Document Title     Rated: PG 
 
 
 

This is my first attempt at writing a DS story. I have often wondered how
Ray and Fraser hooked back up when Fraser returned to Chicago. There were
also several changes made between the pilot and Free Willy. This is my
humble attempt to answer these questions. Feedback is always appreciated!
Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 

This story takes place between the pilot and Free Willy.  
 
 
 
 The Beginning 
 
 
 By Betty Burch (bcb@hamilton.net)   
 
 
 

 Fraser left the courthouse feeling dejected. Yes, Gerard was going to
prison for murdering his father; but Fraser was going to a different kind
of prison. Chicago! The thought of actually living there for any length of
time made him physically shudder. Maybe Russia wouldn't be such a bad
posting after all. 

The thought had crossed his mind not to go, but in the end he did his
duty. He felt he owed it to his father, though he wasn't sure why. So for
the second time he found himself walking from O'Hare to the hotel. It
wasn't much, but it suited his needs until he found an apartment. Fraser
threw his backpack on the floor and collapsed onto the bed. That was quite
a hike even for a Mountie in excellent condition. Of course Mounties
usually didn't have to contend with smog on their excursions. He already
longed for the clean, brisk air of home. 

 Fraser glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. It was only 5:30 PM.
Too late to go to the consulate but too early to go to bed. He considered
what he should do for the remainder of the evening. The thought crossed
his mind to call Ray Vecchio, but he quickly squelched that thought. The
American had been very generous to him. Not everyone would come to "the
armpit of the frozen north" to help someone they barely knew. He certainly
didn't want to impose on him yet again. Deciding to go to the diner down
the street, he dug out one of his father's journals to read while he ate.
He'd eaten many a meal alone so he wasn't quite sure why it depressed him
so now. Perhaps it was eating alone while surrounded by people. 

 After dinner Fraser unpacked the few possessions he had brought with him.
Once he was settled he would have the rest of his things sent; not that he
had many possessions. Lying in bed he had the sense that something was
missing. Finally he realized he wasn't hearing Diefenbaker snore. He was
so used to hearing it that its absence was distracting. At least he would
be able to pick him up tomorrow. Eventually Fraser fell asleep...dreaming
longingly of the wide-open spaces of home. *****  

 The next morning Fraser found himself standing In Inspector Moffatt's
office. He wasn't one to criticize his superior officers, but he failed to
see how the man had risen to such a prominent position. 

"Your duties will be somewhat different Constable. Since Leanne left for
Ottawa I've made some changes. What is it you did around here anyway? 

 "Guard duty sir," was Fraser's reply. 

"Really? I thought you were my deputy?" 

"I am sir." 

"Well, as my deputy you'll certainly have a variety of important matters
to deal with. In fact you can start right now. Jasmine can't leave her
desk so I need for you to pick up lunch. Do you think you can handle that?


"I am a Mountie...I can handle anything." *****  

It had been a week since he'd returned to Chicago. He spent the days
either running inane errands for Inspector Moffatt, or standing guard
duty. Neither job was very satisfying. He remembered Leanne's statement
"I'm a cop Fraser!" He could certainly understand her frustration. Nothing
he was doing was even remotely related to police work. He fought the urge
to sigh. That wouldn't do while he was standing guard. Again he thought of
Ray Vecchio. He had almost called the detective to ask for a ride to pick
up Dief, but again hadn't wanted him to feel obligated. 

 Fraser heard the bell toll the end of his shift. He signaled Diefenbaker
and they headed back to the hotel. He hadn't started looking for an
apartment yet. Finding one meant acceptance of his situation. Even though
he knew it was illogical there was a part of him that hoped he would get
to go home soon. 

