All Due South characters belong to Alliance. Linda, thank you so much.
This story is rated PG.  

Feedback is always a good thing BiermannR@home.com  Time Passages by
Ruthie Biermann 

The call came in of a shooting at a local neighborhood bar. As they were
two blocks away from the scene, Detective Stanley Raymond Kowalski and his
unofficial partner, Constable Benton Fraser quickly responded.	

As they pulled up to the small tavern, they found uniformed police
officers attempting to hold sway over a growing throng of spectators. The
front window had been shattered, and a body covered by a blood stained
sheet was clearly visible lying next to the bar. As he and Fraser entered
the premises, Ray flashed his ID carefully scanning the room and taking
note of the disarray. Diefenbaker came trotting in after them, immediately
approaching the sheet and sniffing around it. 

"Dief's worse than you are," Ray said to Fraser as he watched the wolf,
frowning. 

"Well, he is a wolf, Ray. Most of what he learns from a situation is
garnered through his sense of smell," Fraser explained. 

"Well, tell him to garnish somewhere else," Ray countered. 

"Garner, Ray." 

"Yeah, whatever." 

At that moment a uniformed officer approached them and explained what had
gone down just minutes prior to their arrival. He told them that earlier
that day a patron had been thrown out of the bar for being disorderly, but
returned an hour later equipped with a gun, revenge on his mind. A few of
the patrons had tried to subdue the gunman, but not before he managed to
discharge the weapon, killing a customer in the process. The victim was a
regular who had been sitting by himself on the far side of the bar. As the
cop related the details, he pointed to the covered body lying on the floor
a few feet away. 

"Where's the perp now?" Ray asked. 

"Got away in all the commotion. But this is a neighborhood bar...I'm
pretty sure the regulars know who he is...they're just not talking. Don't
know if they're scared or protecting him," the officer speculated. 

"Yeah, thanks," Ray muttered as he eyed the blood stained sheet.  

Taking a deep breath, he approached the body, slowly bending over and
lifting the sheet to peer underneath. What he saw caused him to gasp
audibly, drawing the attention of Fraser and the police officer. Ray fell
to his knees dropping the sheet, his hands covering his face. 

"Oh God," he moaned quietly, now running the fingers of both his hands
through his hair. 

"Ray, what is it? Do you know him?" Fraser asked concerned leaning over
Ray, his hand on his shoulder. 

Ray didn't respond. He remained where he was, shaking his head slowly,
repeating, "Oh God." 

"Ray, please...." 

Suddenly Ray rose to his feet and turned quickly, slamming into Fraser,
almost knocking him to the floor. Pausing momentarily to determine that
Fraser was all right, he turned and sprinted out of the bar, followed by
an excited Diefenbaker. 

"Ray!" Fraser called out loudly, as he watched the blonde detective turn
and disappear from view once he exited the bar. 

"What's with your partner?" the officer asked, confusion showing on his
face. 

"I have no idea," Fraser responded as he ran after his partner and his
wolf. 

Once outside the tavern, Fraser turned in the same direction Ray had, and
saw Diefenbaker standing at the entrance to an alley on the side of the
building. The wolf was frantically turning his head back and forth between
Fraser and the alley, barking excitedly. As he approached Dief, the wolf
took off down the alley, Fraser quickly following. It didn't take long for
him to come upon his partner. Ray was hunched over, seemingly holding
himself up by hanging onto a chain link fence, violently throwing his
lunch up in the bushes. 

Fraser again put his hand on Ray's shoulder, not speaking, waiting for his
partner to compose himself. After a few minutes, Ray stood upright and
Fraser handed him a handkerchief.  

"Thanks, Frase," Ray whispered hoarsely as he wiped his mouth. Fraser was
stunned to see tears in Ray's eyes. Obviously, his partner knew the man
who lay dead in the bar. 

"Who is he, Ray?" Fraser asked quietly. 

Ray's damp eyes spilled over into streaming tears, which he quickly wiped
away with his sleeve. He looked at Fraser, who's arm was still on his
shoulder, noting the concern on his face. 

"Um, he....he's a....he was...an old friend from when I was a kid. I
haven't seen him in a long time. He saved my life once." Upon saying those
words, Ray again couldn't hold back the tears, covering his eyes with his
hand, but managing to quickly compose himself. 

He turned away from Fraser. 

"Sorry, Frase," he said as he started up the alley, reluctantly returning
to the tavern. Fraser walked alongside, saying nothing, Diefenbaker
following. When they reached the street, Ray saw the Coroner's truck
parked in front of the bar, waiting to remove his friend's body. He stood
and watched the hustle of the investigation before him, uncertain whether
he could get through it. 

"Ray, maybe we should call Huey and Dewey in," Fraser suggested, noting
Ray's reluctance. 

"No, Fraser. I have to do this," Ray sighed. 

"What about his family?" Fraser asked.	

"He was alone." Ray replied quietly. "I shoulda been there for him." 

Fraser watched as Ray made his way towards one of the uniformed officers
while averting his eyes from the crime scene. The officer pointed to some
people standing next to a police car. Ray looked over, nodded and walked
towards the small group of people while retrieving his notepad from his
jacket pocket. Fraser surmised they were patrons of the bar when the crime
had occurred. He watched as Ray spoke to the small group of people,
jotting down notes in his pad. After a few moments, he approached Ray and
stood behind him while he interrogated the witnesses. Apparently, they had
all said they saw nothing, and Fraser noted that Ray was becoming
agitated. 

