Disclaimer: Stella, Ray, Fraser, Welsh, Huey, Dewey and Diefenbaker belong
to Alliance. The rest and the story are mine. The title of the story comes
from the song 'Cubically Contained' by the Headstones. Used here without
permission. Not making any money, blah, blah, blah.. 

 PG-13 for GEN, DRAMA, VIOLENCE, DEATH STORY(NOT A MAJOR CHARACTER),
LANGUAGE. 

 Comments welcome: Leadpoisoning@hotmail.com 

 Never Promise Anything Again 

 By Rae 

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

 "Aw, hell.", Detective Ray Kowalski mumbled, tossing another bag of
frozen peas out of the way. "Snow peas. No snow peas." He looked up,
snapping his fingers to get the attention of the young cashier who was
helping himself to a cup of coffee from the customers' pot. 

 "Hey, kid. Ya guys carry snow peas?" The boy rolled his eyes and
shrugged. 

 "I dunno. We got peas.", he replied indifferently and went on pouring.
Ray sighed and leaned against the freezer. 

 "Yeah. I can see that. What I am asking is if ya got *snow* peas."
Scrowling, the boy put the coffee pot down with a loud clank. 

 "Look, man, whatever's there, is what we got. This is a convience store,
not a Publix." Ray took a step forward, eyes narrow, a dark scrowl pulling
at his lips. 

 "Hey, look here ya little pimple-faced stooge--" 

 "Ray." A soft female voice interceded. Ray turned to see his Stella
standing behind him with a bottle of Coke in hand. "We don't need the snow
peas. Let it go." Ray tossed a quick icy, parting glance at the cashier
and turned his attention to his ex-wife. 

 "Fine, " he muttered, "But ya know that kid derserves to get kicked in
the head." 

 "Maybe. But not by you." She smiled wearily. "C'mon. Let's get the rest
of the food and go home." 

 "Sure.", he mumbled as he followed her back into the dessert aisle. "I
can't believe there isn't a open grocery store within 20 miles." 

 "It's late. Besides, today's Memorial Day." Stella turned, walking slowly
backwards so that she could look at him as she spoke. "Besides, there was
a time when being with me would have been enough." 

 "It is, Stel. I just...." He sighed. "I wanted this to be right." She
stopped walking, her shoulders hunching. 

 "Ray, it's only dinner." Ray's lips twitched slightly into a forced smile
that quickly faded. 

 "I-I know. I thought m-maybe--" Stella put her finger over his lips. 

 "Shh. I don't want you getting your hopes up.", she said honestly, but
gently. "Let's just enjoy this for what it is, o.k.?" Her ex-husband
smiled, but she could see the boyish hope mingled with a familiar
isolation. She sighed, dropping her eyes. How she hated being the cause of
that isolation. So many times she had wanted to apologize, but somehow it
had always turned around and she ended up yelling at him. Ray was
child-like in so many ways. 