 Another week passed. Each day ran into the other. Fraser was again
thinking that Russia would be better than this. He was incredibly bored!
His daily routine seldom varied. He got up, went to work, came home, read
and then went to sleep. He was very familiar with the menu at the diner
since he ate at least two meals a day there. Maybe it was time to look for
an apartment. He had to accept that he wasn't going home anytime in the
near future. An apartment meant he could cook for himself and Dief. Then
he could send for the rest of his meager belongings. He hadn't brought his
dream catcher and he missed having it. Every night he dreamt of his father
dying and of Gerard's betrayal. He even had dreams of running Inspector
Moffatt's ridiculous errands! *****  

Detective Ray Vecchio sat at his desk in a funk. He was back to work
fulltime, having fully recovered from being bombed out of a second story
window, then being chased all over the frozen tundra by men trying to kill
him. He wondered how the Mountie was doing. Ray's dad hadn't been much but
it was still tough when he died. Fraser obviously idolized his father. How
difficult must that be? 

"Detective Vecchio," Lieutenant Welsh yelled from his doorway. "In my
office...NOW!" 

"God," Ray groaned. "What have I done now?" Ever since he'd returned to
work Welsh had been riding him hard. He was obviously still annoyed with
him for disobeying his orders and continuing to search for Frankie Drake.
For the one-thousandth time Ray wondered how long he would be in the
doghouse. 

"I've got an assignment for you Vecchio," Welsh said as he closed the door
to his office. "Right up your alley." 

 Again he groaned inwardly. The look on Welsh's face didn't bode well.
Probably another crummy case that either couldn't be solved or involved
lots of paperwork. 

 "Thank you sir. Any assignment you give me will be greatly appreciated."
Ray was hoping sucking up would improve his situation. 

"Can it Vecchio! You and I both know you're not going to appreciate this
case. Even so, someone's got to do it. Of course your name came to mind.
Have you ever heard of Jack Timmerman?" 

The detective searched his memory. 

 "If I remember correctly he was a prime suspect in several bank robberies
over the past couple of years. Never enough evidence to get an arrest
warrant; let alone a conviction." 

"He's suspected of being part of the gang that robbed the First National
Bank the other day. They got away with over two million dollars. The
powers that be think if he's followed 24/7 he might lead us to his
co-conspirators and the money. Quite frankly, I give the guy more credit
that that. Even so, what headquarters wants headquarters gets, so..."
Welsh's voice trailed off. 

This time Ray couldn't stifle his groan. "You mean I've got to follow this
guy day in and day out? Do I get any kind of help" 

"You'll follow him from 7am 'til he goes to sleep at night" Welsh said,
with a note of apology in his voice. "We can't spare the additional
manpower so you're it. You do this and the next case will be better, I
promise." 

"You can't fall out of a basement," Ray mumbled under his breath. 

This was one of those no win assignments. Days spent following some guy
with nothing to show for it when you're done. Welsh handed him the file
and Ray left the office. Before heading to the car he made a stop in the
bathroom. Heaven only knew when he'd have the chance to go again! ***** 

Three days he'd been following this guy. Three days of watching him shop,
do his laundry and all the other mundane tasks of life. Actually, the man
didn't go out much, so most of the time had been spent staring at the
front of his apartment building. Timmerman certainly didn't look like a
successful bank robber. The guy looked like an unmade bed. His graying
hair was usually disheveled; and his clothes were wrinkled, like he'd just
pulled them out of the laundry basket. 

But it was his shoes that fascinated Ray. They were caked in dried mud. He
never bothered to clean them off; he just walked around with mud on his
shoes. Again, he thought of Fraser. He could probably just look at his
shoes and tell where they had been. 

 It was late and the detective was exhausted. He certaily hoped he
wouldn't have to do this for much longer. He saw Timmerman's light go out
so he started the car and headed for home. Hopefully Ma had saved him some
dinner. *****  

The next morning Ray was heading back for another day of boring
surveillance work. It was early and he was still half-asleep so he ended
up taking a wrong turn. His path led him past the Canadian consulate where
a Mountie was protecting the building from marauding pigeons. 

"Boy they all look alike," he thought to himself. If he hadn't known
better he would have sworn that was Fraser standing guard. 

