Pirouette by L.A.K.	  Pairings: Vecchio/Turnbull, Fraser/Female,
Fraser/Vecchio
 Teaser: Rennie, Dief and Ray have located Fraser and Victoria. How will
the trio succeed in turning them over to the authorities? How will Ray
react when he finally confronts Fraser?
 Notes/Disclaimer: Copyright to Alliance.  

  **This is the fourth in a series of four:**
 The first is Choreography by Gilda Lily
 The second is Strange Duet by L.A.K.
 The third is Symphony of Simplicity by L.A.K.	

   Pirouette
 by L.A.K.  

  The cognac numbed his lips and burned sweetly on the way down. He took
another sip, reveling in the sensation. Head back, eyes closed, he sighed.
He was already fuzzyheaded. He stared at the raging fire before him, the
way the flames danced around the brick hearth, nestled in the middle of
the elaborate wooden abode. The cabin honestly could not be seen from a
distance, since it was so shrouded by the peaks and valleys that dotted
the area. He vowed he'd never live as he had in Chicago ever again. This
ostentatious cabin, complete with all the luxuries anyone would need,
proved it. 

 It had been so long since he'd been able to indulge himself. He squeezed
his eyes shut. It was better to not be reminded of it all, to look to the
future instead. One did what one needed to have the life they'd planned on
years ago. This was his time now. 

 His companion came in the room at that moment and he let his eyes rake
over her small form. He mused to himself just how much he was going to
enjoy making up for lost time. She looked at him with disdain, but it did
not matter. He was free and he planned to keep it that way. 

 "What are you doing?" Victoria asked, obviously annoyed. 

 He sighed heavily. 

 "What does it look like I'm doing?" 

 "It looks like you're getting drunk." She snapped. Her eyes bore into
him, but it had little effect. "We need to stay sharp. We're not out of
this yet and we need to keep moving. We are leaving here soon and don't
have time for this!" 

 He regarded the glass in his hand, placed it on the mantle, and then
smiled as he gently took hold of her small wrist. 

 "I thought we talked about that." He remarked absently. 

 "About what?" she asked. 

 His grip tightened. Slowly, menacingly, he constricted his fingers to the
point of intense pain. 

 "What the...? Let me *go*! Ben, I said go of me, damn it!" 

 Victoria began roughly pulling away from him, her anger increasing.
Fraser simply twisted her arm until she yelped. He grabbed her by the
shoulders, shaking her as he spoke. 

 "You do *not* tell me what the HELL to do anymore, got it?! I wasted an
entire YEAR of my life for you, convinced I was the naive fool, having to
be around those bloody morons all the fucking time! I'm done with your
orders, do you *understand*?!" 

 "Get your hands OFF me! LET ME GO!!" she screamed. 

 He violently shoved her away. He seized the glass off the mantle. His
gaze glided over her again, his eyes primal, his breathing wild. 

 "Fine...*this* time." 

 She backed away, the fear and hesitancy plain on her face. She knew that
threat, the insinuation of carnal assault. She'd come to expect it from
him when he'd been drinking. But the mask dropped into place so fast, he
barely blinked before being rewarded with a sly, mischievous smile. It
made him warm to stare into those hypnotic eyes, her voice so smooth and
entrancing. To surrender to the power she held over him... 

 "Well, I know you're stressed, baby. But it'll be over soon." She cooed,
the tranquil tone, the seductive lilt mesmerizing him as it always had, as
it had saved and condemned his life at Fortitude Pass years ago. "Then we
can relax and live in style." It touched something deep inside him,
stirring his very soul. He swayed a bit, placing his hand on the wall. 

 She slid up beside him. The only image he could compare it with was a
snake. A beautiful, dark creature, overwhelming and deadly... He was
growing dizzier, and more excited, by the second. Her sheer presence for
him had always been more intoxicating than any drug. One he could never
get enough of. She was his shield, his denial. 

 The glass was slipping from his hand, but it was taken before he dropped
it. He grabbed onto the wall for support, knowing if only he could touch
her, it would make his head stop swimming. Her sweet venom could stop the
chaos in his mind. It always had. She coiled her arm behind him in a loose
embrace. 

 His eyes closed, his breathing erratic, the world slowly stopped spinning
as he recovered in her arms. There was a surge in the tingling in his
groin. It reminded him why he loved her. The bitch was as cold-blooded as
he was. His reptilian counterpart. She always got what she wanted, of
course. He'd stop drinking, and instead relish the way she gave up the
puss to make him purr like a well-fed tiger. It was her usual solution to
their fights. Sad fact was he more than conceded to it. It was his
ultimate addiction. 

 "Yeah, that's right." He whispered as he held her tighter. 

 He began to strip her quickly. 

 He loved being home. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 Rennie was right, Ray silently mused, as he worked alone on his newfound
interest. There was something oddly entertaining about being an obsessive
compulsive. He could concentrate on this task and find himself more
preoccupied with the simple hobby than the last six months of his life.
Ray cursed, having gotten glue on his hands again. He laid down the piece
of plastic shard. He soaked a tissue with acetone to wipe his fingers
clean. He jumped at the voice behind him. 

 "Still mooning over that bastard, huh?" 

 "Go away, Pop." 

 "What do you thinks gonna' happen anyway? That once you find him, he'll
just turn himself in?" 

 "I'm not talking to you, Pop, so you might as well go away." 

 "That female has him so bewitched he doesn't *want* to see straight!
Can't you see that?!" 

 "I see that very clearly!" Ray said, refusing to look at the ghost. "Why
do you think I'm here?" 

 His father came in close, sneering in his ear. 

 "How could you let that oily bastard Zuko do that stuff to you? How could
you do that to him? You are no son of mine!" 

 Ray jumped from his chair, spinning to face the apparition. 

 "Damned straight, Pop! I'll never be like you!" 

 "Uh-huh. And see where it's gotten you? You let that canuk screw you
over, and then you fuck Frankie to keep my house from going under! Now,
here you are, in the middle of an icebox, ready to give it up to that
moron. If you'd had looked out for yourself-" 

 "GET LOST!!!" Ray screamed. "I don't EVER want to see you again! Do you
hear me?!" 

 "Ray! Ray, wake up!" 

 The Italian's eyes flew open and stared into the face of his worried
partner. Ray had fallen asleep at the table while working on his plastic
project. 

 "You were having a bad dream." 

 "Oh." 

 Ray didn't know what else to say. His bad dreams had been a source of
Ren's concern for some time now. They had, thankfully, decreased somewhat
as of late. Not that Turnbull, the biggest worried mother hen of all
Mounties, would believe him. 

 "Do you want to talk about it?" Ren sheepishly asked. 

 "No...no, I don't." Ray squeezed his eyes shut. "Maybe later. What have
you got?" 

 "Well," Rennie said, reluctantly turning his attention to the papers
before him. "We head out tomorrow for the section I've got marked off
here. Dief agrees we very well might get lucky this time." 

 It was another late night at the outpost. This time, there were a couples
of roll-a-away beds set out for them in a remote room, seeing as Ray
demanded some type of bedding be made available. The couch was hard enough
on his back as it was. The Italian began to scan the sections Rennie
marked off. 

 "This looks promising, Rennie! I've got to hand it to you, this is better
than I expected." 

 Ren sat on the edge of the bed and glumly stared at the floor. 

 "As much as some may think differently, they do not hand out the red
serge to idiots, Detective." He stoically responded. 

 The Italian's eyes bugged out. "I didn't say that, Turnbull!" 

 "No, you just thought it in the past." 

 It was apparent to Ray something was really bothering the young
Constable. There was a pause before Ray responded. 

 "Then I was wrong." The American stated, truthfully addressing the fact
Ren was right about his previous perception of the blond Constable.
"What's going on, Ren?" 

 "You're concerned about what Garette said, aren't you?" 

 Ray lowered his eyes. "How can I not be? That guy was right where he said
he would be, right here at the outpost." 

 "You told me, Ray, not everything that man says makes sense." 

 "That's true enough. But what about you, Ren? You don't believe him? Not
in the least?" 

 Trying to get the old man who had visions to aid them in their quest
wasn't easy. It more like the mental equivalent of pulling teeth. At the
start, Garette was determined to not help them. He saw it as some odd
disloyalty to Fraser. 

 The older man had looked into the ex-Mountie's soul and saw kindness, a
gentle spirit. Oddly enough, it was that belief which made him eventually
decide to aid Turnbull and the Detective. He wanted to understand *not*
how he could've been so utterly wrong, but what had made the benevolent
man he knew disappear. 

 He placed his hands on the one item Ray had that bound them together and
listened as the homeless man made his predictions, telling of his visions
featuring Fraser and Victoria. It was difficult for both men to listen to
the intimate details of the other's involvement with the older Canadian.
Ray abandoned his constructing the pieces of plastic before him and came
to recline at the head of the bed. 

 "He's a marksman, Ray." Ren said. "You know that. You've seen him vicious
and manipulative and cunning...and that's when he was the good guy." 

 Ray smiled, but said nothing. Finally, Turnbull turned to look at him. 

