Goodbye	Author's disclaimer: Although the story is mine, it is a
work of fiction based on the character of Due South. All Characters
portrayed here belong to Alliance. Please do not print/copy/download or
send any part of this story to anyone else, other than for your personal
enjoyment. Thank you. 

Minor spoliers for COTW. Rated PG-13 for some language. Death
Story/Angst/Drama 
  

By:Amethyst  

SAY GOOD NIGHT 

          "Stanley Raymond Kowalski." The judge, a foreboding older man
with graying hair and a no nonsense stare announced. "You are here by
sentenced to death by lethal injection to be carried out immediately." 
          Cries of distress raised simultaneously throughout the courtroom
mixed with shouts of joy as an officer secured Ray's wrists with
handcuffs. Francesca Vecchio was sobbing openly, Mrs. Kowalski had to be
restrained from launching herself at her son hysterically and Constable
Benton Fraser met Ray's frightened gaze from his place behind Ray's
lawyer. 
         "Fraser!" he screamed as they started to pull him out of the
courtroom and he struggled for one final look at the people he loved. 
         "Ray!" The Mountie returned trying to fight his way past the
reporters, lawyers and other security separating them, He couldn't believe
the judge had convicted his best friend and condemned him to death on such
circumstantial evidence with no hope for an appeal. 
         "Fraasseer!" Ray called out again as they ushered him toward the
side door that would take him back to the prison. "Take care of my folks!"

         "I promise, Ray." Fraser assured his voice breaking as he watched
his friend disappear through the door. "I promise." 
         Less than two hours later, Fraser stared through the witness
window, with the twelve jurors and Lieutenant Welsh as Ray was strapped to
the examination table below. The detective glanced up and met Fraser's
gaze with a fearful and haunted look, clinging to the deep blue eyes
stared back. Ray mouthed something and Fraser had to blink several times
to dispel the rush of tears that threatened to flood his eyes. He placed a
shaking hand wishing he could reach his friend below, knowing it would be
the last time he would ever speak to his partner. 
         "I love you too, Ray." He whispered hoarsely and he knew Ray had
understood the words his lips had formed. The blonde's gaze continued to
hold on to Fraser's he wanted the last face he saw to be of his best
friend before he...He felt a sharp prick at his arm and he squeezed his
eyes shut as the toxic liquid started to run through his veins. Dear God!
He didn't mean to hurt her. He didn't want to die, please don't let him
die...FRASER! 

         "No!" Ray bolted up in his bed in a state of panic and it was a
few terrifying moments before he realized that he had been dreaming again.
His T-shirt and boxers were soaked with sweat; most of his sheets and
coverings were twisted around him or hanging almost to the floor. He
shakily checked his arms for puncture wounds then sighed in relief when he
found none. 
         He threw the covers back and glanced at his clock, just a few
minutes after one, he'd only been asleep for a couple of hours. He made
his way to the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face, then
stared at his refection in the mirror. He looked like crap, there were
heavy dark circles under his eyes, his face was pale and drawn and he knew
he would get no further sleep tonight without help. He hadn't been able to
sleep hardly at all lately, his headaches and the accompanying nausea made
it difficult for him to get through the night. 
         He opened his medicine cabinet and pulled out the bottle of
sleeping pills that he had purchased about a week before. He hated taking
them, he suspected he was becoming addicted to them, but between the
nightmares and the over exhaustion of his physical condition it was
impossible to sleep with out the little yellow pills. He couldn't go to
work looking and feeling the way he did, yet the pills made him groggy
when he finally did wake up and it took him until mid after noon before he
could reserve any real energy. However, they did allow him to sleep
without dreaming and right now he needed that more than he needed energy. 
        He poured a couple out into his palm and swallowed them with some
water from the tap, then he placed the bottle back in the cabinet and
returned to his bed. He changed out of his sweaty clothes, arranged the
covers a little better around the mattress and then climbed inside. 
      He couldn't imagine why the premise of his nightmares had taken such
a foreboding turn, he hadn't had such night terrors since Beth Botrell was
almost executed and his conscience had forbidden him to get through the
night without dreaming about it.  These new nightmares were twice as
volatile, twice as real and Ray was beginning to think he was loosing his
mind. Finally the pills began to take effect and he felt his eyelids
droop. Peace at last his mind sighed. 

          Ray pulled off his shoulder holster and dropped it on the
counter, having just started toward the fridge when another terrible wave
of nausea hit him. He barely made it to the bathroom in time before he was
forced to empty the contents of his stomach for the third time that day.
Not that there was much left to throw up, but apparently the demon virus
had found something because he was racked with the painful retching
moments later. 
      Finally he managed to rise shakily to his feet and lean weakly
against the sink to splash more water on his flushed face. He rinsed his
mouth and tried not to stare at the awful sight of his haggard reflection.
God he felt like utter crap! He had hoped it was just the flu or some kind
of stomach virus, but after three weeks of fighting the symptoms it only
seemed to be getting worse instead of better. He knew it was time to go
and see a doctor about it but his fear of hospitals overrode his good
sense, as it often did concerning his health. 
      He grinned, he was starting to sound like Fraser now, Heaven help
him! He'd been avoiding going out with Fraser after work, because he was
always exhausted from trying to hide his condition from the astute Mountie
all day long. He felt bad for avoiding his partner, but he usually just
felt like laying down somewhere, whether it was the bed, sofa, or floor if
he could get no further, and just rest. Rarely did he ever sleep; it was
just the need to have his body stop moving and the room to stop spinning.
If he turned off the lights and put on a soothing CD, like Ella Fitzgerald
or Sarah McLachlan really low so you could barely hear it, his headaches
started to fade. 
        He tiredly made his way back toward the living room and moved
toward the desk by the windows. He searched through a left-hand drawer,
where he usually tossed extra pens, notepapers, paperclips and assorted
business cards he received on the job from time to time. He remembered a
lady doctor that had come in to report a gunshot victim she had treated
earlier that day, a few weeks back. Ray had found her to be nice enough,
very pretty and not to professional that she couldn't laugh at his lame
jokes. However there had been a large diamond on her left hand that kept
Ray from asking her out as he was prone to do with most women he met,
there were some lines that he would not cross and this woman was obviously
taken. 
      He finally found the card she had given him, in case he had any
further questions to ask her and quickly dialed the number to her office.
He asked to speak to Dr. Brook, giving his name and where he worked for
reference, then pulled out the desk chair to settle into before his
weakness got the better of him and he fell on the floor. 
      "Hello, this is Dr. Brook." A soft feminine voice greeted moments
later. "How may I help you Detective Vecchio?" 
      "Um...hi ya Doc." Ray returned uneasily. "I...er...I don't know if
you remember me or not but..." 
      "Of course I remember you, detective." She assured warmly. "I came
to see you about a month ago wasn't it? Did you have some questions about
the case?" 
      "Ah...yah." Ray confirmed. "Um...I mean, no, not...no questions
about the case. I was wonderin'...well, I've been havin' some medical
problems lately and I was... It's probably just the flu but...it's been
hittin' me pretty hard and..um...well wonderin' if..." 
      "Will tomorrow morning be good for you, Detective?" she inquired
gently, letting him off the hook and he smiled relieved. 
      "Yah, dat would be great, greatness, really." He agreed. "Thanks.
I'm not...um...real good with hospitals and stuff." 
      "Perfectly all right, Detective." She allowed. "I will see you
tomorrow around...oh....say nine O'clock good?" 
      "Dat's...sure, dat's fine, really. Thanks Doc." Each party rung off
and Ray for some reason felt a little better. He was a little anxious
about going but Dr. Brook seemed nice enough that she would probably get
him to calm down for the visit. 
      He rose and moved across the room to hit the play on his stereo,
sighing as the soothing sounds of Louis Armstrong floated lightly around
him. It was still daylight out, so Ray pulled his blinds and darkened the
room in a soft shadow. He lay back on his sofa and tried to think of
anything but the pain and discomfort he was feeling. Absently he wished
Stella was here with him, but the thought turned to regret and finally
dissipated as they were prone to do. His ex-wife was no longer a comfort
to him, but he missed her still. 
      He was startled when he heard a knock at his door and inanely he
wondered if it might be the woman that he treasured. However when he
slowly sat up and moved to greet his visitor he was only mildly
disappointed to find a dark haired, blue-eyed Mountie smiling at him,
instead of the love of his life.  Fraser had changed into dark jeans and a
gray and red over shirt with starched collar. He wore his brown bomber
jacket and of course the infamous Stetson was perched on his head. He held
up a bag that offered the enticing aroma of Chinese food as Diefenbaker
pranced inside and hopped up on the sofa Ray had just vacated. 
      "Hello Ray." Fraser greeted kindly then cast the wolf a scolding
look. "Diefenbaker! Ray has not even invited us in yet." Ray smiled a
little and moved aside for his friend to enter the apartment. 
      "S'kay Frase." He assured as the Mountie stepped inside and Ray
closed the door. "Yer both welcome here any time, me casa is yer casa." 
      "Thank you kindly, Ray." Fraser returned politely, not bothering to
correct his friend's appalling language skills. "I thought you might be
hungry. I know I have been busy with the consulate lately and we have had
not had much time together outside of work, I do hope we are not intruding
but we brought Chinese, your favorite dishes." 
      "Sure, Fraser." Ray agreed reluctantly, his stomach revolting at the
mere mention of food at this point. "Knock yerself out." 
      Fraser set the bag on the counter and frowned at his friend. He had
noticed Ray's subtle decline in health and was hoping that the detective
would either seek medical advice or at least confide in Fraser the
problem. Ray thought he was hiding his condition but the Mountie had been
strictly aware of the number of times Ray had spent in the precinct
bathroom vomiting, or the suddenly dull dilation of those steal gray eyes
when the detective was experiencing a terrible headache. Fraser had
pretended to be busy on consulate business as often as he could to keep
Ray from feeling guilty of not wanting or being up to his company, but the
time had come for the truth to be said and Fraser meant to coerce Ray to
see a doctor. 
      "Are you feeling up to eating, Ray?" he asked as he started to
unload the bag and watched his friend wander back to the sofa. Fraser
watched Ray shoo the wolf down, lay back, and then allow Diefenbaker back
up to lay nestled against him. Fraser walked over and stared down at the
animal resting his forepaws and head on the detective's chest, while Ray
casually scratched his ears. "You spoil him, Ray." 
      "Got no one else to spoil, Frase." Ray shrugged sadly and Fraser
watched Diefenbaker inch a little closer to the object of his affection
defiantly. 
      The Mountie crouched down next to his friend, his eyes missing
nothing as he noted the pallor and gauntness in Ray's face. The blond had
lost weight, something he couldn't afford to do and he could see from the
pain registered in the pale blue eyes that another headache had hit. He
couldn't resist reaching a hand up and placing it against Ray's forehead,
which was entirely too warm for Fraser's liking. 
      "You've got a fever, Ray." He stated quietly as Ray's eyes drifted
shut. 
      "Just got the flu Frase." He dismissed tiredly. "Don't mother me." 
      "You've had the flu," Fraser reminded pointedly. "For almost a month
now, Ray." Ray's eyes flickered open and he stared with guilty surprise at
his partner, then closed his eyes again, making no comment, but now he
understood that Fraser hadn't been fooled for a moment. "Don't you think
it is time to go and see a doctor, Ray?" Ray placed his arm over his eyes.