Ray slowed. Damn...that was Fraser!" He quickly pulled over to the curb.
Still not quite believing his eyes, Ray walked right up to the Mountie and
just stared at him. 

"When did you get back in town?" Ray asked. "You mean to tell me that
after everything I did for you, you come back to town and don't even
bother to call? That's what I call gratitude!" 

Fraser showed no reaction, which really irritated Ray. "When do you get
off work?" 

Still no response. 

"How about blinking? This is like talking to a post! Blinking isn't
allowed?" He was stunned that anyone would be expected to stand still for
hours on end without even blinking. "Well, I've got to get to work. Not
that this case is going anywhere." 

It was at that moment Ray got his great idea. 

"Is it true you can smell what's in mud? Because if you can there's this
case I've been working on..." 

He was finally forced to go into the consulate to ask when the Mountie got
off work. On his way out he said, "I'll be back at eleven sharp, so don't
go anywhere." ***** 

Benton Fraser found it almost impossible not to blink at Ray. He was so
happy to see him! The fact that he was so pleased to see the American
surprised him. It wasn't like he knew the detective well, but he was the
only person Fraser knew in Chicago. 

Ray had acted like he was really annoyed that he hadn't called him! It had
never entered his mind that the American would actually want to talk to
him. It felt good to know that he cared enough to stand there balling him
out. 

When the man from the airport had returned Fraser's money the look on
Ray's face had been priceless. He could tell that Ray was incredulous that
Fraser had loaned money to a total stranger; and even more stunned that
the man had actually repaid the debt. This had brought on a lecture about
being too trusting. *****  

"That's what you get for assuming Fraser," Ray said after Fraser had
explained why he hadn't called. "You assume something and you end up
making an ass out of you and out of me." 

"I don't understand Ray. How does my wrong assumption make both of us
donkeys?" 

He just looked at the Mountie. He had forgotten how literal he could be;
and how unfamiliar he was with American sayings.  

 "Forget it Fraser." 

"If you say so, Ray."  

 He looked around the interior of the car and asked, "What happened to the
Mercedes?" 

Ray winced. "It wasn't mine, it belonged to the department. While I was
laid up they gave it to some undercover narcotics guy." 

"I'm sorry Ray," Fraser said in a sympathetic tone. 

"It actually worked out for the best, because I finally got the car of my
dreams. This is a mint condition 1971 Buick Rivera. The finest vehicle
ever produced by Detroit. I went all the way to Buffalo to get this baby."


Fraser was amused by the loving tone in Ray's voice as he continued
talking about the car and how special it was. He couldn't even begin to
understand the attraction, but if it made Ray this happy then it must be a
good thing. 

Ray began filling him in on the case. There wasn't much to tell so by the
time they got to Timmerman's Fraser was brought up to speed. 

"The problem is that I would need access to the shoes, or at least some of
the mud on them, in order to tell you anything. It's not as if I can
figure it out from a block away." 

"I'm not stupid Fraser! I know that. I was just trying to come up with a
plan to get some of the mud, but so far I haven't thought of anything. You
got any ideas?" 

The Mountie thought for a moment.  

 "You could just ask him for the mud. He might be more than happy to give
some to you. 

Ray looked at Fraser as if he were an idiot. "Yeah right...he's just gonna
hand over mud to some stranger on the street who asks him. When pigs fly!"


"Pigs don't fly Ray. It couldn't hurt to ask." 

At that moment Timmerman came out of his apartment and headed up the
street. Before Ray could stop him Fraser was out of the car heading
towards him. He couldn't hear the conversation, but after a brief exchange
Fraser was heading back to the car with a hunk of mud. Timmerman stood
there a few moments with a quizzical look on his face before heading on
down the street. 

"What did you say to him?" Ray asked as Fraser got back into the car. 

"I told him the truth. I said I was a Mountie from Canada with an interest
in different types of mud. I explained that the mud on his shoes was
unfamiliar to me and asked if I could have a sample. He was more than
happy to oblige." 

