Keeping Warm    Rated PG for m/m. If you don't like it, don't eat it,
as my grandmama used to say. :-)  

 Disclaimer : I hereby announce that none of the characters portrayed here
belongs to me...unfortunately. They belong to Alliance. Why? I do not
know, perhaps it's one of those karma things...*shrug* 

 This is for Margaret, Nancy and Snowcloud, the bestest girlfriends any
gal could have! And Rachel, lovely, lovely Rachel!, who deserves oodles
upon oodles of accolades for beta-reading for me! Thanks ever so! *happy
sniff* 

 Keeping Warm by Valencia 

 Although Fraser would never admit it, he was tired. His legs and back
ached horrendously after what seemed to be an eternity of sentry duty and
he was now having very kind thoughts of his bed. Ray had teased him about
this aspect of his job frequently, and though he had never admitted to it,
Fraser did actually loath guard duty with a deep and deadly dislike. 

 Seconds that turned into long, seemingly unending minutes that became
immeasurable hours, of just...standing. It was torture at it's purest
form. There was only so much a man could entertain himself with while
standing absolutely immobile. Fraser had already recited his entire
repertoire of Inuit stories in his head and, surprisingly enough, some he
wasn't even aware of his familiarity with. Even more inexplicably,
somehow, lyrics of old Abba songs keep running unceasingly through his
mind until he could recite from memory alone, 'Take A Chance On Me', back
to back and side to side. 

 It was rather...annoying. 

 It was only with a tremendous effort was he able to suppress the
lingering, irritating and yet somehow, *compelling* tune from his tired
brain. 

 Of course, none of these thoughts were displayed on his face, he was a
trained Mountie after all. A red-suited figure that could have been carved
out of marble and whose face was stiffer than that of a stone statue,
standing in front of the building. 

 But it was with more than a little relief when his shift ended and he was
able to stretch his head imperceptibly. He winced when he heard the joint
in his neck pop with an audible sound. 

 He entered the Consulate to inform that he was proceeding home and then
went out again to wait for Ray who had promised to pick him up after work.


 It was a chilly day, the sky was overcast with dark, heavy clouds and in
the approaching twilight, despite the material of his uniform, the cold
began to penetrate through the thick red serge and started to envelope his
body with clammy fingers. 

 The minutes ticked by and still Ray hadn't appeared in the Riv. Fraser
assumed that perhaps there was a mild traffic congestion on the roads that
prevented his friend from reaching him. 

 He stood, back ramrod straight, with his hands clasped behind his back
and waited patiently and as he did, the opening chorus of the song
'Fernando' started up in his head in full throated rendition and he
grimaced 

 A full half hour passed before Fraser started to get worried. Ray still
hadn't appeared. Something was wrong, his friend had been late before but
never this late. Pricklings of worry started to invade his mind with
light, insidious caresses and he felt uneasy all over. He was debating
whether to go back inside the Consulate to phone the precinct or contact
Ray's home when Turnbull stuck his head out of the door and told him
cheerily that there was a call for him. 

 After thanking the other Constable gravely, Fraser, feeling relieved,
walked back in for the second time to the nearest phone, picked up the
extension, and expected to hear Ray's familiar voice on the other line,
probably with an explanation for his tardiness. However, it wasn't Ray but
Elaine. 

 "Fraser? That you?" Her tone of voice was subdued and Fraser could detect
an undercurrent of tenseness running underneath it. 

 Something was very wrong. And the pricklings came back in full force
andbecame hammerblows. 

 "Elaine? What can I do for you?" He asked courteously, even though every
nerve in his body was screaming that something was not *right* and the
wrongness had to do with Ray. 

 "It's Ray. He's been injured, shot and his condition..." Elaine's voice
trailed off into indistinct mumbles. Fraser stopped listening and his
heart felt like it had metamorphosed into solid stone inside his body and
the weight was pulling him down. All that was running through his mind,
like the way those Abba songs did a while back, only now it was just four
single words, in repeat. 

 Ray. Had. Been. Shot. 

 He recovered from his fear, a fear as dark and gaping as the maw of a
hungry predator, to register the name of the hospital before sprinting out
of the building. 

 He didn't bother to put the phone back on it's hook before he ran out. 