      "I'm just tired, Fraser." He defended obstinately. "I'm sure I'll be
fine in another day or so." 
      "Ray." No answer. "Ray? Ray? Ray!" Ray's arm lowered and he opened
his eyes to glare at the Mountie. 
      "Shouting is not helping da problem, Fraser." He informed coolly and
Fraser didn't bother to point out that he had barely raised his voice. No
doubt the detective's headache was amplifying the sound around him. 
      "What other symptoms have you been experiencing, Ray." Fraser
demanded. 
      "Flue like symptoms, Benton Buddy." Ray dismissed. 
      "Ray," Fraser warned. "Flu-like symptoms account for over sixty five
of all known medical ailments, it may be more serious than a common virus.
Now what have you been experiencing, and don't lie to me Ray I can see
right through you when you lie." 
      Ray sniffed and turned his head away in aggravation. That was the
problem, the Mountie could read him like a book and it astounded Ray how
well Fraser knew him. No one seemed to have gotten inside his head the way
Fraser had over the few months they had worked together, not even Stella
knew him this well. He smiled slightly, of course Stella knew him in other
ways, that Fraser would never know him, at least not if Ray had anything
to say about it. 
      "I'll go have a check up tomorrow, okay?" he offered, wishing the
Mountie would shut up. 
      "So you are admitting you are ill, then?" Fraser pressed and Ray
angrily sat up, ignoring the throbbing in his head, as Fraser rose swiftly
to his feet to compensate for his partner's sudden movement. 
      "Yeah, I'm sick." He defied. "So what? Everybody gets sick Fraser,
it's part of life." 
      "Why didn't you tell me you were not feeling well, Ray." Fraser
continued obviously hurt by his friend's intentional deception. "I could
have helped I could have..." 
      "What, Fraser?" Ray demanded bolting to his feet with the same
swiftness as his rising temper. "Wiped my runny nose, tucked me into bed,
fed me hot soup and aspirin?" 
      "Well...yes I would have been happy to..." 
      "I am not a kid damnit!" Ray snapped. "I can take care of myself
and..." His words were cut off as a piercing, agonizing pain shot through
his cranium and caused his knees to buckle in protest as the accompanying
nausea made his stomach drop warningly. "Christ!" 
          Fraser caught him and settled him back on the sofa, gently
placing Ray's head between his knees to push back the dizziness he was no
doubt experiencing. Fraser had watched the detective's pupils become
almost nonexistent when the pain had hit and it had frightened him
terribly. He could only imagine the agony Ray was in. 
      "Are you going to be sick, Ray?' he inquired softly, allowing his
partner to keep hold of his hands for support. Ray slowly shook his head;
unable to speak, his grip tightening on Fraser's at what the effort at had
caused him. "What can I do, Ray? Do you need some water, aspirin?" he
smiled slightly when Ray had managed to raise his gaze to meet Fraser's.
"Your mother perhaps?" 
      "Who...who needs her when I got you, buddy?" he managed weakly.
"S..sorry Frase. Don't mean ta get on ya..." 
      "Perfectly alright, Ray." Fraser assured quickly. "Some water
perhaps?" 
      "Please." Ray agreed and Fraser rose and moved to the kitchen to
fetch it and a couple of aspirin from the bottle on the counter. He helped
Ray swallow both, then shooed Diefenbaker off the sofa and helped the
detective lay back against the cushions. 
      "Ray?" he began quietly as he watched the detective's eyes drift
shut. 
      "Hmm?" 
      "Please go to a doctor tomorrow." 
      "I will." Ray promised defeated. "I promise, already made the
appointment and everything." 
      "May I accompany you, then?" Fraser insisted and Ray opened his eyes
again. 
      "Fraser, I'm a big boy." He reminded. "Yer not my Mum or my wife,"
he smirked. "Not dat Stella ever accompanied me anywhere that wasn't
important to her career, but ya know what I mean. Ya don't gotta play
nursemaid to me." 
      "I am aware that I am neither of those, Ray." Fraser assured. "But I
am your partner and your friend." He frowned. "I worry about you, Ray."
Ray met the Mounties's gaze and offered him a crooked smile, despite the
gratitude that was shining in his eyes. Fraser smiled, seeing that such
simple words had touched the detective profoundly, as they always seemed
to whenever Fraser spoke of their friendship. It was as though Ray could
not believe someone would truly care for him as much as Fraser claimed to.

      "Dat hard to say, Fraser?" Ray finally smirked and Fraser's own
smile widened. 
      "Not in the least Ray." He replied without hesitation as both men
continued to convey with their eyes what they found difficult to admit
aloud. 
      Diefenbaker finally interrupted their mutual silence with a whining
complaint for more affection, as he forced his way between Ray and Fraser.
Ray laughed and scratched the wolf's ears affectionately as Fraser forced
his twitching lips to pull down into a frown as he offered them both a
fondly disapproving glare. 
      "Ray?" he finally asked. 
      "Yeah?" 
      "May I accompany you to the doctor tomorrow?" Fraser reminded and
Ray sighed. 
      "Like I could keep you away." he replied wearily. "Ya'd just follow
me. Okay, you can come." 
      "Thank you kindly, Ray." 
  
  

     Ray slid the GTO into its familiar spot outside his apartment
building and switched off the engine. For a long moment he just sat there
in the darkness and stared out his windshield, not really seeing anything.
He was feeling better the past few days, despite the number of tests Dr.
Brook had requested he participate in since their first appointment. Now
it was just a matter of waiting for the results, which unfortunately would
not be for the next day or two. Being the impatient sort of man that Ray
was, he tried to involve himself in as much work and other activities as
he could to keep from thinking about it. 
     Fraser had accompanied him to the initial office consultation, but
Ray had not told him of his returning visits for tests. Luckily, he seemed
to immediately trust Sehra Brook, though he still had moments of panic at
the hospitals he had to frequent for the actual testing but he thought he
did rather well. More then once however he considered calling Fraser to
come with him, especially once he was there, but he swallowed his fear and
resisted, not wanting to worry the Mountie more. 
     He sighed reached into the passenger seat where his partner usually
sat to grab some files he had taken home to look through, then climbed out
of the car and entered his apartment building. He climbed the stairs to
his floor, he didn't much care for elevators, they made him feel too boxed
in, though he could take them as needed without too much hassle, and
stopped just outside the stairwell exit. He noticed his landlady was
knocking on his apartment door as he approached. 
     "There you are!" she remarked as she turned toward him, wringing her
hands anxiously. 
     "What can I do for you Mrs. Pierce?" he inquired, surprised that she
was asking him help on anything, she usually respected his loner status,
as long as he paid his rent. Fraser once said she was very protective of
the detective's privacy. 
     "My niece is visiting with me for a few weeks and there's been...well
a sort of accident and..." 
     "Is she hurt?" Ray asked automatically concerned. "Have you called
for an ambulance?" 
     "Oh, no no." she denied quickly. "She just, well she tripped and hurt
her foot and she's much taller than I am and I can't lift her myself to
get her to our apartment." 
     "Where is she?" Ray asked. 
     "In the laundry room, she was helping me you see and..." Ray was
moving past her to open his door, where he quickly deposited the files on
the counter closest, before closing and locking his apartment again. 
     "Show me." He instructed and she clapped her hands to her chest
gratefully as they headed down the stairs. She was gushing about having to
bother him. 
     "I hate to bother you I know how you like your privacy but I just
didn't know who else to ask and you're so young and strong I thought you
would be the best option." 
     "No problem." Ray assured as they entered the laundry room on the
lowest level of the complex. 
     "Storm hates hospitals and I think she may have just twisted it but I
can't tell for sure and I was afraid to let her walk on it." 
      Mrs. Pierce continued to babble as Ray caught sight of the pretty
brunette in denim jeans and a Bulls T-shirt perched sheepishly on one of
the dryers. She had a distinctive Native look about her, with smooth dark
skin, high forehead and cheekbones, a long slender nose and dark
voluminous eyes. She sort of reminded Ray of Cher, before the singer had
all the surgery, and she was at least as tall as he, perhaps five eight or
nine if not taller, Ray could tell that by the long length of her legs.
Her raven colored hair fell in a long braid almost to her waist. 
     "Honey this is detective Vecchio and he's going to help you
upstairs." Mrs. Pierce continued. 
     "Hiya." Storm greeted him sheepishly as Ray knelt before her to
examine her ankle. He wasn't a doctor, but he'd had enough broken and
sprained bones to know when it was something that required a trip to the
hospital. Her slender feet were bare, surprisingly small for her size, and
he glanced at her for permission before carefully cradling her foot and
pushing her pant leg up so he could view her ankle, which was already
starting to swell. He touched it slightly to check for a break and she
winced. 
     "Looks like a bad sprain." he commented before slowly releasing her
foot so he wouldn't jar it, then straightening to his full height. "Wrap
yer arms around my neck." 
    Storm did so, blushing bright red in embarrassment, which only made
her skin look darker and more enticing, wincing when something hard dug
into her ribs as he started to pull her into his arms. Ray grinned
sheepishly and stepped back for a minute, removing the gun that he had
sheathed under his jacket, sliding out the clip and pocketing it, he then
handing the weapon to Mrs. Pierce. 
     "Can you carry that fer me?" he requested once it was empty and the
older woman took it without batting an eyelash. 
     "Of course." she assured as Ray pulled Storm into his arms for a
second time. 
     "Okay?" he asked her and she nodded, trying not to think how
absolutely wonderful he smelled or how good it felt being carried against
him as the three headed back up the two floors to the Landlady's
apartment. Mrs. Pierce hurried ahead and opened her door so Ray could
enter. He asked if there was a specific place the older lady preferred her
niece and the sofa was suggested, so that was where Ray gently deposited
her. 
     "Thanks." She murmured as her aunt handed Ray back his gun then
carefully propped Storm's swollen ankle up on a pillow. She watched the
easy way the detective reloaded the weapon and placed it back in the
holster under his jacket. 
     "Put some ice on it." He suggested calmly. "If da swelling gets worse
in da next day or so, ya probably should go have it x-rayed." 
     "Thank you so much, detective." Mrs. Pierce offered kindly, noticing
the way her niece was watching the blond. "How is your nice Constable
doing?" 
     "He's in Canada fer a few days." Ray informed her as he moved back
toward the door. "Some kinda convention wit his superior." 
     "Won't you stay for supper?' she encouraged following him. "We have
plenty and...." 
     "No, thanks anyway." He refused gently. "I've got some work ta get
done." He glanced over at Storm and offered her a sweet smile that made
her heart turn over in her chest. "You take care now." 
     "I will," she promised "Thank you again." He nodded and went out.
Storm turned to her aunt with a look of disbelief. "Oh Auntie, I think I'm
in love." Mrs. Pierce chuckled and went to check on their dinner. 
  

