Conversation   Rating: G 
Pairing: none 
Spoilers: "Burning Down the House, "Eclipse", "Strange Bedfellows", and
"Easy Money". There may be others.  If it sounds bizarre or unlikely, it's
probably canon. 
Notes: This comes under the heading of "missing scenes", I suppose. 
Disclaimers and Warnings: The usual - unowned but not unloved, yadda,
yadda, yadda. 
Feedback:  Oh, yes!  Comments to: mhhealey@iastate.edu 

Conversation 
M. 

At a small Starbucks not too far from the Blackstone Hotel, a brisk and
businesslike woman met a crisply casual blue-eyed hunk to the delighted
and not completely silent speculation of the other patrons. She ordered
something large and hideously expensive, and he politely requested
something decaffeinated and small. He paid with a bill taken from his hat,
and tucked the change into the left front pocket of his jeans. She chose a
table, he carried the drinks. They didn't speak; their awareness of one
another was palpable, as was their avoidance of each other's eyes. They
sipped their beverages and watched passersby through the window. 

The visually attractive but silent tableau continued for almost ten
minutes. At that point, the brisk woman checked her watch and decided to
move the proceedings along a bit. 

"Does Ray know you've asked me out?" 

Fraser blinked. "Asked you out?" 

"This is a date, isn't it?" 

"Ah, no. That is, I didn't ... I wasn't ... ah. Well. I suppose I didn't
make my purpose clear and it is perhaps natural that you would consider my
invitation to be an expression of ... hmmm. Yes." He accompanied this
agitated monolog by spilling the remainder of his drink across the table
in an amber streak and mopping its trail with a clean white hankerchief. 

Fraser's discomfiture was certainly entertaining, but the hesitation and
delicate pauses didn't tell her anything she didn't already know. "Why
don't you tell me your purpose for this meeting, then?" 

"Ah. It's about Ray", Fraser began, relieved. "There are one or two
matters that I thought you might help me resolve. Subjects not directly
connected to work ..." 

Stella interrupted brusquely. "I won't discuss Ray's financial
arrangements, you know." 

"Oh, no", he replied evenly, "in any case, that information is available
from other sources." Privately, he wondered at this non sequitur, but
filed it as yet another inexplicable American obsession. 

"And why don't you just ask Ray?" His ready answer had caught her
off-guard. Baiting the Mountie, just slightly, put Stella back on equal
footing. 

Fraser didn't quite blush. "I've tried, at least somewhat, but he avoids
answering. You've known Ray for a long time. He hasn't mentioned anyone
else that might have this information and I was hoping that you would
overlook the somewhat personal and, well, impertinent nature of my
inquiry?" 

Briefly Stella pondered whether she ought to end the conversation
immediately. After all, it wasn't her place to be discussing Ray when he
refused to answer the same questions himself. There was also the question
of what a quaintly polite man like the Mountie would consider 'personal
and impertinent'. Curiousity overwhelmed ethical cautions, and she smiled
encouragingly into Fraser's troubled blue eyes. 

"Ask away, Constable." 

"Thank you." Fraser gathered his somewhat scattered wits and tried to find
a brief but sufficiently comprehensive conversational entry. "Shortly
after Ray and I ... ", he stopped and looked around. It wouldn't do to
compromise Ray's cover by saying 'met'. But what other reference point
could he use for that same time? 

Oddly enough, Stella smiled and rescued him. "After you trashed that car
of his the last time? Half the precincts were buzzing about that stunt." 

"Yes. Thank you." He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath.
"Shortly after we, eh, sacrificed the Riviera to a performance arsonist, I
helped organize a small party to celebrate Ray's birthday." He gave her a
sharp look, one she acknowledged with a small nod. "To commemorate the
event in the traditional manner, I gave Ray a small token to mark the
day." 

"You gave him a birthday present." 

"Yes. But for a number of reasons, I don't think he considered my gift
very meaningful. That is, in fact, the first subject I'd like to discuss.
I was hoping you might tell me something about Ray that would help me
choose a more significant present." 

