The blue flue was over and no one was happier about it than Ray
Kowalski aka   

A sequel to: The Bounty Hunter 

By: Winston 

Due South: Alliance 

  

To Protect and to Serve 

  

  

The blue flu was over and no one was happier about it than Ray Kowalski
aka. Detective Raymond Vecchio. But right now he was one tired trooper. He
had spent half the night talking to his completely depressed partner. That
bounty hunter broad had knocked the Mountie for a loop, and Ray very
nearly hated her for it. Fraser could handle almost anything but his own
emotions and that crazy woman had really stirred them up. It hadn't been
easy, but Ray had finally been able to convince his friend that it wasn't
so much the woman that he was missing as much as what that kind of woman
represented for him.  

Home.  

She had reminded the Mountie of life back home, and the near impossibility
of finding, here in Chicago, a woman who shared his interests and
background. Ray was keenly aware that his friend often missed his home
terribly and any reminder, although welcome at the time, often caused his
partner to once again realize just what he was missing by being in the
city. The thin blond had often made valiant efforts to help fill the gap,
and although the Mountie understood what he was doing and was deeply
appreciative of those efforts they usually fell sadly short.  

It had taken nearly a gallon of tea and one pizza, which due to the
Mountie's depressed mood Ray was forced to polish off nearly
single-handed. But when he had finally driven his friend back to the
Consulate the Mountie had actually been able to work up a genuine smile
when he said goodnight.  

Fortunately for Fraser he was scheduled for the afternoon shift and could
sleep in, and even though to the Mountie sleeping in meant that he would
be up no later than 6:30 it was more the idea of it. Ray had known that he
would be coming in to a full plate of cases that should have been started
days before. He wasn't disappointed. His morning had been more than hectic
and had no indication that it would slow down anytime soon. 

Ray was headed downstairs to see Mort. He had just gotten the word that
Mort wanted to see him about that dead guy that had been found in the
park. He was less than thrilled with the prospect of going down there
alone. It was bad enough when Fraser was along, knowing that his crazy
partner wasn't above licking something to gain a clue, but to go alone was
somehow worse. Ray didn't even understand himself what bugged him so bad
about the morgue. Handling dead bodies on the street was one thing, but
once they were in that sterile, cold environment it was nearly more than
he could stand. There had been more than once that he had almost lost his
cookies because of the thought of these once living, breathing beings
reduced to the impersonal status of just one more piece of evidence.  

If the skinny blond wouldn't have been in a police station and didn't have
his nose buried in a file he might have been more wary. He might have
noticed the three burly uniformed officers who were shadowing him as he
entered the deserted hall that led to the morgue. 

  

  

Mort was really upset. He had enough to do without being sent on a wild
goose chase. The caller had said that the squad leader for the uniformed
division had needed him in his office ASAP. Once he had arrived at the
man's office he had been informed that the guy had been on vacation for
two days and wouldn't be back until Monday.  

He was so involved in his own private dialogue of disgust with the
situation that he was almost at his door before he noticed the scattered
papers on the floor. He had just gotten them gathered up when he heard a
strangled cry from inside the morgue and a dull meaty thud.  

The scene that greeted the older man was one of total chaos. Ray Kowalski
partially tangled in a blanket, setting on the floor his back pressed
against the wall handcuffed to a corpse. The Detective's face was a mask
of pain, confusion and abject horror. It was obvious that in his terror he
had inadvertently pulled the corpse to the floor. As Mort approached, Ray
was frantically digging in the pocket of his jeans with his free hand, his
gaze riveted to the ashen body beside him. 

"Get it off...get it off...get it off.." Although barely a whisper, the
desperate mantra spoke volumes about the near hysteria of the speaker. Ray
was totally oblivious to Mort's presence.  

At the same time that Ray had finally dug his cuff key out of his jeans
pocket he felt a calming hand placed on his shoulder. He jumped slightly
and then looked up into the concerned face of the older man. 

"Give me the key Ray." As Mort spoke he could see the confusion slowly
turn to recognition and then embarrassment. He gave Ray's slim shoulder a
reassuring squeeze as he took the key from the Detective's trembling hand
and then turned his attention to the cuffs. 

As soon as Mort had removed the cuff from the corpse, Ray stumbled to his
feet and rushed out the door, the cuffs still swinging from his wrist.
Mort made it to the hall just in time to see the door that led to the
parking lot swing closed. It had been obvious from his movements that Ray
was hurting from more than embarrassment. Mort wasted no time in
following. 

Mort found the struggling Detective at the top of the basement steps his
head over a metal trash can. He carefully approached and gently laid a
hand on Ray's arm and with the other began to lightly rub his back. He
waited patiently as the younger man emptied the contents of his stomach
and slowly began to regain some control.  