     Ray sat in the comfortable leather chair of Dr. Brook's office as
long as he could before finally rising and starting to pace, glancing at
his watch impatiently. He wanted her to hurry up and get her as much as he
wanted her to stay away, the idea of wanting to know the results of his
tests was as strong as the fear of not wanting to know. He had been
feeling better, so he was hoping it was good news, but damn it was driving
him crazy this waiting! He glanced at his watch again and ran his hand
through his hair, wishing one way or the other the doctor would show up
before this waiting drove him crazy! 
         He was startled when the door opened and the object of his
thoughts walked inside, closing the door behind her. She had a wonderful
bedside manner and Ray had liked her instantly, she had a way of putting
him at ease and even now, despite his frazzled nerves, he couldn't help
but return the warm smile she directed at him. 
        "Hiya Doc." He greeted as she moved toward the sofa at the far
wall, rather than behind her desk as she usually did. She indicated he
follow. 
         "Hello, Ray." She returned. "Let's sit over here where we'll be
more comfortable." Ray couldn't help but joke nervously as they settled
beside one another. 
         "Oh oh, yer tryin' ta put me at ease, dat can't be good." She
tried to smile at his comment but he noticed it didn't reach her usually
warm emerald eyes. "So what's the verdict? Am I gonna live, Doc?" When she
failed again to respond his good humor vanished. "Give it to me straight,
honey, I can take it. Nothing can be worse than what I've been imagining."
He placed his hand over hers and her eyes lowered to their entwined
fingers. 
         "I didn't mean to keep you waiting, Ray." She stated quietly, her
eyes rising to meet his. "I wanted to be sure." 
         Damn why couldn't she remain professionally distant with this
sweet man before her as she was forced to with others? There was just
something about him that she couldn't help be drawn into his warmth and
affection. He had been so scared when he had come to see her originally,
even with his tall, good looking partner beside him she sensed his
trepidation. She had tried to put him ease as best she could, knowing how
hard it was for him to have gotten this far. Now that she knew it was that
much harder to confront him with the news she would be delivering. 
         "What's up, Doc." He encouraged, now he was trying to put her at
ease and she couldn't help but allow the small smile that tugged at her
lips to the surface, receiving a bright grin from him. 
         "There is a tumor, about the size of a half dollar on the frontal
lobe of your brain." She informed slowly, watching the shock register in
his eyes, replaced by an uncertain fear. " It's known as a Posterior Fossa
Tumor and it is common that you would not experience side symptoms of the
tumor until it had already grown quite large, so you would have no way of
knowing it was there unless it was discovered in a general check up. It's
possible that if we operate immediately we might be able to remove part of
it, but..." 
         "Part?" Ray repeated dazed. 
         "The location of the tumor is too sensitive to remove it
completely," she explained. "There is also no guarantee that it will not
grow back in just a short time, forcing another Craniotomy, but we can
give you radiation therapy to help kill off what is left of the tumor
itself and the infecting cells around it." Ray paled and she felt his
withdrawal, so she tightened her grip on his fingers, not wanting him to
crawl inside himself as she had seen so many of her patients do when faced
with their own mortality. 
         "If you don't operate?" he murmured. 
         "If we don't operate then it will eventually kill you, Ray." She
stated and braced herself for the explosion to come. Many people dealt
with a possible death in different ways, usually they experienced a wave
of changing emotions, rage, fear, denial, hope, then finally defeat as
they tried to cope with the news. 
        She suspected Ray, as volatile as the detective seemed at times,
would immediately show his anger outright, so she was surprised when he
lowered his eyes and shook his head in slow deliberation. 
         "I...I don't want to die, Doc." He whispered, so painfully quiet
that Sehra had to strain to hear him. "If...if you operate how long..." he
swallowed. "How long do you think it would take to...um...to get bad
again?" 
         "There's no way of knowing, Ray." She sighed sympathetically. "It
could take weeks, or months. If the neurosurgeon can remove the general
bulk of it and we give you a heavy dose of focal radiation then it may die
off completely and you could live years yet.  Unfortunately Cancer is
still very much a large mystery to medical science, there is just no
certain way to know for sure. We can study the tumor once it is removed
and estimate what we can do to get rid of it, but there are no
guarantees." He nodded. 
          "The operation...will it take long?" he asked. "Will I have a
long recovery or...or will I pretty much be able to go back to work
afterwards?" 
          "It really depends, Ray." She replied. "Some people experience a
healing period of a few weeks, some claim they feel great just a few days
later." He nodded again. "I can give you a play by play of exactly what
the surgery will entail if you prefer? 
          "I...no." Ray shivered. "I don't think I want to know." Sehra
nodded, there were a few people who just couldn't handle hearing the gory
details and she accepted that. 
          "But you don't know how long...." He broke off, his jaw
clenching and she squeezed his shoulders encouragingly, answering his
unfinished question. 
          "No, but it will give you some time, Ray." She insisted. "Isn't
that worth it?" 
          "Let me think about it?" he asked, turning toward her and she
saw the confusion in his shimmering eyes. She inclined her head in
agreement. 
          "Not too long, Ray." She requested quietly and he gave her a
curt nod, understanding the longer they waited the harder it would be to
operate and give him any chance at all. "Will you tell your family?
Fraser?" He shook his head. 
          "Not...not right away." he explained. "I...I need some time." 
          "I understand." She agreed.  "Ray?" He met her gaze. "Don't be
too brave and try going through this alone, okay, it is better to have
your friends and family beside you during a time like this." 
          "I...I know." He whispered as both people finally gave into what
they wanted most and embraced each other. 
  

         "Ray?" Francesca called as she approached. "There's some lady
askin' fer you down at holding." Ray frowned as he looked up from the file
he was reading. He was having a good day today, Fraser had returned from
Canada and they would be seeing each other later, and he had finally
scheduled the surgery he promised Dr. Brook he would have. He had taken a
long hard look at things over the weekend and after throwing a few temper
tantrums and crying a lot, he decided he would have to just find a way to
deal with the things that were happening to him and live one day at a
time. 
         "What kinda lady?" he asked warily. He sometimes gave his name to
the hookers and street people he questioned on occasion, and that was the
lot which usually ended up in holding. Francesca shrugged. 
         "Some old lady that claims she knows you." 
         "Oh jeeze!" he exclaimed. "It's not my mum is it? Was she
picketin' dat market again?" 
         "It's not yer mother no." Francesca laughed as she returned to
her desk and Ray sighed in relief then dropped his file on the desk and
headed down stairs. 
         He waved at the guard as he passed, then handed him his gun as he
entered the holding cells of the station. As he suspected it was filled to
capacity with streetwalkers, loud mouth junkies, petty thieves and a few
of the regular homeless fellows that liked getting arrested just because
it got them a free meal and a warm bunk. He spotted the pair on the bench
closest to the bars and blinked in shock, then shook his head to clear it
as they noticed them. 
         "Mrs. P, I'm shocked!" he teased as he folded his arms across his
chest and gazed at his landlady and her niece. He leaned closer and
whispered in a conspiring voice. "Whatcha do, hit some store clerk over da
head with a loaf of bread fer chargin' too much?" She giggled and blushed
as she moved closer to him and away from the general population of the
cell. 
         "It is all a misunderstanding." She assured quickly. "I told the
arresting officer that it was a mistake but he wouldn't listen to me." Her
eyes started to tear up and she lowered them ashamed as Storm stepped
forward, balanced on crutches and her foot wrapped. 
         "We were coming out of the doctor's office and Auntie wanted to
check out that new antique shop that was just across the street." She
stated. "We started to go inside when these two guys ran out, dressed like
women and wearing masks on their faces and ran into us." 
         "How'd ya know dey were men?" Ray inquired. 
         "The one that hit me was flat chested, muscle bound and smelled
like cigars." She retorted and he nodded. "Anyway, they dropped their bag
or whatever, I guess they had just robbed the store. They took off just as
a cop came around the corner as Auntie was helping me to my feet. He saw
the bag next to us and we were immediately arrested." 
         "We tried to tell him that the real perpetrators had run down the
street but he wouldn't listen." Judith Pierce insisted as she sniffed in
distress and Ray moved over to retrieve a box of tissues from the desk
sergeant and hand a couple to her. "He didn't believe us. He just kept
glaring at Storm and muttering something about how her kind was always
guilty. Oh, Detective Vecchio, we didn't know what else to do so I told
them I knew you." 
         "Don't you worry Mrs. P." he assured and she found she liked the
way he had shortened her name. "Do you remember the name of the officer?" 
         "Oh...um...I believe it was Reck...rock..." 
         "Roddner." Storm supplied. "Officer Roddner." Ray nodded his jaw
clenching in anger; they'd had trouble with this guy before. 
         "You hang tight for a few minutes and I'll be right back okay?"
he offered and they nodded as he caught sight of a tall black woman in
tight spandex clothing. "Cheryl, look after these two fer me, will
ya-don't let the other's bother 'em." 
         "Anything fer you, Ray." She assured moving over to run a long
red painted fingernail on the hand he had rested against the bar next to
his landlady. "Fer my usual fee." Ray grinned. 
         "You'll be out in an hour, you know dat." He returned. "Be a Good
Samaritan, an I'll bring ya a present when I come back." 
         "Sure honey." She agreed and the three walked off. Cheryl smiled
at them. "Don't worry, he'll set everything to rights, he's good at that."