"What do you mean you didn't see anything? You just said you were in the
bar when the shooter came in." He paused and turned his attention to one
man in particular. "And you said you were there earlier when he was
arguing with the bartender." 

"Hey, man, I don't pay attention to nuthin' but my beer. If he wasn't
swimming in my glass, I didn't see him." 

Ray shook his head. "Yeah, okay. I want all of you to give your name,
address and phone number to that officer over there." He pointed to one of
the uniformed cops. 

Ray turned around to find Fraser standing behind him. "The uniform was
right...they're either protecting the shooter or they're scared of him." 

"Well, Ray, I suspect they're frightened, as they also knew your friend
and would want to see justice done. They're probably afraid they might be
next." 

"This sucks, Fraser." Ray walked back to the GTO and got into the driver's
seat, waiting for Fraser and Diefenbaker. 

There was silence in the car as they drove to the precinct, Fraser finally
speaking. 

"Who was he, Ray?" he asked quietly. 

Ray glanced over towards Fraser, then back out the windshield. He sighed. 

"His name is....was Tony Dillon. He owned a bakery in my old neighborhood
when I was a kid. A really nice guy...used to give us kids free donuts
after school. My Mom never knew why I didn't wanna eat dinner...never told
her it was Tony. Didn't wanna spoil a good thing." Ray smiled sadly at the
memory. 

"You said he saved your life once."  

"Yeah. I was fifteen and was leaving his bakery. It happened real fast. An
old guy was driving around the corner and lost control of his car. He
drove up on the sidewalk and was coming right at me. My back was to the
street 'cause I was talking to Tony, so I didn't see him. But Tony saw him
and pushed me outta the way. The car sideswiped him and broke his leg. I
mean, I was standing right in the path of that old man's car. If it wasn't
for Tony...." Ray's voice trailed off. 

"I'm sorry, Ray." Fraser said as he watched Ray's face. 

"Yeah, me too." 

"So, you hadn't seen him in a while?"  

"Nah, I grew up, left the neighborhood, ya know....you lose contact. While
my parents were still living here, my Mom would talk about people from the
old neighborhood and she used to tell me how he and his wife were doing.
She told me his wife died about seven years ago. I think probably he never
got over that 'cause I remember he and his wife were always together. She
worked with him at the bakery. I always hoped Stella and me would be like
them. You see people married a long time, they snap at each other. But
they were always respectful of one another....I never heard them raise a
voice." Ray paused and shook his head. "I didn't even go to the funeral." 

"You said you had lost contact." 

"Yeah, but.... I dunno, I shoulda gone. I guess I was too busy working on
my marriage to think about my old neighborhood friends." 

"What about children?" Fraser asked. 

"My Mom told me they had a son who woulda been around my age if he didn't
die from Leukemia when he was five. I think I reminded them of
him....guess that's why they both took such a liking to me." Ray looked
over to Fraser. "I'm gonna make sure he gets a decent funeral, Fraser."
Turning his eyes back out the windshield he whispered, "It's the least I
can do." 

Fraser saw that Ray was hurting, but he was at a loss as to what he could
say to help his partner. 

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

When they reached the precinct, Ray immediately picked up the phone to
make arrangements for Tony Dillon's funeral. He hung up the receiver just
as Welsh was calling him and Fraser into his office. 

"So what do you have?" Welsh asked, leaning back in his chair. 

"Um, well, a sixty-five year old man was killed by a shooter in a
neighborhood bar on Jackson. The shooter was thrown out earlier by the
bartender and came back with his gun...the other patrons were trying to
stop him when the gun went off. Don't know if it was accidental or not.
The perp got away.....he and the vic were both regulars of the bar but no
one's talking." Ray spoke in a monotone as he recited the information. 

"No one? You got no description of the shooter?" Welsh asked annoyed. 

"Uh, no sir," Ray replied nervously. 

"So, what you're saying, Detective, is even though everyone in that bar
saw the shooter, you got no description and no other leads." Welsh
confirmed, his brow furrowed. 

"Nothing yet. But I will," Ray said, determination apparent on his face. 

"Well, something else has come up that I'd like you to handle, so I want
you to turn this case over to Huey and Dewey," Welsh said as he opened a
file on his desk. 

"No, sir," Ray immediately replied 

"No?" Welsh was looking at Ray, blinking his eyes in surprise at Ray's
response. 

"I mean, I'd like to stay on this case....I can do both of them," Ray
explained. 

Fraser watched the discourse between his partner and his partner's
commanding officer. He knew Welsh wouldn't allow Ray to remain on a case
that was personal to him. And he also knew that Ray wouldn't want to
reveal that information for the same reason. 

"You got a big enough caseload as it is, Detective," Welsh said gruffly.
"I want you to concentrate on this armed robbery...the other case goes to
Huey and Dewey," he ordered. 

"Lieu...." 

"Those are my orders," Welsh said, his eyes on the open file in front of
him. "Now....." 

"No," Ray said quietly, his determination dissolving into defiance. 

Fraser couldn't believe what he had just heard. He never saw Ray defy his
superior. Ray didn't have much respect for authority, but he was always
respectful of Lieutenant Welsh. 

Welsh looked over to Fraser, who quickly shifted his eyes to the floor.
Then he turned his attention back to Ray. 