Mort was painfully aware of Ray's reaction to the dead. At first it had
caused a rather strained relationship between the two men. Ray had trouble
with the idea of anyone who could enjoy the job that Mort performed, but
time and understanding had eased the tension and created a growing
friendship. Ray had finally come to understand that the older man's black
humor was often aimed at easing the Detective's discomfort in the morgue.
Mort for his part had grown to respect not only Ray's ability as a police
officer, but also his ability to maintain his humanity in an often-inhuman
job. 

As Ray painfully straightened, Mort handed him a handkerchief from his hip
pocket. The younger man's face was terribly pale and his breathing was
ragged and strained. Mort noticed how he held his arm tightly to his side
in an effort to support what the older man suspected was a set of sore
ribs, and how he seemed to be trying to balance most of his weight on one
leg.  

Ray shot an embarrassed glance at his concerned friend and attempted a
small smile, which twisted into a grimace as he tried to shift his
position. "Sorry...I just....I.." 

"Hush...It's alright Ray." Mort shifted the hold on Ray's arm to help
support his weight. "It will be alright my boy just tell me what has
happened here today?"  

"Ya ever hear of a good ole blanket party?" Ray grimaced again as he tried
to put some pressure on his right leg. 

"Ah. Do you mean the practice in the ranks of the military to discipline
their own?" 

"Yup...Ya just missed one." 

"Come we will go back to my office and call Lt. Welsh, and then..." 

"No way. No how....not now, not ever." Ray weakly raised his hand to halt
the older man's protest. "The biggest advantage of the blanket party is
dat I ain't gotta clue who done it...And all it'll cause now is more
trouble...especially for me."  

"But Ray..." 

Before the two men could continue the conversation Frannie came bouncing
up the steps on her way out to lunch. Mort quickly gathered up the
handcuff still dangling from Ray's wrist and hid it in his large weathered
hand. Ray who still had a death grip on the trash barrel closed his eyes
and groaned in despair. 

"Hey....The cold meat party finally get to ya there Bro?" It wasn't until
Frannie got a good look at Ray's pale shaky form that her tone began to
change. "Geeze! Ray! Oh my Gosh are you alright?" 

"Ya Frannie I'm okay...I just...." 

"Francesca." Mort quickly interrupted. "Ray is going to be fine. I'm
afraid that the blue flu is not the only flu going around right now. If
you would be kind enough to explain things to Lt. Welsh I shall drive our
young friend home." 

"Gosh Mort...I thought it was just...well...You know that thing he's got
about the morgue...I'm sorry Ray." Frannie gently took hold of Ray's
trembling arm and then turned her attention back towards Mort. "I can
drive him home Mort. I know how busy you are today, and I...."	

"That is quite alright Francesca. I have to make a run to the Drugstore
anyway so I will do the honors. Please just be sure and talk to the
Lieutenant." At Frannie's hesitation Mort continued in his most serious
tone. "Go...Go...I want to get this boy home sometime today." 

"Ok...Ok...Geeze I'm goin'." She gave Ray's arm a quick squeeze as she
turned back down the stairs to the station. "I'm sorry Ray...I'll call ya
tonight...wanna make sure you're okay ya know?" 

"Thanks Frannie." Ray tried to straighten his posture as much as possible
without giving away the fact that it hurt like hell.  

  

  

Mort had helped settle Ray into the passenger seat of his car, removed the
set of handcuffs, and had pulled from the parking lot before they were
able to resume their interrupted conversation.	

"Has this affair anything to do with the labor unrest of the last few
days?" 

"Ya. I guess ya could say dat." Ray shot Mort a quick measuring glance. "I
kinda broke ranks da udder day....But I was just tryin' ta help Fraser." 

"There is nothing wrong with that Ray. Ben is your partner. I believe that
as long as his conduct remains within the law, that there is where your
loyalties should lie." 

Ray studied the face of the man beside him for a moment, and then visibly
relaxed. It seemed that Mort understood the dynamics of true partnership. 


"Do you have any idea of who could be behind this 'blanket party'?"
Although Mort kept his attention on the road he would occasionally glance
in the direction of his companion. 

"Na...Coulda been anyone. I got Frannie ta get me some info...and even
sent a weapon down for finger prints. And then ta top it off, I called
dispatch tryin' ta get us some back-up down at da track." Ray suddenly got
very interested in the sleeve of his light jacket. "They was probably
watchin' me anyway."  

Mort was surprised not only by what Ray said, but also by the resigned
tone that had entered his voice.  

"What do you mean? Who was watching?" Mort couldn't hide the concern in
his voice. 