         "Are you and he...friends?" Judith Pierce inquired curious. 
         "Friends?" she repeated thoughtfully as she lit a cigarette. "I
don't know about that, but he's pretty good to me and some of my
girlfriends. He pays good money for information and usually tries to keep
the heat off us." 
         "He prefers that you be out on the street?" Storm asked surprised
and Cheryl shrugged. 
         "No, he prefers we be safe, and since this is our...well chosen
profession, he tries to do what he can." Her eyes regarded Storm quietly.
"He's not like the other cops we deal with, who are either abusive or
preachy or trying to get a quick lay with their information. He's a real
gentleman to all us girls, never makes us feel like trash the way most do
and never condemns us for what we're doing." She took a long drag on her
cigarette. "He offers each of us the option of an out if we want to get
off the street, he'll help us, but he doesn't push us." Her eyes narrowed
on Storm. "And he never uses us, despite the propositions we offer him." 
         "I remember when I first met Ray." another girl, couldn't have
been more than twenty, but her makeup hardened her face to seem older, as
she joined the conversation. "I thought he was so slick and cool with that
wild hair and flashing steel eyes." She sighed. "And that smile, I could
sell his smile on the open market and make a fortune." 
         "He's not like the other cops, he's more down to earth, relates
to the real people of the city a lot better." Agreed Cheryl. 
         "I offered to do him..." she glanced at Mrs. Pierce. "Um...sorry,
I mean I offered my services to him for free. Know what he said?" Storm
shook her head as the hooker got a dreamy look on her face. "He said
something that precious was worth too much to offer to give away to
someone I didn't love and care for." She smiled impishly. "So I offered to
charge him, but he just laughed and suggested I put my sharp wit to work
for me and become a counselor for kids, you know, reachin' out to them and
stuff. No one's ever said I could be more than I was before and it had to
be the sweetest refusal I ever had." 
         "I remember when..." Cheryl began but shut up as she noticed the
detective headed down their way again and she winked at Storm. "Where's my
treat, sugar? I babysat really good for you." Ray glanced at Storm and
Mrs. Pierce. 
         "She didn't try ta recruit ya did she?" he teased and both women
blushed and laughed as they shook their heads. He grinned and waved at the
desk sergeant who walked over with the keys. "Com'ahn jailbirds, ya been
sprung." Storm and her aunt hurried through gratefully as Ray crooked his
finger at Cheryl. "You too gorgeous." The hooker sauntered through and the
guard closed the gate as she waved at the others that had to stay behind. 
         "You're so good to me." Cheryl insisted moving to deliver a big
kiss on the detective who neatly dodged her. 
         "I'm workin' here!" he laughed as she tried for him again and he
allowed her to give him a peck on the cheek, then proceeded to wipe off
her lipstick with her fingers. 
         "So am I honey." She assured deliberately. "Always." 
         "Scat before I change my mind." He growled and she hurried out,
knowing she would only get one chance to fly free. He escorted Judith and
Storm out past the desk, retrieving his weapon on the way, then guided
them upstairs to the bull pen, using the handicap lift due to Storm's
injury and Mrs. Pierce's age. He ushered him into one of the interview
rooms then asked them to wait for him. 
         "So this is where he works." Storm commented glancing around as
her Aunt settled in the chair beside the desk and storm leaned against it,
propping her crutches next to her. A moment later they over heard a heated
exchange off in a section of the corridor where they couldn't see. The
door opened again and Ray was guiding, rather forcefully, the young rookie
that had arrested them into the room, shoving him in a chair. 
         "Think she can run wit dat on?" Ray barked at him, indicating
Storm's bandaged foot. The rookie shook his head, his lips tightened in
anger and embarrassment. "Now, once again, what evidence was dere to
support arrestin' deese two ladies?" 
         "They had the bag from the store." Roddner insisted grimly. 
         "And?" 
         "A...and they were female, the owner said the suspects were
female." 
         "When did he tell ya dat?" 
         "Er...well, I...I heard the call come in that it was two women
robbing the store and..." 
         "And when did ya talk to the owner?" 
         "Uh...after." 
         "After what?" 
         "After I arrested the suspects." Roddner supplied as sweat broke
put on his brow. 
         "So ya detained these ladies den went to get da owner to ID them,
correct?" 
         "No...no." Roddner stammered. 
         "No?" Ray repeated folding his arms across his chest and staring
hard at the cop. "No, you didn't detain them or no you didn't have the
owner ID them?" 
         "I...I arrested the suspects." Roddner managed nervously. 
         "You said dat." Ray stated leaning on the table menacingly and
Roddner leaned back warily. 
         "I...I arrested them and...and put them in my car and...then I
went to the owner and asked him w...what was taken." 
         "Did he give you a description of the suspects?" Ray growled and
Roddner shook his head. "Did you ask him for one? Did you show him the two
women you had in custody?" Again the man shook his head and Ray's hand
slapped hard on the table, making everyone jump. "So ya arrested dem,
without cause, without a description and without gettin' a proper ID
because they were standin' outside da shop wit a bag?" 
         "I...I...they were the only women I saw and their kind..."
Roddner babbled and realized his mistake as Kowalski's eyes narrowed on
him. "I...I mean..." 
         "Mrs. Pierce." Ray addressed in a low but reasonably professional
voice. "Would you  or your niece like to press charges against Officer
Roddner fer false arrest?" 
         "No." Judith returned quietly. "I just want to go home and for
all this to be over." 
         "Yer lucky, Roddner." Ray insisted. "I'd have had yer ass in a
sling if it'd been me. Now get da hell outta here." The cop couldn't leave
fast enough. Ray offered the ladies a smile, his earlier anger already
fading as he escorted them out. "Sorry fer all da trouble." 
         "You've been wonderful, Detective." Judith commented. "We are so
sorry to be such a bother to you." 
         "No problem." He assured as Francesca walked passed, smiled
sweetly at them and slapped a file into Ray's chest. 
         "Here's yer stupid file." She growled, then smiled sunnily at the
women again before moving off. 
         "Great!" Ray called after her, catching the file before it
slipped to the floor. "It only took ya an hour!" 
         "I was busy!" she sauced back and Ray shook his head as Storm
glanced after the smaller woman. 
         "Is she always like that?" she inquired and Ray shrugged
grinning. 
         "Pretty much." He returned, as a surprising thought entered his
head. He would really miss Frannie, he never thought about that before,
despite the pain she was to him, he really was very fond of her. He shook
his head, time to get back to business. "Well, I gotta get back to work,
you two take care now." He had started to move away when Judith caught his
arm and he turned back to her. 
         "Would you allow us to repay your kindness by coming to dinner
tonight?" she invited warmly. "I'm making fried chicken." 
         "Dat's nice of ya to offer." He returned gently. "But I gotta
work tonight." 
         "All night?' she asked concerned, reminding Ray of his own
Mother. 
         "Yah, me and Fraser gotta do some surveillance until about one or
two in the morning." Ray replied. "I'll only be home long enough ta change
clothes and stuff." 
         "Oh, that's too bad." Judith frowned and patted his arm. "Perhaps
the weekend then, you and your partner can come?" 
         "I'll have to see, I may be going out of town this weekend." He
replied regretfully and the ladies nodded and finally turned to leave. 
  

         Ray awoke in the hospital, he felt as though he had been turned
inside out, shaken over an old fashioned washing board then rolled back
right side in again. He was nauseous, his throat hurt. His head pounded
and he was trembling. He followed the IV tube from his arm to the liquid
sack above him and blinked rapidly to focus his eyes. He slowly raised his
hand to touch the bandage wrapped around his head as his hospital door
opened and Dr. Brook entered smiling. 
         "Morning Sunshine." She greeted as she automatically picked up
his wrist between her two fingers and glanced at her watch to time his
pulse. "How do you feel?" 
         "Like crap." Ray muttered, offering her a small grin. "Thanks fer
askin'." Sehra laughed and placed his arm back on the bed. 
         "I've some news that might make you feel better then." She stated
watching him glance up at her curiously. 
         "Dis is a dream and I'm actually lyin' on a beach somewhere with
a beautiful half naked girl beside me?" he asked hopefully and she tsked
at him smiling. 
         "Not quite that good, I'm afraid." She laughed and he smiled,
despite the pain it caused him. "The surgeons managed to get three
quarters of the tumor removed, a very good portion considering its
placement and they suspect from their direct inspection of it that it has
been growing decidedly slowly, so we may get lucky and the radiation will
kill it off all together. 
         "Dat is good news." Ray sighed and closed his eyes for a minute
thankfully. He had accepted that the tumor might eventually kill him, but
he had been prepared to hear that his time would be shortened after the
surgery and that the cancer killing him could not be mostly removed. He
opened his eyes and indicated the bandage. "What about my hair?" 
         "They only had to shave a small portion." She stated calmly. "It
should grow back in no time." She smiled. "You might consider getting a
shorter cut, perhaps military style until it grows back, if you are
worried about people getting suspicions." He stared at her as though she
had just grown a second head. 
         "Now dat would make people suspicious!" he decided and she
laughed again. 
         "Oh, I don't know." She teased. "I think a crew cut would make
you look dashing." 
         "You don't like my hair?" he protested wounded and she smiled and
bent to kiss his cheek affectionately. 
         "I love your hair." She promised softly. "I'll love it still when
it grows back, but I think you'll look just as handsome with it cut." He
blushed and grinned. 
         "Let's not get carried away now." He warned flustered making her
giggle again. "When can I go home?" 
         "Day after tomorrow, if you feel up to it." She decided and he
nodded.  "We'll start the radiation treatments next week, the sooner the
better. What have you told your partner?" 
         "Same as everybody else, dat I had a date wit a gorgeous emerald
eye goddess and we were goin' away fer a few days of secluded partyin'."
It was Sehra's turn to blush and she slapped his arm playfully. 
         "I guess I'll have to make your stay worth your while then, Hmm?"
she offered and Ray reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. 
         "You already have, Doc." He assured. "You gave me hope." Sehra
blinked away her tears and tried to smile, returning his squeeze before
releasing his hand and moving away. 
         "I'll be in to check on you later." She promised. "Would you like
me to bring you anything?" Ray shook his head and watched her leave, then
settled back against his pillows, his headache lessening finally enough to
allow him to go back to sleep. 
  

         "It's all yer fault, Fraser!" Ray insisted as they climbed the
stairs to the detective's apartment, both of them dripping wet. "It's like
yer attracted to water or somethin'. Once every couple a weeks ya gotta
pull some fool stunt dat gets us soaked. Like yer tryin' ta make me catch
phenomena." 
         "That's just silly, Ray." Fraser returned as Ray unlocked his
apartment door, the Mountie seemed decidedly less sodden than the
detective and his red serge uniform still looked practically perfect. Ray
couldn't imagine what it was like to walk around wearing wet wool and he
shivered as he automatically pulled off his shirt, sock and boots. 
         "Yer lucky I keep some of yer clothes here, Buddy, cause we ain't
got time ta stop at the consulate fer you to change." He stated as he
wandered into his room out of sight as Fraser closed the door behind them.