"No? No what, Detective?" He spoke quietly, apparent he was controlling
his temper. 

"I, um....I....I wanna stay on this case, sir. I can do both," Ray stated
with conviction, his eyes trained on his superior. 

"All right, Kowalski. Why are you so adamant about staying on this case?" 


"I just think I can do a better job than Huey and Dewey," Ray half lied.
He did feel he could do a better job, but that wasn't the reason he wanted
to remain on the case. 

Welsh studied Ray, his eyes narrowed. It was evident to Fraser that the
lieutenant didn't believe him. 

"Sorry, Detective, that's not a good enough," he said. "You're off the
case." 

"I said no, sir." Ray's voice wavered slightly. 

Welsh was having a hard time keeping his temper in tow...it was teetering
just below the surface now. He had had a bad morning, and Ray was giving
him a bad afternoon. 

"Detective, I don't have time for this. You give me a good reason why you
wanna stay on this case and I might let you keep it." He was being very
patient with Ray, Fraser thought. 

Ray shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his hands in his pockets. He didn't
want to lie to Welsh, but he didn't have a good enough excuse. He decided
to tell him the truth, hoping his superior could relate to his need to
solve this particular crime. 

"I knew the victim," he said quietly. 

Welsh's eyebrow went up. "How?" 

"Well, um, he's from my old neighborhood. I knew him when I was a kid,"
Ray explained. 

"That's it....someone you used to know? I get the feeling there's more to
this," Welsh said. 

Ray hesitated. "Well...I haven't seen him in a long time, but he was good
people and I wanna find the shooter." Ray tried not to allow his voice to
display his emotions. 

"So, you're telling me this is personal," Welsh concluded. 

"No, sir, it's not like that. I just have some interest, ya know, to find
his killer....." 

"Look, Kowalski, I understand what you're saying. You knew this guy, he
was a good guy, he didn't deserve what he got. But you're too close to
this case...you're off." 

"I'm not too close......" Ray began to argue, his voice raised. 

"This discussion is over, Detective," Welsh barked. "Now I want you to
take this file and read it...this case is your priority now." He closed
the file folder and held it out for Ray. "Give your notes on the shooting
to Huey and fill him in. You can tell him to keep you apprised." 

Fraser nervously watched as Ray stood looking at the file in his
superior's hand. An uncomfortable few moments passed before Ray finally
took the folder from Welsh.  

"Is that all, sir?" Ray asked, a distinct edge to his voice. 

"Yes, Detective." Welsh continued to look at Ray. 

Ray turned on his heel and stormed out of the office. The lieutenant and
Fraser watched through the office window as he dropped the file on his
desk and almost sprinted out of the bull pen. 

Welsh turned to Fraser. "He okay?" he asked. 

Fraser ran his thumbnail along his eyebrow. "Well, no, sir, not really." 

"So he was close to the victim?" Welsh asked, his concern apparent. 

"He was at one time. The victim...his name was Tony Dillon....had pulled
Ray from the path of an oncoming car when he was fifteen years old. Ray is
feeling guilty now that he allowed their relationship to lapse." Fraser
felt it best to tell Welsh something of the situation, as he knew Welsh
thought of Ray as a friend. 

"Well, that explains his behavior. I need you to watch him, Constable.
Huey and Dewey can let him know how the case is progressing, but I don't
want him involved. He's just too close," he said adamantly. 

"Yes sir," Fraser replied, not too certain he could keep Ray from doing
anything he set his mind to. 

"Thank you, Constable." Welsh turned his attention back to the papers on
his desk. "Close the door on your way out, will you?" 

"Yes, sir," Fraser repeated as he turned to leave the office. 

When Fraser came out of Welsh's office he saw Ray return to the bullpen
with coffee in hand. He watched Ray place the coffee on his desk, retrieve
his notes and walk over to Huey. Ray handed the notes to the other
detective and briefed him on the case. Fraser could make out bits and
pieces of what was being said, hearing Huey say he would keep Ray informed
before he returned to his desk. 

Ray sat down and opened the file Welsh had given him when he looked up to
find Fraser studying him. 

"What?" he asked, an expression of wonder on his face. 

"Are you all right, Ray?" Fraser asked, concerned. 

"Yeah, I'm great....Couldn't be better," he remarked sarcastically. 

"Leftenant Welsh did what he thought was right....." 

"I don't need a lecture from you now, Fraser. You want me to fill you in
on this case or not?" Ray barked. 

"I'm not lecturing you, Ray, but I know you feel you should remain on that
case...." 

"Frase, you staying or leaving?" Ray interrupted impatiently. 

Fraser paused. "I need to return to the Consulate now, but perhaps you can
fill me in later." 

"Okay, yeah," Ray's eyes were again on the open folder in front of him. He
looked up at Fraser. "I guess we can do dinner....I'll tell you about it
then. That okay?" 

"Yes, Ray, it's fine. So....." 

"So, I'll see you later," Ray said, returning his attention to the file. 

"All right, Ray. I'll see you later then." Fraser looked around for
Diefenbaker and found him lying by Francesca's desk. Realizing he hadn't
seen the civilian aide since he had arrived, Fraser assumed she was out to
lunch. He quickly motioned to Dief to leave before she returned. But the
wolf had other plans, whining loudly and remaining right where he was. 