 He was innocent, frail, a boy hiding behind the tough exterior of a man.
On the job, he was ruthless, strong and inpenetrable. That was the job;
that was what was required. But when he got home...when he got home he
became something entirely different. She remembered the nights he would
stagger into the house, close the door and slide down to the floor in a
wretched, whimpering heap. No tears, only soft whimpers. She would go to
him then, take him in her arms and rock him gently. He would cling to her
hard enough to leave bruises and bury his face against her shoulder.
Afterward, when exhaustion finally overcame him, she would lead him to the
bedroom, strip him of his clothes and tuck him into bed. He would sleep
for an hour, maybe two and she would not sleep at all. Rather, she would
lie awake, listening, wandering. When he awoke after that fitful sleep
they would make love. Not the way Ray was inclined. It was different after
a bad day on the job. It was rough, desperate. They both needed it. He
needed it to confirm life and she needed it to confirm that he was still
alive. It was wonderful and passionate and yet when it was over she would
go into the bathroom and cry. For all that was good about it, she knew it
did not heal him, did not take away his pain and that knowledge hurt her.
He never knew. By the time she got out of the bathroom he would be asleep
again. As soon as she slid into bed beside him, his body would curl around
hers protectively and stay that way until morning. Through all this, he
would not tell her what had happened that had upset him to such an extent.
He simply refused to talk about it. After awhile, she learned not to ask.
She would hear it later, from her own sources within the department,
officers she had contact with through the court. The last case she
remembered was the beating death of a child. The parents had beat the
small boy to death and placed his broken body in a dumpster. Ray had
gotten a confession out of both parents. It was a good collar. But not for
Ray, who could never shake the image of a dead child. He saw so many. Too
many. Too many dead children. Stella knew well that was why Ray had wanted
children so desperately wanted children before she was ready. To confirm
life and to replace the images he carried with him. Perhaps that was why
she had denied him this wish. He had wanted children for the wrong
reasons. The dead could not be replaced. But how could she have told him
that? That would have hurt him more than anything. Ray had always used her
refusal to have children as the grounds for their divorce, but it was so
much more than that. On some level she was tired of being a cop's wife.
She loved Ray. Loved him more than life. But it was getting too hard. It
wasn't even the breakdowns or the terrible frustrations of seeing her
husband in pain and being able to do nothing about it. It was the fear
that ultimately drove a wedge between them. Her fear. Twice he had been
shot in the line of duty. Twice she remembered her heart nearly stopping
when she got the phone calls. Only pieces of those conversations ever
registered. When she heard the lieutenant's voice images of her husband
came to her. Ray in the hospital, Ray bleeding on the sidewalk, Ray dead.
It was impossible. Finally she found she couldn't take it anymore and
finally she had to let go. Her reasons had been selfish. She knew that.
But she couldn't live with the fear and the guilt and the tension any
longer. The truth would have hurt Ray more than anything and so she let
him believe that their marriage had ended because of her focus on her
career. She so desperately wanted Ray to know that she loved him. She
wanted him to know that he wasn't at fault. Stella knew the power she had
over him. His shyness, the weak, defensive posture his body took on, even
the way he looked at the floor and ran his fingers nervously though his
hair. Secretly, she enjoyed that. But at same time, she resented him for
it. She had never liked hiding behind the snide remarks, but she just
couldn't help herself sometimes. She loved Ray, but sometimes he was just
so damn frustrating. She had even thought to blow him off today when he
had caught her as she left the precinct and asked if she would like to get
dinner. Another vicious answer had started to rise in her throat, but
there was something in his eyes. Something of the boy she had met so many
years ago. She had agreed to dinner and almost laughed outloud at the way
his eyes lit up, a reaction not far removed from that night she had said
'yes' to his marriage proposal. Just dinner. Unfortunately, no restaurant
was open; they had driven around the city for a good two hours. It had not
been terrible. They had talked about work and bits and pieces of their
personal lives as well. Finally, Ray had offered to drop her off at home.
She still didn't know why, but she *did* want this dinner. She suggested
they make dinner together and eat at her place.... 

 "Stel? Earth to Stella." She was brought back into the present by the
realization that Ray was talking to her. She looked at him. 

 "I'm sorry, Ray, I was, um, just thinking." He smiled. 

 "No kidding. Ya were a million miles away there." Ray ran his fingers
through his tawny spikes. Stella reached up and started to pull his hand
away. 

 "Ray, your gel is flaking--" As if suddenly realizing what she was doing,
she quickly put her hand brought her hand back to her side. 

 "S-sorry. I-I.." Her voice trailed off and she looked at her feet. Ray
smiled sadly. 

 "S'okay.",he said quietly. When they were married she had constantly
corrected this habit. Stella glanced at him quickly, blushing. Ray cleared
his throat. 

 "Um, so, what's for dessert?" She sighed, gesturing wildly to the limited
selection in front of them. 

 "What do you think? Chocolate cream or cherry?", she asked. Ray grinned. 

 "Cherry?" She rolled her eyes and nudged him. 

 "You're sick.", she mumbled. 

 "That's why ya love me.", her ex-husband replied, his grin growing even
broader. Stella tugged lightly at his coat. 

 "Mmmm, that's debateable." Ray reached out and let his hand brush her
face. 

 "Yer beautiful.", murmured. Stella caught his hand, bringing it down. 

 "Please don't.", she whispered. "I-I can't." He nodded and started to
pull his hand from her grasp, but Stella held it. He twisted his hand
gently, but felt her grip tighten. Ray's eyes lifted to meet hers. 

 "Stel...?", he said quietly. She smiled. 