         Ray had been in decidedly good spirits the past week or so and it
could only be assumed that his impromptu vacation had worked out. Ray had
returned his usually chipper and energetic self, sporting a smart looking
gray salt and pepper cap that apparently his new lady friend had given
him. The detective had been wearing it everyday at the precinct and rarely
took it off, so Fraser assumed the woman must be special indeed for her
gift to receive such devotion, despite the taunts he received from his
co-workers. 
          Whenever anyone tried to pry some information from his friend
about the secret liaison he was decidedly closed mouth, using Fraser's
excuse of chivalry to refuse to kiss and tell. When Fraser inquired of his
health, Ray continued to remind the Mountie of the dangers of 'Mothering
him again' and so Fraser would let it drop. Besides, the detective seemed
much healthier than his previous condition so he shouldn't be worried. 
         However, Fraser could not hide his shock after their recent
pursuit had led them in through a car wash and they had both gotten soaked
with their suspect. Once the man had been cuffed and escorted to the
vehicle, Ray had pulled off his cap for the first time and wiped the
clinging moisture from his face and hair; or rather what there was of his
hair.  Fraser simply couldn't believe that Ray's exuberantly wild blond
spikes had been replaced by a painfully short military style cut, that
seemed so close to his scalp you could barely tell where his flesh stopped
and his hair began. The only real indication were the tiny rigidly
straight spikes that pressed upwards from his head in an orderly stylish
cut.  Fraser had noticed Ray had cut his hair on the side and the back,
where the cap did no cover, but he never would have suspected the blond to
cut it so short all the way around. 
         He was sure Ray had almost laughed at the Mounties's gaping
expression of his hair, explaining that he had done it on a dare while he
was away and that Fraser shouldn't worry, he was growing it back. This
appeased Fraser somewhat, but he hadn't been able to keep from staring at
Ray the rest of the way home. Fraser, of course, not wanting to appear
rude, quickly informed Ray that he looked quite attractive and stylish
with his new hair. 
         "Yer also lucky I'm not as prone ta violence as I used to be."
Ray informed as he returned from his room, dressed in fresh jeans and
socks, with a T-shirt in each hand.  Again Fraser's eyes drifted to Ray's
hair, he missed the longer spikes more than he would ever have thought he
would. 
         "I am grateful for that, Ray." He assured and moved to the hall
closet where a spare pair of his jeans, a sweater and his extra brown
bomber jacket stood. He removed his Stetson and set it on the special hook
Ray had thoughtfully installed for just that purpose. Ray often offered to
let Fraser come over and do his laundry, since there wasn't one at the
consulate and Fraser almost always ended up leaving clothing behind, mixed
up with Ray's. 
         "Here!" Ray tossed one of the shirts to Fraser, who caught it
easily. "Too hot fer a sweater." 
         "Thank you kindly, Ray." Fraser returned pulling a pair of jeans
from the hanger and closing the closet door as he headed to Ray's room to
change. 
         "I left some unmentionables," Ray grinned wiggling his eyebrows
as Fraser smirked at him and tried not to blush. "On da bed. Don't know if
they're yers or mine, so help yerself." Fraser thanked him again as a
knock sounded at the door. 
         Ray moved to answer it, as Fraser went to change. Storm started
to smile in greeting, but faltered when she noticed the detective's bare
chest, pale, smooth and very enticing with the promise of a hidden
strength. Her ankle had healed up and she had been trying to find a reason
to see the detective again. Her aunt had made some brownies and she asked
if she could bring some up to Ray, giving her the excuse she needed. She
also noticed his new hair cut and like Fraser tried to hide her shock. She
rather liked it actually, it made him look like one of those military
posters of the perfect GI. "Um...hi." Storm greeted smiling, as Ray
shrugged into his T-shirt, unaware of her appraisal. "My aunt made some
brownies and thought you might like some." 
         "She didn't have ta do dat." He insisted and Storm shrugged
helplessly. 
          "I told Auntie you'd probably think she was being pushy, she
said you liked your privacy but..." 
         "Oh, no!" Ray quickly assured. "It's not dat, I just...well she's
just really sweet ta think of me." He stepped aside and waved her in.
"Com'on in." She stepped over the threshold hesitantly and he closed the
door as Fraser exited the bedroom. 
         "Ray, is this my blue shirt or yours?" He inquired holding up the
simple navy button down. His eyes rested on Storm. "Oh, hello." 
         "Storm, dis is my partner Constable Benton Fraser." Ray
introduced as he accepted the colorful tin from her and set it on the
counter. "Frase, Storm..." he paused and looked at her. "I don't know yer
last name, is it Pierce?" Storm shook her head. 
         "Black Feather." She supplied, her eyes never leaving the Mountie
before her. "My Father is full blood Cherokee." 
         "Cool." Ray returned, though he had guessed her native heritage
simply by looking at her. "She's my landlady's niece, Frase." He winked at
her. "And an ex-jailbird." She blushed prettily at his teasing, though
Fraser refrained from commenting on it, Ray had told him what had happened
earlier. 
         "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Black Feather." He offered
politely as Ray moved to inspect the shirt Fraser held. 
         "Dis is yours." He told the Mountie. "Mine has a tear in the
sleeve." Fraser nodded; it was the only article of clothing that they ever
confused other than their plain white socks and sometimes their jeans. 
         Fraser had commented that he liked the blue shirt one-day when
his partner wore it, so Ray had managed to find one for him as a Christmas
gift. Fraser had been delighted and he wore the shirt often to show his
pleasure at the gift. It was a simple cotton cut with a short collar and
long cuffed sleeves, which Ray usually, wore rolled up. But it was a roomy
shirt, so the detective often wore it loose to hide his holster. 
         "I...it's nice to meet you as well, Constable." She returned
finally. "My Aunt has mentioned you to me before I believe." 
         "She is a charming lady." Fraser confirmed smiling and Storm
nodded quickly then turned her attention back to Ray, who was fastening
his shoulder holster over his T-shirt. 
         "I...we hope you enjoy the brownies and....um...Auntie said to be
careful if you are working tonight." She managed, flustered as she watched
Ray check the magazine in his gun then slide it into the holster
effectively. He retrieved his boots and slipped them on. 
         "I'll walk ya back." Ray offered as he pulled his slight Gray
jacket from the closet behind him and retrieved a ball cap from the
closet, since his other hat was wet. "Thank her personal." He glanced at
Fraser. "I'll be back in a minute." 
         "Very well, Ray." Fraser replied easily, then to Storm. "It was
very nice to meet you Miss. BlackFeather." Storm murmured a response then
followed the detective out, her heart pounding in her chest. How could
life be so cruel? She finally found a guy she really liked and it appeared
he was already involved with the Mountie. She could understand the
detective's choice of course, Fraser was incredibly handsome, but it still
hurt like hell. Perhaps her friend Joanne was right; all the good ones
were either taken or gay. 
         "I...you're partner seems very nice." She finally managed as they
stepped into the lift and headed for the first floor. Ray nodded as he
fitted the Bulls cap over his head. 
         "Yah, everybody likes Fraser." He commented. "Unless yer a bad
guy, den they just find him ta be really annoying." She smiled. 
         "How long have you too been together?" 
         "Oh, almost six months now." 
         "Is he planing on moving in with you?" she inquired before she
could stop herself and then blushed. "I...I mean my Aunt could probably
get you a deal on one of the larger apartments." Ray regarded her quietly
for a moment, then the elevator doors opened and they stepped out. 
         "I like my apartment." He replied slowly. "It's just right fer me
and Fraser has his own place, well sorta. I can't see us bein' roomies,
we'd end up killin' each other if we were around each other twenty four
seven." 
         "Surely you could work those little things out for the sake of
being together." Storm reasoned, surprised to find herself getting so
brazenly personal. "I mean all couples go through an adjustment period
that..." 
         "What did you just say?" he demanded stopping suddenly in the
hallway and staring at her shocked. "You think me and Frase....that
we...are...." He made motions with his hands when he could not bring
himself o form the words and she blushed. "No Way! The Mounties as
straight as an arrow and I am seriously heterosexual, I was even married
once! How da hell did you come up dat we were gay?" 
         "I...well...he...he came out of your room and...and the shirt
and..." she stammered aghast at her error. 
         "I do his laundry for him sometimes and he usually leaves a few
changes of clothes at my place fer when we are doin' a stake out like
tonight and wanna change into somethin' more comfortable." He glared at
her. "Why am I explainin' dis to you? It's none of yer business what my
relationship with my partner is either way!" 
         "I'm sorry." She whispered lowering her eyes contritely She
deserved his anger, she had no right to pry into his personal affairs.
When she glanced up timidly his expression had softened and his eyes were
no longer sparkling with offense. 
         "Look, I...I didn't mean ta yell." He offered. "I...ya just...I
never expected someone ta think..." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter.
"Fraser's my best friend and my partner but he's also straight and if yer
interested in him den ya know now ya got a shot, though he gets real
nervous around da ladies at times." 
         "I...I'm not interested in him." she protested quickly. 
         "Den why were ya so....." His eyes narrowed. "Den what difference
would it make he was straight or gay?" She shook her head. 
         "I don't care if he is or not." She confirmed. "I...I
thought...it was more...um...distressing to learn you might be." Ray
regarded her in shock. 
         "Me?" he declared surprised. "Why would ya care if I was...." The
look she gave him said it all as she blushed a pretty pink.
"Oooohhh...ah....I get it." He shifted his weight slightly and scratched
the back of his neck. "Um...you were upset because you...well...um...." He
paused, his eyes going everywhere but her as he continued to nervously
fidget. This wasn't fair! A beautiful woman actually had an interest in
him and he was...well, he might not be around long enough to enjoy it, it
just wasn't fair. "Well, I'm...I'm not...gay that is...I'm...er
straight...real straight. I love women in fact." Finally his eyes met
hers. "Thank yer aunt fer me, I gotta go we're...er...runnin' late." He
was off and ducking into the elevator before she could respond and Storm
growled at her own stupidity and leaned against the nearest wall, banging
her head against the plaster repeatedly. 
  

         "She seems very nice, Ray." Fraser offered as they sat in the
darkened alley inside Ray's GTO. 
         "Hmmm? Who, Fraser?" Ray asked startled, he hadn't been paying
attention to what the Mountie was saying, nothing unusual there. His mind
tended to wander more than usual lately, trying to deal with his sudden
mortality had made him extremely thoughtful. 
         "Miss. BlackFeather." Fraser supplied. "She seems very nice." 
         "She thought we were gay." Ray blurted before he could stop
himself and Fraser blushed. 
         "Oh Dear!" he chuckled. "I trust you set her straight?" Ray
chuckled at his play on words, wondering if the Mountie did that
intentionally or was simply oblivious to his pun. 
         "Yah." Ray returned as he stared at the warehouse across the
street and sipped his coffee. "I thought she was upset 'cause she thought
you were gay. Y'know how da women fall all over ya, thought maybe we
ruined her life or something." 
         "Now really Ray." Fraser scolded. "My preference shouldn't matter
to her or any one else one way or the other, especially if it is someone I
have only just met." 
         "Yer a moron Fraser." 
         "Excuse me?" 
         "Yer an obtuse moron." Ray corrected with a grin. "Women would be
out doin' away wit dem selves if it was suggested you were gay, dey
wouldn't be able ta stand it. It'd be like sec...sac...sacra...a really
bad thing." 
         "Sacrilegious, Ray?" Fraser offered and the detective nodded.
"That's just silly, Ray. I am not a god, Saint or any other revered
person, to be deemed worthy of sacrificing oneself." 
         "I'd sacrifice fer ya Fraser." Ray offered quietly and Fraser
blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected such a profound and honest
statement from his partner, but then Kowalski rarely missed the
opportunity to surprise him. 
         Kowalski had already proved his loyalty on their first meeting
when he took a bullet meant for Fraser from Greta Garbo. The detective had
been wearing a vest, but she could have easily shot him somewhere more
vital and therefore not protected, yet Ray had jumped in front of the
Mountie anyway. 
         "And I you, Ray." He returned truthfully. "But to expect some
woman I do not even know would..." 
         "I'm just teasin' ya, Buddy." Ray sighed, letting the Canadian
off the hook before he started to blither and give Ray a headache. "But ya
do get a lot of attention, hell da way ya look people'd have ta be blind
not to notice, but I just, y'know thought Storm was upset over what she
thought we were." 
         "Was she upset over it, Ray?" 
         "Kinda," Ray admitted. "Just not the way I thought." Fraser
frowned. 
         "I am afraid I do not follow you, Ray." 
         "She was...um...upset because, well she thought that...well dat I
was gay." He finally managed as Fraser regarded him quietly. 
         "That stands to reason then that she was relieved when you told
her you were not?" he inquired and Ray nodded. "So she has feelings for
you then?" 
         "I dunno, Fraser." Ray returned. "I...she's Mrs. Pierce's niece
and...well it don't seem right ta...well get involved with da relatives of
the person ya pay rent to. Besides she's only stayin' awhile." 
         "Perhaps she could be convinced to stay longer?" Fraser offered
and Ray shook his head, but remained silent. "Unless of course your
mysterious lady from this weekend past means more to you than just a
casual encounter?" Ray did not offer a comment one way or the other.
"Hmmm." 
         "Do. Not. Do. That. Fraser." Ray warned. 
         "Sorry, Ray." Fraser returned. "I was just agreeing with you. In
reality I can well understand your dilemma, it is much the same as my
problem with Francesca." 
         "You like Frannie, she likes you, where's da problem?" Ray
demanded. 
        Whether Fraser admitted his feeling or not Ray had somehow managed
to see inside his heart with regards to the pretty Italian that worked
with them and Fraser just excepted now that Ray was going to comment on it
on occasion, that was just the way the detective was. 
         "She is Ray Vecchio's sister." Fraser reminded and Ray grinned. 
         "I'm Ray Vecchio." He rebuked. "And I say go fer it. I'm givin'
ya permission. 
         "Ray, you are not really Ray Vecchio." 
         "Prove it." Ray challenged still grinning. 
         "You do not look any thing like him for one." 
         "I coulda had surgery." Ray taunted. 
         "You're slightly shorter than he is." 
         "Some people shrink wit age, it's a common fact." 
         "Your finger prints and dental records are not those of Ray
Vecchio." Fraser insisted, used to their familiar game. 
         "Dey are in my file." Ray continued. 
         "Your behavior is totally different from Ray Vecchio's." 
         "It's da job, stress changes a person sometimes." Ray concluded
and Fraser sighed in defeat. They could go on with this forever but the
detective was in rare form tonight and winning would not come easy this
time. Finally Fraser said something that he knew the detective could not
rebuke. 
         "Ray Vecchio never understood me the way you do. He never had the
window into my soul that you seem to view me with." Ray stared at him
startled and for a moment Fraser saw tears well up in his partner's eyes
and he mirrored them in his own gaze. Both men quickly blinked them away
and composed themselves. 
         "Den I'm glad I'm not Ray Vecchio." Ray finally admitted when he
could speak. Fraser smiled. 
         "As am I." the Mountie offered. "Though I do miss him, I am glad
that I had the chance to know you as well." Ray grinned, as his expression
grew wistful. 
         "Same here, Barry." Ray returned "Still think you should go fer
it, though." He insisted quietly. "Life's too short not to try for
somethin' ya want." 
        Fraser regarded him thoughtfully, deciding not to comment on the
detective's slip of his name; who was Barry? Curiosity was about to get
the better of him and just when he would have asked a movement caught
Ray's eye. 
        "Hey, dere's our suspect. Pitter patter buddy."   Both men quickly
exited the vehicle and went to apprehend their prey. 
  