Ray caught Dief's act of defiance. "Looks like Dief's got other plans,
Frase," he chuckled. Fraser couldn't help but notice the analogy between
Diefenbaker's behavior towards him and Ray's behavior towards his
lieutenant. Perhaps it was catching. 

"Well, Ray, that's unfortunate because he's going to accompany me to the
Consulate now," Fraser remarked slowly in Diefenbaker's direction,
allowing the wolf to easily read his lips. 

Dief whined as he slowly rose to his feet. 

"Thank you kindly," Fraser said to Dief as the wolf accompanied his
Mountie companion from the bullpen. 

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

The next few days were very difficult for Ray. He and Fraser worked on the
armed robbery case, but his heart and his mind were with the case
involving the murder of his old friend. He badgered Huey and Dewey trying
to ascertain how far they had progressed in their investigation,
constantly asking them if they had any leads. He came very close to
accusing them of giving their other cases priority over this one. Welsh
was aware of the situation, but stayed out of it...for the moment...at
least until after the funeral. He didn't want to agitate an already
anxious Kowalski. 

On the morning of the funeral Ray picked Fraser up at the Consulate, a
gray overcast day, one befitting the day's events Fraser noted. Ray was
unusually quiet during the drive to the funeral home. 

"Are you allright, Ray?" Fraser asked watching him as he drove, observing
the tightness in his jaw. 

"Yeah, fine, Frase...just wanna get today over with," he responded,
glancing briefly over to Fraser as he spoke. 

When they arrived, Ray noticed only three cars parked in the funeral home
parking lot. It just stressed the point that Tony Dillon had been alone
when he died. Ray had hoped some of the regulars from the bar might
attend, but he wouldn't have been surprised if none of them showed. He was
angry at those people, especially the bartender, as they all knew what the
shooter looked like....probably even knew his name...yet, none of them
would cooperate with police. He had asked Welsh if he could lean on the
bartender to try to get him to talk, but Welsh told him to leave it to
Huey and Dewey. Feeling he understood the bartender's fear, Ray disobeyed
Welsh's orders and had gone to the bar again, ensuring the bartender that
whatever he told him would be held in strictest confidence. But the man
merely shook his head stating he didn't get a good look at the shooter and
had no idea who he was. Ray had left the bar disgusted. He hadn't told
Fraser of his visit as he was well aware what the reaction of his
by-the-book partner would be. 

As they entered the front door they were immediately directed to the
appropriate room. Ray stopped at the condolence book and noticed four
names written there. He signed his and Fraser's names and walked into the
chapel, noting the closed coffin situated at the front of the room.
Glancing to the right, he recognized the bartender plus two of the
regulars seated in the front row. He didn't recognize the fourth man
sitting in the next row by himself, but he did notice that he was around
Tony's age. They approached the front of the chapel and also sat in the
front row across the aisle. 

Ray leaned over and whispered to Fraser. "Why the hell aren't Huey and
Dewey here?" he asked bitterly. "They should at least be here to try and
get some leads...it's their freakin' case." 

Fraser didn't feel Ray actually expected a response so he remained silent.
 

The service was short, the pastor reading a standard funeral service,
nothing very personal was said. The sermon included some information
supplied by Ray, but it was obvious no one had been close to this man
towards the end of his life. By the time the service was over, Ray felt as
if he were suffocating. Tony Dillon had requested cremation in his will,
so there would be no service at the cemetery. Ray took a deep breath as he
watched the other three men leave the chapel. He turned to Fraser. 

"Uh, Frase, you mind if I just stay here for a couple minutes by myself?"
he asked quietly. 

"No, Ray, of course not. I'll wait outside," Fraser said, noting the
sadness in his partner's eyes. 

He stood up to leave but Ray grabbed his arm, reaching into his jacket
pocket with his other hand. 

"Here, take the car keys. It's cold outside." 

Fraser smiled sadly. "Thanks, Ray." He took the keys and walked out of the
chapel. 

While Fraser waited in the car, he thought about his partner. Ray had been
deeply affected by Tony Dillon's murder. He understood Ray's need to solve
the case...to find his friend's killer....but he didn't really understand
why Ray felt so guilty. Yes, Tony had saved Ray's life when he was a
child, but Ray hadn't seen him for seventeen years...why did he feel so
responsible? He wanted to talk to Ray about it, but it was up to his
partner to bring the subject up, so he just followed Ray's lead, ready to
listen if he wanted to talk.  

Fraser's thoughts were interrupted when he noticed movement in his
peripheral vision. The older man who had been sitting alone in the chapel
was in his car watching him. Fraser couldn't read the expression on his
face..fear perhaps? He decided to write down the model and license number
of the car for Huey and Dewey to check out. As they still had no leads in
the case, this information might prove to be useful. He had no intention
of mentioning it to Ray. He knew his partner would insist on following up
the information himself, and Welsh had asked Fraser to ensure Ray did not
get involved due to his personal interest. 

The stranger started his car, Fraser watching furtively as the man kept
his eyes on him while he slowly drove past the GTO. Why was he staring at
him? He had a feeling this man might know something about the murder.  

A few minutes later Ray emerged from the funeral home, quickly walking
over to the GTO and sliding into the driver's seat. Noting the key was
already in the ignition, he started the car and drove out of the parking
lot in silence. Fraser followed his lead saying nothing, noting the
tenseness in Ray's demeanor. 

