. He was both enamoured of her and frightened of her. She was so
bold and honest about her feelings for him and Fraser could barely get out
a good morning to her half the time, because he was so often tongue-tied
around her. But he did have feelings for her, whether or not those
feelings would ever be explored, and he was very worried about her. 
         It was strange. Though she was here in the room sleeping, and he
saw her every day, Fraser realized he missed her.  He missed her laugh and
hearing her harass Ray. He missed the way she mixed up her words or
certain phrases, yet she was never embarrassed about her mix up, just
mildly annoyed that it should matter to anyone else enough that they
corrected her. She knew what she meant and that was all that mattered. 
        Fraser missed those fabulously dark eyes of hers and that sexy
smile that set his heart pounding as she purred his name in greeting in
that special way of hers. The way Francesca said his name often
embarrassed Fraser enough to cause him to blush and start stammering, but
he willingly accepted the humiliation in return for hearing his name said
just that way.  Perhaps he was a little egotistical to enjoy it so much,
but then so be it. He was still a man, and to be the object of a young
woman's fancy earned him a kind of self- indulgence, as long as he let it
go no further. 
         His gaze drifted toward Francesca once more and he found himself
wishing he could trade places with her so that Ray and Maria would not be
suffering so. They needed their sister back, especially after losing Mrs.
Vecchio. Fraser wished to end their torment. In all honesty, Fraser wished
he were the one lying there instead of her for selfish reasons as well, to
ease the breaking heart of a certain Canadian who had grown so fond of the
extraordinary woman that had captured his attention so easily. 
  
  

         "Caro, you need to go back my darling," Ma Vecchio insisted to
her daughter. "You cannot stay with me any longer." Francesca shook her
head and smiled at the bluebird perched high in a tree that was singing to
her. The garden in which they strolled was decorated in so many varieties
of flowers that Francesca would never name them all. It smelled absolutely
heavenly. 
         "Why won't you come back with me, Ma," she returned. "Or, why
can't we just stay here? It's quiet here and so beautiful." 
         "Yes, it is beautiful my daughter," Ma agreed, smiling, as she
watched Francesca hurry on ahead to uproot a flock of birds perched by the
water. Francesca spun around and laughed as the wings flapped around her
and moved upward into the sky. 
         "Ray will kill me if I even got a scratch on da new car," she
muttered, picking up a daisy and slowly twirling it in her fingers. 
         "Your brother does not care about the car, Francesca," Ma stated
with a sigh. "He is more worried about you. You must wake up now, my
darling, and let him know you are okay." 
         "Why," Francesca demanded. "What'd he ever do fer me?" 
         "He is your brother Caro. He loves you," Ma replied gently. "And
your young Benton, he waits to see you awaken as well. You must go back."
Francesca shook her head. 
         "Why? So Fraser can ignore me some more and Ray can criticize
everything I do?" 
         "There will be no more argument, daughter," Ma decided firmly.
"It is time for you to awaken." 
         "I can't Ma," Francesca cried. "Not without you. I can't go back
without you! Ray will hate me. Maria will never forgive me." Ma enfolded
her daughter in a warm embrace. 
         "They are your family, they will love you always," she stated,
and Francesca started to cry. 
         "I love you Mama, please don't leave us. Don't go away."
Francesca glanced up as her mother moved away and realized her
surroundings were fading into a darkness she wasn't yet ready for. "Ma!
Please Ma! Let me stay with you! I can't face them. I can't!" 
         "You are my heart, Caro," Ma Vecchio assured, her soft voice
growing faint as she moved further away and the darkness started to
swallow up Francesca's vision. "My love for you reaches beyond heaven and
earth, my darling." Francesca reached out a desperate hand even as the
shadows engulfed her. 
         "Ma! Mother don't go!" 

  
         Fraser glanced over, startled by Francesca's cry, and quickly
moved toward her from his position at the window. 
         "Mother don't go," she had cried and reached out her hand as
though trying to catch on to someone that she was still seeing in her
dream. Fraser had instinctually taken that desperate hand and folded his
warm fingers around it as Francesca Vecchio's eyes opened and she stared
straight at him. 
         "Ma," she asked tearfully, her voice barely audible from lack of
use. 
         "It's Fraser, Francesca," he informed gently and felt her fingers
tighten around his. 
         "Fraser," she questioned, confused, as she blinked a few times.
Her dark eyes moved but focused on nothing, and Fraser felt his lower lip
start to tremble. "Where are you? Why can't I see you?" Because you are
blind, dear heart, Fraser wanted to tell her, even as he forced his voice
to remain calm. 
         "I shall fetch the doctor, Francesca," he offered, but when he
went to move away she refused to let go. 
         "Don't leave," she cried as Ray opened the door, holding two
coffees in his hand. When he saw that his sister was awake, the two
coffees were immediately tossed aside as he rushed forward. 
         "Frannie," he declared happily. 
         "Perhaps you should get the doctor, Ray," Fraser suggested and
Ray observed the tight grip his sister had on the Mountie. He grinned,
dropped a delighted kiss on his sister's swollen cheek then hurried out. 
         "W...who kissed me," she asked, startled, and Fraser smiled. 
         "Ray," he assured and for a moment he thought he saw
disappointment on her face, but then it was gone. 
         "Oh," she said softly, but she didn't release Fraser's hand. "I
smell flowers." She inhaled deeply and then for a moment thought she was
back in the field with her mother. 
         "Your room is practically overflowing with them," Fraser
informed. "There are pink roses from Ray and Maria. Daisies from Elaine.
An arrangement of Orchids, Lillys, carnations and roses from your church.
The department sent a large decorative arrangement of ...." Fraser broke
off as the doctor and Ray entered.    "Here is your doctor, Francesca."
Francesca finally released him and allowed the physician to examine her. 

         Some time later, Ray re-entered his sister's room and moved over
to sit beside her, reaching for her hand, which she allowed him to grasp. 
         "How you doin', sis," he asked cheerfully as Francesca turned her
head away from him. 
         "How long," she demanded and Ray blinked confused. 
         "How long what, sweetheart?" 
         "Stop being nice to me," she declared, pulling her hand away
angrily. "I don't need yer pity, just tell me how long I've been here." 
         "About five days," Ray replied quietly. "I'm not givin' you pity,
Frannie, I..." 
         "I know what yer doin'," she hissed. "Ya feel sorry fer me. Well,
I don't need it." 
         "Damnit Frannie, why ya gotta be like this," Ray demanded,
running his hand over his head in frustration. "I'm yer brother, can't I
be worried about ya?" 
         "Yes," she returned quietly, her fire suddenly vanquished. "But
you don't gotta treat me any different because I'm a little banged up and
can't see." 
         "Frannie I..." Ray bit his lip. He'd been through alot trying to
hold things together for his family, and he was so close to the edge now
he felt ready to explode. "We almost lost you, too, Sis. I...I couldn't
have....I don't think I would have been able to handle losing both of
you." Francesca heard the tears in her brother's voice and she reached for
him. Ray lay his head on her chest and linked his fingers through hers
again.     "I...I'm sorry, I...I just..." 
         "Well, ya didn't loose me. I'm still here," she stated grimly and
Ray was confused at the dejection he heard in her tone. "When can I go
home?" 
         "They said I can take you home in three days or so," he informed
and she nodded. 
         "Is...is it bad, Ray?' 
         "Is what bad, Honey," he asked puzzled. 
         "My face," she replied softly. "I...I can feel da bandages and da
nurse was in here a little while ago talkin' about skin grafts and plastic
surgery." Ray silently cursed the stupid woman and meant to track the
insensitive bitch down at a later date. 
         "I...no, Frannie," he assured, forcing his tone to remain
optimistic. "I wouldn't worry about dat little scratch, it's nothin'
really." 
         "Then why did..." Francesca began and Ray cut her off. 
         "Doc says you may need some surgery," he admitted. "But it's
nothin' ta worry about, Frannie. You'll be good as new." Francesca was
quiet for a long time. 
         "And my eyes, Ray," she demanded. "Will dey be good as new too?"
Ray was silent, unsure how to respond, but before he could decide she was
speaking again. 
        "I want ya to do some things fer me, Ray," she asked and he
nodded, forgetting she couldn't see him. 
         "Anything, Frannie," he returned. "Within reason." She almost
smiled and he was glad he had added the barb. 
         "I want to use the guest room downstairs. It will be easier fer
me ta get around." 
         "Sure, Maria already figured that," Ray returned. "She's setting
it up." 
         "Good. I also don't want you guys helping me any more than is
necessary." 
         "You got it." 
         "Last thing." She took a deep breath, knowing how well this would
go over with her brother. "I don't want Fraser in da house." Ray gaped at
her in shock. 
         "W...what? Frannie! You can't be serious! Why?" 
         "I know he's yer partner and yer friend, so I'll accept dat he
has to be dere on occasion with you, but I don't want him around me." 
         "Frannie! Dat's crazy," Ray exclaimed. "What have you got against
Benny all of a sudden?" 
         "It's what I want, Ray," she informed firmly. "If you can't do
that fer me, I'm not going home." Ray was torn, but his family took
priority right now. Frannie need his support. 
         "Okay, Frannie," he agreed. "Fer now." She nodded and turned her
head away. 
         "I'm tired," she stated, and he rose from the chair. 
         "I'll let you rest, then," he returned quietly and left the room.
Fraser was waiting outside and glanced at him sympathetically. "She...she
doesn't want you around, Benny." 
         "I know, Ray," he replied, trying to make it easier for his
friend. "I apologize for evesdropping. I couldn't help but overhear." 
         "She...she's just goin' through a tough time, Benny," Ray assured
quickly. "She'll be her old self in no time, and..." 
         "Ray, it is okay, really," Fraser offered quietly. "You must do
what is best for Francesca." Ray nodded. "I should get back to the
consulate, Inspector Thatcher will be wondering where I am. Please keep me
apprised of your sister's condition and give her my best." 
         "Sure Benny," Ray mumbled, unable to even meet the Mounties's
eyes. 
  