 "Get the chocolate cream and let's go home. I'm hungry.", she said,
linking her fingers into his. Ray smiled. 

 "O.k." If he hadn't lost himself to those beautiful blue eyes, the light
scent of Pleasures, the warmth of her skin, he might have noticed the man
in the light green overcoat and the dark glasses who had just entered the
store. He would have noticed the man wander back to the far end of the
store and pretend to read a magazine. He wouls have noticed the second man
who entered, this one with his hand tucked under his faded, cracked bomber
jacket. 

 "Alright, everybody down!" Ray's head snapped around as the man near the
counter drew a Colt Anaconda revolver out of is coat. 

 "Down!" His eyes darted to the man at the other end of the store who had
drawn two .38 revolvers from his coat and pushing another customer to the
floor. Instinctively, Ray's hand went to his own weapon. Stella grabbed
his hand. 

 "No, Ray.", she hissed, "There's nothing you can do. Please don't." He
looked at her. For the first time he saw panic and the light glaze of
tears in her beautiful eyes. "Ok.", he whispered. 

 "Hey! Did you not here me?! Get on the floor! Now!" The gunman in the
green coat was moving toward them now. Ray pushed Stella behind him. and
raised his hands. 

 "We heard you. Just--" 

 "Get down!",he snapped. Ray went down on his knees slowly, urging Stella
to do the same. 

 "Hands where I can see them!", he snapped. Ray kept his hands on his
knees and his ex-wife followed his lead. Though Ray could not see the
other man, he could hear him demanding the whimpering cashier to open the
register. The man in the coat moved back toward the customer he had left
by the magazines. Ray was horrifed to see it was a boy, perhaps no older
15 or 16. He was dressed in full punk get-up, including a brightly colored
mohawk. The gunman pulled the boy to his feet and shoved him to where Ray
and Stella were sitting. 

 "Down!", the man demanded. The boy glared at the gunman, but did nothing.
There was a dangerous defience in the child's eyes; he was openly
challenging the gunman. 

 "I said, down!", the man snapped. The boy tilted his head ever so
slightly. 

 "Are you deaf, you 'lil freak?!", he snapped, waving the .38 recklessly.
Ray took hold of the bottom corner of the boy's trench coat and gave it
hard yank. The boy came down with a yelp and the detective put his hands
on the child's shoulders, holding him down. 

 "Stay put, kid.", he whispered. 

 "Get yer hands off me, man.", the boy twisted out off Ray's grip. 

 "Listen to him, boy.", the gunman said. Breathing hard, the boy scooted
back against the shelves and glared up at the big man with a angry scrowl.
The gunman seemed on the verge of saying something, but then stepped over
the three and walked toward the counter. Ray linked his hand into
Stella's. 

 "Are you alright?", he asked gently. She nodded, trying to maintain a
strong front for him. He touched her cheek and she began to shiver. Ray
made a soft noise and put his arm around her, drawing her close. 

 "I'm scared, Ray.", she murmured. He kissed her forehead, smoothing her
blonde hair. 

 "It's alright, my love. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. I
don't think these men are killers. They'll take the money and they will
leave." She muffled a whimper against his shoulder. 

 "Then you don't have to do anything. Please don't play the hero here,
Ray.", she said, "If anything happens to you....Oh, God. It never ends."
The detective's eyes narrowed in confusion. 

 "What never ends? What are you talking about?" Tears spilled over
Stella's cheek as she struggled to control the quiver in her voice. Ray
could hear the cashier emptying the register. "Being afraid for you.", she
blurted, "I-I couldn't take it anymore. I never stopped loving you, Ray. I
just couldn't stand being afaid any more." Suddenly all of Ray's focus was
on his ex-wife. 

 "Y-Ya....Wait a second...Are you saying that you divorced me
because....Ya divorced me cause ya didn't want to be a cop's wife
anymore." Gasping, Stella put her hand over his mouth. 

 "Don't talk so loudly.", she hissed through her tears. Ray pulled her
hand away. 

 "Ya tell me. Is that what ya were saying?" Stella wiped her eyes with the
back of hands. 

 "I c-couldn't do it anymore." Ray shook his head and sat back, burying
his face in his hands. Stella touched his arm. 

 "Ray, I didn't say that to hurt you. I-I...." He sighed deeply, bringing
his hands to his lap. 