 "I'm not sure if *we're* coming out of this either." 

 "You think he's gonna' kill us, Ren?" 

 It was a fact Ray didn't like to think about, but was aware it was a
possibility. 

 "I think he's not going to let us take him in and he won't leave Victoria
behind." Ren looked away. "You loved him, didn't you?" 

 Ray said nothing. This conversation was long overdue. They'd discussed
escape routes, plans for capture and return, how the media should be
handled and even each other's lives. They never, however, talked about
what they felt for Fraser. 

 "Yeah, I did." Ray answered. 

 Ren seemed to think about that for a minute before responding. 

 "I don't think I loved him. It was more of an obsession. Ray, do you
remember when Garette said, 'The half moon is a sad devotion.'?" 

 "Yeah, so? I still don't know what he meant by that." 

 "I...think I do." 

 "Really? What, then?" Ray asked. 

 Rennie grabbed the bottom of his sweater and pulled it up over his head
and off. Ray's eyes lingered over his chest momentarily, finally resting
on a faint white scar on Rennie's right clavicle. It was shaped like a
lemon wedge. 

 "What is that?" Ray breathed. 

 In response, Rennie lifted his right foot to rest on his other knee. He
was wearing boots. He looked at Ray, then away, utterly ashamed. 

 "What? I don't get it." 

 Ren nodded his head toward his boot. Finally, it sunk in. 

 "A HEEL print!!" Vecchio roared. "That's a scar from a fucking heel
*print* of a Mountie boot!? That bastard did this to you?!" 

 "I let him do this to me..." Rennie corrected. "I didn't obey him fast
enough. He thought he heard someone in the hallway while I was in his
office...serving him, so he shoved me away with his foot. But that's not
what caused the scar though. He was so angry, once he stood, he violently
kicked me. My shoulder exploded in pain. I thought the bone was broken. It
wasn't though." 

 Ray stayed silent only because he was reeling from shock. 

 "Mostly, almost all the time, I'd serve him on my knees." Ren stated, his
voice empty, his eyes far away. "He'd call me to his office, I'd kneel,
he'd finish, and I'd leave. Once in a while, he'd get behind me and stroke
me to completion, talking the all the while. I...loved his voice, it
was...anyway, it was nearly impossible for me to finish sometimes, knowing
he just wanted to get it over with." He swallowed heavily. Ray waited.
"Despite that, I went back to him. Whatever he wanted, I surrendered." 

 He stole a quick glance at his partner, seeing nothing but compassion in
Ray's eyes. 

 "I don't love him now, of course." Ray said honestly. "I don't think I'll
ever be completely over what he did, Rennie. The nightmares I have are
proof of that alone. But I certainly do not feel that for him anymore." 

 Rennie looked away, muttering, "Maybe then we can be together without him
getting in the way." 

 Confused, Ray asked, "What do you mean?" 

 "Nothing." 

 "Oh, come on, what is it?" 

 The younger man sighed in exasperation. "It's all we talk about, Ray!
There really is no 'us' unless there is a mention of him. I'm just
wondering what's going to happen once they're caught. I don't want to be
compared to him. I don't want you to be with me to erase his absence in
your life! I...hate it when I know you're thinking about him, dreaming
about the pain he caused you. Can you understand that?" 

 Ray was surprised. The blond Canadian was, in a way, jealous of Fraser.
Clearly, he was worried all the Italian cared about was apprehending the
ex-Mountie. 

 "Rennie, I would never do that! Okay, well, maybe in the beginning I did,
but believe me when I say I don't think of him when I look at you." 

 "Really?" Ren plaintively asked. 

 Eyes of the sky, soft as a summer's day, pleaded for that to be true. Ray
understood perfectly. Turnbull had been there through all of Vecchio's
tears and hate they both had to endure during this hunt. At times, the
Italian believed he would go mad from all the pain and mental anguish he
could not let go of. Still, Ren stayed with him, allowing him to vent in
whatever manner he needed at the time. Now, all the Mountie was asking for
was recognition. 

 "Yeah, it is. And you're right. We'll talk about something else, okay?"
Ray smilingly reassured him. 

 "What *do* you see in me?" Ren asked, his voice uncertain. 

 It was at that point Ray was convinced that dumb Mountie act was a course
all of them were required to take. It was unbelievably endearing. This was
it. It was truly time to put Fraser in the past and find a future in the
friend before him. Vecchio leaned forward, taking one of Rennie's hands in
his. He pressed his hand to his lips as he spoke. Ren could feel the
vibrations of his voice. 

 "I see you, Ren. Nothing else, just you." 

 Ren came closer and searched Ray's face questioningly. The Canadian
cupped his cheek and kissed him timidly. Ray responded just as lightly. He
placed his arm around Ren and pulled him close. Rennie began to kiss him
again, a little more each time. He thought the Canadian's blush was
adorable. 

 They were let their tongues dance together, tentative caresses growing
bolder by the second. Ray wanted to tell Turnbull how beautiful he thought
he was, that just the idea of being with him caused a tightness in his
chest. The younger man would never understand, of course. He'd have to
show him instead. 

 "Come on, Ren." 

 Ray felt the warm tingle increase all over while looking at that
beautiful chest. He went to undo his tie, when Rennie's hand came up to
stop him. 

 "I'll do that." He insisted. 

 He set the knot free and slipped the cloth from around the Italian's long
neck. Ray swallowed and Rennie became fixated on his throat. His lips
latched onto the side of it, sucking gently. Ray openly panted at the
glorious sensation, his hand coming up to ruffle through the blond hair.
He pulled the Canadian up, onto the bed with him. While kneeling, Ray
unbuttoned his shirt slowly. 

 Rennie watched in fascination. He found the wiry hair so very different
from his own body. He went up on his knees as well and found himself
rubbing his face all over it, cupping a pec with reverence, letting his
mouth brush over the waiting nip, followed by his tongue and nimble lips.
It was incredible watching Rennie suck his chest as if it were ambrosia. 

 Ray could tell the Mountie was tensing up badly. Ren's back was becoming
like a tightly wound spring, his arms moving stiffly. That's when the
Italian stood to remove his own pants, shucking them and his underwear
quickly. 

 "What's wrong?" 

 "Nothing, Rennie. I just wanted them off." 

 Turnbull went for his jeans when Ray laid a restraining hand over his. 

 "Let me do that." He said while smiling. 

 Rennie grinned like a schoolboy while Ray rejoined him. The American
undid the zipper and scooped out the prize within. His hand gripped around
the hard cock, pulling out the flushed pink sac that was dusted with dark
hair. Turnbull was paralyzed at the feeling. The Italian began stroking
the shaft, causing reverberations throughout Ren's body. Turnbull hastily
removed his boots and Ray eased the jeans down until Rennie removed them. 

 By now, Turnbull was breathing in short pants, his concentration totally
focused on the sensations in his groin. He was trying his best to come as
fast as possible as he'd been taught in the past by Fraser. Ray enveloped
him in his free arm, the other still intent on bring as much pleasure as
he could. 

 "Calm down, Ren." He whispered. "You don't need to rush. I'm not going
anywhere." 

 Turnbull squinted and leaned back to look down, completely entranced by
the sight of Ray's elegant hand doing incredible things to him. 

 "I'll try." He breathed, his broad form trembling. 

 "Tell me, Ren. Tell me what you've wanted to do to me." 

 Ray knew he was taking a chance, but he had a feeling this would work.
Vecchio believed since Ren was so restrained, simply voicing his need
would be quite thrilling for the Mountie. He stroked while Ren became more
and more explicit in his descriptions of what he wanted to do to Ray. The
younger man began speaking in half sentences, backed by the Italian's
affirmations. 

 "...I've wanted to...taste you...all over." 

 "Oh, I'd like that." 

 "....wanted to make you come so hard...I..." 

 "How, Rennie? Tell me how." 

 "Anyway you want." 

 They tentatively kissed and caressed one another as they spoke. Vecchio
found he was getting into it as well, incredibly turned on by the simple
act of getting the shy Canadian to talk dirty. He finally had Ren take
hold of his own throbbing dick and pump it slowly. After a while, the
Detective made another request. 

 "Lean back, Ren. Look at yourself. See how beautiful you are." 

 Rennie leaned back on his hands, making his dick stand out, blatantly
offering it to the Italian, making the Detective dizzy. Rennie laid his
head back, the low light from the lamp making his pale body glow. A thin
sheen of sweat covered him, his legs spread far apart, his hands gripping
the edge of the bed. He obviously loved this chance to display himself to
Ray, to indulge in such exhibitionism. It made Ray's own cock strain again
for attention. Ray's hand started from his neck, moving down, over the
pale chest, stopping briefly at the nipples, touching the sides and
feeling of that flat, muscled stomach, back to that delicious piece of
meat. 

 "See? I told you you were beautiful." 

 Ren smiled modestly and Ray leaned in kissing his chest, licking and
sucking at the dusty rose nips. The smooth areolas turned to a rigid nub
under the moist touch, causing the Canadian to whimper slightly. The
Italian leaned down, brushing the weeping cockhead against his cheek, the
stubble assaulting his partner like tiny lightening bolts. Ray felt a hand
touch the inside of his thigh and he gasp. The hand moved up to the warmth
of his tight balls, and he shivered. He went completely still when
Turnbull once again encircled his turgid shaft. 