         "Dat's great, Frannie," Maria exclaimed as Francesca made another
trip around the living room, having memorized where everything was. 
          She was doing much better and the doctors said she may even get
her sight back eventually, but Francesca figured it was better to learn
how to get around without it, just in case. They had a blind tutor come
and teach her for a few hours a day and then the physical therapist would
work with her for her arm and spine injuries. Ray spared no expense in
getting her whatever she needed. Francesca was cordial and willing to work
with all her new teachers, but would remain stubbornly silent whenever the
hospital's counselor would visit. 
         Francesca never talked about the accident or losing her mother.
She barely spoke to the few friends that called to check on her, quickly
informing them she couldn't be better then claiming she had to run, and
hang up. However, she would not venture outside the house other than for a
trip around the garden with Maria or to go for her weekly check-up at the
hospital 
         Every now and then she would hear Ray's car pull up and two doors
opening and closing. She would move to close her bedroom door and sit in
the darkened room, listening to the voices on the porch. Fraser never
stepped inside the house, merely accompanied Ray to the porch and waited.
Occasionally Francesca would hear the pitter patter of wolf's feet and
Diefenbaker would immediately go and sit by her door, pawing at the wood
and whining mournfully until either Ray or Maria came to coax him away.
Maria always offered Fraser a plate of supper to take home and he declined
that as well. 
         Maria and Ray were trying to be patient, but Francesca knew they
were both starting to get fed up with the way they had to treat their
favorite Mountie. Francesca wouldn't budge on the subject. She did not
want Benton Fraser around and no one could convince her differently.
Despite the guilt in her heart at having to be so cruel to him, she would
remain firm. for her own sake. 
         It had been almost a month and Christmas was growing near. Maria
had tried everything to coerce Francesca into allowing Fraser to come for
Thanksgiving and Francesca finally gave in, but told them she would eat in
her room. The Vecchios were torn between the people they loved and neither
knew what to do about it. 
         Finally Ray decided he'd let Frannie eat in her room, but he was
not going to neglect Fraser another minute longer. Their decision didn't
matter, for Fraser declined the invitation to Thanksgiving dinner and
Francesca knew her brother and sister blamed her for the Mounties's
refusal. 
         "I said he could come," Francesca argued as Ray confronted her.
"If he said no, dat's his problem." 
         "He said no because of you," Ray accused. "The same reason he has
said no to every damn thing I've asked him to do off duty, because of you.
He knows you don't want him around and he's trying to be the polite
Mountie and do the right thing." 
         "Then it's his problem," Francesca spat angrily. 
         "Frannie, I'm askin' him over fer Christmas," Ray decided. "You
can spend the whole freakin' week in yer room if you want, but my friend
is not going to be alone fer the holidays. If Ma were here, she'd..." 
         "Ma's not here, though, is she, Ray," Francesca turned on him.
Despite her blindness, there was fury in her eyes. "Which makes you da
head of the household fer real, so invite Fraser, invite Welsh, invite all
of freakin' Chicago for all I care, cause I won't be celebratin' Christmas
with any of you." Ray was shaking with anger and full of despair that he
couldn't get through to his sister's misery. 
         "Why do you hate him so much all of a sudden," he demanded. "What
has Benny done to deserve this? He's never treated you with anything but
respect and decency. He's even picked up fer you with me. What is wrong,
Francesca?" 
         "Like you said, Ray," she muttered, moving to find her chair by
the window and sitting down, turning her back to him. It didn't matter
that she couldn't see outside, she just liked sitting there. "Guys like
him never go fer girls like me." Ray growled in exasperation. 
         "Is that what this is about? All of a sudden ya decide to listen
to me," Francesca shrugged. "Bullshit! You wouldn't listen to me about
Fraser or any other man ya had it bad fer, Frannie, and ya know it. I'm
just yer brother, I don't know shit about yer personal life, remember? You
will not pin yer treatment of Benny on me, not dis time." 
         "Leave me alone, Ray," Francesca warned. "I told you to invite
him if you want, but I won't be there." Ray threw his hands up in the air
and finally slumped in the chair. 
         "He wouldn't come even if I asked him, Goddamnit," he muttered. 
         "Ya'd better watch yer mouth, bro," She warned. "Before ya end up
with a months worth of confession. So Fraser doesn't want to come, how is
dat my fault?" Ray growled at her. 
         "Because you don't want him here and he knows it," Ray stated
angrily. "Christ, Francesca, why won't you talk to me? Why do you have to
be this way? Losin' Ma was bad enough, but I feel like...I feel like I've
lost you, too." 
         "That's stupid, Ray," Francesca retorted. "I'm right here." 
         "No," he sighed, standing up again. "No Frannie, yer not. I don't
know where my little sister is, or who she is anymore, and damnit, it's
tearin' me apart that I can't help ya." Francesca remained silent.
"You...you do what you gotta do, Frannie. I...I can't take it anymore. You
won't let us help you, you stay in this damn room like yer a prisoner, ya
won't talk to us or to the counselor, then tell me what the hell ya want
me to do. How do I help you get through this? Who can you talk to,
Frannie?" 
         "Just leave me alone, Ray," she replied quietly. "I just want to
be left alone." 
         "No Frannie, I won't leave you alone. Yer my sister and I love
you." She heard him stride to the door. "Ya won't talk to us, ya won't
talk to da shrink, but I know someone ya will talk to because, he'll stick
it out until you do." Francesca almost stumbled in her rush to get out of
the chair. 
         "Don't you dare, Ray," she cried out, furious. "Don't you bring
him here, or I swear to God I will never speak to you again!" 
         "Yer not speakin' to me now, Frannie," he reminded quietly as he
opened the door. "But you will talk ta him." 
         Francesca screamed at him as he closed the door quietly behind
him, reaching for whatever she could grasp. She found a picture frame on a
nearby table and threw it in the general direction of the door, listening
to it bounce off the wood and the glass crack as it hit the floor. She
groped for her chair and slid into it, blinking at the tears in her eyes.
He wouldn't bring him here, Ray would never betray her like that, how
could he? 
  