 "I would have given up everything for you. I would have.......If you had
asked me....If I had known..." He was interrupted when the gunman in the
green coat came back. 

 "Alright. We don't want to hurt anyone here.", he said. "We got what we
need. All of you, stay down. Count to 100, alright?" The young punk made a
loud spatting noise. Ray nodded. 

 "We understand.", he said, making direct eye contact with the defiant
punk. 

 "Hey, man, let's move out!" The man in the bomber jacket approached. Ray
heard Stella's breath catch in her throat and he turned his head. The
gunman in the jacket was looking down at her with a cruel smile on his
face. 

 "State's Attorney Kowalski.", he said. The other man looked up. 

 "What are ya talking about?" The gunman with the Colt Anaconda glared at
the blonde woman at his feet. 

 "This is this the bitch that ruined my life." The gunman in the green
coat stepped back, patting the other man on the shoulder. 

 "Let's go.", he replied. 

 "No. I ain't going. This whore drove my family away." Stella bristled and
Ray felt her tense. 

 "You did that yourself, Krolen.", she snapped. 

 "Forget about her, man. Let's go." The other man scrowled. 

 "I ain't leaving.", he replied. Ray linked his hand into Stella's again,
squeezing it reassuringly. 

 "I won't let anything happen to you.", he whispered quickly. "I promise
you that." There was a sound then, far away, very faint at first. Sirens.
Ray breathed a sigh of relief. Back-up. The gunman in the green began to
panic. 

 "Cops, man! We gotta go!" Krolen just scrowled, turning his gun on
Stella. Ray's heart jumped. 

 "You do whatever the hell you want, Steve. I'm leaving. " He sprinted
toward the counter and grabbed the bag of money. The man in the green was
just near the door when Krolen suddenly whirled and fired off a single
shot, nailing man in the back. The cashier screamed, as did Stella. The
young punk retreated into his oversized coat and began to shiver. Ray used
the distraction to pull Stella to him. Krolen turned then and grabbed a
put full of the attorney's hair, pulling her up. Ray lept to her feet in
ex-wife's defense. Krolen slammed the butt of his Anaconda into the side
of the detective's head, sending him to the floor. 

 * 

 "Lieutenant?" Harding Welsh glanced up from the cold cup of java on his
desk. Detective Jack Huey leaned in the doorway. 

 "We've got problems. Two guys tried to hold-up a convience store on
Delancy. They are four hostages. Two of those are Ray Vecchio and Stella
Kowalski." Welsh rose from his chair, pulling his coat on. "The gunman in
Steve Krolen. Stella prosecuted him for spousal abuse a few years back.
He's threatening to kill both of them." Welsh growled. 

 "Call Fraser and inform him of the situation. Pick him up from the
Consulate and meet me at the scene.", he said, as he made his way through
the precinct. Jack nodded. 

 "Yes, sir." 

 * 

 

 &&&&&&&& 

 "Hey." 

 "Hey." He kissed her gently."How was yer day?" Stella smiled. 

 "Oh, you know, busy. So many exams. Sometimes I think it's all
pointless." Ray grinned, popping open the bottle of champagne. 

 "Well, ya can forget all of that now, cause Chef Ray has whipped up some
dinner." She raised an eyebrow. 

 "Really? The same Chef Ray who burned the pizza last week?" 

 "It was flambe.", he replied, putting his arms around her waist. Stella
draped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through through his
soft blond hair. 

 "It was charcoal." She let her hand trail over the length of his body,
grinning when she felt the muscles spasm beneath her touch. She kissed
him. "You just turn to putty in my hands, don't you?" Ray blushed, kissing
her back. 

 "I'm all yours.", he replied. Stella tugged his the uniform shirt out of
his pants and slid her hand underneath to touch the warm flesh. Ray
shuddered. 

 "So, what's for dinner, Chef Ray?" He moaned as his wife's hand caressed
his belly in circles. 

 "M-me.", he mumbled, eyes half closed with pleasures. Stella laughed, but
she pressed her advantage and moved him toward the couch. 

 "Good.", she whispered, unbuttoning the cumbersome shirt. A light push
and they both tumbled down onto it, with her on top. Ray smiled, fiddling
with her silk blouse. She moaned and kissed him hungryily. Ray's hands
moved to her face. 