 "Yeah, that's it...don't stop." Ray whispered, his mouth covering
Rennie's. 

 His mouth opened and it was all heat and warmth and light spilling into
him. Ray returned the favor by licking up his neck and nibbling on his
ear. He allowed the hand to continue its journey of driving him wild,
wanting it, needing it to happen. He pushed Ren down, their cocks touching
for the first time. Rennie grabbed him and hung on, suddenly became intent
on grinding his groin into Ray's until they melded that way. 

 "Oh, yes, Ray.... please, that feels *so* good..." he pleaded. 

 Ray couldn't bare a response it was so overwhelming. He growled and
thrust back, the nearly imperceptible hair on Rennie's stomach acting like
a thousand tiny fingers to the Italian's throbbing meat. He slammed
against Ren, craving to come, the man beneath him even more out of
control. Strong, muscular legs wrapped around him, while heavy arms
grabbed him tight. 

 The blond bucked his hips wildly, meeting Ray's cock and brushing his own
against that lightly furred stomach making him insane with desire. He
wanted to come more than anything. A soft voice could be heard telling him
to relax, to slow down. Ray was trying to get him to not seek an end so
quickly. The Italian got up on his knees. 

 Vecchio caressed his partner's legs and thighs, swirling his hand in the
erotic juice on Rennie's torso. Ray continued the exploration, his eyes
lustfully gazing over the gorgeous, hot and sexy body before him. Rennie
was getting antsy, wanting to try again, certain he'd finish this time.
Before he could speak, Ray leaned into him and uttered the gentlest words,
making him jump out of his skin. 

 "Can I fuck you, Caro?" 

 "Yes!" he snapped. 

 Rennie answered before Ray finished the request, but Vecchio just smiled
and obtained the needed supplies from the nightstand. He got in between
those splayed thighs, then lubed up those slender fingers, letting the
excess run over and down them. Ren watched in restrained glee. He allowed
a most arrogant thought to drift toward the evil man he once would have
done anything for. 

 **I'm so glad you left when you did. If you had let him do this to you
and *then* turned your back on him, I swear I'd kill you slowly myself.** 

 Once those fingers found their way home, first one, then two, slowly
working in and out of the puckered ring, it pushed the usually subdued
Canadian to the brink of his control. His aching manhood was pumped, the
slickness of his own wetness combined with the excess K-Y created a
gloriously erotic feeling. Intense carnal joy transformed his angular face
into a smiling, laughing visage. He mentally exclaimed maybe the
ex-Mountie should watch his back even now. 

 "Knees up, Rennie. Yeah, that's it." 

 His patience was lost when Ray slowly rolled down the condom. 

 "Please Ray, hurry!" 

 The Italian quirked one corner of his mouth. "My, I don't think I've ever
seen you impatient, Rennie." 

 "Oh God, don't tease me, Ray. I can't...I need..." 

 Ray relented. "Sure, baby. I know you need it." 

 Vecchio positioned himself and pushed. He pushed again and was met with
resistance. He thrust again and found the head being engulfed in a tight
hotness. It made him shudder deeply, the shocking rawness of the act
burning through him. It was an exquisite, unexpected high which made him
profoundly aware of the man he was mating with. There was no one else in
the entire world except the two of them. 

 "Oh, fuck, yes! Rennie, oh God, Ren..." Vecchio breathed. 

 Turnbull arched his hips and Ray slid further in. Rennie's passage was so
snug, he felt like he was being pulled inside. As much as he wanted to
repeatedly nail his partner, he went slowly. A steady pace of rocking back
and forth ensued. The Canadian met him in his thrusts, his powerful legs
resting in the crook of Ray's arms. Finally, the Italian was all the way
in. 

 The searing warmth surrounding his cock made Ray tremble. He was falling
into Rennie in spirit, mind and body. He resumed pumping his hips,
delighting in the sensuous elation, surrendering to the lascivious
appetite created in him by his partner. It was primal and untamed. The
Italian looked down, thrilled to see his lover was experiencing that
wonderful ache as well. Ren's head back, eyes tightly shut, his heels
instinctively hooked under Ray's arms, he was groaning continuously,
clinging to Vecchio's hips hard enough to bruise. He was absolutely
beautiful. 

 Ray began to lose himself in it completely, allowing the bliss to
permeate him. He leaned down, letting Rennie envelop him in those thick
arms. Turnbull's head was back, his face lax with desire, his eyes open,
but barely seeing. Rennie began canting his hips over and over again and
Ray knew he was close. The Italian began bucking his hips slower, and
leaned in enough to latch onto a nipple with his hot mouth. 

 Ren gasped loudly, his hands drifting down to Ray's back, the chills all
consuming. He grabbed Ray's ass, holding on tight. He used it as an anchor
to direct his hips and to pull the Detective in farther. The combination
of Rennie's dick pounding against his stomach, his own prick buried to the
hilt in that fine Canadian ass, the crinkled nub in his mouth and the
paw-like hands deeply massaging his butt was more than Ray could take. His
head snapped back, the nipple making a popping sound when he let go, his
climax rushing to the surface, through his soul, like wildfire. 

 "RENNIE!!!" He screamed. 

 He fought the urge to weep, but could not prevent his energy level from
nearly dying. Only partially recovered, Ray braced his wobbly body so he
could help Rennie finish. Ren continued to propel his hips, his eyes
locked onto the Detective's. His mouth opened, closed, his eyes fluttered
shut. His head went back, the tremors in his body increasing. He smiled
and whimpered. Ray found himself grinning at the sight. The Mountie looked
down, mesmerized by the sight of his dick sandwiched between their two
stomachs. He continued to stare when he his orgasm became imminent. His
gaze flickered back and forth, fighting with the need to stare into the
eyes of his lover or literally witness his own cock coming. 

 "Keep watching it, Ren. See it happen." 

 It was scary. Terrifying that Ray read his mind. He gave in to the
perversely thrilling sight, excited beyond reason or thought while
watching the hairy, shiny, sticky skin rub against his dick until it
spurted white, all over, adding contrast to the thick clear film ...total
heaven. He collapsed, barely registering Ray leaning down over him. They
eventually wound up on their sides, facing one another. 

 He didn't know how much time elapsed before he heard Ray speak. 

 "Rennie, don't feel ashamed for what you did with him. We all have
something to regret." 

 "And what do you regret, Ray?" he asked. 

 Ren rose up on one arm and saw deep into those pain-filled green eyes.
The Italian looked like he was going to cry. 

 "Honestly?" 

 "Always." 

 "Letting Frankie have at me." 

 Ren felt a pang of hatred mixed with sadness that bounced between Ray,
Fraser and Zuko. He touched Ray's cheek when he spoke. 

 "There wasn't much else you could've done, Ray, considering the
circumstances. He planned for Fraser and Victoria to show up that night to
destroy your world. He needed to emotionally cripple you so you would
submit. There's no shame in that." 

 Ray wouldn't meet his gaze. 

 "There's more to it than that, Ren." 

 Rennie sighed. Ray had promised to talk about something other than
Fraser. He realized now that not everything they spoke of would be easy to
hear. "Tell me, Ray." 

 Finally, Ray looked at him. 

 "You know Frankie and I were together before then?" 

 Ren did not look away. 

 "Yes. I know that." 

 "We were just kids." Vecchio explained. "About fourteen or so. About five
of us went over to Frankie's house to get him so we could all go play ball
at the nearby court. His parents were out of the country. He'd broken into
his father's wine cellar. We all wound up getting a little toasted. One by
one, the other kids left, saying for us to meet them at the park. I ended
up alone with him. Next thing I know, Frankie's kneeling in front of me,
his elbows on my knees. He's smiling and...I don't know about you, but
when I was that age, tree knotholes excited me." 

 Ren couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry." He said, clearing his throat. 

 "S'Okay." Ray said, smiling. He continued, his voice suddenly full of
awe. "I...I'd never felt anything like that. It was heaven. We were only
together a handful of times. We stopped because he was terrified of his
father finding out. Plus, Frankie beat up this defenseless kid at school.
It sickened me that I could have wanted him like that." 

 "Ray, I'm so sor-" Surprisingly, Ray cut him off, as if he hadn't even
heard him. 

 "This time, I hated and despite everything Frankie did. Eventually, my
body responded in spite of what I thought of him. He...made me get
pleasure from it. I wanted...him to continue. He asked me, right in the
middle of it, did I want him to stop and I knew he would've if I told him
to, just to torment me. He would mercilessly coax me and I gave in, I
*let* him do it. I would tell myself I had to, that I was scared not to,
but there was a part of me that was beginning to enjoy that bastard." His
face revealed his defeat, his self-loathing. "After that, I would try to
tune him out and most of the time I could, but how do think I feel knowing
I did that? And...it...it was easier to get off than have to remember what
Fraser did to me. Why do you think I tried to kill myself? I was Zuko's
bitch and everyone knew it." 