         Andrew Vecchio entered the Vecchio household as quietly as a
church mouse and set his bag by the door. It looked like everyone was
still asleep, but then it had only been a little after five when he got a
cab from the airport. He pushed the door closed and locked it, pocketing
the key, then just stood there for a long moment, inhaling the sense and
feel of home. He hadn't stepped foot inside this house, where he grew up,
in over ten years and there had always been an emptiness inside him that
he could never fill. 
         He pulled off his coat, hung it in the closet and then headed
into the kitchen to put the coffee on. Everything was the same, nothing
had changed, not even where their mother kept the filters and coffee
grounds. He regretted missing her funeral, but he had been in Kenya not
been able to get back in time. 
         When he spoke to Ray, he was assured that the family understood
and that they hoped he would make it home for Christmas this year. It was
always the same invitation every year, yet Andrew never came home for the
holidays, or any other reason. There were too many bad memories, too many
demons he wasn't prepared to unleash. Then he received Ray's letter a week
ago about their little sister, and Andrew knew this was the time to come
home. 
         Francesca had always been his favorite sister. He got along well
with Maria, but there was just something about Frannie that always made
him happy to be with her. They were inseparable growing up, and then
things changed. When Andrew left home to join the Priesthood, his mother
and Maria were proud, his brother relieved and his father laughed in his
face at the idea. Frannie was, of course, heart broken that he would be
leaving her, but he never expected her to take it as hard as she did. 
         Perhaps Andrew never realized how much she had come to depend on
him, how cherished he was to her, but he soon learned how very much his
leaving had hurt his baby sister. She cut off all ties with him, refusing
to answer his calls and returned his letters unopened. When he had come
home for their father's funeral, she would not speak to him and spent most
of the day in her room away from the rest of the family. He never quite
understood her anger, but had been forced to accept it. 
         Now, Ray had mentioned she was closing in on herself and he was
worried what was going to become of their baby sister if things continued
as they were. Andrew knew all about Fraser, and Francesca's affection for
the Mountie, and had read the confusion in his brother's letters as to why
she was so angry with the Canadian. 
          Andrew probably knew Francesca better than anyone, despite their
years of separation. He could always get her to talk to him and tell him
what was wrong. Now it seemed that gift was about to be put to the test.
He would have to work hard to break down the barriers Francesca had put
between herself and everyone else, but then, he had plenty of experience
at that from working so many years as a missionary. 
         He heard a door close upstairs and quickly poured a cup of
coffee, then moved back out into the foyer as his older brother appeared
on the upper landing. 
         "Andy," Ray greeted softly, so as not to wake the rest of the
house, as he strolled down the steps in his favorite gray Armani suit and
designer tie. "I didn't think you'd be here 'till tomorrow." 
         The brothers embraced for a long moment before Andrew offered him
the cup. Where Ray took after his father, Andrew had his mother's coloring
and dark eyes, like Francesca. He was tall and thin, with a full head of
thick black hair. His skin was a dark rich brown from the hot African sun,
which made the white collar he wore stand out even more against his skin
and the dark shirt he wore. 
         "I bribed a few people to get me out of Kenya a little sooner,"
Andrew commented, his accent slightly thickened from his time abroad, and
Ray thought he almost sounded British. "You're up early." 
         "I've got the early shift at the station," Ray explained,
surprising Andrew by remaining where he was to sip his coffee, since the
detective almost always drank it in the kitchen. Andrew hadn't been home
in awhile, so maybe things had changed. "Maybe later you can drop by and
I'll give ya a tour where I work." 
         "I'd love that, Raime," Andrew smiled and watched his brother's
color heighten slightly. 
         "Um...don't call me that in public, okay, Kid, kinda ruins my
rep." Andrew laughed. 
         "I promise," he assured. "If you promise not to call me Kid." Ray
grinned. 
         "Ooh, I didn't say I was gonna bargain now," Ray chuckled, but
the amusement never reached those dark emerald eyes. 
         "Are you hungry," Andrew suggested moving back toward the kitchen
to get himself a cup of coffee and maybe one of the sweet rolls he'd seen
on the table, expecting Ray to follow. 
         "I..." Ray paused and lowered his eyes, the pulse in his jaw
flexing dangerously, alerting Andrew that his brother was close to an
emotional breakdown. "I'm not hungry, Andy." 
         "What's wrong, Ray," Andrew asked softly, noticing that the
detective remained just outside the kitchen doorway. 
         Ray shrugged, watching as his brother served up another coffee
and grabbed one of the rolls, settling at the kitchen table, obviously
expecting Ray to sit with him. Ray sipped his coffee as he leaned against
the door frame and resisted the nausea that welled up inside him. His
palms were sweaty and his hands slightly shaky. 
         "Ray," Andrew asked again, rising from the table and approaching
his brother concerned. Ray had grown quite pale. 
         "I...I haven't..." Ray began. "I haven't been able to...to come
in here since Ma died," He finally admitted and Andrew cast him a
sympathetic look. "I...I see her everywhere, feel her presence all over
the house, but here...she...she was just always here, and..." He shook his
head and gestured at the large kitchen emphatically. " I...I can't seem to
get past...without her it isn't da same, y'know?" Andrew nodded and
stepped forward, outside the kitchen to pull Ray into his arms.. 
         "I miss her too, Raime," he whispered, taking Ray's cup and
setting it aside, before folding the trembling man in his embrace again. 
          He couldn't imagine Ray not being able to step inside the
kitchen in their own home. It was practically where they grew up. Full of
fond memories, the kitchen was the one place where no outside conflicts
could reside, because Ma Vecchio wouldn't allow it. 
         "I...I feel like it's my fault, Andy," Ray whispered wretchedly
and Andrew felt hot tears sting his eyes. It was intimately painful to see
his older brother so distressed. Ray had always been the strong one, never
a tear, never a show of weakness. "Ma...she wanted me ta take her to da
market and I told her ta get Frannie ta drive her. I shoulda done it, she
might be alive if..." 
         "It's no one's fault, Ray," Andrew refused firmly. "It was an
accident. Frannie is a good driver, you've told me that yourself. It might
have happened even if you had driven Ma. You couldn't have known something
like this would happen." 
         "But I should have been dere, Andy," Ray insisted miserably. "I
could've protected her. I..." 
         "You're not God, Raime," Andrew protested. "He must have had a
reason for wantin' Ma with him. You know it's never about blame or who did
or didn't do something. It's His will." 
         Ray nodded and clung to him, needing the support of a brother,
and the knowledge that someone forgave him. Finally they broke apart, each
sniffing suspiciously and Ray using his pocket handkerchief to wipe the
tears from his eyes. 
         "I really miss her, Andy." He released a shaky sigh. "And...I
don't know how ta get through ta Frannie. Maria's barely holdin' it
together, but at least she's got da kids and Tony ta look after her. Me
and Frannie, we just got each other, y'know, it's all we've had since..."
he broke off and Andrew bowed his head, ashamed. 
         "Since I left," he finished quietly and Ray nodded reluctantly. 
         "Ya did what ya had to do, Andy. No one blames you." 
         "Frannie does," Andy sighed as they moved toward the front door,
so Ray could retrieve his coat from the hall closet. "I shouldn't have
stayed away so long. I am sorry, Ray." 
         "Don't worry about it," Ray dismissed as Andy held the coat for
him. "Besides, things have been better since I met Benny." Andy nodded and
smiled. 
         "Will I get to meet the Mountie finally," Andrew inquired and Ray
smiled, back to his old self.. 
         "Sure, if ya survive yer talk with Frannie," Ray retorted,
fishing his keys out of his pocket. "I gotta get to work, but you know my
cell number. Call me if ya need an attempted homicide investigated." 
         "Gee, Raime," his brother smirked. "If yur tryin' to scare me
away, it's workin'." 
         "She's messed up pretty bad, Andy," Ray warned seriously. "She's
shuttin' everyone and everything out, I don't know what to do anymore." He
shook his head. "She's gonna hate me fer callin' you." 
         "No more than usual, I imagine," Andrew teased, trying to put his
older brother at ease. Ray had always been the family's strength and
problem solver. Now it was time Andrew took some of the pressure off and
grabbed the reins for awhile. He squeezed Ray's shoulder affectionately. 
         "Love you, Caro," Ray smiled and patted Andrew's shoulder in a
similar fashion. 
         "Just keep sayin' that while yer in with Frannie. I'd be pissed
if you ended up hating me to fer putin' ya through it." 
         "I'd never hate you, Raime, you know that," Andrew stated firmly
and Ray nodded again. 
         "Yah I know," he admitted. "I'll see ya later." 
         Andrew watched him leave then quietly closed the door and
returned to the kitchen to finish his coffee. He rose finally and put both
mugs in the dishwasher and retrieved his bag from the hall. He pulled out
a change of clothes and headed for the downstairs washroom for a quick
shower 