Ray just shook his head. Leave it to the Mountie to get the mud by telling
the truth; if not exactly the whole truth. Nobody else on the face of the
planet could have done that! 

"Well, what kind of mud is it?" 

"I haven't had time to study it yet Ray. We need to go back to my hotel
room. I've got my equipment there." 

"Equipment? What kind of equipment does it take to taste mud?" 

"I need my magnifying glass. This is unusual looking mud. Closer
inspection may yield more information than licking alone could provide." 

Ray again found himself staring at the Mountie. One thing was sure, it was
never dull with Fraser around. You never knew what was going to come out
of, or go into, his mouth! *****  

Vecchio was saddened as he looked around Fraser's hotel room. He couldn't
believe the Mountie hadn't found an apartment yet. The hotel was clean,
but it was barren of anything personal. He would go nuts staying in a
place like this for more than a few days; and Fraser had been here almost
a month. 

Fraser was busy examining the mud. Ray had no clue what he was looking
for. It was probably a dead end, but it was at least worth checking out.
If nothing else it gave him a chance to spend some time with Fraser. The
Mountie was one of the strangest people he had ever met. Even so, he
enjoyed being with him, though he didn't know why. 

"Hey Fraser, what do your friends call you?" 

"What do you mean Ray?" 

"Just what I said. I can't keep calling you Fraser...and I refuse to call
you Benton." 

"My family called me Benton...or Ben, but most people just call me
Fraser." 

Ray thought about that for a moment. "It isn't very personal." 

"It's my name." 

Fraser suddenly looked up at Ray. "I think I may have an idea where this
mud came from. This appears to be from some kind of organic farm." 

Fraser licked the mud causing the American to shudder. 

"Rich in nutrients, but no chemicals...high manure content." 

Fraser licked the sample again. "Yes, this either came from an organic
farm...or perhaps a nursery." 

Ray fought the impulse to gag. He couldn't believe the Mountie was putting
manure filled dirt in his mouth! He didn't think he'd ever get used to
that. Still, it was a clue. If it came from a farm they were out of luck.
That would be outside the city and out of his jurisdiction. Plus, there
were probably hundreds of organic farms in Illinois. No, his best bet
would be to check out the nurseries. 

Ray pulled his phone from his coat pocket and pushed some buttons. A
distracted female voice answered. 

"Elaine! I need you to get me a list of all the organic nurseries in the
Chicago area. Can you do that for me?" 

Fraser could hear whoever was on the other end chiding Vecchio for making
her do his grunt work. 

Ray's reply was short, but not very sweet. "Just get it and call me back
with the results!" 

Ray slapped the phone shut and put it back in his pocket. 

"You know Ray, my grandmother had a saying... 'You get more with honey
than with vinegar.'" 

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"It simply means that people tend to be more willing to help you if you
ask them nicely." 

"Maybe it works like that in Canada, Fraser, but this is America. Here the
wheel that squeaks the loudest gets the most oil. You might want to
remember that." 

"I will Ray. I will." *****  

Two hours, and several lectures on courtesy, later, Ray and Fraser pulled
up to the last nursery on the list. The parking lot was empty. Upon closer
inspection it became apparent the building had been abandoned. 

The two men looked at each other. Without saying a word they knew this was
the place. Before getting out of the car Fraser turned to the wolf in the
back seat. "You stay here Dief. Do you understand?" The wolf pretended to
ignore him. Sometimes being deaf worked to his advantage. "I mean it
Diefenbaker," Fraser said before getting out of the car. 

The front door was locked. They walked around the building until they
found a side door that was slightly open. They could hear voices coming
from inside. Ray could pick out three distinct voices but he couldn't make
out what they were saying. 

He motioned Fraser to follow him back to the parking lot. "I think these
may be the guys but I can't be sure. I couldn't make out what they were
saying." 

"They were discussing cutting Timmerman out of his share of the take,"
Fraser responded. 

"You heard that?" 

"Yes Ray. I have very sensitive hearing." 