 "My God, Ray! What were you suppose to do?! Who could prevent that from
happening to themselves? You're only human!" 

 Ray looked so distraught at that moment. "Then why do I feel like a
pervert?" 

 "Because he forced you to enjoy something you hated! It's still rape,
Ray, even though it excited you. He *made* you go to him time after time.
That's not being a willing participant. Just because your body demanded to
be sated doesn't make you sick like him." 

 "You really believe that?" the Detective asked skeptically. 

 "Yes, I do." 

 Ray managed a feeble smile. "You know that nightmare I had earlier? It
was about my dad." 

 "It was?" 

 "Yeah. Not much to tell, really. Same old stuff. Pop believed we put him
through a lot when we were growing up, like we were taking up his time or
something. Him always telling me to look out for number one..." 

 Ren waited, but Ray seemed lost in thought. 

 "Ray?" 

 "I'm here, Rennie. Just got a crazy notion in my head. Looks like Pop may
do some good after all." 

 They snuggled close together before drifting off to sleep. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 They would not be leaving the cabin for at least a few days, much to
Metcalf's disdain. She wanted to leave the cabin as of yesterday. A storm
was coming and it was gaining in its intensity. The snow would be heavy,
but would not prevent them from leaving as planned. The law was not as hot
on their trail as before, but Fraser was still being careful by not
staying in one place too long. They were both making their way to obtain
supplies. Victoria accompanied with him on the second snowmobile, seeing
as they would need to pull the sled back and Metcalf was claiming she
going nuts, being cooped up in the cabin. It obviously did not matter to
her there was a storm starting to pound the area. 

 Up ahead was their contact. Constable Perry was meeting them with various
containers meant to get them through the next several days. The meeting
place was just a few miles from the cabin. While tracking them back would
not be difficult, Fraser felt there was no reason to bring the man to
directly to his front porch. Fraser and Victoria alighted from the
snowmobile. The ex-Mountie paid for the stuff and watched the other man
leave before he began rummaging through the boxes. Metcalf was becoming
impatient. 

 "Are you going to go through all of that now?" 

 He rolled his eyes, beginning to realize just why the Gods determined
they should stay apart for extended periods of time before reuniting.
There was less possibility he'd strangle her. 

 "Yes, my dear, I am. Perry only got us what he knew wouldn't hopefully go
missing. He'll need to return and collect anything we don't need. Besides,
I'm not taking garbage back." 

 Victoria wrapped her coat around herself tighter, sneering at the snow. 

 "Now is not a great time for you to get paranoid." She quipped. 

 "You know," He snapped, throwing down a canister. "It is remarkable how
utterly useless you become once I try to get a handle on things." 

 "Don't *call* me that, you bastard! Remember you wouldn't have been able
to pull off your role in that filthy dump of a city without my unique form
of *persuasion*! Why don't you concern yourself with finding a way to keep
the wolves from eating our supplies?" 

 He spun to look at her. 

 "*What* wolves?" he growled. 

 "The ones who left paw prints out back. I noticed them this morning." 

 He began tearing the boxes apart in frenzy, leaving the food and other
items scattered about. 

 "What's going on?!" Victoria demanded. 

 He found the box he was looking for. Written on the outside was, 'From
Detective Armani'. He ripped open the box and let his eyes roam over the
item within, the shock and fury rising by the nanosecond. It was the
remains of the shattered snow globe, now each delicate piece glued snugly
together. At the top, in the corner, there was one missing piece. It
symbolized loss and the meeting of a challenge. He knew who had found him.


 "That wasn't *just* a wolf." He stated, his eyes still fixated on the
reassembled globe. "It was Diefenbaker." 

 "What?" she whispered, her eyes growing wide. 

 "We have to get out of here." 

 "That's crazy!" she exclaimed. "We'll never get ahead of that blizzard!" 

 He looked at her enraged. She was right. They were stuck. He grabbed the
snow globe out of the box and smashed it to pieces with his hands, just as
he did in the Vecchio household six months ago. 

 "VECCHIO!!" he screamed above the howling winds. "I KNOW YOU'RE OUT
THERE!! YOU ARE A DEAD MAN, DO YOU HEAR ME?! A *DEAD* MAN!!" 

 He faced her panting heavily, his throat sore from yelling. He reached
into the snowmobile and pulled out his father's rifle. He cocked his head,
straining to hear. The snow and the wind muffled the sounds of the area,
but he could tell the Italian was close by. 

 "What?" she asked. 

 "Quiet!" 

 The cock of a rifle was heard in the distance. Fraser lowered his own,
deciding instead to live. 

 "He won't shoot and backup won't come anyway, not until the storm let's
up." Fraser reasoned aloud. 

 "How the Hell did they find us?!" Victoria demanded. 

 "I don't know...I don't know..." was all the brilliant son of a legend
could mutter. 

 Once they emerged, they were striking, the trio poised against the
backdrop of the frozen northern sky. They descended the small hill slowly,
Ray's gun tipped sideways and aimed at Victoria. Ren's rifle was slung
over the crook of his arm, directed at Fraser. Dief barked and growled,
but stayed put. Fraser took it all in completely dumbfounded, but it
wasn't until he swallowed tightly did Ray revel in his fear. 

 The ex-Mountie looked so different than what Ray remembered. His hair was
longer and unkempt. He needed a shave and his eyes looked tired from
running. Something deep tugged at Vecchio when he looked in those eyes,
but he stayed firm. 

 "Give it up, Fraser. It's over. The Mountie's know where we are." 

 "I don't believe it..." he whispered, the snow making him blink quickly. 

 "Sorry to impress you, really I am." Ray drawled. 

 "No, I mean that you're fucking *him*!" Fraser spat back. 

 "I was good enough for you..." Turnbull cooed from behind his curled arm.
His smile was partially hidden, but obvious in his voice. 

 "What?!" Victoria demanded. "What does he mean by that?!" 

 "Shut the Hell up, bitch." the dark haired Canadian said flippantly. 

 She became livid. "You involved him in our plan?! You *fucked* him?! You
bloody BASTARD!" 

 She emphasized her point with a vicious slap across his face. What she
lacked in physical prowess, she made up with ferociousness. He stumbled,
caught off guard. 

 "Hmmm. Look, Ray." Ren cooed. "It appears they're about to start fucking
right out here in the cold." 

 Fraser met his eyes, staring stupidly. Turnbull lowered the gun precisely
five centimeters. He cocked his eyebrows, speaking in a haughty tone. 

 "You see, that's what Mr. Zuko told us. She likes to fight before getting
it. I do believe he called it her form of foreplay." 

 The demon within rose up and Fraser nearly exploded in a jealous rage. He
turned, grabbed Victoria, shaking her while screaming at her. 

 "Did you fuck that *wop*?! Did you?! ANSWER ME!!" 

 She couldn't speak he was throttling her so badly. She brought her knee
up, it connecting with his groin. He yelled and flinched, but did not let
go. Turnbull smiled the widest, most evil grin. He couldn't help but to
indulge in their pain. 

 **People can be too smart for their own good.** 

 Garette said that to him, but now it finally made sense: Ren couldn't
believe they were so stupid as to fall for the oldest routine in the book,
the practice of 'divide and conquer'. 

 Fraser slapped her hard. It was more of a punch. She landed on the
ground, but was on her feet in a flash, blood trickling from her lip.
Diefenbaker began to howl. The frigid wind carried the scent of blood from
the woman who tried to kill him and the delicious fear of his former,
traitorous pack leader. He was finding it hard to obey The Blond One and
The Donut Man. He wanted to taste that blood. Ren raised the gun so that
Fraser's head was back in his line of sight. 

 "Well, Fraser? Should I release the wolf?" Turnbull inquired. 

 Victoria began to panic, seeing the look in Dief's eyes. She remembered
that look from the time in Chicago when she shot him. 

 "No! Keep that thing away from me! Ben, do something!" 

 "I said shut up!" Fraser said. 

 Her eyes narrowed. She began talking to Fraser, her voice soft and calm. 

 "Get me the Hell out of here, Ben." 

 "Oh, no you don't, dearie!" Vecchio retorted, waving his gun. "One more
word out of you and I'll make sure he never hears that sweet little voice
again!" 

 Victoria just smiled, ducked behind Fraser and pulled her own weapon -
Ray's old backup gun. Ray and Ren exchanged nervous glances. 

 "Drop it, Victoria!" Ray demanded. 

 "Does it look familiar, Vecchio?" she sneered, coming to stand behind
Fraser. Her mate began to raise his father's rifle. 

 "Oh, no you don't!" Victoria snapped. "I'm not so sure I want you to get
through this, after screwing that moron, Fraser. You can be my *cover*,
though." 

 "Victoria, don't do this!" Fraser pleaded. "He...it meant nothing to me,
I swear!" 

 "That's not what you said when I had you down my throat." Ren arrogantly
retorted. 

 "Shut the fuck up, bitch!" Fraser spat back. 

 "Oh, I see he uses that name for the all the people he fucks, huh,
Vicky?!" Ren said, the words swimming in irony. 