"Ah...Hell...I don't know....It's just...well this ain't the first time I
done it." Mort couldn't understand the shame that the admission seemed to
bring to the younger man. "The last time I didn't get no blanket party,
but they kinda warned me that dat could be next...and I guess they meant
it huh?"  

"But you did it anyway?" Mort's respect for the skinny blond had just
taken a monumental jump, but he somehow understood that right now it
wasn't something that the blond would want to hear. 

"Ya, but Fraser needed a hand and so...Just don't tell him. Okay?" Mort
couldn't hide the warm smile that Ray's attempt to protect his friend
brought to his face.  

Ray gave Mort his most earnest gaze. "You know how he is....If he finds
out about dis thing he's gonna go nuts. He'll either wanna try and hunt
down who did it; which ain't gonna happen, or he's gonna get all guilty
about it and make himself miserable and me too." 

"If that is what you want, I will abide by your wishes." Mort gave Ray an
appraising look before he continued. "With one condition." 

"What's dat?" Mort chuckled at Ray's suddenly suspicious glance. 

"Once I get you home you will allow me to check out your injuries." As Ray
began to object, Mort raised his hand to stop his interruption. "Or I can
call Constable Fraser and let him check you out."  

  

  

Mort did make a quick stop at the Drugstore, but it wasn't long before he
had the Detective safely home. Ray tried several different schemes to get
out of letting Mort check him over, but the older man was wise to all of
them. It wasn't until Mort made a move toward the phone asking for the
number to the Canadian Consulate that Ray finally dropped his chin to his
chest and admitted defeat. Mort couldn't contain the snorting laughter
that the Detective's actions brought him. Ray Kowalski was indeed an
interesting individual. His personality ran the full gamut from street
smart, wise cracking, tough guy, to the now injured, pouting little boy,
who needed either a good spanking or a reassuring hug.	

Mort carefully helped Ray out of his jacket and shoulder holster and
gently eased his sweatshirt and tee shirt up over his head. The older man
tsked sadly as he sympathetically examined the mottled bruising that was
scattered over Ray's ribcage. He slowly turned him to examine his back.  

"Ah....If we could find the boot heel that corresponds with this pretty
little bruise we could almost use it in court." Mort momentarily forgot
the purpose of his examination. "Would you care to take a look Detective?"


"Sorry dare Mort...But I left my mirror in my udder coat." Ray turned
stiffly and smiled at Mort's embarrassed smirk. "Could we get on wit dis
before I catch a chill?...Ain't nuttin' but a few bruises." 

"Ah.." As Mort spoke he placed one hand on Ray's chest just below his
pectoral muscles and the other against his back and pressed firmly.  

Ray graced him with his cockiest smile. "See." 

It was then that Mort stepped to the Detective's front and shifting his
hands to Ray's sides again pressed firmly. At Ray's sharp intake of breath
Mort gently pulled the younger man's head down to rest against his
shoulder and chuckled softly. "Ray my boy....You may think that they are
bruised, but I think they are broken." 

Mort eased Ray back against the counter and then still chuckling under his
breath stepped over to remove a rib-belt from the bag that he had brought
from the drugstore. "I did not spend all of those years on my education
for nothing young man." 

After he had Ray in the rib-belt he helped him gingerly slip back into his
sweatshirt. "Now. Drop your pants." 

"What?!!" 

Mort had to laugh again at the shocked look on the Detective's face. He
would have to see if he could do this more often. Taking care of these
'tough' guys was really quite entertaining. 

"It is obvious that you have received an injury to your leg, and you did
agree, howbeit quite reluctantly, 

to letting me evaluate your injuries...So, you see you will drop your
pants or I will call Benton."  

Ray smiled in resignation. "You're enjoyin' dis deal way to much." 

"Ray my boy...I have raised four children...All of whom are now
adults...And only today do I realize just how much I have missed
out-smarting them." Mort laid his big hands on the blonde's thin shoulders
and carefully gave him a small shake. "Dealing with one child is much like
dealing with any other...Now.." 

"I know...I know...Drop da pants."  

It didn't take Mort long to reach a professional conclusion in regards to
Ray's leg injury. "What we have here is a severe contusion of the
semimembranosus, the semitendinosus, and the biceps femoris, at the
crossing of the gluteus maximus. Quite a painful prognosis I'm afraid." 

"Mort. English...if...you... please." As he spoke Ray made an attempt to
twist himself around in a futile desire to see the back of his leg.
"Geeze...You and dat Mountie." 

"Ray my friend you have a deep bruise of the hamstring just below your
butt cheek." As Mort finished his examination he gave Ray's butt a quick
slap. 

"Ya well...Dat and the hoof print on my back is what I get fer tryin' to
cover my middle...which didn't work to well, I might add."  