 "Tell me you love me.", he whispered. She ran her fingers over his chest.


 "You know I do.", she said. He kissed her neck. 

 "I know. But I need to hear it." Her hands moved to his belt. 

 "I love you, Ray.", she said, kissing him, "Always." 

 &&&&&&& 

 "Stella...." Ray Kowalski opened his eyes. His head ached. He tried to
sit up, but found his hands bound behind him with rough cloth. 

 "Geez, man, I thought you were dead or something." He turned his head and
saw the young punk sitting bedside him, his hands tied to bar at the
bottom of the counter. The boy must have put up a struggle. His wrists
were raw and a bruise was fanning out on his pale cheek. Tears glistened
his beneath his eyes. 

 "He shot the cashier guy.", the boy mumbled. "No reason. Just whacked
him." The detective turned his head. He could see the flashes of red and
blue lights outside. Stand-off. 

 "Stel....?", Ray moaned softly. There was a loud clatter then and he
heard his ex-wife scream in pain. Ray thrashed violently against his
bonds. 

 "Stella!" He heard Krolen laugh. 

 "Detective!" There was sound of heavy footfalls and the gunman appeared.
He stood over Ray for a moment and then kicked the blond hard in the side.
Ray's cried out, his body curled and he coughed violently. The punk made
another loud spatting noise. Krolen squatted down beside the child,
bringing the barrel of the Anaconda to the boy's head. 

 "You say something?" When the punk didn't look at him, the gunman took
hold of the teen's chin and forced him to turn his head. 

 "Did you say something, *boy*?", he asked again. A scrowl pulled at the
corner of the boy's lip. "Yeah. I was just gonna say it takes some big
fucking balls to beat up a guy while he's tied down." Krolen put his large
hand on the boy's head and slammed it back into the wall. 

 "Get away from him.", Ray growled, pain pulsing through his aching body.
Krolen stood and went back to the detective. 

 "He has no use to me.", he said. Ray struggled again. 

 "Ya can't get out of this." Krolen ran his fingers gently through the
detective's blond spikes. 

 "I have two of their own." 

 "Ya hurt us and they won't hesitate to take yer head off." 

 "Detective Vecchio, there are two of you. One of you is expendable." Ray
continued to fidget in his bonds. He didn't dare ask about Stella. As long
as Krolen was here, he wouldn't be hurting her. 

 "And, uh, which one us would that be?", he asked. Ray stopped struggling
as he felt the familar pressure of a gun barrel against the back of his. 

 "That would be you. See I doubt you got any value over the bitch in the
backroom." The detective gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to fling
whatever part of his body that he could at the man. 

 "So," Krolen said, running the barrel through Ray's hair. "What is she to
you?" The detective flinched as the cold metal touched flesh. 

 "Who?", he asked innocently. Weight came down on the barrel then and he
emitted a protest as it pressed into the base of his skull. 

 "Don't. Play. Games. You know damn well who.",the man growled. Ray
gritted his teeth. 

 "She's my wife. M-my ex-wife." Stella. His Stella. Krolen scoffed loudly.


 "She's good at breaking up marriages?" Ray turned his head so he could
look at the gunman. 

 "Ya beat up yer wife, didn't you?", he guessed,"Ya smacked her around a
bit?" Krolen sat down, moving back against the counter. 

 "Woman needed to be kept in line. She didn't listen. Woman's job to have
a hot meal ready for her husband when he comes home." Now it was Ray's
turn to scoff. 

 "What century do ya live in, pal? Staying at home and making babies isn't
a woman's job anymore." Even as he spoke those words, he realized, with no
small degree of guilt, that is some twisted unconcious way he had expected
the same thing from Stella when they were married. 

 "Men like you is what's wrong with the world. A woman doesn't deserve
rights. She needs to be taught to obey. You should have taught your bitch
to obey." He stood up slowly. "Well, I taught her to obey." Those words
struck a chord of anguish and rage in Ray. He thrashed about violently. 

 "You son-of-a-bitch! If you touched her, I'll kill you myself!", he
roared. Krolen watched this frenzy for a moment and then he stepped foward
and kicked Ray again. 

 "Shut up, Vecchio." Krolen moved back to the counter to pick up the
cellphone. Again curled up in a fetal position and coughing, Ray felt
tears sting his eyes. He had promised her. He had promised..... 