 She used him as a human shield to move back towards the snowmobile. A
cold that rivaled the artic reflected in her eyes. 

 "Raise the gun, Fraser." She whispered. "And, by the way, Renfield, yes
he does." 

 Once Ben had, she turned her own firearm and shot... It was the second
time Rennie felt his shoulder explode in pain. He fell to the snowy ground
screaming, blood rapidly seeping through his coat. 

 "Oh, God!" he panted, clutching at his arm. 

 "*Rennie*!" Ray yelled, coming over to kneel with his lover. Somehow, his
aim never wavered. 

 "It's not bad..." Ren whispered, his breaths heavy in plumes of white
mist all around them. 

 "Come on, Vecchio!" Victoria coaxed from behind Ben's shoulder. "Get your
revenge! Shoot him! Shoot us both!" 

 Ray could hear klaxons going off in his head. The blood was pounding in
his ears, to the same beat it pulsated out of Rennie's body. He had to get
the bleeding stopped! Victoria turned to jump on the snowmobile. Fraser
stood still for a few seconds, rifle still trained on them, then joined
her. They didn't even look back when they took off. Just as before. 

 "Damn it!" Ray cursed and started after them. 

 Ren looked over at Dief, his arm aching. He screamed, "GO!" 

 Like greased lightening on literal ice, the wolf shot forward. Ren ran
behind him as best he could. It took no time at all for Dief to catch up
to them. They had only gotten a short distance away before a nearly rabid
wolf almost jumped them. Victoria looked behind her, saw how close
Diefenbaker was and headed straight for the lake. Fraser went ballistic. 

 "Not the ice, you fool! NOT the lake! It's only partially frozen!" 

 "He'd be crazy to follow, now wouldn't he?!" Metcalf responded as they
glided on to the frosty surface. 

 Fraser, however, wasn't in the mood to debate. 

 "I said, NOT the *lake*!" 

 He grabbed the controls and swerved the motorized sled to the left, but
Dief was way ahead of them. He'd already anticipated their move and turned
sharply, and jumped... 

 He landed on Fraser's back, tossing them both off the snowmobile, making
the rifle skip along the frozen field. The snowmobile was last seen
bubbling into the icy water. He allowed Fraser to toss him aside so he
could roll, roll, and scramble to his feet...and attack his prey head on. 

 "*NO*!!! Metcalf screamed at the top of her lungs as the white lupine
tore her clothing to shreds. 

 Ray and Ren waited on the shore watching the entire scenario. Fraser
looked helplessly from Victoria to Ray. The snow was coming down in sheets
now, collecting on everything and everyone. The only way to get to his gun
would be to cross the unstable, cracking ice. There was, of course,
another way. 

 "Call the wolf off!" he shouted to the two men he'd nearly destroyed. Ray
regarded him with angry eyes. 

 "Why, Fraser? Why should I?" 

 "Because he'll kill her!" 

 "And why should I care?" 

 The ex-Mountie was becoming exasperated. The screams of utter desperation
from his soulmate raked his guts like a scalpel. The frozen falling
particles tickled his nose as he briskly inhaled them. 

 "Vecchio, get that fucking dog off of her or I'll-" 

 The Italian sneered back, "Or you'll do WHAT?! YOU do not call the shots
here, Fraser! You want the wolf gone, you do it yourself!" 

 By now, the screams had ceased. Maybe she'd fainted, maybe worse. She was
lying there, with Dief licking at the blood on her skin. Fraser began his
slow trek across the ice to his rifle. He took one step, then two. The ice
broke apart a foot from him and he did a little hop-skip to avoid falling
in. 

 The gun was not far away. He advanced a little at almost a shuffle. He
slipped, swayed, and up righted himself, still coming up short. Fraser
knew the water wasn't very deep. It'd probably come up to his chest.
Still, the risk of hypothermia was greatly increased and he wasn't
entirely sure the Detective was going to let him out of the water as it
was. 

 Vecchio held the trigger on his own weapon with a snug fit. He began to
worry that Fraser would make it, seeing he had accomplished even crazier
feats during their prior association. He didn't bow his head. He didn't
close his eyes. But he did say a prayer. 

 **I can't let him do it, God. Please understand. I can't let him escape.
He can't reach that gun...** 

 Before Ray could complete his divine request, Fraser actually slipped and
fell. The ice could be heard breaking under him. The Detective knew that
sharp mind was calculating the different stages he was going to die. It
didn't really warm the Italian that much, but he was happy, in any case,
to see his enemy terrified. Vecchio went back to tending to Rennie's
wound, seeing that the bleeding had stopped for the time being. The
ex-Mountie tried to stand, looking over as the ice broke and his father's
rifle went under. He reached his feet and began to make it over to
Victoria. That's when the world fell away... Rennie looked up just in
time. 

 "DIEF!" Rennie screamed. "Get BACK here!" 

 The wolf obeyed, hopping and skipping over the dissolving watery ground
under his paws. He was just a yard away when the ice broke and his back
half fell into the water, his front paws scrabbling on the ice patch to
keep his head above water. 

 "Dief!" Ren screamed, jumped up and ran out onto the edge. He lay flat,
ignoring his wound and stretched his hands out as far as they would go.
Ray seen he was still short and knew hoisting one hundred pounds of wet
wolf was going to be hard enough. He took off his belt and hand handed it
to Ren. If nothing else, they could at least keep his head above water
while trying to save him. Dief stayed still and whined as Turnbull slid
the belt around his torso, his furry body shaking badly reflecting how
cold he was. 

 "I know, boy." Ren cooed. "We'll get you out, okay? Just trust me. Ray,
you're going to have to help." 

 "I know." The Detective was fully aware he was about to risk his life for
a deaf wolf, but he was more concerned about Dief and Rennie than anyone
else in the world right now. Ray looked up at Fraser before heading out on
the ice himself. 

 Victoria was still on the ice, but the water was rising. Fraser broke the
surface, coughing and sputtering, practically screaming. Even Ray winced
at the idea, the feeling of ice water soaking his clothes, to his very
bones. The dark-haired Canadian began to make his way over it to Metcalf.
He seized Victoria, who's own coat was drenched, and threw her over his
shoulder. After nearly falling and dropping her a couple of times, he
carefully continued his journey to the edge of the snow bank away from the
two men. 

 Ray stood at the edge and took hold of one Diefenbaker paws. Rennie took
hold of the other and they managed to pull their friend to safety. He
huddled up on the shore and Ren took off his outer coat and wrapped him up
in it. 

 "We must get him inside soon." He warned. 

 "What about them?" Ray nodded toward the other victims of the lake. 

 "We'll wait for a few and if they go under, we leave. If they get out, we
arrest them." Ren stated simply while looking after Diefenbaker. 

 Vecchio turned his attention to Fraser. The Canadian was completely
exhausted from his actions, the cold having seeped into his very soul. The
numbness was already robbing him of sensations in his feet and legs, the
toes biting in protest. The gloves he wore were useless, the fingers
becoming thick and unfeeling. Victoria had always been a waif of a woman,
but now felt heavy enough to make carrying her a chore. He couldn't stand
much longer and had to get them both out of the water before he collapsed.


 At that point, he didn't care if Vecchio turned him in, if he could just
get warm. He took a step...and slipped again. Total panic kicked in as he
went under, this time, taking Victoria with him. It was his scream Dief
recognized and was after him in a flash. Only this time, the wolf's
objective was not to keep the man from drowning. He bolted from under
Ren's coat, making his way to the shoreline. 

 "Dief! What are you doing?!" Turnbull snapped. 

 Both men stared as the white half-breed canine came to stand before the
water. Dief just stood there, intensely watching the couple in the lake,
his golden eyes sorrowful. Fraser did not notice he was so intent on
simply surviving. His head was down and he was down and he was breathing
in shallow pants. Dief seemed deep in thought, like he was re-living a
memory. He dipped his head down and flattened his ears. Fraser head jerked
up, their eyes meeting. Ray saw the Canadian mouth the wolf's name. It
ignited the hatred that had been building in the animal for half a year. 

 Diefenbaker went crazy, barking and growling and snapping like he was
going to kill anyone that even came close to him. Even Fraser backed off,
as cold as he was and still carrying Victoria. The awful realization came
to the ex-Mountie when Diefenbaker bared his fangs. That animal was not
going to let them out of the water! He was going to let them die out here.
Ray came to stand by the wolf, knowing he posed no threat. He regarded the
scene with the initial perceptions of closure. This was going to be the
end for them. 

 "Call...call him off, Ray." Fraser said, his voice revealing how close he
was to fainting. 

 Ray shook his head in mock disappointment. 

 "I don't think he's going to listen to me, Fraser." 

 "Please..." Fraser begged, "You know I can't run now. Just...let us out."


 Ray had a small attack of guilt and retreated a little himself. He began
to see such a forward show of maliciousness wasn't necessary. 

 "Come on, Dief, let them be." Ray murmured quietly. 