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

While at the precinct, Fraser waited for Ray to leave the bull pen before
approaching Huey with the information on the car and license plate. He
told Huey about the older man who was staring at him in the parking lot.
Huey took the opportunity to mention to Fraser his concern over Ray's
constant badgering over the Dillon case. Dewey, overhearing his partner,
stepped in to tell Fraser that he was losing patience with Ray, ordering
Fraser in no uncertain terms to keep him off their backs. Fraser allowed
Dewey to vent, after which he turned his attention back to Huey. 

"I just thought it might prove to be helpful," Fraser said. 

"Okay, thanks Fraser, I'll check it out in a few," Huey replied holding up
the paper. 

"Check what out?"  

Fraser and the two detectives turned to find Ray standing behind them, a
cup of coffee in his hand, an expression of curiosity on his face.  

Huey cleared his throat. "Uh, Ray, um...we uh....." He looked to Fraser
with pleading eyes. 

"Well, Ray....." Fraser tried to assist, but Dewey jumped in. 

"Fraser just gave us some information to check out on that case you're so
hot over," he remarked, almost gloating. 

Fraser suppressed the urge to punch Dewey in the mouth. He looked at Ray
expecting the worst. 

"What information, Fraser?" Ray asked, his jaw clenching. 

"Well, Ray.....while you were still in the chapel, one of the funeral
attendees was acting suspiciously in the parking lot, so I wrote down the
model and license number of his car just in case he was involved with the
shooting," he said quickly. 

"And you didn't tell me?" Ray asked in an accusing tone. 

"Ray, this is not your case," Fraser reminded him. "Leftenant Welsh does
not want you involved." 

"You're my partner, Fraser...you shoulda told me," Ray barked. 

"That's not the point," Fraser countered. 

"I don't give a shit what the point is....you really think these two are
gonna do anything with that information?" He gave a mocking glance over to
the other two detectives. 

"Now wait a minute....." Huey began to protest. 

"No, you wait a minute, " Ray shot back.  

"Kowalski, in my office, NOW!" Welsh bellowed from his doorway. Ray glared
at the two detectives and at Fraser before turning towards Welsh's office.


By the time he entered, the lieutenant was sitting behind his desk
appearing quite angry. 

"Close the door please, Detective," he growled. 

Ray closed the door and approached Welsh's desk, waiting for him to speak.


"I thought I told you to stay outta that case," he said looking up at the
blonde detective. 

Ray immediately became defensive. "The duck boys haven't done a damn thing
on that case....somebody's gotta solve it," he snapped. 

"Kowalski, you're getting on my nerves. You have your hands full with
other cases. Now, I don't want you bothering Huey and Dewey again
concerning this investigation. I said they could keep you apprised, but if
you continue to harass them, I'll take you out of the loop entirely. Now,
is that understood?" Welsh's eyes narrowed as he waited for a response. 

"Yeah." Ray's eyes drifted down to the floor. 

"Now, go out there and do what you're supposed to do," Welsh ordered. 

Ray turned and quickly exited the office. As he approached his desk he
noticed Huey walking out of the bullpen and Dewey talking on his phone.
Fraser was sitting in his usual chair in front of Ray's desk. 

"Ray......" 

"Forget it, Fraser," Ray interrupted. "We gotta work on this robbery." 

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

About forty-five minutes had passed since Ray's brief discussion with
Lieutenant Welsh. He and Fraser were sitting at Francesca's desk while she
looked up information on the computer, periodically printing out hard
copies for them. Ray occasionally glanced over to Dewey and Huey, a
disapproving look on his face. He was watching as Dewey answered his
ringing phone, and noticed him quickly rise to his feet trying to gain his
partner's attention. 

"We got a break in the Dillon case...let's go," Dewey said excitedly as he
hung up. 

As the two detectives rushed out of the bullpen, Ray ran to his chair to
retrieve his jacket. Quickly approaching the door, he found Fraser
blocking his path.  

"Ray, you can't do this," he warned. 

"Watch me," Ray countered, weaving around Fraser. Just as he passed
Francesca's desk he heard a familiar bellowing voice. 

"Kowalski!" 

Ray stopped short, hesitating for a moment trying to decide whether to
stay on his current course of action or abandon it. He opted for the
latter. 

Slowly turning around, he saw Welsh standing directly behind him. 

"And where are you off to in such a hurry, Detective?" Welsh asked,
feigning ignorance. 

"Um, well....I......" 

"All right, Kowalski. I think you need a little down time," Welsh
interrupted. "I want you to go home for the rest of the day and cool off."


Ray's eyes grew large. "But what about the robbery case....Fraser and I
are close....." 

 "I'm reassigning that case." Welsh cut in again. 

"You can't do that," Ray snapped. 

"You brought this on yourself, Detective. Now, I suggest you get your ass
outta here before I decide to keep you home for the rest of the week." 

Ray opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. He glanced over
to Fraser and Francesca, both watching the scenario before them. Slowly
shaking his head, he turned and walked out of the squad room. Welsh
addressed Fraser. 

"I don't wanna do this, but I'm afraid he's outta control." As he spoke he
glanced over towards Francesca whose attention was riveted on him and the
Mountie. 

"Don't you have something to do, Miss Vecchio?" he asked, motioning with
his head for her to leave. 