 * 

 "Lieutenant. Krolen's on the line again." Welsh stopped drumming his
fingers and took the cellphone from SWAT team leader. 

 "Mr. Krolen, have you thought about your terms yet?" 

 "Yeah. I want a car. Get me a car." Welsh looked at the man who stood in
front of him. 

 "Can we get a car out here?" The team leader shook his head. 

 "Lieutenant, may I remind you, that you are no longer in charge of this
situation. You are only here because he demands to continue talking to
you." Welsh put his hand over the phone. 

 "I'm gonna ask you one more time. Can we get a car out here. The man
sighed. 

 "I have to authorize it.", he replied. 

 "Then do it.", Welsh ordered. The team leader's lips were tightly pursed.


 Yes, sir.", he said finally. Harding put the phone back to his ear. 

 "Done.", he said, his eyes still fixed on the younger man. 

 "I'm taking one hostage with me." The lieutenant's brow furrowed. 

 "No, no. That's not the deal. We let you walk away, you let *everyone*
go." 

 "You're not in any position to tell me what to do.", he snapped."I'm
taking State's Attorney Kowalski with me." The lieuteanant's jaw
tightened. They had to end the stalemate somehow. The car would give them
enough time to figure out what to do when Krolen and Stella Kowalski came
out. 

 "Fine.", he replied. 

 "Good.", Krolen said, "Bring that car around. And if you pigs try
anything stupid I'll blow Detective Vecchio's head off." Welsh hung up and
slammed his fist against the hood of the police car. 

 "Damn!", he shouted. From where he stood Constable Benton Fraser said
quickly, 

 "Sir?" Welsh sighed deeply. 

 "He wants to take Stella with him. If we..delay. If we..screw up in
anyway, he's going to kill Ray." Ben sucked in a breath. Ray. Partner.
Friend. 

 "Are we giving him the car then, sir?" The lieutenant nodded. 

 "We'll get a car. What we can do is empty the tank so they can't get any
further than a few miles and we'll put a transmitter under the car so that
we can track them from a safe distance. But those are just precautionary.
SWAT is standing by. They can have sharpshooters up on these rooftops in
less than 10 minutes." Fraser frowned. 

 "Wouldn't this put Stella's life in danger?" Welsh leaned heavily against
the police car. 

 "He won't hesistate to kill her if we give him a chance, Constable. He
wants a hostage, but I have a feeling this is about revenge. Ray isn't
much more than leverage. This is risk, but I don't see any other way to
play it." 

 " I can get inside.", Ben said. Harding shook his head. 

 "Then he'll have three bargining chips instead of two." 

 "Lieutenant, Ray is my friend and partner. I cannot simply stand by.",
Fraser persisted. Welsh looked at him. 

 "Constable, this man has very short fuse. He shot his partner. He shot
the convience store clerk. If he panics, he'll kill the other three. Right
now all we have is Krolen's word that Ray or Stella are still alive." 

 "Do you think he is lying?" 

 "I don't know." Fraser sighed, glancing quickly at the convience store. 

 "I know you're worried about them.", Welsh said, "I am too." 

 "Has anyone contacted the boy's family?", Ben asked. Harding shook his
head. 

 "He wouldn't give Krolen his name.", the lieutenant responded. Ben looked
at his feet. 

 "Just a boy." Welsh managed a thin smile. 

 "Ray will look after him." 

 * 

 

 &&&&&&&& 

 "It just isn't the right time, Ray, alright?", Stella said as she pushed
a stack of books out of the way and pulled another file from the pile on
her desk. 

 "When is the right time then?" She sighed and looked at him. 

 "Why are you pushing this?" Ray crossed his arms over his chest. 

 "Cause I have been asking ya and asking ya. All ya keep saying is, 'it
isn't the right time.' When we got married, ya said ya wanted children."
Stella glared at him. 

 "I also said I wanted a career." She ran her fingers through her hair and
looked back at the open file on her desk. "Just because *you* are ready,
doesn't mean I am." 

 "So, when are you going to be?", he persisted. Stella slapped the file
shut. 

 "Oh...Would you stop?! I'll be ready, when I'm ready. Why can't you just
drop it?", she snapped. Ray seemed on the verge of saying something, but
then turned and walked out of the office. 