 At that point, Dief abruptly backed off, whining loudly, sounding almost
like he was crying. Ray looked at him rather stunned, not believing he'd
listened. Still, he an idea why Dief stopped. After all Fraser had done,
even Dief couldn't bring himself to force them to die like that. The sad
animal returned to the warmth of Turnbull's coat. 

 He watched as Fraser deposited Victoria in the snow, but did not offer a
helping hand. The Canadian made it out of the water, where he collapsed in
the fetal position next to Metcalf. Ray came over to look down on the
wounded man. So, this was it. This was the end of the last year and a half
of his life. He could not help but to feel an extreme sadness mixed with
the relief. 

 "Leave already..." Fraser said, panting heavily. "Just let us die out
here, like we should have the...first time. That's your plan, right?" 

 "Actually, no. But I'm glad you suggest it. It's a good idea." Ray said
glibly. "By the way, is she dead?" Ray asked. 

 A sheet of ice was already starting to cover Fraser and Victoria's
bodies, linking them together as before. Impossibly, the dark-haired man
laughed a little. 

 "She won't die. She never does. It's like she can't." he said with closed
eyes, his body starting to shake uncontrollably. "You...surprised me,
Detective. Not only do you find us, but also you're going to kill us by
leaving us out here. Much more cunning than any of our previous
adventures." Ray smiled sadly. It was just like the handsome sociopath to
talk as if they were truly old friends. Fraser huddled up to Victoria
before speaking again. There were no poetic words to keep him alive this
time. He'd freeze to death before long. The Italian liked that idea. 

 "Ray, don't do this..." Fraser implored. "You've won, you know that. Turn
us in, send us to jail, I don't care. But...not this, not like this. I
can't go through this again. I lost too much of myself the first time to
her. But you know that don't you?" Time passed and when Ray just stood
there, Fraser said, "Looks like you're more vicious than I thought,
Vecchio." 

 "I was taught cruelty by the best." The Italian quipped. 

 **My God, I sound like Fraser and Metcalf that night with Zuko.** Ray
thought, but he still didn't budge. 

 "You're more like me than I thought." Fraser said, more to himself than
anyone. 

 Tears leaked from Fraser's eyes, but he never actually cried. He pulled
the unconscious female form closer, resided to his fate. He never once
opened his eyes. Ray turned, collected Dief and Turnbull and climbed on
the snowmobile, complete with supplies and headed for the cabin. The
sadistic thrill left him giddy, excited, but he ignored it. He was not
like them, he reminded himself. With Turnbull steering, Vecchio was able
to throw a glance over his shoulder, the two bodies becoming smaller in
the snowstorm the further away they got. 

 Back at the cabin, he tended to Ren's injury, which wasn't as bad as he'd
originally thought. The bullet had passed straight through, hence the
damage being minimal. Ren was silent the entire time. Once the bandage was
in place, Ray looked at him and sighed. 

 "The RCMP won't be here for a while, right? Not until the storm let's
up?" Vecchio asked. Ren said nothing. He was highly disappointed in his
owns actions, allowing himself to get shot like that. He could barely look
at Ray. Turnbull wondered how the Detective could not be angry with him. 

 "It wasn't your fault." Ray stated, practically reading his thoughts.
Still no response. "Rennie, how were you supposed to know she was going to
shoot you? It just as easily could have been me." 

 "But it wasn't you." Turnbull flatly replied. "I became the victim, as
usual, while you had to do everything." 

 "I didn't do everything! *You* saved Dief from drowning! I was too
oblivious to notice." 

 "You were taking care of me." Ren said, pain dripping from his words. 

 "That's no excuse! Will you stop blaming yourself for getting wounded?
*Every night*, you use your training to keep us from freezing or starving
out here when it's too late to make it back to the outpost. You went along
with me when I staked out this place and had Dief check it out as well.
Hell, it was you who let me try my hunch I got from my dream with my
father that we look for a cabin as elaborate as this." 

 Vecchio couldn't believe his father, babbling once more about looking out
for number one, helped him realize if Fraser hated living in Chicago in
that hideous apartment, then it would make sense he wouldn't be living
like that now. He asked around at the outpost and the local villages where
such a luxurious place like this would be located. That's when he knew for
certain Constable Perry was the contact for Victoria and Fraser. The older
Mountie explained all about how he'd searched that region and there was
nothing to worry about. They found it on their second day of hunting, far
away from the RCMP local headquarters, complete with their enemies inside.


 "My point is, Turnbull, you could've balked and demanded to turn them in
then, but you didn't. You let me place the snow globe in the supplies when
Perry wasn't looking. You didn't have to let me do that, you know. Christ,
you are impossible sometimes!" 

 Ren waited before speaking, allowing his gaze to bore into Ray. "You do
know they're dying as we speak?" 

 "Yes." Ray said knowingly, putting on the final touches of the gauze.
"I'm just glad it's over." 

 "Me, too." 

 Ray thought he should look away, wondering how he kept winding up in
these situations with Turnbull without a shirt on. Just looking at him
brought the Italian back to the last time the Canadian was topless, when
he practically fucked him through the wall of the outpost. 

 "Ray?" 

 "Huh?" 

 "Why are you staring?" 

 "Nevermind, Rennie." 

 Rennie reached out and grabbed his chin, their gaze locking. Ray stopped
short. He began to blush heavily, fully aware Rennie was aroused as well.
The unspoken reason for the surge in passion was the fact they were
allowing their enemies to die. They came together simultaneously, the
passion in their groins spurred on by their own devious actions. It was
overwhelming, this dark lust, but Ray refused to back down. He wanted it,
as much as his eager partner did. He grabbed Rennie and melded their
bodies together, locked in a deep kiss. 

 "Oh, God...oh, God, Rennie...yes..." Ray panted as he stripped him of the
rest his attire. He let Turnbull aid in the removal of his clothes as he
continued to speak. "How did you know I wanted this?" 

 "After what they did to us, it is expected to want revenge, Ray." 

 "But this is wrong." 

 He said it. It was out there for both men to look at and judge the
situation. Their eyes met again briefly. 

 "Maybe." Ren confessed. "But definitely human." 

 Ren kissed him again and the Detective was lost. Before the Italian knew
what hit him, they were in bed, the scent of Fraser and Victoria filling
their lungs. Vecchio abandoned his conscience in that instant and reveled
in the slow death taking the bodies outside. He had to drag up those
tainted memories with Fraser, dust off the stained shared experiences he'd
buried and indulge in the fact he was he was the one laughing last. 

 And he did. He laughed as he thrust against Turnbull recklessly, with
Rennie pushing and grunting back, getting off as well on the agony of the
people who deceived them, who nearly ruined them...who brought them
together. The night of The Ultimate Betrayal came back, Frankie's touch
burning his skin, the fear and pain of his family, the nightmares that
plagued him and the absolute despair which drove him to take his own
life...*they* were finally paying for it! The light and hurt and ecstasy
blended, capturing the wanton spirit and subjected it to the ultimate
rapture. 

 Ray convulsed with tears in his eyes and detected a few seconds later the
semen from his partner mixing with his own, pooling in his navel. He held
onto Rennie tight, neither of them speaking, boneless and calm for the
first time in ages. They lay there awhile longer and soon the blond
Mountie looked into Ray's eyes, smiled and excused himself to the
bathroom. Vecchio relaxed, totally ignoring the totally hedonistic last
ten or so minutes. 

 "I got to hand it to you, son, I didn't think you could do it." 

 Ray's eyes nearly popped out. He hoped he was dreaming again. 

 "Thanks, Pop. I'm *so* glad you enjoyed it." 

 "Well, you're still sick for being a pillow-biter. But leaving that
asshole and his bitch to die a slow death! That was *great*! You're
finally starting to see life like it really is. Now, all you need to do is
unload the retard-" 

 "Don't call him that!" Ray snapped. 

 "Look, this is your opportunity to stop being a wimp!" his father
insisted. "You did good leaving them out there to die, now all you need to
do is make sure this stupid canuk knows he's just here until you find the
right girl." 

 "Then what, Pop? Slap her around so she knows whose boss?" 

 This conversation was continuously making Ray ill. He didn't like what
his father was suggesting, despite it being the truth. 

 "If that what is takes. I had to make sure your mama knew that house was
mine!" 

 "Well, it's mine now, so shove off, Pop!" 

 His father didn't retort with some cruel advice, which Ray found
shocking. An odd gleam twinkled in Carmine Vecchio's eyes. 

 "Yeah, it is." The elder Vecchio's voice was smug. "And you killed the
one who nearly made you lose it. Good work, son! I think I'm now even
proud enough to call you my own." 

 Ray practically leaped from the bed. Rennie came out of the bathroom and
look at him askance. Vecchio began frantically hunting for his clothes,
ignoring Rennie's inquiries as to what was wrong. 

 **It's been less than an hour. They should still be alive.** he thought
while putting on his pants. 

 "We...can't do this. I can't let them die, Rennie." He cast a glance over
his shoulder. "Rennie, please. You have to help me." 

 "*Why*, Ray? Tell me why we should save them!" 

 Ray faced him, breathing hard. "Because I...we're not like them. I can't
be...We just can't. You know that, Ren." 