**************************************************************************
*** 

 "Hey, Benny, you look like you seen a ghost. I don't look *that* bad, do
I?" 

 Ray grinned weakly as he lay upon the bed in the bare, sterile-looking
hospital room. 

 "You look fine, Ray." But Fraser was lying and as usual, wasn't doing it
very well. His entire face reflected his dismay at the sight of Ray's
appearance and worry shone through. Ray looked terrible, white and pale as
if all the blood from his body had been leeched out and not a single drop
was left. His face was so bloodless that his brilliant eyes, always so
full of wry and cynical amusement, stood out in stark relief from the rest
of his features. It was as if someone had taken away the vivid and vibrant
man that Fraser knew so well and left a pale, washed-out carbon copy
instead on the bed before him. 

 "Benny, you're so transparent that they could use you for window panes."
But Ray had noticed Fraser's distress and snorted derisively. "I look like
shit." And grinned again at Fraser's voracious denials that he didn't.
Benny was really terrible at lying. "But chill out, okay? It's worse than
it seems. Bullet went right through my shoulder. See?" He pulled the blue
hospital gown down a little so that Fraser could take a look for himself
the white bandages that encircled his left shoulder. "No lasting damage.
Just one very sore Italian cop." 

 "What happened?" 

 "Nothin', I got careless, that's all. Drug bust and one of the dealers,
just a kid really, pulled a gun at me. I didn't have time to duck." Ray
shrugged, or at least he tried too, for a spasm crossed his sharp-featured
face when he did, as though even this slight movement pained him. "Turned
out he had been tripping on cocaine. Took three men to hold him down at
last. "Teenagers!" And rolled his eyes when he finished. 

 "I'm sorry, Ray." Fraser apologised inexplicably. 

 "For what? You weren't the one who shot me *this* time." Ray laughed at
his own joke, a small wheezing sound that turned into hacking coughs,
causing Fraser to hover over him worriedly. "I'm okay, just a little bit
tired." Ray recovered his breath enough to speak and he did sound terribly
weary. He closed his eyes then and lay so still that Fraser thought he was
asleep. 

 The Mountie stood over the side of the bed and gazed down at Ray, who
looked so frighteningly weak and vulnerable. 

 It scared Fraser to see him like this. 

 I should have been there to help him, he berated himself bitterly, I
should have been *there*. 

 But he hadn't been there, and this was the result of his negligence. A
sudden vision of another kind of bed that Ray could have been lying on if
the gunman's aim had been more accurate, a cold marble slab, entered his
mind and wouldn't go away. It clung to his mind with the persistence of a
leech. 

 "Benny?" Ray suddenly spoke up without opening his eyes, and the sound of
his voice caused the other man to start a little. 

 "Ray, do you need anything?" Fraser's voice was a trifle unsteady as he
asked. The terrifying image of Ray, dead and stretched out on a coroner's
table, kept replaying itself in his mind until he thought he was going to
scream. 

 "Make sure when your shift is over, you go home alive, here endeth the
lesson." Ray cracked open one eyelid to say. "Sean Connery said that to
Kevin Costner in 'The Untouchables'. Great line, great movie, great death
scene and great advice, don't you think?" 

 "Yes, Ray, That is very good advice." Fraser nodded, unable to go on.
Yes, Ray was alive and that was all that mattered. 

 All that was important. 

 "Glad you think so. Now park yourself in that chair. I need some sleep
before my entire body falls apart if it hasn't already. I feel like a
walking jigsaw puzzle, ferchristsakes." Ray closed his eyes completely,
burrowed down comfortably back into the pillows and from the even
breathing Fraser heard, minutes later, he knew that Ray had really fallen
asleep this time. The detective had seemed to take it for granted that
Fraser would stay by his side and...he was right. Fraser settled in the
chair as Ray had directed and kept a waking vigil over his wounded friend.