"Oh....uh...yes, sir. I have to, um...do something," she replied
nervously, and quickly scurried around her desk and ran out of the
bullpen. Both men watched her leave before Welsh spoke again. 

"Do you know why he feels so close to this case, Constable?" he asked,
obviously concerned for his young detective. 

"He hasn't spoken much about it, but I have the impression he somehow
feels responsible for Tony Dillon's death. The fact that he hadn't kept in
touch seems to be the reason, but it doesn't seem very logical," Fraser
speculated. 

"Well, Kowalski isn't exactly known to be Mr. Logic. Look, Constable,
you're friends with him and he needs you to help him get through this. I'm
asking you to please go to his apartment and, well.....keep an eye on him.
I'll clear the time off with Inspector Thatcher." 

"You needn't ask me, sir, I was planning to visit him after work. But as
you've so kindly offered to speak to the Inspector, I can go see him now."


"Thank you, Constable. Call me if you need my assistance," Welsh offered. 

"Yes sir, thank you," Fraser replied as he motioned to Diefenbaker who was
lying by Ray's desk. Turning to leave the squad room, Fraser took a deep
breath in anticipation of was in store for him when he reached Ray's
apartment. 

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

Fraser arrived at Ray's apartment building twenty minutes later. As he
walked towards the front entrance he noticed the GTO parked out front. At
least he's home. Reaching Ray's door, he could hear music playing inside.
Knocking loudly so Ray could hear him over the music, he waited a minute
and knocked again, the door suddenly swinging open. He didn't see Ray but
heard him speaking as the music was being turned down. 

"Come in, Fraser."  

Fraser walked in and closed the door. Ray was on the couch, his head
resting on the back.  

"How did you know it was me?" Fraser asked as he approached the couch.
Diefenbaker was already at Ray's feet, lying down between the couch and
the coffee table. 

"I recognized your knock," Ray replied. 

Fraser sat down, obviously confused. Ray looked over to him and smiled.
"I'm kidding, Fraser. I saw you out the front window." 

"Ah." 

"So I guess you're here to babysit me," Ray said, a smirk on his face. 

"Really, Ray, I wouldn't call it babysitting, you are a grown man after
all....." 

"I guess I been acting pretty unhinged these past few days," he said
sadly. 

"No. Well, yes you have, Ray," Fraser agreed. 

"Thanks, Frase." 

"Maybe we should talk about this...perhaps I can help you come to terms
with your feelings," Fraser offered. 

"I'm not even sure what my feelings are anymore," Ray replied, his eyes
watering. "All I know is that I feel guilty for abandoning a man I used to
think of as my second father." 

Fraser wasn't aware that Ray had felt that close to Tony Dillon. It helped
to explain his partner's intense emotional reaction to his death.  

"Ray, you didn't abandon......" 

At that moment Ray's cell phone rang. It appeared as if he had been
expecting a call as the phone was lying next to him on the couch. He
answered quickly. 

"Vecchio. Yeah...that's...that's great. Okay, yeah...thanks." 

He hung up the phone and rose to his feet.  

"Uh, sorry, Frase, but I gotta go," he started to walk towards the door. 

Fraser immediately stood and quickly positioned himself in front of Ray,
blocking his exit.  

"Who was that on the phone, Ray?" 

"Nobody Fraser. Outta my way," Ray replied as he continued towards the
door. 

Fraser backed up. "There's no way I'm allowing you to leave until you tell
me who that was on the phone and where you're going," Fraser demanded, his
eyes searing into Ray's. 

Both men stood staring at each other for a very long moment, Ray finally
speaking. 

"Okay, Fraser. That was one of my snitches. He told me where Huey and
Dewey are...I'm going there too." 

Without waiting for Fraser to respond, Ray again approached the door. And
again, Fraser backed up blocking his path. 

"Get outta my way," Ray warned. 

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Fraser stood directly in front of Ray, a
look of determination on his face. 

Ray shook his head, his eyes narrowing in anger. "Fraser, you're not gonna
stop me. I'm leaving whether you like it or not," he raised his voice. 

"Ray, you could lose your shield....." 

"I don't give a damn about my shield. I'm gonna find that sonovabitch
murderer and then I'm gonna...." his voice faltered. 

"What, Ray? Kill him? What are you going to do?" Fraser prodded. 

Ray almost pleaded with Fraser. "I just wanna bring him in, Frase. I hafta
do this...it's hard enough living with myself...." his voice trailed off
as his eyes drifted to the floor. After a moment, they bore into Fraser's
again, hard and determined. "Now, get outta my way. I mean it. I don't
wanna hurt you, but I will." 

"How will you hurt me, Ray? Hit me? Knock me down? Because there's no way
you're getting past me." 

Fraser was furious now. Ray was the most bullheaded person he had ever
met. 

"I don't care what you think you have to do, Ray, you have orders from
your commanding officer to stay out of this case...." 

"I told you, Fraser, I don't give a shit. Now MOVE!" he bellowed. 

"No," Fraser replied, his voice low, his eyes trained on Ray. 

Ray started walking around Fraser towards the door, but the Mountie
shifted his position so he was again standing directly in Ray's path. He
could see the anger and tension building in his blonde partner's face and
stance. Without looking at Fraser, Ray tried to shove him out of the way,
reaching for the doorknob. But Fraser grabbed Ray by the shoulders and
pushed him back, almost knocking him to the floor. He didn't know if he
was more angry with Ray for his stubbornness, or worried about him for his
feelings of guilt over something he had no control. 