 "What about what we just did?! You didn't seem too concerned then!" 

 "I know...please, Ren. I...we were wrong! I can't do this and I won't let
*you* do this. You're a Mountie...and I can't even remotely think about
causing you to act like..." 

 Ray stopped, aware just how hurtful his next words just might be. Still,
the full impact of the diabolical ramifications hit Turnbull like a ton of
bricks. Ray was crystal clear in being right about this. There was no way
in Hell he was ever going to act like Fraser, no matter how much he hated
what he'd done. 

 Ren nodded slowly in agreement and made a dash for his own clothes. It
was mere minutes later when they reached the frozen forms by the lake.
Turnbull, even though injured, dragged the sled over to the two near
death. He began giving instructions to carry them as gently as possible,
doing so as he moved Fraser. Ray didn't want to argue in the face of the
blizzard and did as Ren said. 

 He scooped up Victoria with little effort and placed her and beside
Fraser on the sled. A siren was going off in his head and butterflies were
eating away at his stomach. What if they were beyond help? He buried that
thought while joining Rennie on the back of the snowmobile. Once back at
the cabin, they brought them inside. 

 "Ray, do you feel a pulse? I do on Fraser." 

 "I'm...not sure." Ray said, his fingers touching the side of her throat.
"Yes, I think I do. Wait...a strong one at that!" 

 He shot Ren a look of utter disbelief. "How's that possible?" he asked. 

 Ren, however, wasn't listening. "Remove her clothing." he told the
Italian. "I'll start on Fraser. Don't jostle her too quickly. It could
cause an irregular heart rhythm." 

 Ray understood what Rennie was trying to do. He couldn't help feeling odd
as Hell, however, gently disrobing this woman. Vecchio could see, aside
from a few deep bites, Dief had succeeded really in only scaring the
living daylights out of Victoria. The fire was still going in the
fireplace and Turnbull threw some more wood on and stoked the flames. He
went to the bed, grabbed a blanket and wrapped Fraser's naked body,
placing him by the fire. Ray mirrored Rennie's actions, putting Metcalf
closer to the hearth, seeing she was smaller and more vulnerable. The two
men stood back to contemplate their work. 

 "I don't think we'll have to worry about it, but it's a good idea to keep
an eye on them and make sure they don't warm up too fast." 

 Silence followed Ren's words. 

 "You know, " Vecchio said distantly, "Fraser once offered to share body
heat with me to keep from freezing." 

 Ren did not take his eyes off the two in front of the fire while he
spoke. "Ray, I wouldn't do that now if my own life depended on it." The
Canadian's voice grew somber. "I...can't believe what we...did earlier." 

 Ray ducked his head. He, too, wasn't exactly proud of the heinous
lovemaking they'd engaged in. He wasn't going to feel bad for too long,
however. 

 "Rennie, they ain't exactly the Pope and Mother Teresa, you know.
Besides, afterwards you were wonderful." Ray said, facing his lover. 

 "What do you mean?" 

 "Oh, come on." Ray chided, while smiling. "How professional you were,
using all your skills like that to help save them. Even...agreeing that we
were wrong at the start. It was very *Mountie*-like. You...did good, Ren.
I'm proud of you." 

 Ren blushed and looked away. Hardly ever had anyone say they were proud
of him. And Ray truly meant every word he said. He'd managed to touch the
Detective, to have Ray appreciate him for who he genuinely was. The
Italian even forgave him for his lapse in his moral code in their fight
against Fraser and Victoria. It was all Turnbull ever wanted. The Italian
and he had connected. Most importantly, they'd bonded in another place
than just in bed. It was something Fraser would never have given him, or
any other lover to date. He fought backs tears as he spoke. 

 "Thank you, Ray. I'm just glad I was here to help." 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 Fraser woke again with a start. His hands were still cuffed behind him,
but he *was* dressed and warm. He smiled fully. It hadn't been a dream.
Ray had saved him. He could also tell Ray was watching him now. He turned
over awkwardly in bed, only to find Vecchio sitting with gun in hand.
Fraser blinked slowly, wishing he could rub his eyes. 

 "Thank you for saving me, Ray." He stated. 

 Vecchio just shook his head. "It never stops with you, does it?" 

 "How do you mean?" 

 "Just shut up. The storm is over and the Mountie's are on their way." 

 The other man nodded slowly, then decided to press his luck. 

 "Um...Victoria?" 

 "She's in the next room." 

 "Is she okay?" 

 Ray leaned in, his voice cool and calm. 

 "Why don't you tell me?" 

 Ben eyed him for a minute, then slumped his shoulders. 

 "May...may I have some water?" 

 Ray jumped up, anger blazing. He caught the look of apprehension in
Fraser and decided once again against killing him. Ray got up and turned
to fill a glass from a nearby pitcher. Fraser could not believe the
Detective was so stupid as to turn his back like that, even if he did
still have the gun. It made no difference, though. He was at the end of
his escape from this man he'd destroyed completely. 

 On the off chance he could break the cuffs, he'd have to take on Vecchio
and Turnbull in full revenge mode, leaving without his lifemate. No, it
was better to wait for the authorities to mess up in his transportation to
jail to make his escape. It was how he got Victoria out of confinement to
begin with. During a prison transfer, he was able to make off with not
only her, but also his identity still a secret. The RCMP could be so very
slow about such things... He tentative made his way to the edge of the bed
and just sat there, his feet now on the floor. 

 Ray held the glass to his lips, those eyes, cold but striking, looking up
at him as Fraser gulped down the liquid like it was golden, the cobalt
eyes fluttering shut in response. Vecchio allowed him to drink it all,
then placed the glass nearby. He reseated himself and menacingly gazed at
Fraser. 

 "For what it's worth," Fraser began, "I didn't pretend the entire time." 

 Ray raised the gun. "Buddy, you are less than one step away from getting
your kneecaps blown off. Understand?" 

 "Yes, I do. But I don't think you will." 

 Ray looked like he would faint. "Excuse me?!" 

 "Because even you know...at times I believed it myself. Believed that I
was...him." 

 Fraser swallowed hard and Ray softened a bit. The Canadian was right. It
was a fact Ray didn't like believing and had refused to look at completely
ever since Garette told him said information. The truth was there was the
smallest part inside Fraser that wasn't faking it, meaning the most
painful reality of all - "Benny" did exist. 

 "It isn't what you really are and we both know that, Fraser." Vecchio
growled. 

 "True enough." Fraser responded. "But, I still-" 

 Ray could not take this. He couldn't handle sitting here and listen to
this man try to worm his way out of what he'd done. 

 "SHUT UP!! Just shut up!" Ray yelled. "It made no difference to you that
night with Zuko or when you first came to Chicago or when you sold your
soul to that bitch! *I* never mattered to you!" 

 Fraser became scared, believing he'd pushed Ray too far. His mind was
working quickly, thinking of anything that might quell the Detective's
anger. 

 "I said your name..." he hesitantly offered. At Vecchio's confused
reaction, he finished with, "When I was with Turnbull. I did. I let it
slip out, then I realized the boy was serving me and he'd never betray me
as long as I gave him what he-" 

 A butt of the gun connected with his jaw and he felt a pop, tasting iron
afterward. 

 "I said, shut UP!" the Italian screamed. It upset Ray greatly to hear
this garbage from his ex-partner. He was crumbling after so long of
wanting to confront him. 

 "It's true." Fraser whispered. "Ask him." 

 The innocent intonation reflected the simple truth: why hadn't Turnbull
told him this? What did he think he was hiding? Fraser could see those
questions playing across the Detective's face. Ray was being torn to
shreds inside. This had been a bad idea. The worse part was knowing Fraser
wasn't *completely* responsible for his actions. He was like a heroin
addict who simply refused to stop using, doing whatever it took to
maintain that insatiable high and yet uselessly regretting what he had to
do to get there. It shattered Ray's soul to see someone he once cared
about so deeply, loved so much, to be such a puppet to that black-hearted
bitch. 

 Like a con artist who starts a church with the sole motivation of profit
in mind eventually winding up truly believing what he preaches from the
pulpit, was *exactly* what became of Fraser. And like the fact he felt odd
at arranging for his own father's death, had he allowed himself only the
most basic indulgence while in Chicago and with the mystical assistance of
his dark lady, he was able to live the dream he was Benton Fraser,
R.C.M.P., *convinced* he was Ray's friend. When it got to be too much and
he could no longer deny his dark side, he turned to Turnbull for comfort. 

 It was how he kept it from Dief and how he hid it from Garette. It was a
sort of willing brainwashing able to stand up to any scrutiny, including a
sentient wolf and a homeless psychic. How he so grandly perpetuated the
falsehood to everyone else. It was because he lied so utterly and
thoroughly to himself. Metcalf had shed her skin and Fraser had been
wrapped up so tightly in the facade she cast, he became the man he
portrayed. 

 It vacuumed the life-essence right out of him when he and Metcalf parted
for his stint in the Windy City. But that lonely, coldly-calculating,
stunningly brilliant mind found a way to exist without the woman who
sustained him by playing the part to perfection, to where it seeped into
his own thought processes, mannerisms and every molecule of his spirit.
Until his sinful nature demanded to be slaked, hence his taking Rennie as
a slave. 