 Later that night as Stella slipped into the bed, she said, "Ray, I don't
think this marriage is working anymore." He said nothing, but threw off
the covers and taking a pillow, stalked out of the bedroom. 

 Unable to sleep, Stella had ventured into the living room. Ray could not
see her in the darkness and she could barely make out his lean form
huddled on the couch, but the silence of the night was broken by his
bitter, controlled sobs. She wanted to take him in her arms, soothe him
with gentle words and touches, but she forced herself to turn away and
return to the bedroom. In the darkness, she buried her face in the pillow
and cried softly. 

 &&&&&&&&& 

 Stella lay bound on the concrete floor of the backroom. It was so cold.
She could taste blood in her mouth. Every part of her body ached. Ray had
gotten up when Krolen had grabbed her. He had tried to protect her and
Krolen had struck him with the gun. She had started sobbing at the sight
of his blood. Even as Krolen had dragged her into the backroom, she could
see her ex-husband lying on the floor. He had thrown her inside and locked
the door. She had been so afraid that Krolen had gone back to kill Ray,
but she had heard no gunshot. No noise except a harsh cry from the young
punk that Ray had protected. Krolen had come back after a few minutes and
he had beaten her. As he hit her he yelled about her driving his family
away, about how she needed to learn respect, that no woman would get the
better of him. It was all lost is a haze of pain and fear. The one thing
she had heard, however, the comment about her cop 'friend' not being able
to save her. Ray. She didn't remember much off the beating. Perhaps she
had passed out. When she awoke she found that her hands were bound tightly
against her back. Ignoring the pain in her body, she wiggled around until
she could sit up. She could hear the police outside. *Ray.* There was no
sound in the convience store. None so loud that she could hear. She
whimpered softly and closed her eyes. 

 * 

 "Everything is in place. Call Krolen. Tell him his car is ready." Welsh
looked at his watch. 45 minutes since last contact. He looked at the SWAT
team leader who stood before him. 

 "No cowboy crap, alright? If your boys can get a clear shot, take it. I
don't want State's Attorney Kowalski hurt. Or my detective for that
matter." The team leader nodded. 

 "Make the call." Welsh opened up the cellphone and dialed Ray's number.
Krolen picked up on the first ring. 

 "Is that my car?", he asked, referring to the blue Corsica behind the
lieutenant. Though he could not see the man, Welsh looked at the store as
he spoke. 

 "Yeah." There was a short pause on the line. 

 "Alright. I'll be out in a second with the Kowalski woman. No games." 

 "You have my word.", the lieuteanant replied. 

 Stella scrambled back as the door opened. Krolen took her arm and yanked
her roughly to her feet. 

 "Time to go, bitch." As they walked toward the enterance, Stella's eyes
darted to the young punk and then to her ex-husband, who lay on his
stomach with his hands tied behind his back. The blood on the side of his
head had dried to a dark red crust. Their eyes met and her name formed on
his lips. 

 "Ray?" The detective fought aggressively against the cloth that bound
him. 

 "Stella." Krolen steered her forward roughly and out of the door. Ray
continued to hurriedly twist the cloth. His wrists began to burn, but he
ignored the pain. Now they bled and his finger just brushed the knot. 

 Welsh and the officers moved back and away from the car as Krolen,
holding Stella in front of him and keeping the barrel of his Anaconda
against her back. Harding took a small step forward. 

 "I'm Lieutenant Welsh. Detective Vecchio and the boy are inside? Alive?"
Krolen nodded. 

 "Yeah.", he replied. The lieutenant looked at Fraser. 

 "Constable Fraser is going inside now.", he said. He is unarmed.",
Harding said, gesturing to Benton . 

 "Just make sure he don't make any sudden movements.", Krolen replied.
Welsh nodded his head, indicating that Fraser go ahead. Ben moved slowly,
with Diefenbaker a step behind him. 

 "Where are the keys?", Krolen asked, his eyes darting between Welsh and
Ben. Fraser fought the urge to run. It seemed to take forever to close the
short distance between himself and the store. 

 "In the ignition.", he heard Welsh reply. Finally inside he moved quickly
to the two hostages beside the counter. 

 * 

 "Fraser.", Ray gasped with relief. "Where's Stella?" Ben moved quickly
untie the cloth that bound the punk's wrists. The boy groaned, his eyes
fluttering open. Diefenbaker sat beside the young man and nudged the
teen's face as Fraser turned his attention to his partner. 