  
         After freshening up, and a quick hello to Maria and Tony, who had
woken to get the kids off to school, he headed for the guestroom, which
Frannie was now using. He entered quietly and waited for his eyes to
adjust to the dimness in the room. There were no lights on, and Francesca
had pulled the blinds on the windows, making it seem even darker. 
         She lay on the bed, curled up under the covers as Andrew
remembered seeing her sleep many times before. Two long, serrated scars
marred her perfectly porcelain skin from the middle of her left cheek up
to just before her ear. The skin around them seemed to hold a yellowish
tint, setting it apart from the rest of her smooth complexion. 
         Ray had informed Andrew that there were surgeries and new
procedures to cosmetically repair the scaring on their sister's face and
she'd be good as new. Francesca, it seemed, doubted that. Since she
couldn't see for herself, only feel it with her fingers and imagine the
hideous wound, she would not allow them to discuss surgery, or let anyone
outside of her family to see her. 
         "Frannie," he whispered gently as he pushed a lock of her hair
back from her face. She murmured in her sleep and turned away from him.
"Honey, wake up, it's Andy." 
         "G'way," she muttered and snuggled further beneath her covers.
Andrew smiled, and settled next to her. Obviously Frannie was still not a
morning person. He called her name again and finally her eyes opened and
she stared at him vacantly. 
         "Frannie," he inquired, testing to see if she was awake yet. 
         "Who's there," she asked so painfully soft that Andrew felt his
heart go out to her. He didn't see the strong, stubborn person Ray had
wrote to him about. All he saw was a vulnerable and frightened girl. 
         "It's Andrew, Frannie," he greeted and she immediately turned
away from him. 
         "I don't want you here. Go away," she stated furiously, but
Andrew remained unmoving. "Yer not my father confessor and I have nothing
ta say to you, so you've wasted a trip. I will never forgive Ray fer
bringing ya here." 
         "I came of my own accord, Frannie," Andrew replied quietly. "Ray
only told me what was going on. I made the decision to come on my own." 
         "Well, now you can turn around and decide ta go back." 
         "Why?" 
         "I don't want ta talk to you!" 
         "I don't care if ya want to talk to me or not," Andrew retorted.
"This isn't about your childish little grudge against me, it's about you,
Frannie." 
         "Just leave me alone!" 
         "You've been left alone," Andrew shot back. "Ray and Maria and
everyone have been trying to adhere to yur every wish and it's given you
the idea that ya can get away with such rotten behavior, because Ma isn't
here ta take ya over her knee..." 
         "You shut up!" Francesca screamed at him, bolting up in the bed
and lashing out at him. He defended her blows easily, since she couldn't
see him, but didn't move from his position on the bed. "Don't you dare
talk to me about Ma! You never even bothered to come to her funeral, you
bastard!" 
         "I tried to come, Frannie," Andrew barked, catching hold of her
wrists to thwart her attacks. "I was stuck in a tiny hell hole in Africa
when Ray called and left a message with the Sister there. I didn't get it
until three days later, and when I called, Ray said the funeral was over
but dat they understood why I didn't make it." 
         "Well, Ma wouldn't have understood," Francesca denied, still
struggling against him and trying to get her hands free. "You should have
been here, she was yer mother." Andrew moved his grip up to her upper arms
and shook her enough to get her attention. 
         "Yes she was, and I feel like a hole had been cut out of my heart
now that she's gone, but it's not nearly as big as the hole you've left
dere, Frannie. Now I've a complete set." Francesca blinked in confusion. 
         "I...I don't..." 
         "Ya cut me out of yur life when I left here, Francesca," he
explained bitterly. "I never understood why and I tried ta make up fur
whatever it was I did to make ya hate me, but it was never enough and
eventually I realized that any trips I made home just put added pressure
on the family because of yur bloody hatred." He caressed her cheek
tenderly, as his voice grew softer. "I never meant to hurt ya, Frannie. I
love ya and always have, but I didn't want to come home because I couldn't
stand to see the hate in yur eyes directed at me. It almost killed me." He
released her and stepped away abruptly. 
         "That shouldn't have stopped you," Francesca accused. "This is
yer family and ya should have been here to..." 
         "I couldn't be here, Frannie," Andrew exclaimed, frustrated. "Not
while Pop was alive." Francesca folded her arms around herself and shook
with anger. 
         "We all had to deal with Pop, we all made it through just fine,
but you...you ran away to hide behind da church." 
         "It wasn't like that," Andrew denied. "Yes, I joined the
priesthood. It was what I thought I should do. But you have no right to
hate me because I got out of dis place and away from the abuse, Francesca.
You have no idea what went on between me and pop. You were always his
precious favorite and he hardly ever even bothered with you, but Ray and
me were on the receiving end, and I finally couldn't take it anymore." 
         "I know Pop didn't hit me around like he did you," she screamed,
twisting violently and tearing herself away from his grip. She stumbled
out of the bed, shaking furiously as she turned back toward him. "Ya think
I don't feel bad about dat every day of my stinkin' life? But I had to
watch him do it and couldn't stop him, don't ya think I wanted to do
something? Don't you think I hated seeing you and Ray getting beaten and
degraded all da time?" 
         "Look, I didn't want to get into this," Andrew denied. "I don't
want to talk about Pop, or the church or any of that other stuff. I came
to find out what is wrong with you." 
         "Why don't you want to talk about the church," Francesca
demanded, as she felt her way around the bed to where she believed him to
be and Andrew stood to wait for her. "Shouldn't this be the part where I
fall to my knees and beg you Father fer forgiveness of my sins?" 
         "Frannie, don't..." he warned but she was too far incensed and
she fell to her knees before him, bowing elaborately. 
         "Oh Father forgive me for..." 
         "Stop it," he demanded, grabbing her arms, pulling her roughly to
her feet, and Francesca knew she had gone too far. "This is not a game and
I won't have you disgrace the church by such spiteful arrogance. You want
to confess yur sins then go to church. I can't help you." 
         "Yer a priest," she hissed, struggling against him. "Isn't that
what a priest does?" 
         "I'm not a priest anymore, Francesca," he stated coldly and
shoved her away from him, toward the bed to break her fall, as he turned
his back to her and ripped off the white collar. "I haven't been one fur
almost eleven years now." Francesca stared at him in shock, but he refused
to turn back to her as he carefully folded the treasured collar. "I'm
still wearin' the collar for Heaven's sake. I wore it because...out of
habit really. I didn't know how to tell you or Maria." 
         "W...why," Francesca finally managed. They had all been so proud
of Andrew for joining the church, even Frannie, despite her anger.  Andrew
was quiet for a long time, before he finally turned to her with of tears
in his eyes. 
         "Frannie, I was never gonna tell ya any of this," he admitted
quietly. "I couldn't handle any more of yur hate and disappointment." He
took a deep breath and stared down at the collar in his hands. "I left
because...because Pop found out I was gay and he banished me from the
house." He grimaced, barely hearing her gasp. "But not before he beat me
half ta death and threatened ta kill me if I ever came back. No son of his
was gonna be a fag, and he would kill me himself before he allowed anyone
else to know." 
         "B...but you were a priest," she whispered, confused. Her
emotions were dangerously close to exploding around her and the room was
spinning slightly as she slowly sat up on the bed. 
         "Yes, I was fur many years and I enjoyed ministering,
but...eventually I had to be honest with myself." He sighed and shook his
head, still unable to meet her gaze. "I thought becoming a priest would
change me, or at least make da...the feelings I was having go away, but it
didn't. I loved my work with da church, but sooner or later I knew my
secret would be revealed, so I left on my own. I still have my faith,
Frannie. I'm still a devout Christian and Catholic, but...dere are just
certain things I can't adhere to anymore." 
         "D...did Ma know," Francesca demanded and he shook his head. 
         "No, other than Pop, Ray is the only one who knew." 
         "Ray knew," Francesca shrieked. "And he...he still..." she
fumbled with the words and Andrew almost smiled. 
         "Still what, Frannie? Still spoke to me, still loved me as his
brother?" She nodded. "At first he was really angry, I could understand
dat. I mean, da way we were brought up, it's a sin to be homosexual, and
Ray is very firm in his faith." Andrew shrugged. "We argued and screamed
and he swore I would go to hell, but den I guess he started to accept it a
little at a time. I was still his brother, after all, and family is just
as important as faith to Ray. But when he saw what Pop did to me, I guess
it made him think he was no better for the way he had been treatin' me,
and den it was...I don't know, a miracle maybe, but Ray accepted me as I
was. We wrote a lot over da years and maybe learned a bit too. He knew
when I left da Priesthood and had agreed with my decision, but we never
told Ma or any of you." 
         "Andy I..." Francesca didn't know what to say. How did one
respond to such news? Andy had been living in fear that his family would
find out he was gay and disown him, and he had only Ray to talk to about
it. 
         "I lost ya years ago Frannie, and I finally came to terms with
dat," he continued. "But then we lost Ma and I've been throwing myself
into my work to keep from feeling so lost." He shook his head wearily.
"Now you want to shut out the world and all who care about ya and that
isn't right, Frannie. You weren't the one who died. Ya need to start
living again and stop feeling sorry for yurself." 
         "You don't understand," she murmured and turned away. "No one
understands." 
         "Then make us understand, Caro," he encouraged softly. "You have
a family who loves you, Frannie, so much I don't think you even realize
it. A family dat has been broken into separate pieces by da loss of Ma,
everyone trying to deal in their own way with their grief and still be
strong for the others." 
         "I don't want dem ta be strong fer me," Francesca cried. "I want
dem ta just leave me alone." Andrew turned her toward him, his hands
squeezing her shoulders gently. 
         "Frannie, we are going to be strong fur you, and tend to you and
try to make things better because you are what we have left." 
         "Ya can't," she sobbed. "No one can." 
         "Only if ya don't tell us what's wrong," Andrew pressed. "We look
at you and we thank God because you survived, don't you understand?"
Francesca shook her head miserably. "Frannie, we can't be a complete
family with pieces missing." 
         "Ma and Pop are gone," she murmured. "We'll never be a family
again." He shook his head. 
         "No sweetheart, yur wrong. We just need to draw closer together
so the gaps they left are less noticeable. But we can't do dat when one of
the pieces are broken, and won't be fixed." 
         "I'll never be fixed, Andy," she stated remorsefully, and he bit
his lip as his heart went out to her. 
         "Only if you don't let us help you, baby. Let us love you."
Francesca remained silent. "What about this Fraser fellow, I thought you
and he were close? What has he done to deserve yur anger? Surely he didn't
abandon ya as you think I did." She shook her head. 
         "I don't...I don't want his pity." 
         "His pity? Why would he pity you," Andrew inquired, puzzled, and
she pushed away from him, furiously slapping at her scar. 
         "This is why," she screamed. "I'm a monster! I wouldn't see the
disgust in his eyes, Andy, but I'd know it was dere and I won't accept his
sympathy." Andrew shook his head and stepped forward, reaching his fingers
toward the scar, watching her flinch away when he touched it. "Don't! I'm
hideous!" He dropped his hand and gazed at her quietly. 
         "You aren't a monster, Frannie," he refused softly. "That little
scratch can be mostly taken care of with plastic surgery, honey." 
         "Little scratch," she shrieked. "It's a damn crater and it will
scar, the doctors said..." 
         "It might scar, it might not," Andrew countered as he started to
pull off his collar and pull at his shirt. "We all have battle scars Caro.
Not all are visible on da surface, but of those few dat are, you have
nothing ta worry about." 
         He pulled his shirt over his head and revealed the discoloration
of long jagged lines that extended from his left shoulder, down across his
back and part of his right side, to all the way around his torso in
hideously white claw marks. He grasped her left hand and ran her fingers
across the texture. 
         "W...w...what happened," she whispered in distress as he watched
her automatically cringe at the disproportionate feel of his injuries. He
did not pull away, but allowed her trembling hand to trace the scars on
his flesh. 
         "I was mauled by a tiger trying to save a young woman from the
village where I was visiting," he stated calmly, then pulled his shirt
back on. "Pretty awful right?" Francesca could only allow her hands to
drop to her lap as tears entered her eyes. "Funny thing is, I thought it
was the end of life as I knew it. I had just left the church and then this
happened. I was fully determined to curl up and die, or go live as a
hermit, but da African people wouldn't allow it. Dey asked me to stay and
continue to teach as I had been. It made no difference dat I was no longer
a priest. Dey don't put much store in a person's outward appearance as
what dey contribute as a member of their tribe. Most honored me as a brave
and fearless man for facing da tiger. The women all thought I was the
greatest thing since sliced bread, and over all I garnered a lot friends
from it. I can walk around dere with my shirt off and all I get are looks
of admiration and respect, not disgust." 
         "We're not in Africa," Francesca reminded, subdued. "And Fraser
will..." 
         "Fraser will like you as much as he ever did, because yur you,
Frannie," Andrew insisted quietly. "He isn't going to care about a little
scar, not from what Ray has told me of him. And if he does, den honey, he
isn't worth worrying over." 
         "I...I just..." She wiped at her eyes in frustration and felt her
brother's arms going around her. "I don't deserve him...don't...I
shouldn't be..." she shook her head unable to express what she was
feeling. 
         "What, Frannie," Andrew encouraged kindly as he settled on the
bed next to her and took her tiny hands in his. "Why don't you deserve
Fraser? He makes you happy, doesn't he?" She nodded. "You really like him,
don't ya? And despite all the stuff Ray has said about what he thinks is
infatuation, I think you might even love him, am I right?" 
         "That's why," she cried forlornly, her hands griping his
desperately. "Don't you see?" She unknowingly raised tear filled eyes to
his and Andy felt his heart breaking at her despair. "I feel so bad
about...I was driving, Andy. Why...why did Ma have to be da one to die?
Why couldn't God have taken me, Andy? W...why did He leave me and t...take
Ma?" 
         "Because that was God's plan, honey," Andrew soothed as he rocked
her gently in his arms, not forcing her to turn into him, just holding
her. "You obviously haven't finished yur work here yet and I'm so glad,
because I'm not ready to lose you yet either, Frannie." He turned then and
wrapped her arms around him. "Give Fraser a chance. Give all of us a
chance, it doesn't have to be the end, but a beginning." 
         "I want it to be me," she sobbed, wrapping her arms around him
and turning her face into his shoulder.  "It's my fault that Ma died and
I...I can't fix it. I know Ray and Maria hate me and..." 
         "Honey, it wasn't yur fault," Andrew assured gently, as the door
opened and he glanced over, surprised to find Ray standing there. His gaze
told the detective to be quiet and so Ray remained where he was and
allowed his brother and sister to find comfort in one another. 
         "It is," she cried. "I killed Ma! I should have been p...paying
a...attention and...and not t...thinking of...of..." 
         "What sweetheart?" 
         "F...Fraser," she declared mournfully. "I was thinkin' about
Fraser and I...I usually look b...both ways at an I...I...intersection
because I...I k...know...Ray always says... people run da l...lights
and...I...I didn't I...I was thinkin of Fraser and j...just headed through
w....without l...lookin' and M...Ma died! S...she died and it shoulda been
me, Andy." 
         Andrew continued to soothe her as he exchanged a horrified glance
with his older brother, who had paled dramatically at his sister's
confession. Ray looked angry, concerned, frightened. All those things and
more registered on his face, and Andrew knew his brother was having
difficulty sorting his emotions out at the moment. 
         "I've hurt him so much, Andy," Francesca murmured, her sobs
finally subsiding as Andy continued to hold her. "I've hurt everyone so
much I don't know how ta take it back. I wanted Ray to be mad at me fer Ma
dyin', but he wasn't and I can't handle the guilt. I hate dat I survived.
I want to be with Ma." Andrew frowned and pulled her closer. 
         "Sweetheart, Ma's with the angels, probably cookin' up a batch of
Gaspatcho fur the Big Man himself," he promised with a small smile. "Yur
okay, Ray's okay and Fraser's okay. Everyone will be just fine, but you
gotta let it go and move on." Francesca sniffed and shook her head. "You
remember what Ma always told us when things were lookin' tough? Whenever
God closes a door..." 
         "S...somewhere He opens a window," Francesca finished huskily.
"I...I'm just so afraid Andy. If R...Ray finds out what I did, he'll hate
me, I know he will. He doesn't think I love Fraser, not really, but I do,
Andy, I really do, that's why I want him to stay away. It's my punishment.
I can't ever be with him or think about him again because of what I did. I
know Ray will hate me because I wasn't payin' attention. R...Ray's right.
I don't deserve a guy l...like Fraser anyway." 
         "Ray would never hate you, Frannie," Andrew assured, glancing
again at his brother and finding confirmation in the wounded green eyes
that stared helplessly back. "And you deserve whatever you want reach for,
whoever your heart belongs to. Everything will be okay." Andy smiled down
at her. "Things are already looking up. You and I are speaking again and
holdin' each other." She buried her head in his chest and squeezed him
harder. 
         "Never let go," she whispered and he replied with a straight
face. 
         "That would make going to the bathroom a little tricky, but we'll
manage it." 
         She giggled and Ray found himself delighting in the sound. He
hadn't heard Frannie laugh since the accident. He watched her slap
Andrew's chest playfully, then snuggle closer, as Ray stepped out of the
room and closed the door quietly behind him. 
  