 None of it mattered, of course. In the end, Fraser was Victoria's
property. He more than willingly decimated Ray and left him in the arms of
a rapist to be with her, to delight in the agony he'd caused. Still, the
slightest knowledge that his friend did exist on some level was killing
Vecchio on the spot. That Fraser wasn't rotten to the core had him shaking
badly. It took a good sixty seconds to get himself under control, to see
his plan to the end. 

 "What, Fraser?" he said, his voice cracking. "You think I'm gonna' let
you go or something?" 

 "Of course not." The dark-haired man countered. "I know you'd never do
that. I just... wanted you to know...that if I had...a choice..." 

 Ray looked up to see the ex-Mountie in tears. He stared dumbfounded. He'd
never seen Fraser so vulnerable, so helpless. And that's when he snapped. 

 "Oh, God, Benny, don't do this!" he barked, standing and turning away. 

 Fraser's eyes grew to this size of saucers. 

 "W-what?" he breathed, stunned beyond belief. 

 He struggled to his feet, more flabbergasted than anyone on the planet.
He felt woozy it was so overwhelming. 

 "What...did you call me, Ray?" he gently inquired. 

 "Stop it..." Ray pleaded, but not loud. It was more of a whisper. 

 Benny slowly came closer, advancing with all the nervousness of a fawn
leaning to walk. He stopped a bare inch from the Detective. Ray could feel
the heat coming off Fraser's body. 

 "*What* did you call me, Ray?" 

 Tears flooded the Italian's eyes and he really didn't care what happened
in the next few minutes because it was all coming to an end and he knew
this would be this last time he would be able to do any of this. 

 "Benny...why?" he choked out. "*Why* did you do that...to me?" He said,
the quiet tone betraying the rage underneath. 

 "I had no choice, Ray. I admit I was wrong. I know I hurt you." 

 "*Hurt* me?!" Ray seethed. "You ruined my life and threw me to the dogs,
Fraser." 

 "It was her will...and yes I eagerly followed, but...I did want to be
with you. You *know* that." 

 He did know it. Ray nearly collapsed under the barrage of emotions he was
feeling. Vecchio couldn't take much more of this. It was a good he saw
this confrontation coming and prepared for it. He couldn't believe the
things he was considering now that he was in the man's presence. But
that's the way it always had been with Fraser, hadn't it? Ray was his
protector, his guardian angel, the one always trying to save him, help him
and, eventually, the only one who truly loved him. 

 "Ray...please-" 

 Suddenly, Ray was spinning, capturing his mouth with his own, ravishing
the larger man with long suppressed passion. Fraser responded in full,
releasing the portion of his being that was never allowed to be seen. The
part that would've loved Ray Vecchio if things had been different, if
Benny's soul had never been broken into and a dark entity hadn't slithered
inside. The reality of the love Fraser lost hit him hard and the fact he
knew he'd forget it all as soon as he was with her again completed the
devastation. 

 "Oh, God, Ray..." he breathed into the neck of the Italian, tears
streaming down his face. He wouldn't stop kissing him for he knew it was
his only hope. Finally, Ray pulled away and rested their foreheads
together. Fraser gulped once, twice and three times before he could speak.
Luminous green eyes, however, refused to meet his. 

 "Come...come with me...please." Fraser sincerely begged. He was aware
this was pointless, but he thought he'd at least try. 

 Ray reacted only by holding him tighter, his arms around the bulk of
Fraser's restrained hands. An endless amount of time passed before Vecchio
spoke. His eyes bore into Fraser with an intense hunger, making the
Canadian's knees go weak. Had he actually reached him? 

 "Well...w-what...what about Victoria?" Ray wanted to know. 

 Fraser sighed in exasperation. "She'll find me, Ray! She always does.
But, at least we could be together for a while...come on, we can do this!"


 He accentuated his point with those perfect lips doing a dance up and
down Ray's long neck. Ray gasped and clung on tight, returning those
steamy kisses wherever he could reach. He couldn't lie to himself anymore,
Vecchio realized. It was now or never. He looked deep into Benny's
eyes...and put the gun away in his shoulder holster. 

 "I love you, Benny. I always will." He confessed to the man who came
closest to the one he cherished. 

 Benny sighed heavily, a great warmth spreading through him. For the first
time in six months, he felt like he was back in Chicago, living a full
life with friends and a purpose. It wouldn't be for long, but he'd love
Ray Vecchio the best he could. Until his mistress came to collect him
again. Suddenly, Fraser swayed, leaning on Vecchio. He blinked, the image
of the Detective going blurry. 

 "What's...happening?" he said, his words slurred. 

 He looked up at the Italian. The dark-haired man had probably never seen
the light die in anyone's eyes faster than the American before him at this
moment. Everything went fuzzy and stayed that way. 

 "W-what the Hell...?" he stammered. A sinking feeling, like he was
falling, consumed him. A ringing smack to his cheek brought him partially
back to awareness. 

 "Hey! HEY! Wake up!" he could hear as he was being slapped hard again. He
concentrated all his efforts on keeping his eyes open and vision normal.
The distinct image of the Detective swam before him. Chills crept up his
spine at the fierce coldness of Vecchio's words. 

 "Did you *really* think I would fall for that, Fraser?" 

 "What? I...but you..." 

 "Yeah, I kissed you. Big deal! You think that means anything to me now?!
WELL?! Answer *me*!!" 

 "But...you said..." 

 There was the most softest, darkest laugh. 

 "I said nothing but the truth, Fraser." He could hear the glowing smile
that accompanied Ray's hissed words as he snarled them in his face. "And
what's getting me off right now is the fact I know you did *too*!" 

 Shock gripped Fraser's stomach in a tight lock. He stumbled to get away
from the cop, more frightened, more aware than he'd been in a very long
time. He backed into the bed, flopping down, his senses reeling. 

 "You...bastard...poisoned me...*how*?!" 

 "Well, you know what they say, *Benny,* if you're not feelin' too hot, it
might be something in the water around here." 

 "Oh, God...no, please, no..." Fraser cringed at the news, realizing that
was why Ray had turned him back so irresponsibly like that when he got the
water in the first place. 

 "You don't think I checked up on you and your little bitch, Fraser?!" Ray
retorted. "Don't you think I know how you got her out in the first place?!
I wasn't about to have a repeat escape attempt!" 

 "You...betrayed...me!" Fraser cried out. "You...didn't have...to...set me
up...like this!" he argued through a haze of tranquilizers pumping through
his system, the remains of 'Benny's' conscience still lingering, absorbing
the pain. It all went black for a moment and when he awoke, he couldn't
open his eyes. He stayed that way for the longest time, slipping in and
out of consciousness. He wasn't even sure how much time had passed when
the RCMP came in the room and dragged him to his feet and hauled him away.


 "RAY!" He screamed, as he was being taken out. "WHY!? You didn't have to
do this! I...thought you..." 

 Ray couldn't help feel it was a mirrored event between Victoria and
Fraser eleven years ago. The ex-Mountie didn't even pause to look
Turnbull's way when he passed him. The blond man came to stand behind the
Detective, his arm loosely draped around his shoulders, his head resting
on Ray's shoulder. 

 "Did you want to say anything to him before he's gone?" Vecchio asked his
partner. 

 Ren stared straight ahead, watching Fraser's nearly unconscious form
being removed from the scene. They both did. Victoria had never regained
consciousness and was being taken to the hospital. To have such unearthly
power, Vecchio noted, Metcalf was surprisingly susceptible to the
elements. It had been the only way he was able to pull off his little
psychological game with Fraser, knowing she wasn't awake enough to tug his
strings into obeying. 

 Vecchio had dug in deep into Fraser's psyche and yanked out the minute
portion known as his friend for the explicit purpose of putting "Benny"
through Hell. It was excruciating, but he thoroughly enjoyed the outcome.
Things had turned a complete circle on Fraser, a total reversal of events,
who was the one this time being dragged off feeling betrayed. The Italian
would have to send Carver a thank you note for the how-to instructions on
suck a task. 

 "No. I really didn't mean anything to him. Nothing I say would have any
affect on him." Said Turnbull. 

 The mood around them grew a tad sadder at the Mountie's words. 

 "I'm sorry, Ren." 

 "I'm not." 

 Ray could tell he was smiling. He turned to look at his lover. 

 "And why is that?" Vecchio asked, unsure he really wanted to know the
answer. 

 "Because I love you." Ren said. 

 Ray smiled broadly. He'd waited for this. Waited until the time was right
to say it to Ren. He refused when he'd felt it after they'd made love, he
backed down from it when Ren helped to save Victoria and Fraser and he
even denied it when Rennie got shot. It thrilled him to no end to hear it
first. From the day the blue-eyed blond stepped into his life with an
armful of files and an obsession for justice, he saved and restored the
life of the Italian. Ray Vecchio got his Mountie. It was just the last
person in the world he would have guessed it to be. 

 "I love you, too, Turnbull. I love you, too." 

 The End. - feedback?