**************************************************************************
*** 

 It had been three days before the hospital released Ray and Fraser had
been with him the entire time. Welsh, Elaine, Huey and some of the people
at the precinct had all dropped by to visit and although Ray didn't show
it, he being rather embarrassed by all the attention, Fraser knew that he
had been pleased and touched by their concern. Ray was as prickly as a
hedgehog sometimes, but like all hedgehogs, the thorny exterior was only
to protect a soft underbelly. Fraser had thought this once about Ray's
character and had shared the quaint observation with his friend. "You
think I'm a hedgehog?"Ray had exclaimed when he heard, a look of amusement
and annoyance fighting for dominance on his expressive face. "A
*hedgehog*?! The man thinks I'm a hedgehog. What next? Comparisons with
the Easter bunny??" 

 Fraser had requested for leave of absence from the Consulate to take care
of Ray despite the detective's protests that he was fine. Someone had to
be around Ray while he was recovering because Mrs Vecchio and the entire
family including Frannie were out-of-town, visiting some relatives in
Evanston, and weren't due back for the next couple of days. Ray had made
Fraser promise not to tell them about the shooting. 

 "Ma will only fuss and God only knows what Frannie might do." He had told
Fraser, rolling his eyes at the thought of the highly excitable Francesca.
"I'll be fine, Benny. Jeez, anyone would think I was this breath away from
kicking the bucket from the way you act." To emphasise, Ray separated his
thumb and finger by mere millimetres. 

 In fact, Fraser did know that he was being overprotective but he couldn't
help himself. The doctor had told Fraser, aside, that the detective needed
rest and plenty of it or he was liable to run a high fever due to the
gunshot wound. 

 A Mountie always takes his responsibilities seriously and meticulously.
And looking after Ray, his best friend in all the world, was his
responsibility and one that he'll undertook gladly after all that Ray had
done for him. 

 So all he said was an, "I'm sorry if I'm annoying you, Ray...Are you warm
enough?" The air that greeted them as the hospital doors swooshed shut
behind them was as sharp and cold as a knife pressed against a bared
throat and Fraser was worried about Ray's weakened condition which would
make him very prone to chills now. He started to shrug off his leather
jacket with the intention of offering it to his friend. 

 "Yeah, I'm warm enough so just lay off, okay?" Irritation coloured Ray's
voice as he replied and he flapped one hand at Fraser as if he was shooing
away a clucking hen. He hated being fussed over. But Fraser ignored him
and draped the jacket over the detective's thin shoulders. As he did that,
his hand brushed across Ray's arm and for the barest second, he let it
stay there, feeling the heat of skin underneath the layers of cloth before
taking it away. Ever since the shooting, Fraser had been finding chances
to touch Ray. Nothing much, just a light pat here and a soft caress there
as if to assure himself that Ray was really alive and next to him. He was
never, as Ray would put it, a touchy-feely sort of person and now this
constant *need* to feel Ray, to feel his warm skin beneath his fingertips
was...confusing to say the least. 

 He shook off the thought and filed it at the back of his mind, resolving
to think about it another time. 

 Ray, who didn't notice anything, shrugged the jacket off immediately and
was about to hand it back when he saw Fraser's face and sighed gloomily
for the Mountie was wearing THAT look on his face again. The big-eyed
Mountie look that Ray was sure was illegal in some states for Fraser's all
too frequent use of it. 

 "Awright already! I'll wear the damned thing, just quit staring at me
like that." Ray growled out as he put his arms through the sleeves and
when he did, he surveyed himself with a look of disgust for the cuffs
reached past his hands and dangled down. "Thanks, Benny, thanks a lot. Now
I look like a kid wearing his big brother's hand-me-downs." 

 Fraser just smiled and walked towards the green Riv parked in front.
Really, Ray's susceptibility to THE look was quite amusing and almost
adorable in certain ways. 

 "Hey, girl, missed me?" Ray ran a hand over the gleaming hood lovingly as
he opened the car door. 

 "Ah. Ray, considering the nature of your injury, driving could prove
unwise. The doctor had advised you to put as little strain on your wounded
shoulder as possible. Are you sure you are able to--?" Fraser started and
broke off when his friend turned to glare at him in a way that could not
be mistaken as cordial. But Fraser was just as determined and Ray saw that
determination in the stubborn set to the other man's jaw and sighed yet
again. 

 "Okay, *okay*, take the keys. See if I care. You're worse than Ma, I
swear! Just make sure you don't blow her up again or I swear on my Grandma
Vecchio's grave, God rest her soul, that I'll never speak to you as long
as I live!" Ray tossed the keys over to Fraser, switched places and tried
to make himself comfortable in the passenger seat, sulking a little like a
thwarted child as he did. 