         Ray headed straight for the front door, forgetting the file he
had returned home for, and quickly climbed back behind the wheel of the
Rivera. He backed out of the drive and sped away, trying to get a hold of
the tidal wave of emotions that was threatening to overtake him. 
         He made it three blocks before pulling off to the side, throwing
open the door and wrenching painfully into the snow. Finally the nausea
subsided and he sat wearily back in his seat, closing his eyes and trying
to contain his trembling. His Adam's apple was bobbing furiously as he
attempted to swallow past the baseball size lump in his throat, refusing
to allow the tears that threatened him to break through. 
         Dear God! He couldn't comprehend that Francesca had been living
with such torment all this time. He was hurt and angry that she couldn't
confide in him, but he had to admit that now he understood why she had cut
herself off from Fraser. He squeezed his eyes shut as his fists
automatically tightened at the mention of the Mountie. 
         Frannie had been daydreaming of his Canadian partner, again, and
this time it ended in disaster. Part of him was furious. He was man enough
to admit that and fully aware that his Italian blood pushed him to
emotional extremes at times, but this...this was just unbelievable. 
          What did it take to make his sister understand that the Mountie
was not interested? Why did she continue to reach for something that would
never be hers? Part of him was convinced she did it just to tick him off,
but his protective, brotherly instincts wanted to believe Benny had done
something to encourage her. Francesca was not a stupid woman, despite
Ray's patronizing behavior toward her at times. She had to see that Fraser
avoided her as Ray noticed him doing. Unless she saw something Ray did
not, some sign that Fraser enjoyed her flirtation. If that were the case,
Ray would be very upset. 
         The fact that neither she nor Benny ever told him what had
happened that night at the Mounties's apartment stuck in his craw, yet he
had to assume nothing had or Francesca would not have been trying so
damned hard to make herself noticeable to his friend. Ray had wanted to
respect their privacy. If they didn't want to tell him what happened, he
had to except that. But he could not honestly believe that his little
sister was really and truly in love with the Mountie. It just didn't wash.

          Obviously, whatever his sister's feelings for Fraser, Francesca
was punishing herself for their Mother's death by denying herself the one
thing she seemed to treasure most, contact with Benny. Ray had never
approved of a relationship between his partner and little sister, and
obviously his feelings had not been lost on Francesca. But the idea that
she had been blaming herself all this time had shocked and frightened Ray,
because he had not been able to see his sister's fears. She refused to let
him see, because she thought he would blame her as well, and even hate her
for causing the accident. 
         "Oh Frannie," he sighed as he pulled the car door closed,
shutting out the cold, and headed back to the station. "Why didn't ya tell
me?" 
         He had to find a way to get past her fear of him being angry so
that they could talk about this. Frannie never worried about upsetting him
before. Sometimes she seemed to revel in pushing his patience to the
limit, but this was different from their usual sibling rivalry. 
         Francesca was truly afraid of Ray hating her, blaming her, and
Ray had to admit that he had probably given her every cause to think that
because of the way he treated her at times. When he thought about it,
really considered his past behavior, he realized his aggravation and
impatience with his little sister had caused him to be just like their
father. He contemplated all the times he had snapped at her, put her down,
humiliated her, especially in front of the Mountie. Sure, she came right
back at him, her tongue was just as sharp, but Ray had always just thought
of their bickering as a game. 
         He remembered being in the interview with Francesca, the day he'd
found out about her nightly visit to Fraser's. She had been furious at him
for interfering in her life, put him in his place good and proper, but he
told her why he said the things he had, why he was worried. They had
embraced and things were good again, but he couldn't help wishing he could
have taken back what he said about girls like her and guys like Benny. He
hadn't meant it as an insult. He was just trying to protect her. 
         Francesca still openly pursued Fraser, so Ray assumed nothing he
had said had made a difference, but apparently it had. He wondered if
Fraser had sensed his disapproval as well, and maybe that was why he had
tried to distance himself from Francesca. If Ray truly believed they would
be happy together, he wouldn't stand in their way. He loved them both, but
it seemed his arrogance and protectiveness may have ruined everything. 
         He considered talking to Fraser about it. He had gotten used to
the Mountie helping him solve some of his problems, and perhaps he would
have some ideas of how to approach Francesca, but then he thought better
of it. Somehow, Ray knew the Mountie would find a way to deflect the blame
onto himself and the Detective couldn't allow that. One depressed martyr
was enough for him to deal with at the moment. 
  