"I'm sure you'll have many opportunities to observe Ray and select an
appropriate gift next year, Constable." Stella compressed her lips and
studied the opaque swirls in her latte. 

"Yes, ma'am. But I was considering a sort of 'friend's day' present, for
the 17th of the month after next?" 

"A 'friend's day' present? Is that a Canadian celebration?" She wondered
how Fraser had discovered Ray's real birthday. Probably the same way he
had access to Ray's financial records. 

"Not exactly." Fraser thumbed one eyebrow. The entire discussion made him
profoundly uncomfortable, particularly when it was clear that Ray's
ex-wife was more interested in sharpening her wit than in providing any
real information. Still, other approaches had been unsuccessful. His
personal disquiet was a small sacrifice. "That is, I am unaware of a
formal Friend's Day designation. It seemed", he smiled at the opportunity
to use one of Ray's pet phrases, "like a good idea at the time." 

"Yes, well, I'd be happy to tell you what I know about Ray and his
interests, but he has changed a lot in the last few years. I'm not sure
anything I suggest would be something he'd still enjoy." 

Fraser considered for a moment, then changed tack. "Well, perhaps we could
discuss the other matter and come back to the first? It's been my
experience, with ... another friend named Ray, that our conversations had
a certain flow, a rhythm if you will. A comment on a particular topic from
one person would invite a comment by the other person from their
perspective of similar events or situations. We exchanged a great deal of
personal information during the course of this sort of conversation." 

Stella looked at him blankly. Fraser coughed and tugged his ear. "The
thing is, I've made some comments that Ray has, well, he hasn't taken the
opportunity to present his views. In fact, he goes very quiet and ... and
imitates a hedgehog." 

Wide-eyed, Stella had to ask. "A hedgehog?" 

"Defensive and prickly." 

She laughed. "You don't see blond hedgehogs every day." 

"Ray's a rare creature in many respects", Fraser acknowledged mildly. For
a moment, Stella thought she caught a glimpse of something else in his
manner but it was gone before she could identify it. 

"In any case, it's happened often enough now that I've identified the
topics that affect him. It's families, more specifically, it's the subject
of parents. Fathers." Stella straightened, but said nothing. "You see, my
father was also in the RCMP, and I refer to him rather often. In a
professional capacity, of course, but also personal anecdotes. If it was
something that didn't come up a lot, I wouldn't be as concerned." 

Stella remained silent, and Fraser spoke faster, filling the emptiness
with words. "I'm concerned that my frequent references to my father, in
the course of our regular police work, are making Ray even more
uncomfortable than he's indicated. Of course, he hasn't actually said
anything, and I may have completely misunderstood the situation. But he
has told me that you speak to his mother quite often and this led me to
believe that you might be in a position to tell me whether there's
something I could do to address the circumstances in a way that would be
less distressing for him?" 

"Exactly what is it you think you should know, Constable?" The cold
protectiveness of her question surprised him. Surprised her, too. Ray's
troubles were no longer her concern, but the distance she'd sought
disappeared as soon as a stranger, an outsider dared ask questions. 

"I'm not certain", he replied quietly, aware of her sudden anger. "I'm
trying to understand why Ray refuses to volunteer anything about his
father. They must have a difficult relationship. My father and I weren't
particularly close, but I never hesitate to talk about him. Ray's father,
the other Ray, that is, his father wasn't a very admirable man in many
respects but Ray spoke of him often. Ray, this Ray, doesn't volunteer
anything. The subject causes him a great deal of pain." 

"It's the terms of the cease-fire, Fraser", Stella sighed. How to describe
her ex-husband's complicated interactions with his parents? 

"I'm sorry?" 

"You haven't met his family, there's no way you could be expected to
understand. Ray is such a complete ... changeling, I suppose. He's unlike
either of his parents. No", she amended, groping for a more accurate
description, "they all think that ignoring a problem will make it go away.
They don't understand him. He doesn't understand them. Everything they do
with him in mind is wrong, even with the best intentions. Everything he
does for them is worse than wrong. So, they eventually just ... stopped.
They didn't stop caring", she was quick to add. "But it became very clear
that any time one of them DID something, it was the wrong thing. 