 Fraser stared at the shiny keys in his hand for a while, a bit astonished
that Ray would have given in so easily. But the reason for that soon
became known when he slid in behind the wheel, eased the car out of the
parking lot and started driving towards the Vecchios' household. Being a
careful and conscientious driver, although Ray would have probably
described it otherwise, he kept his eyes on the road at all times and his
speed did not exceed the limit set by the road authorities which, though
extremely commendable, prompted furious honking from the cars behind him
as he drove. 

 But Fraser blissfully ignored them, thinking that they were honking at
another car, and continued to drive with the speed of that of a dyspeptic
snail. 

 But when a sweet grey-haired lady sitting behind the wheel of a pink
cadillac made a rude gesture at him, using a certain digit of her right
hand as she screeched past the Riv, Fraser, who had smiled politely back
at her when she did, was forced to glance over to his friend. 

 He started to say, in a bemused tone, "Ray, did you see that? How
strange. I wonder wh..." And stopped. Ray had been usually quiet during
the ride and Fraser saw now why that was so. 

 Ray was sleeping. 

 His head was pillowed comfortably against the car window and his chest
rose in deep, even breaths. At that moment, scrunched up into Fraser's
jacket that was a size too big for his slender frame, Ray looked so very
young and defenceless that the owner of the said jacket had to resist an
urge to tuck him more comfortably into the seat. 

 The rest of the way was thus driven in silence and was only remarkable
for the way the driver went out of his way to avoid pot holes, gesturing
old ladies, sudden halts, road bumps and other miscellaneous obstacles.
Anything that would disturb the sweet slumber of one very tired Italian
cop. 


**************************************************************************
*** 

 "Ray, stop worrying at it. You'll only make it worse." 

 "I can't help it! This stupid itch is driving me nuts." Ray ignored
Fraser's reprimand and continued to reach inside his shirt and scratch
around his gauze bandage, making the skin red and rashy looking. 

 "Ray, stop that." Fraser spoke firmly and reached over to grasp Ray's
wrist to stop him. The feel of that delicate wrist in his fingers
distracted him, like this morning at the hospital, it was with reluctance
that he let go of Ray's hand. Ray, noticing nothing, gave up the
scratching, though reluctantly, and tried to distract himself by watching
some television instead. 

 They had finished the dinner Fraser had cooked. Nothing fancy, but Fraser
had made sure that the meal would be nourishing and nutritious. Ray would
need all the strength he could get for a quick recovery. Already, the
pale, sick look had gone from Ray's face. He looked much better and was
back to being his usual volatile self again, namely giving Fraser a
running commentary on the movie screening. 

 "I can't believe that guy did that!" He was saying in an incredulous
tone. "I mean, how stupid can you get? Wait, I take that back, pretty
stupid, according to him. There, you see, I knew the idiot would get
clobbered. See, I told you so but you wouldn't listen me, wouldya!" And
yelled at the actor on the screen. But Fraser wasn't really listening to
Ray either, although he did give distracted non-committal answers at
appropriate times, ranging from 'Yes, Ray', 'No, Ray', 'I don't think so,
Ray.'. 

 Something had been nagging at Fraser's mind the entire night, little
nibbles like that of a persistent mouse picking at the edge of his
awareness and he knew it had to do with his recent compulsion to touch Ray
after the shooting. But every time, when it seemed that he had it, he
didn't. Whatever it was would fall through the cracks of his mind once
more, like a slippery fish, and he would be left feeling restless and
unsatisfied. 

 As he sat silent and withdrawn, another kind of silence hit him as he and
Ray sat on the couch before the TV in the Vecchios' living room. He
focused on it long enough to realised that Ray's house was
actually...quiet. Even the sounds emanating from the television set seemed
almost muted compared to the normal nightly chaos of the robust Italian
family. 

 For example, Francesca screaming in the background that she can't find
her hairdryer. 

 Mrs Vecchio humming in the kitchen as she washed the dishes. 

 Maria and Tony having another tiff as they argued heatedly and repeatedly
whether Tony's mother liked or hated Maria with a deadly passion. 