  

         At the station, Ray was surprised when he walked in to find
Fraser waiting for him at his desk. It was not even yet eight O'clock and
Benny usually pulled guard duty until noon. Fraser was dressed in civilian
clothes, blue jeans, ivory turtleneck and his brown jacket and Stetson. 
         "Hey, Benny," he greeted, forcing a smile to his lips, as he
dropped the file on his desk. "Yer here early. The Dragon Lady let ya off
yer leash fer the day, or what?" 
         "I requested some personal time and Inspector Thatcher was kind
enough to grant it to me, Ray," Fraser replied quietly and Ray frowned. 
         Nothing short of hospitalization would usually convince Fraser to
take any time off work, despite that the dependable Mountie probably had
over a year's worth of sick and vacation days coming to him. Something was
really bothering his partner and Ray meant to find out what. 
         "I was just gonna grab some breakfast, anyway, Benny," he
assured, moving back around his desk. "Come with me and we can talk." 
         "Thank you kindly, Ray," Fraser agreed gratefully and Ray noticed
some of the rigid tension flow from his uptight friend. 
         They walked to the corner dinner a block from the precinct and
selected their regular booth. Ray ordered a plate of eggs and sausage with
a cup of coffee, but Fraser requested only a couple of pieces of toast and
a glass of juice. 
         "That all yer gonna have, Benny," the detective scowled and
Fraser nodded, laying his Stetson on the seat beside him and folding his
hands upon the table, staring down at them. 
         "I am not very hungry, Ray," the Mountie explained, glancing out
at the gray mist of morning that shrouded the streets and cast a gloomy
mid-winter solace through the busy city of Chicago. 
         "What's goin' on, Fraser," Ray demanded gently. "Something on yer
mind?" 
         "No, not really," Fraser quipped, still avoiding his partner's
gaze, even when the waitress brought their orders. 
         Ray ate his casually. He wasn't really all that hungry himself,
but it had been an excuse to get Benny somewhere they could talk other
than that damned closet at the station. Fraser barely nibbled his toast. 
         "Talk ta me, Benny," he encouraged softly. "Ya know we're
friends, and friends share. If somethin's botherin' ya, maybe I can help."
Fraser sighed, actually sighed, and the sound startled the detective. 
         "It isn't anything really I...I suppose I..." Fraser shrugged,
obviously embarrassed to even be discussing this with someone. He shook
his head, perhaps deciding to forgo the discussion for the moment, and
changed the subject. "How is Francesca?" 
         "She's okay," Ray replied automatically, watching his friend
intently. "My brother is in town, thinkin' maybe he can straighten her out
on a few things." 
         "Ahh," Fraser replied and took a sip of his juice. "This is your
older brother?" 
         "Yah," Ray returned, popping a piece of sausage into his mouth.
It was nowhere close to his Mother's cooking, but Ray had taken to eating
out a lot lately, so it didn't really matter. "He said he'll probably come
by the station later. I promised to introduce you to him." 
         "Hmmm," Fraser agreed, pulling his toast apart, but leaving it
lay on the plate. 
         "Are ya gonna come to Christmas Dinner, Benny," Ray inquired. It
was the third time he had asked the Mountie, so he knew what Fraser's
response would be, yet he continued to ask. 
         "I...I do not believe that would be appropriate, Ray," he
returned on cue. 
         "Well, I don't care if it's appropriate or not, Benny, yer part
of my family and I want ya there fer Christmas," The detective countered
firmly. 
         "I don't think so, Ray, but thank you..." 
         "Yer comin' Fraser and dat's the end of it." 
         "Ray I don't..." 
         "Don't make me have ta tie ya to my car ta get ya there, Benny
because I'll do it, y'know." 
         "Please, Ray," Fraser sighed, suddenly sounding more tired and
defeated than Ray had ever heard as he caressed his brow, agitated. "I do
not wish to argue about this, I simply cannot attend. I am sorry." 
         "Give me a good reason and I might consider lettin' ya off da
hook," Ray challenged. 
         "I will not be here," Fraser replied quietly and Ray shot him a
startled glance. 
         "Where will you be," he asked suspiciously. 
         "I have requested some time off, Ray," Fraser stated. "I am going
to Canada for awhile." The Mountie was fully prepared for the look of
betrayal his partner shot him. 
         "When were ya gonna tell me, Benny," he questioned with a trace
of anger in his voice. Fraser blinked for a moment, but answered honestly
without hesitation. 
         "I only received an answer from Inspector Thatcher today, Ray.
That was why I came to see you." 
         "Why are ya goin' home," Ray demanded. "There's nothing dere for
you, no family, barely a shack to live in, so what the hell ya goin' back
fer, Benny?" 
         Fraser was silent and Ray hated his harsh words the moment he had
said them. It was cruel to remind the Mountie that he had no family left,
but he couldn't understand why his partner would want to be alone at
Christmas. 
         "At least ya got us here, Fraser," he reminded softly. "Someone
to spend the holidays with, people who care about ya and want ya with 'em.
We're yer family. " 
         "I am not a blood relation to you or any of your relatives, Ray,"
Fraser reminded firmly. "I have no family, as you have just pointed out,
and I do not care to..." He broke off suddenly and had the grace to look
chagrinned at what he was about to say. 
         He did care about the Vecchio's, he wanted to be there, spend
Christmas with them. They were his family, as Ray said, blood relation or
no, but he did not wish to upset Francesca. She was all he had thought
about lately. He had gone over and over what he may have done to hurt her
so badly that she no longer wanted to see him, but he could come up with
nothing. However, each and every time he had politely snubbed her advances
seemed to replay through his mind, and he worried that she had finally
just accepted he was a lost cause and decided to forgo any further
contact. 
         "Benny," Ray inquired softly. 
         It was the third time he had called to his partner, who was
looking very lost and far away. He was well aware of Fraser's feelings of
helplessness since his sister's accident, mostly because Frannie would not
allow the Mountie to even see her. Now it seemed his partner had come up
with a solution: leaving Chicago. 
         "I...I'm sorry Ray, did you say something," Fraser finally
answered. 
         "Cancel yer plans, Fraser," Ray encouraged. "Come to Christmas
dinner, please. I think it will help straighten out dis thing between you
and my sister." 
         "I don't wish to make her uncomfortable, Ray," Fraser insisted,
then under his breath, "I've hurt her enough." Ray had caught the discrete
mutter but decided not to comment. There was something between then,
whether Fraser admitted it or not. Now that Ray knew, he had to act fast. 
         "Okay then," he agreed. "Will ya at least come to dinner tonight,
see how dat goes?" 
         "I really prefer not to, Ray," Fraser replied automatically. 
         "Do you care about Frannie at all, Benny," Ray challenged and
watched his friend's surprised gaze finally meet his directly. 
         "What do you mean, Ray," he countered confused. 
         "How do you feel about my sister?" 
         Ray really didn't expect the Mountie to tell him outright. Fraser
could skirt the issue and play dumb better then anyone he knew, and in all
honesty it was making Ray slightly nauseous to be asking. He really didn't
want to know if there was anything between Fraser and Frannie. She was his
baby sister, and it was hard for him to admit anyone was good enough for
her. 
          He had honestly thought Frannie's infatuation was just like all
the other women's reactions to his partner's good looks and charm, but it
seemed Francesca did feel something deeper. Her happiness was all Ray
really cared about, so he would have to bite the bullet. 
         "I...I am unsure what you are asking, Ray," Fraser finally
stammered and got that Deer-In-The-Headlights look Frannie was so fond of
pointing out. 
         "You want her to get well don't you," Ray insisted. 
         "Of course!" 
         "Then listen to me and come to dinner. It will help." 
         "She doesn't wish to see me, Ray," Fraser reminded quietly. "You
heard her say..." 
         "A lot's happened since den," Ray dismissed. "I don't think
Frannie even knows what she wants anymore. She's hurt and confused and
missing Ma and blaming herself. I need yer help Benny. We have ta get her
outta dat pit she's climbed into." 
         "How, Ray," Fraser questioned. "I want to help in any way that I
can, but if she wishes no contact with me, won't my helping only be
hurting her further?" 
         "Trust me on this one, Benny," Ray suggested as he finished his
breakfast and tossed some bills on the table. "Com'ahn, since yer off,
let's go do some crime fighting." 
         "That sounds like a good idea, Ray," Fraser replied gratefully
and grabbed his Stetson from the seat. 

  
          Ray pulled into his driveway and shut off the engine, then
glanced at his silent partner, who sat rigidly in the seat and looked as
though he was about to face a shooting gallery rather than a family
dinner. Ray had called Maria to let her know he was bringing the Mountie
home, and Andrew decided to forgo the trip to the station, instead meeting
Fraser when they arrived. 
         "We're here, Benny," Ray offered softly, startling his friend
back from whatever place Fraser's thoughts had carried him to. 
         "Oh, yes, so we are," Fraser returned quietly as Ray opened the
door and got out. Fraser hesitated only a moment before doing the same,
holding the seat forward for Dief, before shutting the passenger door. He
didn't move away from the vehicle, just stood there stiffly and fiddled
with the Stetson in his hands. 
         "Benny," Ray encouraged, tossing an arm around him
affectionately. "I want to tell ya somethin' before we go in." 
         "Yes Ray," Fraser agreed, relishing the support of his friend's
arm and meeting Ray's gaze, eager to postpone entering the house. 
         "Ya know I love you as a brother, right?" 
         "And I you, Ray," Fraser concurred honestly, with a small smile 
         "Well, I...I just want ya to know..." Ray hesitated, searching
for the right words and hoping that just once Fraser would catch on to the
subtlety, and the detective wouldn't have to spell it out for him.
"Nothin' would make me happier if ya were... y'know...really my brother, a
part of my family." 
         "You mean if we were blood related, Ray," Fraser questioned and
Ray sighed, okay, so much for subtlety 
         "Well, okay, dat would be cool too, but I was speakin' more in
the way of...well, dere's all kinds of ways ta join a family, y'know?" 
         "Are you saying you wish to adopt me, Ray," Fraser teased and Ray
chuckled. 
         "No ya moron I..." he shook his head. "Just remember, no matter
what else I say or do, I love ya, okay? All the rest is just my Italian
temper and miscellaneous frustration, it doesn't mean anything." Fraser
stared at him for a long, confusing moment, then finally nodded. 
         "All right, Ray," he returned, obviously still puzzled. 
         "Good, let's go in." Ray decreed and Fraser was forced to follow.