"Ray struggled so hard to be himself. I know he only went to college to
please his parents." At Fraser's single raised eyebrow, she smiled thinly
and confessed, "Well, he wanted to be near me, too. And it was great for
awhile. But he didn't really want to be in school. Ray's always been a
doer more than a thinker. Classrooms put him to sleep, studying was only
an excuse to get together in the library and have a laugh. Eventually he
decided to drop out. That raised the roof for a bit, I must say. 

"What made it worse was that Ray didn't tell his folks about dropping out
of school." Both Fraser's eyebrows shot toward his hairline at that. "I'm
not sure I can explain it, but Ray was always doing things like that. I
think he didn't want to tell them until he had something positive to go
with it. You know what I mean. Instead of saying 'I dropped out of
college', he tells them 'I'm going to be a policeman, and by the way I
also dropped out of school'." 

"That must have been upsetting." This was definitely a side to Ray that
Fraser hadn't previously encountered. 

"You have a talent for understatement", Stella noted drily. "If he'd
thought for a month about a better way to alienate his folks, he couldn't
have come up with anything more guaranteed to send his dad into orbit."
Frustrated by trying to describe Ray's inexplicable irrationalities
regarding his parents, Stella took a long drink of the now-cold coffee and
grimaced. "He was always trying to spare their feelings and making things
worse. Doing things to please them instead of himself and then
disappointing them when he didn't finish or follow through." 

"You would have preferred him to disregard their wishes?" Fraser still
wasn't sure how this unexpected description fit with what he already knew
about Ray from the official record and his limited personal experience.
Separating the source from the information was also proving more difficult
than he'd anticipated. 

"No. Yes. Oh, I don't know." Distracted, Stella ran a carefully manicured
hand through her hair, tugging. "If he did things they wanted and DID
them, then it wouldn't have been so bad. Or if he'd just refused. That
wouldn't have hurt them so badly. But he'd take the easiest way, agree to
whatever they asked or whatever he thought they'd want. Then quit, or
fail, or forget, or drop out, or give up. He wouldn't stand up for
himself, but he'd find some way to sabotage the things he didn't really
want to do. 

"It was always like that with Ray. You could never tell whether he was
doing something because he wanted to or because he thought it was what you
expected. It's hard to know where you stand with someone like that." She
hadn't meant to say that. 

Mercifully, Fraser didn't seem to notice the personal revelation. "And
when Ray joined the force, he and his parents stopped communicating?" 

"Not entirely. Ray still talks to his mom a few times a month. Cards at
Christmas. A check for his birthday. But, as far as I can tell, they don't
really talk about anything important. Too afraid to say the wrong thing, I
suppose." 

"Don't they visit? Or does Ray go to see them?" 

"No, Ray stays holed up here in Chicago and expects the world to come to
him." Fraser glanced up sharply and Stella instinctively raised her hands
in submission. "That wasn't fair. He doesn't visit them, no. And they
haven't been here since ... since Ray and I separated." Stella looked
thoughtful for a few moments, then repeated, "They haven't come to Chicago
since Ray and I split up." 

Softly, Fraser asked, "Why might that be?" 

Stella shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know." 

"I can think of many reasons parents might spend more time with a child
whose marriage is ending, but Ray's parents stayed away. You must have
some ideas?" Fraser paused as a thought suddenly struck him. "Ray didn't
tell his parents when you separated, did he?" 

Wryly Stella conceded, "No. But I did. And I told him I did, so he wasn't
boxed into pretending otherwise." 

"And they said nothing to him?" Curiouser and curiouser. Fraser knew other
people saw the world differently, and that judging others by his own code
of conduct was generally an exercise in futility. While he recognized that
lawbreakers, for example, obviously held a different set of priorities and
moral standards, sometimes there seemed to be no reasonable explanation
for the way other people chose to treat those closest to them. "His mother
didn't want him to move home?" Stella met his eyes, startled. He smiled
and looked away. "My other friend Ray moved home again after he and his
wife separated. He seemed to think that was normal." 