 "Where's Stella?", Ray asked again, his voice edging on panic. Fraser
struggled with the cloth. It was moist with blood and sweat, making the
knot much harder to undo. 

 "She's outside, Ray. With Krolen. He's using her as a hostage." Finally
getting the knot undone, he removed it and tossed it aside. Ray sprang up,
crying out in pain as he did. 

 "He'll kill her." he gasped, "I have to get out there." Ben stood quickly
and took hold of his partner. 

 "Fraser! Lemme go!" Ray twisted in his grasp, trying to pull away. 

 "Lieuteanant Welsh requested that you stay here and not interefere." He
could see Ray's face contort in a show of pain with every twist and push.
He didn't want upset the detective's injuries further, but he could not
allow him to leave. 

 "He's going to kill her, Fraser!", Ray said again. Diefenbaker whimpered
and barked, reminding his companion about the boy, who still seemed
groggy. Having no other choice, Ben grabbed Ray by the arms and pushed him
against the counter. 

 "Ray!", he snapped. The detective continued to struggle. 

 "Fraser, goddamnit! She needs me. I promised her! Lemme go!",he yelled. 

 "Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray.", Ben continued, trying to reason with his
friend."You are injured and you have been through a harrowing experience,
you need to calm down!" 

 "Fraser! I'm gonna pop ya! Get yer hands off me!",Ray growled, pushing
the Mountie's hands away. 

 "Ray--" The punch caught the Mountie offguard, sending him back a few
feet. Diefenbaker barked and growled. Ray pushed past him and started
toward the door. Ben shook off the stun and moved forward. Ray injuries
resticted his movement and he didn't get far. Fraser caught him a few feet
from the door and yanked him back. The detective yelped in pain and
collasped into Ben's embrace. Alarmed, Ben lay him down on the floor. The
boy moved toward them slowly, rubbing his head. 

 * 

 A few feet from the car, Krolen stopped walking. His eyes moved to Welsh,
around the area to the numerous officers who stood with their fingers
resting on their still holstered weapons. 

 "I just wanted to make a point.", Krolen said, not looking blankly at
Welsh. "Just wanted to make a point." 

 * 

 "Is he gonna be o.k.?", the boy asked quietly. Fraser gently stroked
Ray's hair. The detective's head moved from side to side. 

 "I don't know.", Ben replied. He glanced up at the teen. 

 "What's your name, son?" 

 "Kyle.", the punk replied, "What happened to the lady? Is she alright?"
Ben's jaw tightened, but he did not answer. 

 * 

 "What point were trying to make, Mr. Krolen.", Welsh asked cautiously,
exchanging a tense glance with the team leader. Krolen swayed. 

 "No woman will ever get the better of me." It a second for Harding to
catch the meaning behind those words, but the realization came too late.
Even as he opened his mouth to alert the team leader, Krolen fired four
shots into Stella's back. 

 * 

 Ben's head snapped up at the sound of those shots. He was pushed back
hard as Ray rose to feet and started toward the door even as Ben tried to
reach for him. Before the last shot was finished, it was joined by a dozen
others. The police had opened fired. Glass shattered, littering the floor.
What happened then was a blur. Ray got as far as the door before a bullet
hit him in shoulder. Ben took hold of Kyle and swung him away from the
door, protecting the boy with his own body. As Ray collasped, both Welsh
and the team leader ordered their men to hold their fire. 

 Silence. Ben let go of the teen, checking him over for wounds quickly.
Finding none, he went to his partner's side. Blood was pooling beneath the
wound in Ray's shoulder and soaking his coat. Ray's eyes were dull, glazed
with pain. 

 "I promised....her. I..p-promised.", he murmured. 

 "Ray...",the Mountie whispered. Welsh, flanked by the paramedics entered
the convience store. Ben looked up at the lieutenant in questioning.
*Stella?* Harding shook his head. Fraser glanced down at his fallen
partner. 

 "Stella...", Ray whispered. Tears rolled down the sides of his face. Ben
took hold of his friend's hand. Two medics went about looked after the
detective, while another looked at Kyle. Fraser squeezed his friend's hand
reassuringly and realized that Ray had worn his wedding band today. 

 End