 Maria and Tony's children running amok around the house, trying their
very best to morph into super teenagers from a fictional town in
California. 

 The first time he had been introduced to them, overwhelmed would have
been a gross understatement of Fraser's reaction. But despite that he
wouldn't have changed a single member of the Vecchio clan for anything in
the world. For they had accepted him unconditionally, especially Mrs
Vecchio who treated him like another son, as part of their extended family
and for that, he was grateful. He always had trouble relating his feelings
around people he cared about, the result of his upbringing by two elderly
guardians, his grandparents. They had loved him, that he was sure of, and
he loved them back too. But that love had been reserved and distant,
unlike the free and easy affection demonstrated by the Vecchios, whose
caring for each other was openly evident and who were not shy or uneasy
about showing it. 

 

 Fraser envied them. 

 "Quiet, isn't it?" Ray, sitting next to him, commented suddenly, breaking
into his thoughts. 

 So Ray had noticed the almost unnatural silence. 

 Fraser smiled a little in reply. "It does seems rather strange without
the rest of your family here, Ray." 

 "But nice. Don't get me wrong, I love them all, even Frannie." Ray spoke
wryly but there was genuine affection in his eyes as he talked about his
sister. "But they can really drive a person up the wall and then leave the
poor shmuck there to dry like old laundry!" 

 "Ray, I don't know if I told you this but you...your family means a lot
to me." Fraser said a little hesitantly. But what he really meant to say
was, 'Ray, you mean a lot to me, you and your friendship' but at the last
second, he had changed it to Ray's family, which was true too but that
wasn't what he had started out to say. 

 Odd. 

 "Yeah, I know." was all Ray said and he slapped Fraser's back lightly.
"They like you too, *especially* Frannie. Oh, she likes you *a* lot." He
added, his lips curving up in a teasing smile. 

 "Does she? I didn't noticed. She doesn't show it much." Fraser's voice
sounded so serious and grave that Ray couldn't help but gape a little
disbelievingly at his friend. Benny couldn't be *that* dense, could he?
Subtlety hadn't exactly been Frannie's strongest point in her obvious
attraction to the Mountie. 

 "Benny, are you kidding me? Cause if you aren't, I should..." Ray began
but what he should was never known as his eyes made contact with Fraser's
and he stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence for he saw, lurking
back at him from those blue depths, was an unmistakable twinkle... 

 The two men started to laugh then and the sound of their shared merriment
filled up the vacuums of silence in the empty house. 


**************************************************************************
*** 

 "Ray. Ray...Ray?" Fraser shook the slumbering form on the shoulder gently
as he bent over his friend, resisting an urge to let his fingers linger
and wander up to the side of the neck that lay exposed. Ray had a very
nice neck, long and slender, was Fraser's absent thought as his fingers
almost but not quite, caressed it. The tips of his fingers were so close
that he could feel Ray's heartbeat that pulsed at the side. 

 "Wha...whatsa matter?" Ray muttered sleepily and Fraser quickly snapped
his hand back as if burnt. 

 "You can't sleep on the couch. You'll catch a cold." Was his voice
shaking? Yes, there was a definite quaver. 

 What was the *matter* with him? 

 "It's my house, I can sleep anywhere I want. Besides, I'm comfortable
here." Ray was saying crabbily, his eyes still half closed. He had taken
his pills a while before and was now feeling the effect, an overwhelming
need to sleep. After speaking, he burrowed back into the couch, shut his
eyes and drifted off again. 

 Fraser shook his head slightly and let Ray be. It was late. The
television had already played the 'Stars and Spangles' and was now
emitting soft crackly static noises. He walked over and switched it off.
As he did, the silence of the night smothered him like a thick blanket and
only Ray's soft, even breathing broke the stillness, the sound of it being
comforting, even soothing, to Fraser's ragged nerves. 

 He sat on the edge of the couch, being very careful not to wake Ray, and
contemplated his friend's sleeping countenance. And like before, almost
unconsciously, his hand lifted up again to gently touch Ray's face,
lightly grazing the right cheek and softly, softly, like the brush of a
butterfly's wings, he let the tips of his fingers trail all over the warm
skin. Then one finger moved to stroke the bridge of that nose, so sharp
that it could almost cut through paper, and proceeded to the other cheek.
Then, upwards to the forehead made smooth now by sleep, traced the outline
of eyelids that were thankfully closed and unaware, or else those green
eyes would have probably popped out of their sockets. 