         They stepped inside and Andrew came out of the kitchen to greet
them. Ray quickly made the introductions as they hung up their coats and
set Fraser's Stetson on the hall table, where it usually sat when the
Mountie visited. They made small talk, and Andrew immediately put Fraser
at ease by getting on the subject of his work in Africa. 
         "Why don't you guys trade stories," Ray suggested as Andrew led
Fraser into the living room. "I'm gonna go check on Frannie." Fraser
stiffened slightly, but Andrew nodded approvingly. 
         Ray knocked once on the door of Francesca's bedroom and waited
until she called for him to answer. He stepped inside, glad that the
lights were on. Probably Andrew's doing, so he could see his sister
clearly. Usually she kept the room in darkness, since she could not see
anything anyway. She was sitting in the chair that faced the window, still
in her night clothes. 
         "Hey Frannie," he greeted softly, closing the door and leaning
against it. She rose and turned toward him, her face anxious. "How you
feeling, honey?" 
         "I...I should be mad at you," she managed quietly, fidgeting with
her hair and her robe belt. "I told you not to call Andy." 
         "I guess I didn't hear you," Ray returned easily and she almost
smiled. 
         "Do you ever," she shot and he moved to take hold of her hands. 
         "Not enough, probably," he admitted gently as she tilted her face
toward him, startled. "I...I thought it was the right thing to do and...it
seems it might have helped a little?" She bowed her head shyly and nodded.
"Good. Dat's good, Frannie. You know I'd never intentionally hurt ya." She
nodded again. 
         "I know," she agreed softly and Ray felt a gentle reprieve from
his guilt. "I...Andy says I should talk to you, but...I don't know how." 
         "Seems we have da same problem," Ray replied, again surprising
her. "I don't know how ta talk to you either, Frannie, and I'm sorry fer
that. I never...I never noticed how..." He caressed her cheek
affectionately, despite the scar. "I never realized what a beautiful woman
you've grown up to be, and I...I guess I just couldn't think of ya as
anything but my baby sister." 
         "I'm not a baby, Ray," she insisted indignantly and he chuckled. 
         "I know...now," he allowed and she smiled again. "I'm sorry,
Frannie." 
         "For what," she asked, puzzled. Ray sighed and cupped her face,
placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. 
         "For not listening to you, for assuming you'd always be my
responsibility and that I'd always know what was best fer ya. I don't,
y'know. I'm makin' it up as I go along." 
         Francesca stared at him with unseeing, tear filled eyes. It
amazed him how he could still see all that fire and feeling in their
depths, but they could not see him. 
         "You were just bein' a brother," she soothed in a shaky voice. "I
always liked dat ya wanted to protect me, but..." 
         "I went too far," Ray finished grimly and she nodded slowly. "I
can't promise ta stop worrying about ya, Frannie, or buttin' my nose into
yer life when I think yer gonna get hurt, but...I promise ta be a little
less obvious about it." 
         "Ray..." she began biting her lip. "A...About Ma..." Ray hushed
her and placed his thumb to her lips. 
         "I know," he stated and her eyes grew wide as a tear of distress
spilled out of one corner helplessly. "I heard part of what ya said to
Andy." She started to sob and he pulled her to him. "Hush baby, it's okay.
I don't blame you. I blame myself for not protecting you better." 
         "Y...you couldn't help w...what happened...y...you can't protect
me f...from accidents." 
         "No, I know that," Ray agreed, continuing to hold her. "I meant
protect you better from me, Frannie." He heard her gasp in surprised. "I
should have protected you from my arrogance and my selfishness. I finally
realized how rotten I've been to you, treating you like ya didn't have a
brain in yer head and I'm so sorry, Frannie. I'm no better den Pop was." 
        " No," Francesca refused, pulling back and reaching up to find his
face with her hands, surprised to find it wet with his own tears. "Yer
nothin' like Pop, Ray. He hurt us out of meanness and spite. You were
doin' it out of love. You and me always fight, it's how we are, but I know
you'd always be dere to protect me and let me cry on yer shoulder, Ray. I
know you love me. Please don't think I don't love ya back just as much
because yer mouth runs away wit ya sometimes." 
         "I do love you," Ray whispered, folding his arms around her
again, distressed to find her tiny frame so painfully thin. "I want things
to be better again. Help me do that, Frannie. I'm da head of the family
now, but I don't know what to do. Ya gotta help me. I need you ta tell me
what I'm doin' wrong." 
         "I'm sorry fer being such a bitch, for makin' things harder on
you," she stated softly. "Will ya forgive me?" 
         "If you'll forgive me," Ray returned huskily and she squeezed him
harder. 
          "Yer doin' everything right, bro," she whispered back, smiling
even as her tears continued to run. "Yer doin' a great job. Ma'd be
proud." 
         It was what Ray needed to hear most and she held him tight as he
released the anguish he had been holding inside for so long. His strong
body was wracked with painful sobs and shaking uncontrollably. He'd been
unable to let go of his grief, unable to cleanse himself of the guilt of
not protecting his family, but Francesca seemed to understand and she knew
how to fix it. Now they would both heal. 
         After what seemed like hours, but was actually only a few
minutes, they parted and tried to compose themselves. 
         "I...Frannie, ya probably will hate me fer dis, but I...I brought
Benny home to dinner," Ray admitted and he watched a measure of different
emotions cross his sister's face, before she nodded. 
         "O...Okay," she replied. 
         "Are you gonna eat wit us," he requested, and she shook her head.
"Frannie, please, he's nervous enough about being here." 
         "Why?'" 
         "He doesn't want to upset you," Ray stated. "He...I asked him
about Christmas dinner, and ya know what he told me? He said he was takin'
time off and goin' back ta canada fer da holidays." 
         "So," Francesca demanded. "It is his home, Ray." 
         "He doesn't want to go away and be alone fer Christmas, Frannie,"
Ray insisted. "I can see how lonely he is when I look at him and dere's no
one fer him in Canada." 
         "What does any of this have ta do wit me, Ray," she sighed. 
         "Don't ya get it? He's leavin' because he doesn't want ta make me
have ta chose between him and you. He knows I want him to spend Christmas
with us, but he also knows you don't want him here. He's doin' it fer you,
Frannie, so you won't be hurt." 
         "What should it matter to him," she huffed and returned to her
chair. Ray sighed and rounded to face her, leaning against the window. "I
don't mean anything to him. You were right, I was just being a pest." 
         "Frannie, I wasn't right, I was an idiot," Ray declared. "I
didn't want you likin' Fraser dat way because he's my partner, and yer my
sister. Anyway, I think part of da reason Benny hasn't accepted any of yer
advances is because of me. He's really worried about you, sis. I see it in
his face. He's seemed so lost the past couple of months. I think he misses
you but is afraid to admit it." 
         "Ray Vecchio, you had better not be playing with me," she
demanded furiously, rising to her feet before him once again. "If you
thought Fraser really was interested in me, you'd be doing everything to
keep us apart. So, what's yer angle?" 
         "I swear I don't have one," he insisted. "I was an idiot before.
I told you dat. I just want you and Benny to be happy. I admit the idea
that you both might need each other to do that gives me the shakes, but if
it's what you want..." 
         "Yer serious," she exclaimed shocked. 
         "Give him a chance, Frannie. See where it leads and I promise not
to get in the way, but don't punish yerself for something that you
couldn't help." 
         They stared at each other for a long time, then finally Frannie
dropped back into her chair, resigned, and Ray sensed he had lost the
battle. 
         "Could you ask Maria to come in, please," she requested quietly
and he sighed in defeat. No doubt Frannie would ask their sister to bring
her meal to the room again. He shook his head disappointed. 
         "Okay, Frannie," he agreed reluctantly and moved toward the door.
"Whatever makes you happy." 
  