         "Hey Ray!" Francesca called out as he and Fraser entered the
station the following day, after running down some leads in one of their
cases. She hurried up to them and handed the detective a slip of paper
with a name and number on it, while making eyes at her favorite Mountie in
the process. "I called about that tailor you asked me to check on and it
seems that the shop doesn't exist where he claimed to work." 
         "Why the f**k don't you mind your own business!" Ray snapped
snatching the paper from her hand and shocking those around him,
especially his pretend sister and partner. "Mind yer own f**kin'
business!" 
         "Ray!" Fraser exclaimed as Francesca stared at him speechless,
then fled with her hands over her face to hide her tears. Ray had left
them to walk over to his desk and Fraser hurried after him. "Ray!" 
         "Yah, Frase?" the detective replied calmly as he dropped the note
on his desk and pulled off his leather jacket to drape over the back of
his chair. 
         "Why did you say that to Francesca?" Fraser demanded trying to
curb his shock and anger at his partner's reprehensible behavior. Ray
glanced at him confused. 
         "Say what, Buddy?" he asked curious and Fraser stared at him
reprovingly. 
         "W...what you said." The Mountie returned, not wanting to repeat
the harsh words. "Why did you swear at her and behave so abominably?" 
          Ray gazed at him for a long moment, before lowering his eyes to
the note on his desk. What had he said to Francesca? He didn't remember
saying anything more than thank you. Did he swear at her? He couldn't have
done that, why would he? He never swore at women, especially not Betty
she...he shook his head, Frannie, not Betty. He dropped into his chair as
his head started to throb; unaware of Fraser's sharp appraisal that was
quickly turning to concern. Fraser wouldn't lie to him, certainly not abut
something like this, and the Mountie really looked angry. 
         "I...I'll go apologize." Ray informed quietly, rising from his
chair and walking off in search of the pretty Italian. He found her in the
break room, pouring herself a cup of coffee with shaky hands. "Frannie?"
Her back stiffened at the sound of his voice and she did not turn to face
him. "Look, I'm...I'm sorry for whatever it was that I said that upset
you." 
         "Whatever you said!" she declared turning finally and glaring
furiously at him. "You can't even figure out what part I might get
offended at?" Ray bit his lip and tried to remember what he had said, but
he was drawing a blank. 
         "I...yah, I...I mean of course." he lied. "I...I'm sorry, really.
I don't know why I said it. Ya can pop me if ya want." Francesca seemed to
consider this before walking up to him and raising her hand as Ray
prepared for the blow, but instead she just shoved at his chest and
sniffed. 
         "Don't ever do it again." she warned the stalked off as Ray
breathed a sigh of relief. He probably deserved her physical abuse, much
worse than what she offered at that point. 
         "I'll try not to." He whispered to himself, trying to quell the
unreasonable fear rising within him. What was going on? 
  

         Storm and Mrs. Pierce did not see Ray at all the next few weeks;
either he was leaving early or coming home long after they had retired for
the evening. He had left the empty tin by the door with a note of thanks
to both of them, but had not attempted to accept Mrs. Pierce's offer for
dinner. Storm was convinced she had scared him away and was depressed over
her actions. She would sit by her bedroom window for hours hoping to catch
a glimpse of him as he pulled into the parking lot. She couldn't eat or
sleep; all her thoughts were of Ray.  She had actually gathered the
courage to go to his apartment twice, but he either wasn't answering the
door or was not yet home. Every now and then she would hear a gentle
thumping above her and her Aunt informed her it was probably the detective
dancing again, so Storm would spend that time envisioning she was the one
Ray was dancing with. 
         "Storm?" her aunt inquired as she entered her niece's room where
the taller woman was laying on her bed daydreaming. She felt foolish,
being thirty-three years old and so caught up in a crush, but she couldn't
seem to help herself. "Well you go and fetch the mail for me dear?" 
         "Sure Auntie." She agreed rising from her bed and leaving the
apartment to wander down the hall toward the entrance of the building
where the mail boxes were located. She was just pulling her mail out when
a cool breeze drifted toward her and she turned to see the object of her
desire enter the building. 
         "Hey." He greeted as he pulled open his own mailbox and grabbed
out the handful of letters and flyers inside. 
         "H...Hi." she finally managed after watching him close it and
start away.  "D...Detective?" He stopped and turned back to her. "H...how
are you doing?" 
         "Fine." He replied. "You?" 
         "I...I'm okay." She stammered. "I like spending time with my
Aunt." 
         "Glad to hear it." He acknowledged and headed toward he stairs. 
         "Have I done something to offend you?' She called after him
desperately as she slammed the mailbox closed and hurried after him. 
         "No." he replied calmly, as his hand reached for the door that
led to the stairwell. 
         "Auntie has been waiting for you to set a time to come for
dinner." She blurted, shuffling her feet nervously as she lowered her
eyes. "I...Can I tell her when you and you partner might be available? She
really is set on it." 
         "I'll ask Fraser." Ray promised. "I'll call her later, okay?"
Storm nodded and watched him disappear up the stairs.  She sighed and was
headed back toward their apartment when she heard the distinct sound of a
loud thud on the stairwell. The mail fluttered from her hand as she ran
back to the door where the detective had disappeared, and headed quickly
up the stairs. 
          She found him slumped on the bottom of the third landing, from
the position of his body he looked like he may have fallen from the stairs
or the higher platform. She kneeled beside him and checked for a pulse,
relieved to find one.  She gently slapped his cheeks to try and awaken
him, but he was not moving and she became concerned. She then quickly
started to search for the cell phone she knew he carried and shaking
fingers she dialed 911 and gave them the address, then tossed the phone
aside, continuing to try and revive him. 
         "Please don't die." She pleaded with him as her free hand wiped
his hair from his brow, knowing that the fall could have seriously damaged
him, depending on how high up the stairs he had made it before he came
crashing down.  She gently cushioned his head with her legs. "Not now that
I've found you, please be okay." 
  

         At the hospital they would not let Storm or Mrs. Pierce see Ray
and because they were not family they were given no information on his
condition. Storm paced the hospital waiting room, as they waited for
Fraser to appear; her aunt had called the Mountie as soon the ambulance
left with Ray then drove her niece to the hospital. Luckily there had been
someone at the Canadian consulate to give the Mountie the message, for he
had been on an errand when she originally called. 
          Storm continued to pace thinking of Ray and how mush she loved
him. She had known it from the moment she had set eyes on him and he had
so tenderly and somewhat shyly carried her to her Aunt's apartment. She
would forever be grateful that the chair she had been standing on to reach
the higher window in the basement to allow air inside, had given beneath
her and allowed her to injure her ankle, for had she not fallen Ray would
never have come to her rescue. Storm was a practical woman, she did not
believe in love at first sight or infatuation, feeling herself above such
trivial romanticism, but after meeting the detective all prior notions of
what could and could not happen in the wheels of fate flew out the window.