"Ray would have had trouble moving 'home', as you put it. They sold the
house right after Ray and I got married." Stella almost snorted at a
sudden recollection. "His mom called it 'shutting the barn door'. She
seemed to think it was very funny." 

Fraser reflected that it was no wonder Ray's divorce had been so
traumatic. He had a startling vision of Ray as a sinking ship, with
human-faced rats deserting him in droves. He gave himself a quick mental
shake and tried to erase the image of a Stella-faced rodent scuttling
away. Unkind and untrue. 

He hadn't realized he'd spoken the last words aloud until Stella answered
him. "I suppose. But they really do care about Ray and I know they want
what's best for him. It's just that their idea of what's best and his are
somewhat different. I know his mom is a lot more worried about him than
she lets him know." 

Then why is she avoiding him?, Fraser wanted to snap. It was beyond his
comprehension, that people who claimed to care about Ray could show
callous disregard for his needs. For his feelings. Fraser felt indignation
rise, but tamped it down with a reminder that he didn't know these people
and that it was impossible to judge their behavior from a single, biased
report. 

Stella looked pensively at her watch. "You know, Constable, it's possible
that Ray's folks haven't visited because they didn't want to choose
sides." 

"Sides? I don't understand." 

"In the divorce. I love Ray's mom, we have a much better relationship than
I do with my own mother. Maybe they didn't want to be here while things
were unsettled because they'd just end up in the middle of the mess?"
Stella gve a humorless laugh. "And maybe I overestimate myself." 

"Your divorce has been final for awhile now?" Stella nodded. "And they've
still made no effort to see Ray?" 

"Maybe they're waiting for him to say something first. It's a long trip,
after all, and he hasn't been all sunny encouragement, you know? Maybe
they're trying to give him some space?" 

Another incomprehensible, allegedly modern concept. Fraser almost growled
in frustration, but his natural fair-mindedness made him examine the
possibility that Ray's parents thought they were doing the right thing. He
sighed. Wolves were much simpler companions, on the whole. Not entirely
guileless, true, but their smiling deceptions weren't the convoluted
self-involved nonsense perpetrated by humans on those they claimed to
love. 

He smiled a small, crooked grin. "Well, you said yourself that they have a
talent for doing the most hurtful thing with the best of intentions. I
suppose that's probably it." Then it hit him, and he froze, thunderstruck.


Stella looked up to smile her agreement and was alarmed when Fraser didn't
respond. She reached out a tentative hand to his nearest forearm and
jumped higher than he did when they touched. He shook his head and came
back to the present with a nearly audible snap. He gave her a slow,
unconsciously sexy smile and she cocked her head in question. 

"That's it." He laughed as her puzzlement increased. "Thank you, Ms.
Kowalski, I think I've gotten all the answers I need." 

********** 

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Kowalski, 

My name is Benton Fraser. I work in Chicago with your son, Ray. Stan, that
is. I obtained your address from Stella Kowalski and you should feel free
to ask her for my provenance. 

It occurs to me that you may think I'm writing to tell you that something
has happened to Ray. Nothing could be further from the truth. Ray is well.
He would be very upset if he knew I was writing to you, though. He's a
very proud man. But you already know that. 

He's my friend, and my partner. We haven't known each other long, but I
believe I've come to know him well. 

Sometimes, between partners, the silences are as significant as the words.


One of Ray's silences concerns you. It isn't really my place to do this,
and I hope you'll forgive my forwardness, but Ray has been teaching me
about partnership and one of the things partners do, apparently, is take
action for the other's good. I understand this in a professional sense,
but the personal is somewhat more problematic. This makes an already
awkward situation even more so. Perhaps I should just make my request? 

I would ask you to consider visiting Chicago in the near future. 

I'm certain Ray would never ask you himself, he's very hesitant to make
personal demands on the people he cares for. At the same time, he's very
generous and openhanded towards those same people with his own efforts and
resources. He is always surprised to be treated in kind. 

Whatever your decision, please don't mention this letter to Ray. 

Yours obediently, 
B. Fraser 

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