 Mouth next, and the feel of Ray's lips, parted a little in sleep, under
his fingertips. Ray's lips were dry, yet pliant, suddenly, the word
sensual popped into Fraser's mind. He felt an impulsive desire to slip a
finger between those parted lips but suppressed it, with difficulty, and
instead continued his exploration, only now his hand was caressing Ray's
neck. And finally his wandering fingers settled where he could feel the
pulsing of Ray's heart at the side beating strongly and steadily. He
wanted to bury his face against it, to feel that life-affirming sign
throbbing against his own skin. 

 For a while, he stayed that way, his mind surprisingly calm and collected
although a small part screamed at him to stop before he reached the point
where he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. But it was a very small part
and could be easily ignored, which was what Fraser did. A few minutes
passed before Fraser moved again and with his fingers still 

 touching Ray's neck, he bent over slightly and brushed his own lips
against Ray's. A feather light kiss, but even that barest contact with
Ray's mouth made Fraser shiver and flush with sharp arousal. 

 As he did, he knew with sudden, almost painfully sharp clarity, what
exactly was the matter with him. 

 He had fallen in love. 

 And with that shocking but at the same time, exhilarating, thought, came
back reason and sanity. He straightened up so fast, pulling away from the
kiss, that he almost felt his spine cracked. 

 Through it all, Ray still slept undisturbed by Fraser's caresses or kiss.
Under the effects of the medication, it was doubtful whether a hurricane
would have woken him up. And even if it did, he would have probably just
muttered something about the breeze, turned over to his side and slept
some more. 

 Oh no, this is not happening, I'm in love with...*Ray*?
But...but...*why*? Fraser asked himself silently, dazed by the revelation.


 Because he's your best friend, a voice in his brain spoke up unexpectedly
and it's tone was gently reasonable as if falling in love with one's
friend was perfectly acceptable. 

 No, it is not acceptable! Fraser argued back vehemently in the recesses
of his mind. 

 Why not? 

 What do you mean why not? Have you taken leave of your senses? It just
isn't! Understandably, Fraser was somewhat agitated. 

 Stop shouting, I can hear you perfectly well. I am in your head, after
all. Incredibly, his subconscious self became offended and reprimanded
him. At least Fraser hoped it was his subconscious mind that was talking
to him now because if it wasn't, he was either in dire need of some
psychiatric help or an exorcism. 

 There is no need to be rude, you know, the voice was saying to him
huffily. 

 Sorry, Fraser apologised and then couldn't believe that he was
apologising to himself. 

 Apology accepted. Like I said, I'm in your head and so I know what you
are thinking, what you are feeling and I say that you are in love with Ray
Vecchio. 

 That's insane! 

 What's so insane about caring for another person? The voice asked Fraser
quietly. 

 Fraser didn't reply. 

 Stop deluding yourself, you know you do love Ray and every single cell,
fibre and molecule of your body yearns to be near him, the voice told him,
implacable in it's confidence of what it was telling Fraser and after it
did, it fell silent and disappeared completely from his mind. 

 Fraser continued to sit, stunned, at the edge of the couch, his thoughts
were in a raging, boiling turmoil and he simply didn't know what to do. He
glanced down at Ray, sleeping unaware, and gazing down, long and hard at
that sharp-featured face that had teased him, comforted him, whined at him
and shouted, yelled at him in anger, in exasperation, in annoyance, in
joy, he at last knew what he already had known. 

 No, there was nothing insane about loving another person. Nothing at all.


 Ray Vecchio? Who would have thought...and Fraser started to smile
ruefully and in that smile was also gradual dawning happiness, pure and
simple. He didn't know how Ray felt about him, of course, but it just felt
so good, so relieving to know his own feelings at last. Now that he knew
how he felt, he was determined to tell Ray about it, only he was unsure as
to how to go about it. Oh, he could just imagine blurting it out to Ray.
"Ray," he would start by saying, "A disembodied voice in my head told me
yesterday night that I love you and it was right." Yeah, he could do that
and probably never see Ray again. 