         Her mind came back to the present as a handsome woman with a
friendly smile and luminous green eyes walked up to them, a long white
medical coat draped over the simple floral dress she wore. She was perhaps
three to four inches shorter than Storm, but she had long legs and an
impressive figure from what could be seen. 
         "Mrs. Pierce?" She asked as Judith nodded and stepped forward to
extend her hand to the doctor. "I'm Dr. Brook, Ray's personal physician." 
         "H...How is he?" Storm asked concerned. "They wouldn't tell us
anything." 
         "That is policy." Sehra informed regretfully. "But I have spoken
to Ray and he explained who you both were. He's doing fine and he says he
is sorry of he scared either of you by his collapse." 
         "What happened?" Judith asked. "Is he ill?" 
         "Why don't I let him explain." Sehra suggested warmly. "I'll
bring you in to see him if you like." 
         "You go on, Dear." Judith offered. "I'll stay here and watch for
Fraser." Storm nodded and followed Dr. Brook to Ray's room. The detective
appeared to be resting comfortably, even sitting up in the stark white bed
and flipping through a magazine, an IV strapped to his arm. He glanced up
as they entered and he offered Storm an embarrassed smile. 
          "Hey." He greeted tossing the magazine aside as Sehra left them
alone and closed the door. 
          "H...How do you feel?' she asked shyly, unable to hide her
worry. 
          "I'm okay." He assured her and offered a weak smile. "Thanks to
you." She blushed and lowered his eyes." 
          "Did they say what was wrong?" she asked curious and he
shrugged. 
          "Exhaustion." He supplied readily. "And a little dehydration."
He indicated the IV fluid. "Fraser will probably kill me when he gets here
fer not takin' better care of myself." Storm tried to smile, but she was
simply too worried and nervous for it to fully form. "Thanks fer what you
did." 
          "I'm just glad you're all right." She informed quietly. Ray
crooked her finger and indicated she move closer, which she did readily.
He took her hand and pressed the back of her fingers to his lips. 
          "Guess now we're even, hey?" he teased and she blushed as a
knock sounded at his door. Ray released her hand and called for the person
to enter, glad to see his partner standing in the doorway. He grinned. 
          "Hey, Buddy." He greeted. "What brings ya here?" Fraser smirked,
as he worked to keep his expression firm. 
          "My partner apparently can't stay out of trouble." 
          "You know me, Frase." Ray laughed as the Mountie entered the
room and inclined his head to Storm, removing his Stetson politely. 
          "Hello, Miss. BlackFeather. Thank you for coming to Ray's aid so
quickly." Storm nodded and started to move away from Ray reluctantly. 
          "I'll let you two visit." She offered moving toward the door. 
           Both men thanked her and she left the room, leaning against the
door wistfully as it closed behind her. She flexed the fingers of her
right hand, remembering the feel of his brief touch and sighed. He had
been cool to the touch and his usually strong hands seemed weak in her
grip. She remembered how those hands had carried her when she had hurt her
ankle that first day. 
        How they had offered her aunt tissues to dry her tears, how he
used his hands to express his feelings, anger, joy, and disbelief. She
could fall in love with just Ray's hand's easily, but there were so many
other endearing qualities as well. 
          His feline grace in the very way he moved, like a nimble panther
stalking casually across his terrain. He gave the appearance of nonchalant
ease yet there was a subtle danger lying just beneath his calm exterior.
His crooked smile that could express a multitude of feeling, sarcasm, wit,
pleasure, charm, warning and challenge all visible in his appetizingly
full lips. His flashing eyes, the color of heated blue steel, sparkled
with intensity unlike anything Storm had ever seen that rivaled the
brightest stars in the sky. 
        He wore his emotions outward, some would consider a man him weak
for such a display, but Sehra thought it just added to his masculinity.
Ray was not afraid to feel or to show those feelings and that made him
twice the man of any others around him. He was fueled by a deliberate
passion that seemed to have no stable grounding, only the need to fly free
in whatever situation or manner it deemed necessary. He was impulsive and
bold with an uncertainty that equalized his witty confidence, making him
brave but not foolish. 
          However Ray did not seem to reciprocate her feelings and she
knew she might have to deal with the fact that she would have to try and
forget him and move on. She had already convinced her aunt to allow her to
stay awhile longer, giving herself time to be sure that there would never
be anything between her and the detective. 

          "Ray, you have to take it easy." Sehra Brook warned after Fraser
left and she was alone again with the detective. "You can't keep up this
pace." 
          "I feel fine, Doc." Ray insisted and Sehra shook her head. 
          "You are not fine." She stated. "Ray, we have to run more tests,
I believe that the tumor may be growing again." Ray stared at her. 
          "I thought the radiation..." he began. 
          "Sometimes it kills off the remaining cells, but as I told you
it may not." Sehra explained. "We have to run more tests and..." 
          "I don't want anymore tests done damnit!" Ray exclaimed then
forced himself to calm down. "I...I'm sorry. I...I just...I guess I was
starting to get my hopes up that..." 
          "Of course you were." She offered gently. "That is normal. But I
did tell you the surgery and radiation was not a cure, it may only give
you time." Ray nodded. 
          "I...I know." He sighed. "I...I've just felt so good the last
few weeks I thought..." he shook his head. "So what do I have to do now?" 
          "We'll run another CT scan and see what we can find." She
replied. "Are you going to tell anyone if the tumor has returned?" Ray
shook his head. 
          "I haven't decided yet." He acknowledged. "First things first I
guess." Sehra nodded and went to schedule his tests. 
  

          Vecchio was back. What the hell should he do now? Ray Kowalski
slumped against the chair outside the hospital room, waiting for Fraser to
reappear. This was great, just great, like he didn't have enough to deal
with and now he was about to loose his best friend and partner. He dropped
his head in his hands, running his fingers through the familiar thick
blond spikes that had grown back awhile ago to their original disorganized
state. Vecchio. Why couldn't he have waited just a little while longer to
return? Why did Fraser have to see him at that hotel and blow his cover? 
          He sighed and sat up, leaning his head against the wall behind
him. Storm BlackFeather had returned home a few weeks earlier, Ray had
tried to be accommodating to her, but he could not in good conscience
develop a relationship with her, despite how she felt about him. Fraser
had argued with him, but Ray could only pretend that he simply didn't feel
that way about the native woman, denying himself any of what she had to
offer. 
         Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe it would be better this way,
Fraser would have Vecchio back and then Kowalski could just fade into the
background, never having to explain....Ray shook his head. He couldn't do
that to Fraser. He owed him the truth; he just hadn't gathered the nerve
to tell the Mountie about his condition. He closed his eyes and replayed
his conversation with Sehra Brook just a couple of short months before. 
          "So the Cancer is back?" he confirmed and she nodded sadly. Ray
wet his lips and pulled his hand from hers, rising to walk across the soft
carpet of her office to stare out at the city below. "Will, will I be a
vegetable?" Sehra rose and went to stand behind him, allowing him the
space he needed and not giving into her instincts to pull him into her
embrace and protect him. 
         "No, I don't think so." She denied. "Most times you experience
good days and bad days, much like the symptoms you have been going
through, vomiting, headaches, fatigue. Sometimes you'll feel perfectly
fine and healthy." She bit her lips and forced herself to continue. "Some
people, toward the end experience blindness, confusion and delusions. Some
go into a coma for a short while and some go in their sleep." 
         "So...so it won't hurt?" Ray asked, then blushed sheepishly. "Not
dat I'm afraid of pain, hell workin' wit Fraser I've had my share I
just..." Sehra then decided to break her promise not to touch him, as she
settled firm hands on his shoulders and rubbed them soothingly. Most
people were afraid of a painful death; Ray had nothing to be ashamed of. 
         "I don't think it will, Ray." She admitted. "I can only assume
it's peaceful from those I have seen and stories related to me." He
nodded. 
          "What about another surgery?" he suggested, grasping at straws.
"More radiation treatments?" 
          "I don't honestly think it will help, Ray." She stated
regretfully. "But you can get a second opinion." Ray shook his head; he'd
already gone to a crowd of doctors and specialist at her insistence when
he was first diagnosed, to assure her diagnosis was the correct one. Ray
was ready to trust her on this; she wouldn't lie to him at this stage in
the game. 
          "So...how long?" he asked defeated. 
          "Judging by the rate of growth found on your original tumor,
possibly three to four months, maybe a little longer." She confirmed and
watched him release a shaky breath as his fingers gripped the windowsill
beneath him. 
          "Oh God!" he murmured painfully. "Sweet Jesus!" Sehra noticed he
had started to hyperventilate and she made him sit down and breath into a
small paper bag she had just for such an occasion. It was ironic how many
people tended to forget to breathe when they discovered they were dying. 
          "I...I'm okay." He finally whispered pushing the bag away.
"I...I just gotta...I gotta think I...." 
          "It's okay, Ray." She assured kneeling before him. "Do whatever
you feel like doing, let it out, baby." Ray shook his head defiantly, not
wanting to give into the chaos that he was suddenly overwhelmed with, but
even he was not strong enough to stop the betrayal of angry tears from
sliding down his pale cheeks. Sehra wrapped her arms around him and pulled
him to her, allowing him to cry against her as he returned her embrace
desperately. 
          "I...I have to go." He murmured suddenly, pushing her away and
standing up. 
          "Ray, let me call Fraser." She suggested, not wanting him to be
alone at this time. 
          "NO!" he refused furious. "I...I don't need him. I'm...I'll be
okay. I...I just have to get out of here. I can't breath I can't..." He
shook his head desperately and bolted from the room as Sehra stared after
him helplessly. 
          Ray had left the GTO parked at the clinic and walked for hours
around Chicago, not going anywhere in particular, but needing to just keep
moving. When he finally returned to get his car, it dark and he slowly
drove home, entered his apartment and cried himself to sleep. 
          Now, here he sat, waiting for yet another boom to fall, another
heart wrenching change to happen. Fraser would be leaving him he
understood that. Vecchio was back, they no longer needed Ray and Ray was
now out of a job, out of the life that he had come to cherish the life
that belonged to another man. He glanced up as Fraser finally exited the
room. 
          "So." Ray remarked nervously after Fraser informed him about
Muldoon. "We still partners?" 
              "If you'll have me?" Fraser requested quietly and Ray felt
his heart leap in his chest. For the second time he was given another
chance, additional time to get things right and he couldn't even find the
words he needed to say how much he wanted to have Fraser as his partner.
Instead he inclined his head and the pair was off on yet another
adventure. 
  

