A Kick In The Head
------------------

Ray Kowalski rubbed his eyes and rested his head in his hands.
His 'unofficial' partner, Benton Fraser, looked at him with concern.
"Is something wrong, Ray?" he asked.

"Just a headache, Fraser. No big deal."

"Ray, you are obviously in distress. I think that *is* a big deal." 

"No, it's not. It's a headache. That's all." The look on his face told
Fraser not to pursue the subject. 

"Can I get you something? Aspirin? Tea?" the Mountie offered.

"Aspirin would be good. Thanks."

Fraser got up and went in to the break room where he retrieved a bottle
of aspirin from a cupboard. As he returned to the squad room he studied
the other man carefully. Ray was obviously in pain. 

"Ray, perhaps you should see a doctor," Benton suggested.

"No. No doctors, no hospitals, none o'that. I've been poked and
prodded enough for one lifetime."

"You have?" asked Fraser in surprise.

"Why d'you think I hate hospitals so much? I've spent enough time there
for them to practically reserve a room for me."

"What for?"

Ray sighed. "Years ago, when I was still a rookie, I tangled with some
really bad guys, an' I came out on the losing end."

Fraser placed a hand on Ray's shoulder. "What happened?" he asked gently.

There was a faraway look on the detective's face as he told the story.
"I was doin' my regular beat, an' I was passin' this warehouse. I saw
some lights movin' around and I thought I'd better see what was up. Next
thing I know I'm in the middle of a gang that's got some heavy shit goin'
down, some smuggling thing, an' they don't take kindly to bein'
interrupted."

"They hurt you," said Fraser angrily.

"They more than hurt me. They beat me to within an inch of my life. One
of them was wearing heavy steel-toed boots, an' he kicked me in the head."
Ray winced at the memory.

"How did you escape?" asked his partner.

"I'd called for backup before I went in. Guess I shoulda waited for them,
but I didn't. So I got what I deserved."

"No, Ray. You didn't deserve that. No one does."

Ray shrugged. "I didn't wait for my backup. It's drilled in to every
rookie. Don't go in to a situation alone. But I did. I did it on the
Botrelle murder and I did it this time. You'd think I woulda learned
my lesson."

Fraser moved so that he was sitting closer to Ray. "Ray, listen to me.
You made an error in judgement. Everyone does. Even veteran police
officers
make mistakes. I've made plenty of my own.  That does not mean you
deserved
to be beaten and almost killed."

"All right, all right, I hear ya," said Ray.

"Ray," continued the Mountie. "You said once that you were 'damaged'
- did you mean brain-damaged? From being kicked in the head?"

"Yeah," said Ray, so quietly his partner could barely hear him.

"Tell me," said Ben.

"Not here," the blonde man responded.

"All right, let me take you home," suggested Fraser.

Ray smiled for the first time since his headache had started. "No way
am I letting you drive, Fraser," he said.

"Ray, I don't think that you are in any shape to drive right now." 

"I can drive. Probably better than you can, even with a headache. I'll
even go slow if that'll make you feel better."

"Ray, you are incredibly stubborn."

"Yeah, but you love me anyway."

"Yes, I do," responded Fraser.

Ray stopped, looked around the empty squadroom, then kissed 
his partner. "I love you, Fraser. You know that, don't you?"

Fraser smiled. "I know." He put an arm around Ray's shoulders and they
walked out to the car.

When they arrived at Ray's apartment, Ben immediately headed for the
kitchen. Since he and Ray had been together he'd begun to stock
the cupboards with some of his favourite teas so that he would have
something
to drink other than Ray's deplorable instant coffee.

When the tea was ready he took a mug to Ray, who was 
stretched out on the couch. "Drink this," he ordered.

Ray opened one eye. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's an herbal tea to help your headache."

"Does it taste disgusting?" inquired the detective.

"No worse than instant coffee with Smarties mixed in it," replied Fraser.

"Hey, don't knock the Smarties, Frase. They're Canadian, after all."

"I've been meaning to ask you where you get Smarties in Chicago." 

Ray sat up on the couch and grinned. "Old friend from high school moved
to Toronto after graduation. He sends me boxes of Smarties every couple
of months."

"You should have visited him when we were in Toronto," said Fraser. 

"Nah." Ray shook his head. "He wouldn't want to see me. I've changed
since high school."

"The kick in the head?" Ben asked, returning to the subject of their
earlier conversation. "You said you were damaged."

"Yeah, well, I did spend a lot of time in the hospital, what with the
brain injury and the damage to the rest of me. Had a good neurosurgeon,
patched me up best as he could, but he couldn't fix all the damage."

Fraser sat on the couch next to his lover and gently ran his fingers
through Ray's spiky hair. "What kind of damage do you have?" he asked.

Ray sighed. "Well, the headaches, for one. And the mood swings - hell,
you've seen my temper. You've seen me punch holes in walls. And 
sometimes I have trouble finding the right word, even when I know what
I want to say, I still can't make it come out of my mouth. An' sometimes,
I have to ask you what a word means, when I should know it. I'm not
stupid,
I have a college education, I just...forgot some things. Little 
bits and pieces. "

"Ray, I never said that I thought you were stupid."

"Nah, of course not. You wouldn't say something like that. But I can
tell you think it sometimes, when I don't understand what yer saying."

Ben put his hand under Ray's chin and raised his partner's face so that
he could look into his eyes. "Ray, I have never thought of you as stupid.
Perhaps you think of yourself as stupid, and project that feeling on
to me, but I have never thought of you that way."

Ray groaned and leaned in to Fraser, who hugged him close. "I'm sorry,
love. Yer right, I do think that I'm stupid. I mean, well, I was
never what my folks wanted, an' I couldn't measure up to my brother,
so I just always had this feeling like they were disappointed. And when
I didn't do what they wanted, they said I was stupid."

"They should have never said that to you, Ray," said Fraser.

"After the...the beating, well, they thought that maybe I'd quit being
a cop, ya know, like I'd get over this stupid idea. It took a long time
to recover, and it was really hard sometimes. It was really
frustrating - still is, sometimes."

"Ray, why didn't you tell me about any of this before?"

Ray lay his head on his love's shoulder. "I wanted to be pefect, like
you're perfect."

"I'm not perfect, Ray."

"You're smart, you're good-looking, you're polite, you have women  -
and a few men - falling all over you. I never thought you'd want  someone
like me...especially if you knew I was ... damaged."

 Ben kissed the top of Ray's head. "Ray, as far as I can see, you  *are*
perfect." He kissed Ray's forehead. "You're intelligent."  He kissed
Ray's nose. "You're a good detective." He kissed Ray's cheek.  "You're
very attractive." He gave Ray a deep, lingering kiss on the  mouth. "And
I love you."

 Ray took Ben's hands in his. "Ben," he said, using his lover's first
name the way he only did when they were alone, "will you stay with me
tonight?"

 "You're sure, Ray?"

 "Yes. I want you, Ben."

 "What about your headache?"

 Ray smiled lasciviously. "I've heard that sex is good for headaches."

 "Well, it does create endorphins, which are the body's natural
 pain relievers..."

 Ray shut him up with a kiss.

 END