"I should say so! Okay, here's the deal. I need to call for backup. Welsh
is gonna have my butt for leaving my post unless I can solve this case. I
can't take them alone, so I need for you to go wait by the car and direct
the patrol cars back here, okay?" 

The Mountie gave Ray a hurt look. "You don't have to take them alone Ray.
I'm here and more than willing to help. Plus, by the time backup gets here
they may be gone." 

"Fraser stop and think. You don't even have a gun! What possible help
could you be? You'd only end up getting hurt or killed. Then I'd really be
in the dog house!" 

"I may not carry a gun but I have my brain. Your wits can be a more
powerful weapon than any firearm." 

The hurt puppy dog look on Fraser's face gave Ray pause. "Don't look at me
like that! Okay! Okay! I'll call for backup and we'll go in. Will that
make you happy?" 

Ray couldn't believe he was going to do this. He really needed to have his
head examined. 

After calling for backup the two men headed into the building. The room
was filled with long rows of tables where the plants used to sit.
Crouching low Ray moved towards the sound of voices coming from the other
end of the room. He motioned Fraser to go around the other way. 

Ray moved down the aisle. He noticed how much dust there was. It was
obvious this place had been empty a long time. Thinking about the dust
wasn't a good idea. The next thing he knew he felt the horrible urge to
sneeze! He knew he couldn't stop it.  

 "Great," Ray thought. "I'm going to die because I have allergies. What a
way to go! 

Fraser could see Ray across the room. It was obvious that he was putting
up a valiant struggle not to sneeze but would eventually lose the fight.
Before he could act the room was filled with an extremely loud	

"AAAAHHHCCCHHHOOO!!" 

The three men turned towards Ray, turning their backs on Fraser. He jumped
the man closest to him. Easily disarming him, he used his lanyard to
secure his prisoner. 

Ray was also attempting to bring one of the men under his control. He had
to stop when he realized the third man had a gun pointed at his head.
Again, he figured he was about to die. He closed his eyes and was just
about to launch into prayer when he heard a low growl followed by
something furry flying past him. When he opened his eyes the third man was
on the floor with Diefenbaker looking at him like he just might be lunch. 

 After helping Ray secure his man Fraser turned to look at the wolf. "I
thought I told you to stay in the car!" Dief just looked at him and made a
sound that Ray thought sounded like an insult. 

"I'm glad he didn't listen to you; otherwise I'd probably be dead." Again,
the wolf made a noise. If Ray hadn't known better he would have thought
that the wolf was actually following the conversation and making comments!


Ray looked back at Fraser. He was standing with a big dopey grin on his
face. 

"We got our men Ray!" 

"God, what a Mountie!" *****  

For the second time the two men stood in Lieutenant Welsh's office. Again,
the lieutenant did not look happy. "I can't believe this Vecchio! I give
you a simple assignment to follow this guy, and you leave your post to..."
Welsh looked down at the report in his hand "let's see...you left your
post to track down some mud. Am I understanding this correctly detective?"


"Yes sir," was all Ray said. 

"To continue, you then took an unarmed civilian into a hostile situation,
placing both of your lives in danger...have I got that right?" 

Ray didn't even bother to answer. He just looked at Fraser and then at
Welsh; giving the lieutenant his best hang dog expression. It wasn't
having the desired effect. 

"What do you have to say for yourself Vecchio?" 

"Nothing sir. I was wrong and I would like to apologize for my behavior."
Ray was again hoping that sucking up would help, but it didn't work any
better this time around. Welsh fixed him with a look that made Ray blanch.


"If I may interject Lieutenant," Fraser said, trying to ease the tension
in the room. "Detective Vecchio entered the building at my request. I may
not be a member of the Chicago Police Department, but I'm not really a
civilian either. As Deputy Liaison officer it is part of my duty to assist
the local police whenever possible. Also, the actions taken by Detective
Vecchio not only resulted in the apprehension of the suspects, but also
returned over two million dollars to the people of Chicago. On a more
personal note, may I just say how well you're looking? Have you lost
weight?" 