         "Would you care for some more stew, Ray?" Fraser offered as the
cold north wind howled around their tiny hand built shelter. Ray shook his
head, indicating his still half-full plate. 
         "I'm good, Buddy." He assured as he offered the remainder of his
stew to Diefenbaker who was waiting next to him for the treat. "Couldn't
eat another bite." 
         "Was the meal not satisfactory, Ray?" Fraser inquired anxiously.
"I know my cooking is not the greatest but..." He had been worried that
his friend had not been eating enough lately and loosing weight, something
Ray could not afford to do in this desolate wilderness. 
         "Yer cookin's fine, Frase." Ray quickly assured. "I'm just not
real hungry." Fraser watched him settle back against his backpack and
bedroll, his ever-observant eyes noting the slightest difference in his
friends' color or appearance. 
         Ray had confided in him about his life-threatening tumor just
shortly before they decided to go on their quest. Fraser of course had
argued that Ray should be back in Chicago where the doctors could help
him, but the detective was insistent. He had his fill of doctors, tests,
hospitals and the like. He wanted to go on an adventure with Fraser, he
wanted to spend whatever time he had left with the Mountie and Fraser was
both flattered and concerned for Ray's well being. 
         At first Fraser had been angry with Ray for waiting so long to
tell him, angrier still when he found out that the detective had still not
told his parents before they had left to chase Muldoon. He was being
irresponsible. How could he not tell those who cared for him that he was
dying? Ray was stubborn, he would do it his way and nothing Fraser said or
did would change that. 
         Fraser tried not to comment on Ray's lack of appetite, his easy
fatigue despite the detective's bravado to keep going. Ray was always in
good spirits, whether it was natural or he was putting up a front for
Fraser's benefit the Mountie couldn't be sure. Now and then Ray would say
something totally out of the blue that had no relation to what they might
have been speaking of, then not seem to even be aware he had said anything
at all, continuing the conversation as though there had never been a break
from topic. 
        Sometimes Ray would see things that were not there; due either to
the snow blindness or his illness itself and sometimes Ray would carry on
complete conversations with himself as though Fraser was not even present.
More than once Ray called Fraser Barry or Tom and the Mountie pretended
not to hear the difference or ask who these people might be. 
         Fraser rarely saw him ill physically, other than frequent
headaches that he seemed to endure and Fraser would offer to rub and help
relieve the soreness in his neck and shoulders. Fraser was loosing his
best friend and the idea was playing havoc with his emotions. He promised
he would not show his distress in front of his partner, but whenever Ray
was asleep, Fraser often wandered off to quietly cry or deal with his
barely contained anger. It wasn't fair, Ray was so young, so vibrant, he
should not have to die this way. 
         "Frase?" Ray asked quietly, bringing the Mountie back to the
present. He forced a smile to his lips and glanced over at his friend.
"You okay? You looked kind of far away for a minute dere." 
         "Just thinking about how long it should take us to get to
Inuvick, Ray." He lied easily as he washed out their dishes with a cloth
and the clean snow around them. "We should be there late tomorrow." Ray
smiled. 
         "Great, I need a shower." He decided and Fraser smiled for real
this time. 
         "You could just remove your clothes and roll in the snow Ray." He
suggested and the look the blond tossed him pretty much conveyed what he
thought of that particular activity. 
         "I am not a Penguin, seal or any other type of...what was dat
bird you told me about?" 
         "Puffin?" 
         "Yah, or one of those." Ray replied. "Besides, I think it's time
ta head home buddy." 
         "My Father's cabin is a good week away Ray." Fraser explained.
"But I suppose we could..." 
         "No no." Ray reiterated. "I mean my home, Ben. Chicago." Fraser
stared at him, unwilling to see the meaning in the steel blue eyes that
gazed back at him. Ray had used his first name, perhaps a slip of the
tongue or something more, either reason suddenly made Fraser
uncomfortable. 
         "You aren't enjoying your time here?" he deliberately
misunderstood and Ray shook his head. 
         "No, I...It's been great, Fraser." He assured. "I've had fun,
spendin' time with you and Dief, lookin' fer dat hand. But, I got things I
gotta take care of." He glanced meaningfully at his partner, willing him
to understand so he wouldn't have to say it aloud. "It's time to go home,
Buddy." 
         "Oh Ray." Fraser whispered regretfully. "I...." It was too soon,
Fraser's mind screamed, and then he forced himself to calm down.
"Certainly Ray. I believe we can catch a plane in Inuvick." 
         "Good, dat's good Ben." Ray sighed and settled back against his
bedroll again, unaware of his friend's thoughtful appraisal. 
  

         "That was an enjoyable evening, was it not, Ray?" Fraser asked as
they entered Ray's apartment and removed their coats and shook the snow
from their hats and hair. Diefenbaker shook his fur and quickly went to
settle beside the sofa. Ray had seemed tired all evening, but he was very
cheerful as they attended the precinct's Christmas party. They had arrived
back from Canada just two weeks before and here it was already Christmas
Eve and Ray seemed in great spirits. 
          Ray had finally confided in his parents about his illness and
neither took the news well. His Father became furious, both at ray for not
telling them sooner and over the idea that this was happening to his son.
Barbara Kowalski was quiet for a long time, before she finally broke down
and sobbed openly, professing her undying love for her son as though he
were already gone. Ray took it in stride and declined both his parents'
offer that hey should move in to watch him, he had Fraser, he was a big
boy, and he would be fine. 
         "The best, Benton, Buddy." Ray agreed as he set their selection
of gifts under the small tabletop tree in the corner. "Frannie was lookin'
hot." 
         "She did look enchanting." Fraser agreed, ignoring his friend's
wink as he hung up their coats in the closet, while ray dropped down on
the sofa and ruffled the wolf's fur affectionately. 
         "Com'ere buddy, I wanna talk to you." Fraser moved to settle
beside him, glad that he had chosen to wear his casuals to the party and
thus would be more comfortable the remainder of the evening. "You goin'
back to Canada?" 
         "Eventually yes." Fraser confirmed, wondering where that question
had come from. "It is my home." 
         "You gonna try to look fer the hand of Franklin again?" Ray
teased and Fraser smiled. 
         "Perhaps when you are feeling better we can both return to..." he
began but Ray cut him off. 
         "I won't be going back with you, Frase." He informed gently. "You
already know that don't you?" Fraser hesitated then lowered his eyes and
nodded sadly. 
         "Yes, Ray." He returned quietly. "I understand that." 
         "I do feel better than I have in awhile, though." Ray offered.
"That's something right?" Fraser nodded. "I have some things I want ya to
do fer me." 
         "Of course, Ray." Fraser agreed readily, knowing he would do
anything for his friend. 
         "Well, I know ya ain't into jewelry and stuff, other than yer
Dad's watch." Ray explained as Fraser watched the detective remove his
silver bracelet from his wrist and gently snap it around Fraser's own
flesh. "I want ya to wear this, kinda to remember me by. It always brought
me luck and I'd like you to have it." 
         "I...Ray I..." Fraser was speechless as he gently fingered the
charm with trembling fingers. "I...I don't know what to say. I don't need
this to remember you, you are my best friend, I shall always remember
you." 
         "That's great, Fraser." Ray sighed, resting his head on his palm
as he propped his elbow on the back of the sofa. "Glad ya think so. So
will you wear it then?" 
         "O...of course, Ray." Fraser managed blinking back his tears. 
         "Good." Ray decided pleased. "The other thing is I want you to be
the one to tell Stella and my folks. I know it will be hard, but I'd
rather they hear it from you when the time comes." Fraser could only nod
words refused to form through the large lump that was suddenly
constricting his throat. "Greatness. Two more things then I'll be done.
Dere are four envelopes on my dresser in the bedroom, one fer my folks,
one fer Frannie, Stella and one fer you, but I don't want ya anyone to
open dem until New Year's day, okay? Make sure dey understand that, Buddy,
don't read them until then, okay?" Fraser nodded slowly. "Okay, this one
is real important, Ben." 
         "Ray don't..." Fraser began, unable to help the fear rising
within him, even as Ray gently placed his hand over the Mounties's and
gave him a reassuring squeeze. 
         "Don't interrupt, Buddy." He warned softly and Fraser could see
the moisture mirrored in the blonde's eyes. "When you wake up tomorrow, I
want ya to take Dief for a nice long walk around the park, maybe fer an
hour or more." 
         "Ray why...?" 
         "When you come back." Ray continued as though Fraser had not
spoken. "I want ya to call Vecchio and ask him to come over here, then sit
on the sofa until he gets here, okay?" Fraser shook his head as he
realized why Ray was telling him all this. 
         "Ray please...I...I can't! Let me..." 
         "Fraser this is important, okay." Ray Inforced firmly. "I want
someone here with you, okay?" 
         "It's too soon, Ray!" Fraser refused. "Please, we...we can stay
up and talk we...we can play a game we can...I can stay with you
and...please don't do this to me, Ray." 
         "Benton, buddy." Ray soothed the anxious Mountie. "It needs to be
this way. I thought a lot about this and it's how I want it." 
         "No!" Fraser bolted to his feet and wiped the tears away from his
eyes angrily. "Why should you be so brave? Why do you want to die alone?" 
         "I'm not alone, Fraser." Ray promised, remaining seated. "I've
never been alone, not since I met you. Com'ahn Frase, let me off the hook
on this one okay? Do it my way, please?" 
     "Ray you don't know what you are asking...I can't..." 
         "I  know exactly what I am asking and I know it will be hard, but
you have to promise me, Buddy." Ray insisted. "Do it as I ask, okay? Take
Dief for a walk then call Vecchio." Fraser slumped down in the opposing
chair. 
         "I...I...alright Ray." He finally agreed his promise sounded
hollow and angry, but it was enough for Ray, who nodded and finally stood
up. 
         "Good." He moved to the kitchen and pulled out some sodas then
went about preparing popcorn in the microwave. "We'll watch It's a
Wonderful Life on the T.V, eat some popcorn, maybe you'll sing some
Christmas carols for me, then we'll both go to bed." Fraser nodded
reluctantly. 
         So, that was what they did, they sat and enjoyed each other's
company as they watched the movie and ate popcorn. Fraser convinced Ray to
stay and watch A Christmas Carol with him, so the detective agreed.
Afterwards, when Ray started tidying up, Fraser suggested now they should
sing the songs but Ray said it was getting late. He knew the Mountie was
trying to prolong their time together and Ray couldn't really blame him,
but he was getting more and more tired and it was getting harder for him
to think straight. 
         "Time fer bed, Benton, Buddy." He insisted. "Pitter Patter or
Santa won't come." 
         "It's still early, Ray." Fraser protested. "Why don't we play a
game?" 
         "I can't Fraser." Ray refused gently. "I'm sorry but it's time to
go to bed." Fraser moved with lightening speed across the living room and
caught Ray's arm just outside the bedroom. 
         "Please, Ray." He begged. "Let me stay with you. I won't speak or
do anything to disturb you, but please let me..." 
         "Buddy don't do this." Ray sighed exasperated. "I can't think
straight as it is and I don't have the energy to fight. You promised to do
it my way, yer a Mountie, how can ya break yer promise?" 
         "I don't care about the damn promise!" Fraser exclaimed
desperately.  "Ray...I..." 
         "Fraser." Ray said softly as he pried the Mounties's fingers from
his arm. "I love you Buddy. It will be okay, I promise." Fraser started
shaking and Ray was forced to pull him into his embrace. 
         "Don't leave me, Ray." He pleaded half hysterically, uncaring if
his disciplined composure was shot or if he was acting like a fool. "I
love you, please don't leave me." Ray blinked back his own tears. 
         "I'm not leaving, Ben." He vowed as he pulled away to place his
hand on Fraser's rapidly beating heart. "I'll always be here, right here
with you." Fraser sniffed and allowed Ray to move away from him. "Say good
night Benton buddy." 
         "G...good night Ray, my friend." Fraser finally managed and it
was the hardest words he had ever had to voice. He stepped aside
reluctantly so Ray could enter the bedroom and close the door. 
         Fraser watched Diefenbaker paw at the door and whine in protest
and Fraser felt like doing the same thing himself. He finally led the wolf
away and went to settle back on the sofa. He knew he would not sleep this
night, nor would his wolf, so he made himself as comfortable as possible
and waited for dawn to come. In his mind he replayed all the adventures he
and Ray Kowalski had shared, the good times and the bad times they had
come through. 
         When the soft glow of morning began to light the apartment,
Fraser rose and rinsed the tear tracks from is tired face over the kitchen
sink. He glanced down at Diefenbaker then at the door to Ray's bedroom.
Blinking away a fresh gathering of tears he retrieved his coat and Stetson
and opened the front door to lead the pitiful wolf from the apartment. 
         He did not take Diefenbaker to the park, instead he walked to the
Vecchio's, which was almost the same distance had he went to the park for
an hour. He settled on the steps and waited, not willing to wake up anyone
in the house. Diefenbaker paced for awhile back and forth, then settled
beside him sadly. When Ray Vecchio opened his front door to let the spirit
of Christmas Day in, as was their tradition, he found the Mountie and wolf
asleep against the porch railing. In his heart he knew why they were there
and he returned inside to dress. 

The End 

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