Both men were breathing hard now. "Fraser, I'm asking you to please move
outta my way," Ray seethed through clenched teeth. "I hafta to do this.
You don't understand...." 

"No, Ray, I don't," Fraser interrupted, raising his voice. "You have some
warped sense of responsibility towards a man you used to know and....." 

"He saved my life!" Ray screamed, attempting to drown out Fraser's voice. 

"Yes, Ray, he did. You were fifteen years old, and he pushed you out of
the path of a car. From what you've told me, you and your family thanked
him repeatedly. Your father paid the medical bills for his injuries, you
worked in his bakery at no compensation, you ran errands for him. You
don't owe him your life and your career, Ray. You grew up and you moved on
with your life...and Tony Dillon moved on with his." 

As he spoke, Fraser could see Ray becoming emotional, his eyes filling
with tears. But he continued. 

"It's very unfortunate that his wife died seven years ago, that his son
died as a child, that he himself was killed a few days ago...he was
someone you used to know and love, someone who saved your life and
probably thought of you as a son at one time, but that doesn't mean you
should've been responsible for him." 

 "You don't understand, Fraser," Ray repeated, his voice cracking. 

"No, Ray, I don't. Why don't we sit down so you can explain it to me," he
offered his partner, his voice soothing. 

Ray stared at the floor. Fraser could see him struggling to hold back the
tears. After a long moment, Ray sighed deeply.	

"All right, Fraser, you win. I'll let Huey and Dewey handle this." Ray
turned back to the living room. 

"Thank you, Ray, you're doing the right thing." 

Fraser followed Ray into the living room towards the couch. But just as
Fraser came up to his side, Ray grabbed him by the arm, yanking it down
severely, causing Fraser to fall to his knees.	

"Sorry, Fraser," Ray called as he sprinted out his front door and ran down
the stairs to the GTO. 

"Ray!" 

Fraser quickly sprang to his feet and took off after Ray, reaching the car
just as Ray pealed out of the parking lot. Fraser wasted no time. Both
angry and worried, he ran back up to Ray's apartment to call Francesca. 

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

Ray slowly drove down the street of the old abandoned store where his
snitch had followed Huey and Dewey, and had seen them meeting with another
man. He parked his car a block away and walked quickly to the store,
noticing the Duck boys' car parked out front. Peeking through the
storefront window, he saw Huey and Dewey talking to an older
man...recognizing him as the one sitting alone at the funeral...the same
man Fraser was talking about from the parking lot. Ray knew if he walked
in, Dewey would most likely go ballistic, so he quickly ran along the side
of the building searching for a back door. Coming upon one, he used his
credit card to gain access. Slipping inside, Ray quietly made his way
towards the front of the store, stopping when he heard voices, the first
one belonging to Huey. 

"So, that's when you shot him?" he asked calmly. 

Ray almost gasped audibly when he heard that question but managed to
maintain his cool. He strained to listen to the response. 

"Yeah, but I had to...I mean, I didn't mean to," was the reply.  

Upon hearing those words, Ray couldn't contain himself. He burst through
the door, his gun drawn. 

"Chicago PD, hands in the air," he shouted, his gun pointing at the older
man. He turned his attention to the two detectives. "Why the hell aren't
you arresting him? The sonovabitch just confessed to murder." 

"Ray, put the gun down," Huey ordered. "You get outta here now, and we'll
keep our mouths shut. You don't know what you walked into." 

Ray stared at him, his mouth open in shock. "What...are you fucking nuts?
At least cuff him," he sniped. 

"I told you to get the hell outta here, man," Huey barked. For once Dewey
kept his mouth shut, deeming it wise not to rile the blonde detective any
more than he already was. At that moment, Fraser appeared from the rear of
the store, Diefenbaker at his side.  

"Oh, man, what is this, a party?" Dewey couldn't keep his mouth shut. 

"Shut the hell up," Ray snapped. 

"Ray, perhaps you should leave now," Fraser said quietly, his eyes
narrowed. 

Ray looked over to Fraser, his gun still aimed at the older man. "Fraser,
I heard him confess, he said he killed Tony." 

Fraser hesitated upon hearing Ray's words. He exchanged glances with Huey.
A moment later he looked at Ray again. 

"Ray, please put your gun away and leave....go home...trust me to handle
this," he said to his partner, his eyes almost pleading. 

"Fraser...." Ray began to protest. 

"Ray!" Fraser said sternly, "please just trust me. This man will pay for
his crime." He tried to assure Ray. 

Ray slowly dropped his arm down to his side, surveying the three men he
had just besieged. The older man looked frightened, his eyes cast
downward. Dewey had his usual smirk on his face, and Huey had an
expression of.....understanding, Ray thought. He looked over towards
Fraser. He stared into Fraser's eyes and recognized mutual trust staring
back at him. 

"Okay, Fraser," he said ruefully as he holstered his weapon. 

"Go home, Ray," Fraser said firmly, "I'll be there as soon as I can." 

Ray nodded slowly. He quietly walked past Fraser and exited the same way
he had come in. 

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

Ray was tired of waiting. It had been almost two hours since he had
arrived home, and it took all of his strength not to return to that
abandoned store. He was angry and confused...he had heard the older man
confess, yet the other two detectives had taken no action to arrest him.
Why? He sat forward on the couch and dropped his head down as he ran his
fingers through hair. Where the hell was Fraser? Why didn't he call? 