Welsh just stared at the Mountie. Fraser was beginning to wonder why
everyone was constantly staring at him. 

Shaking his head he looked back at Ray. "The Constable is right. You did
solve the case. It's the way in which you solved it that has me concerned.
Even so, headquarters is pleased with your performance. You'll probably
get a commendation for this." 

 Welsh glanced at Fraser and then back to Vecchio. "Next time leave the
Mountie at home...you got that?"

 

"Yes sir!" Ray responded as he backed out the door. 

"And the wolf too," were the last words Welsh said before the door was
closed behind the two men. ***** 

"Why is it every time I do what you want I end up getting in trouble?" Ray
whined, looking at Fraser in exasperation. 

"I don't know Ray," was all the Mountie said. 

 Ray looked at his watch. Five o'clock straight up...quitting time. 

 "So Benny, you wanna come over for dinner? I know Ma would love to see
you again." 

 "What did you just call me?" Fraser said with a strange look on his face.


 "What are you talking about?" 

 "You just called me Benny! Where did that come from?" 

 Ray thought for a few moments. "I don't know. I guess Benny just...well,
don't take this personally, but you're sort of an uptight guy. Benny just
sounds like someone who's relaxed and loose, that's all. Maybe if I call
you that enough you'll get the starch out of your bloomers." 

 With a straight face Fraser responded "I don't wear bloomers Ray. If you
must know I wear boxers, with just a little starch." 

 Ray could see the corners of Fraser's mouth go up in a slight smile.
Well, the Mountie had a sense of humor after all! He certainly had his
work cut out for him though; who actually starched their underwear?" 

 Ray threw his arm around the Mounties shoulder and laughed. "Come on
Benny, let's go have a good home cooked meal!" ***** 

 Later that evening Ray drove Fraser back to his hotel. Mrs. Vecchio had
indeed been pleased to see him. She had obviously forgiven Fraser for
almost getting her son blown up. She fussed over him all evening. It was
nice, if a little overwhelming. The food had been delicious. Dief had
eaten himself into a stupor. Fraser had begun to notice the wolf eating
things he never would have touched up north. 

 "Thanks for inviting me to dinner Ray. It was very kind of you." 

 "Hey Benny, that's what friends do." 

 "Friends?" 

 "Yes Fraser. Friends. We are friends aren't we?" 

 "Of course Ray, if you would like." 

 "Well I would. Besides, a guy who can solve crimes by sniffing dirt might
come in handy." 

 The grin on his face let him know that Ray was pulling his leg. Fraser
grinned back at him. 

 "Benny, my boy, this is only the beginning. Heaven only knows what
trouble the two of us can get into." 

 Fraser actually laughed at that. It felt good to have a friend in
Chicago. Heck, it felt good to have a friend period. He was quiet for a
moment before he turned to Ray. "I was wondering if you could take me to
see an apartment tomorrow? I've put off getting a place for too long. If
this is going to be home for awhile I'd better find a place to hang my
hat...metaphorically speaking that is." 

 Ray looked at the Stetson sitting on Fraser's head. "What metaphorical?
You've got a really big hat to hang!" 

 As they pulled up to the hotel Ray added, "I'll pick you up after your
shift. We'll go check out some apartments and grab some lunch, okay?" 

 Fraser simply nodded his head and got out of the car. Putting his head
through the open car winder he said, "Good night Ray. Thanks for
everything." 

 He stood and watched the Riv pull away. Again, he felt a contentment he
hadn't felt for a very long time. Chicago wasn't the territories, but at
least it was better than Russia...now that he had a friend.  

 Later Fraser was stretched out in bed with Diefenbaker snoring noisily
beside him. For the first time since coming to Chicago the Mountie was
sleeping peacefully. There would be no bad dreams tonight. Ray had been
right. This was only the beginning... 
 
 
 
 THE END...FOR NOW!!  
 
 
 
 

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archive without consent of the author. Thank you Kindly!