         It was Christmas Eve and Ray had talked Fraser into staying in
Chicago and celebrating the holidays with them. The Mountie had been
reluctant to do so, since the last time he was at dinner, Francesca
remained in her room and did not make an appearance. But between his
partner, Andrew and Maria, he was roped into coming, despite his
trepidation. It was the first big family meal they had attempted since the
passing of Ma Vecchio, and though the kids and everyone seemed in good
spirits, the emptiness was felt by all who loved the beloved woman. 
         They decided to have their family dinner on Christmas Eve,
instead of Christmas Day, because the family intended to spend the day
visiting family and their mother's grave. Andrew, Tony and Fraser brought
the dinner Maria and Andrew had cooked from the kitchen and Ray set it on
the table, still unable to set foot in his mother's kitchen. Everyone
understood that. 
         Maria had disappeared some while ago into Francesca's room,
perhaps to set up her sister's private meal, and Diefenbaker was trying to
stay out of everyone's way. He settled close to the kitchen door in case
anyone dropped something off the plates they were carrying. 
         Finally almost everyone was seated about the table and trying not
to notice the three empty chairs usually taken up by the women of the
family. Ray had gone to Francesca's door to tell Maria they were ready to
say grace, and was surprised when it opened and both his sisters stood
waiting for him, dressed in their Christmas best. 
         "Care to escort a lady to dinner, Brother dear," Francesca
requested, knowing him by the scent of his cologne, as Maria grinned
happily and headed off toward the dining room on her own. Ray placed her
hand on his arm gently. 
         "Are ya sure about this, Frannie," he offered softly, and she
nodded. 
         "I'm through with hiding," she declared, and he smiled and kissed
her cheek. 
         "Then let's go eat," he suggested and guided her into the dining
room. 
         He was sure she would laugh at all the startled, happy faces that
were staring back at her as he guided her around the table, surprisingly
toward his chair instead of hers on the other side. Fraser stood politely
and Ray noticed his eyes never moved from Francesca's face. 
         "Good evening, Francesca," he greeted with trepidation as he held
out the chair for her, before exchanging a curious glance with his
partner. He was rewarded with her brightest smile and couldn't help
smiling back in relief. 
         "Merry Christmas, Benton," she returned softly as she settled
into her chair and Ray rounded to the other side. 
     They got through dinner without mishap, though many eyes continued to
flick toward the still empty chair where their Mother should be.
Afterwards, when they started to clear things away, Francesca requested
that Fraser sit with her on the porch outside. After retrieving their
coats, the Mountie complied and they settled in the porch swing, Francesca
staring off ahead but seeing nothing. 
         "I...I'm sorry for being so mean to you, Frase," she offered
kindly, startling him. He hadn't expected that. She had nothing to be
sorry for. The Mountie understood her desire to only be tended to by her
family. He could not fault her. 
         "There is no need to apologize.." he began but she cut him off, 
         "Does it disgust you," she demanded. She had to know the truth,
and she knew he wouldn't lie to her. 
         "Does...does what disgust me, Francesca," he countered, confused,
and she reached for his hand to place it against her scarred cheek. 
         "Me," she whispered, relieved that he didn't pull away as he
usually did when she allowed herself contact with him. "My...my ugliness.
My blindness." She heard his sharp intake of breath. "Please, be honest.
You said you would never lie to me, Benton." 
         "There is no need to lie," he assured gently, and she felt his
thumb caress her flesh softly. "Did you really think I would be?" 
         "I...you..." she shook her head, then nodded numbly. She was
shocked when she felt his large hand grasp her other cheek, cradling her
face tenderly. 
         "Is that what this is all about? You were worried I
wouldn't...that I would think of you as...damaged?" Again she nodded. "Oh
Francesca, no. No, I do not think that at all. I am astounded by your
courage. You have are a wonder to me that you have survived all that has
happened." Francesca stared at him, shocked. 
         "Y...you really mean that, don't you?" 
         "I don't lie, Francesca," he reminded quietly and allowed his
hands to drop to his lap, causing her to immediately miss their warmth. 
         "I...I just...yer used to seeing me...well... attractive, sexy,
alluring...at...at least I tried ta make you see me dat way." She bit her
lip. "I...now I'm blind and all scarred up. Doesn't that bother you? The
difference I mean?" 
         Fraser was silent for a long time and she worried that she had
put him on the spot. She knew he had difficulty discussing his feelings,
but she had to know if Ray was right and all her attempts with him had not
been thwarted by her accident. When he finally spoke, he was so quiet she
almost had to strain to hear him. 
         "My grandmother was a traveling librarian and occasionally taught
school in some of the more isolated villages," he stated. "When I was
nineteen, a fire threatened to destroy one of those villages. My
grandmother was badly burned trying to save the children there.
Occasionally we would meet people who would turn away from her, either in
revulsion or sympathy, because of the scarring the burns had caused, but
my grandmother never let it bother her. She never regretted her actions on
that day. Her courage saved the lives of numerous children." He paused.
"My grandmother was considered a handsome woman before the fire, but I...I
always thought she was even more stunning afterwards, because she never
allowed me to see anything but the beauty that was her." 
         "Was...did your grandfather...was he upset," Francesca found
herself asking. 
         "My grandparents were not affectionate people, not the way you
and your family are," he admitted. "However, I don't think it changed the
way he looked at her, or felt about her." He reached up and touched her
cheek again, tracing the scar. "Any more than this will not change how I
see you, Francesca. How anyone will see you." 
         "But I can't see," she protested. "Doesn't that bother you at
all?" 
         "I would give anything for you to have your sight back,
Francesca," he offered kindly. "But whether you can see or not doesn't
change who you are, not to me, and not to your family." 
         "Ray thinks...Ray says that you...you were worried about
me...upset because..." she broke off and bit her lip, but Fraser knew what
she meant. He'd had a long time to think about what he would say to her if
she ever gave him another chance. 
         "I...I was concerned I had done something wrong, something to
offend you," he allowed, and she shook her head. 
         "No, it was me. I was just so afraid..." Again she shook her
head, frustrated. "Please forgive me for hurting you, Benton. I didn't
mean to do it." She shivered from the cold and he stood, pulling her with
him. 
         "Let's head inside before you catch a chill." 
         "You didn't answer my question," she reminded but allowed him to
guide her to the door. 
         "There is no need for forgiveness, Francesca," he deflected
promptly, pushing it open. "You did nothing wrong." He pushed a stray dark
curl back from her face. "I assume then that we are...okay again? Back to
normal?" 
         "Depends," she returned bravely. "How can I chase you if I can't
see you," she teased gently and he smiled. 
         "I suppose I will just have to stop running then," he offered and
she gasped in surprise. 
         "Do...don't you...I mean what...you think we..." 
         "I've missed you, Francesca," he whispered and leaned down to
press his lips to hers in a soft kiss. "Merry Christmas." 
         "W...why," she gaped at him in delight and shock. 
         "You have mistletoe over your door," he commented as he ushered
her inside and she blushed happily. 
         "Hey Maria," Ray called, seeing them as he entered the hallway.
"Benny's givin' away free kisses!" 
         Fraser blushed as Maria hurried out and promptly demanded one,
much to her husband's chagrin. Fraser dutifully bent and kissed her cheek
and she blushed happily and walked away, threatening to never wash her
face again. 
         "Do I get one too," Andrew inquired wickedly and Francesca
giggled as Ray grinned at his brother's boldness. He was shocked and
slightly impressed when Fraser kissed Andrew's cheek as well and the
younger man pretended to swoon. 
         "Do you require one as well, Ray," Fraser taunted, since his
partner had gotten him into this. Ray grinned and stuck out his hand. 
         "Shake will do, Benny," he assured, and Fraser clasped his hand,
fully prepared for the tug that drew him into the Italian's arms. "Thanks
Benny, she looks radiant again." Fraser smiled and nodded as he took
Francesca's hand and guided her toward the living room. 
         Ray headed automatically for the dining room to tell Maria to
hurry up with their coffee, but Maria wasn't there. He stopped at the
doorway and stared at the tray his sister had set on the table, then
forgotten. He looked around the darkened kitchen. Once again that feeling
of dread crawled up his spine and he tried to shake it away. He knew the
coffee would get cold if he didn't bring it in, but he couldn't make
himself step across the linoleum. 
         "Such fine, strong young men I have to take care of me and my
children." His mother's voice seemed to whisper around him, reminding him
of his failure to protect him. God Ma, I'm so sorry, he cried silently.
I'm sorry I didn't protect you. "Enough of this nonsense. Tend to your
guests, Raimundo." I can't Ma, I can't take that first step. I can't stop
wishing you were here. "I am here, caro. I am always here, my darling. I
have earned my rest and you have earned your place as head of our family.
You make me so proud, Raimundo. Your Mama loves you so much." 
         "I love you, Ma," he whispered and started to turn away, 
         He suddenly heard her voice again, sharply calling his name. He
turned back automatically. His eyes filled with tears as his mother
appeared before him, her arms held out invitingly. 
         "No goodbye kiss for your Mama," she demanded, her eyes twinkling
in merriment. 
         Out of habit, Ray stepped into her embrace dutifully and kissed
her cheek. He felt her arms hug him tight, then suddenly he was alone in
the middle of the kitchen and she was gone. He glanced around, dazed,
wondering if he was finally going over the edge, and then he looked down
at himself. 
         He raised his left hand shakily and watched the light from the
hall catch on the small gold and onyx ring wrapped round his pinky. It had
been his father's, passed down from three generations. When Joe Vecchio
died, Mrs. Vecchio had taken to wearing it as head of the family. 
         Ma always teased Ray that she would give it to him, but only when
he was grown up enough to accept the responsibility of caring for their
family. It was a secret joke between them, for Ray had long since taken
over the finances and other aspects of the Vecchio household, though Ma
was still in charge. 
         He had forgotten about it until now. Yet here it was on his
finger and he didn't remember ever putting it there. As far as he knew,
his mother had been buried with it. He felt the warmth of her arms once
again and released a soft cry, as he tightened his fist over the ring. 
         "Arrivedercie, Mamma," he whispered as a single tear slid from
his eye, even as he smiled. "Resto bene." 
  

The end 
  
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