There was a knock at the door. Ray was up in an instant. He swung the door
open to find Fraser and Diefenbaker standing there. Without speaking, he
stepped back leaving room for Mountie and wolf to enter. Closing the door
behind them, he turned around and leaned against it. 

"Is he in custody?" he asked quietly. 

Fraser continued to the couch and sat down, Diefenbaker depositing himself
on the floor next to him.  

"Ray, I need to talk to you," Fraser said as he looked at his partner over
his shoulder. 

"Is he in custody?" Ray repeated. 

"Yes, but......." he stopped talking. 

Ray walked into the room approaching Fraser. "But what, Fraser?" 

"The DA probably won't be pressing charges," Fraser said, his eyes still
on his partner. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ray spat. "I heard him
confess....he killed Tony." 

"Ray, you need to come over here, sit down and be quiet," Fraser demanded.


Ray was caught off guard by Fraser's tone. He slowly walked to the couch
and sat down, his eyes searing into Fraser's. 

"The man who killed Tony is Jack Sanders. He used to be a friend of
Tony's....." 

"A friend? He's a fucking murderer," Ray shouted bitterly. 

Fraser took a deep breath. "Ray, I must insist that you shut up," he
ordered sternly. 

Ray cast his eyes downward and said nothing. Fraser continued. 

"The shooting as reported to us was not accurate. The man who was thrown
out of the bar for being disorderly, the one who later returned with a
gun......that man was Tony Dillon." 

Ray's head quickly snapped up, his mouth falling open. "Fraser, what the
hell are you saying?" 

"Tony Dillon was threatening to kill the bartender, Ray. Jack Sanders
attempted to get the gun away from him, there was a struggle, the gun went
off and Tony was killed," Fraser explained. "Jack Sanders was afraid to
come forward, but the bartender finally convinced him to." 

Ray quickly shook his head repeatedly. "No....I don't believe it." 

"It's true, Ray. We spoke to the bartender. He corroborated everything
Jack Sanders said." 

"Well, they're both lying then, they're in it together...they set Tony
up," Ray accused angrily, his eyes watering. 

"No, Ray. It's true," Fraser repeated. "The man the other customers were
afraid of was Tony...they feared him for many years. He was a bitter,
angry man and he turned against his friends. He had become a compulsive
gambler and an alcoholic. His friends tried to help him....Jack Sanders
was one of them...but he'd have nothing to do with them. He rejected his
friends, Ray." 

Ray ran his fingers through his hair. "But why....." his voice trailed
off. 

"Apparently, he had fallen in with the wrong people. The Tony Dillon you
remember stopped living many years ago. He and his wife were estranged
when she died. He became involved with gambling...got in over his head. He
lost his house, his wife, his friends, everything. It was no else's fault
but his own." 

"Oh God. Oh God. Maybe if I woulda been there......." 

"No, Ray. You couldn't have stopped this. His friends tried, his wife
tried....you can't blame yourself for this. What you can do for him is
remember him as the man he was when you were a child. You can honor his
memory for the person he used to be." 

Ray's damp eyes spilled over into tears. He leaned back on the couch
resting his head, his eyes closed. 

"I dunno, Frase, I guess people make their own choices in life....turn
corners. That day he was killed, I just.....it just reminded me of when I
was a kid....he was so great to me...me and my friends." 

"And that's how you have to remember him, Ray," Fraser said quietly. 

Ray sighed, turning his head to face Fraser, still resting it on the back
of the couch. "I screwed up big time. Huey and Dewey....." 

".....understand, Ray," Fraser finished his sentence. "Well, as much as
Detective Dewey has the capacity to understand," Fraser qualified with a
smile. 

"Welsh?" 

"He doesn't know about your surprise appearance at the store, and we all
agreed he needn't know as it didn't affect the outcome of this case,"
Fraser explained. 

Ray's face crinkled in thought. "How'd you know where I was?" 

"I asked Francesca to find out where Huey and Dewey were located. She
called them on their cell phone and told them Leftenant Welsh requested a
status check." 

"You mean she lied?" Ray asked, his eyes wide. 

"Well, let's just say she meant to say that I requested a status check,
but for some unexplained reason the Leftenant's name came out instead of
mine...she must have been a bit preoccupied at the time." 

Ray smiled sadly. "Jeez, Frase, I can't believe they'd do this for me.
I'll have to be sure to thank them," he said wistfully. Both men were
quiet for a few moments. 

"Hey, Frase?" 

"Yes, Ray." 

"Thanks for standing by me. I'm really sorry...I mean, after the way I
acted towards you....." 

"You don't have to thank me, Ray, and there's nothing to forgive. You were
going through a difficult time. You're my partner and my friend....I know
you would do the same for me." 

Ray opened his mouth to speak, the words catching in his throat, but
Fraser knew from his partner's expression that he was right. 

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

Ray pulled up in front of the coffee bar...formerly a bakery...on Webster
Avenue and parked the GTO. He slid out of the car and walked around to the
passenger side, leaning against the door, his arms folded across his
chest. Closing his eyes he started to remember....the heavenly scent of
freshly baked bread, the smiling faces greeting him at the door, the
obvious love shared by friends and family...Ray remembered Tony Dillon.
And he smiled at the memory. 

The End 

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