 As he sat there, thinking, hoping, he covered one of Ray's hand with his
own and grasped it tightly. 

 I do love you, Ray. Very much so. Please love me too. 

 As he tried to think of a way to confess his love for the one person in
his life that mattered without him taking off like a scared rabbit, Fraser
noticed suddenly that Ray's hand was icy-cold in his grip. 

 Oh dear, I told him he would catch a chill if he slept here. Fraser
started to worry and he considered bringing down a blanket from Ray's room
to cover him when an idea struck him, like lightning on a clear summer sky
and his lips curved upwards in a mischievous grin. 

 This just might work, he marvelled at his own unexpected audacity and
laughed quietly. 


**************************************************************************
*** 

 It was the warmth and the feeling that he was not alone that woke Ray up
and even so, he was still groggy and half asleep when he did open his eyes
into bare slits that widened when he saw who it was that was lying beside
him. 

 It was Benny. 

 He was sandwiched against the back of the couch, both of them fully
clothed, his head nestled within the crook of Benny's shoulders and Benny
had both of his arms around Ray's body and the Mountie was sleeping
soundly, his face, relaxed and...*smiling* slightly? 

 Ray wondered frantically, insanely, for a minute there why on earth Benny


 was sleeping next to him. And then proceeded to wonder some more when he
realised that far from being repulsed or repelled by having another man's
arms wrapped around him, it actually felt...comfortable. 

 And right somehow. 

 Something's wrong, I should be yelling bloody blue murder right now. I
mean, a *man* is lying next to me! Ray thought absent-mindedly. But I'm
not...why? 

 All of a sudden, a voice spoke up inside Ray's head and although Ray
couldn't know it, the particular inflections of this voice bore an
extremely strong resemblance to the one that sounded in Benny's head
earlier on. 

 Because he isn't *just* a man, he's *Benny*, it told him practically. 

 And that makes it all right? Just because he's Benny? Ray wanted to know.


 Yep, the voice in his brain told him cheerfully and continued speaking.
Not to mention the fact that you're crazy about him and have been for some
time now, it said smugly. 

 *I am*?? Ray was dazed. 

 Uh-huh, you just don't know it yet. I mean, you didn't know about it then
but now you do. 

 Oh, was all Ray could think of to say. 

 He loves you too, you know. 

 Oh...Oh! And there rose in Ray, such an inexplicable feeling of joy and
satisfaction that he was surprised that he didn't light up like a sunbeam,
like his name, right there and then on the spot. 

 Yeah, it's nice to know that it's mutual, isn't it? The voice told him
kindly and there was a note of amusement in it's tones before it faded
away like the Cheshire Cat, leaving lingering echoes. Ray could have
sworn, although he couldn't see it, that the voice was grinning in immense
self satisfaction as it left his mind. 

 Either I'm having a very vivid hallucination or else I'm still sleeping,
dreaming that I'm awake and having a very vivid hallucination, and
thinking I'm awake when I'm really sleeping, Ray thought a bit
incoherently but the warmth of another body pressed against his own wasn't
a product of fevered dreams but vividly real. He tried to pull back a
little from Benny's embrace, he couldn't think clearly with Benny's body
wrapped around him like that, it was too distracting. He tried to squirm
away and found that he couldn't. Benny had a death-grip on Ray like an
anaconda, both arms hugging the smaller man to himself, firmly and
closely. 

 Ray contemplated waking Fraser up but something made him decide not to.
Instead he managed to get one hand free and started to lightly trace the
contours of the handsome face so near to him, not quite believing that
this was happening. 

 I must be crazy and I don't care. I do love Benny and I don't need any
voice in my head to tell me so. 

 Ray snuggled back against Benny's chest so that he could hear the steady
beating of the other man's heart against his ear. It felt wonderful, lying
within the circle of his friend's arms like this. It felt comfortable. It
felt warm. 

 It felt safe. 

 Ray shut his eyes, contented, and both men slept dreamlessly and
soundlessly in each other's arms until the next morning. 

 'Hard is the heart that loveth nought in May' Geoffrey Chaucer 

 

 THE END 

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