Mort studied the young Detective before him and couldn't hide his sadness.
He knew what it was like to be punished when you had in reality done
nothing wrong. And to know that Ray had chosen to do the right thing with
full knowledge of the possible consequences made it even worse.  

  

  

Mort soon had his patient set up on the couch with a cup of coffee the TV
remote and an ice bag stuffed into the leg of his sweat pants. When he was
satisfied that he had done as much as he could Mort settled his old bones
on the coffee table and facing his friend suddenly turned quite serious.  

"Listen to me Ray. I know that you want to protect Benton, but it is going
to be very difficult to hide these injuries from him." Mort dropped his
gaze to the floor in embarrassment before he continued. "Add that to the
fact that I told Francesca that you had the flue which means that now the
entire station knows...and well...The whole situation has become very
complicated. How are you going to handle this?"  

"Ah don't worry about it buddy. I'll think a somethin'." To be honest Ray
hadn't the foggiest idea of how to handle it, but he felt that Mort had
already done more than enough. "Ain't the first time I been hurt and
nobody found out about it....I don't handle hospitals much better dan I do
da morgues." Ray dropped his head in shame.  

Mort felt bad for the young man. He had heard enough about some of the
exploits in which the Mountie and the Detective had been engaged, that he
knew courage was not something that was lacking in Ray, but a phobia such
as his was something that often defied courage. He sorely wished that
there were something more that he could do.  

"Ray we all have difficult things in our lives with which we must deal."
Mort gently laid his hand on Ray's arm as he continued. "In my own
life...I am afraid of closed places; claustrophobia. It isn't real bad,
but it is something I must deal with. I am more fortunate than you are
though...I have only one frightening thing with which to deal...You
however..." Mort stopped and gave Ray a sly wink. 

"What?!!" Ray couldn't contain his answering smile. 

"You my dear boy must also deal with Benton."  

  

  

  

It had been four days since 'the blanket party' and Ray was running on
empty. With Mort's help the Detective had come up with a story that
everyone seemed to accept, but the energy he was burning to keep up the
ruse was immense. And between overtime hours on the job and troubled sleep
it was energy he couldn't spare. 

Mort and Ray had convinced everyone that it wasn't the flu that had caused
the Detective to throw his cookies that day, but the combination of a
greasy hamburger for lunch and the trip to the morgue. As far as the limp
and the sore ribs, they had concocted the story that Ray had pulled a
hamstring running down the stairs of his apartment building and had broken
his ribs in the fall. 

Ray hated the need to lie to his partner, but he felt it was necessary to
protect Fraser from the heavy guilt trip that the knowledge of how Ray was
really injured, and why, would cause the Mountie. He knew his friend was
still struggling with the confused feelings that had been caused by that
damn bounty hunter, and figured his partner didn't need to be saddled with
any more grief for awhile. Ray felt that now all he had to do was keep
Fraser from seeing the bruises and he would be home free. 

Mort had made a suggestion that the Detective pick up a pair of
compression pants from the sporting goods store to help support his
bruised hamstring. A hamstring injury was so difficult to wrap
successfully without the use of adhesive tape, which could really be
uncomfortable, and although the tight fitting pants could be aggravating
they really did seem to help. As long as Ray could keep moving, his leg
wasn't to bad to deal with, but anytime he sat for a while it pained him
terribly. It was both his effort to hide his pain and the attempt to
appear his normal energetic self that was wearing him down. There were
many times in the day when his one desire was to find a nice quiet place
to just curl up and cry.  

Fraser had been busy enough at the Consulate that the partners had only
seen each other twice in the four days. Ray had stayed home the first day,
and Fraser in his concern had requested the day off as well, to insure his
friend's well being. The Mountie had stopped by the station the next day
for a quick check, but had been busy making up for his day off every
since. Ray was glad for that luck, but knew full well that any flaw in his
performance would get back to his friend in a hurry. Frannie was watching
him like a hawk. He knew that she was just concerned, and feeling a little
guilty over her actions that day, but she would bust her butt to run to
the Mountie if she felt Ray was struggling.  

Initially Mort had been more than glad to help his young friend, but by
the fourth day he was beginning to doubt the wisdom of their plan. Ray
looked terrible and not even his great performance could hide that. His
face was drawn and haggard, and the tight lines that could be seen at the
corners of his eyes and mouth spoke volumes about his efforts to hide his
pain. His eyes were often bloodshot and it was obvious to the older man
that Ray wasn't getting near enough sleep to allow his overtaxed body to
regenerate. 

That morning Mort had confronted Ray on the subject. The skinny blond had
assured him that in just two days it would be his weekend off, and
although Welsh had offered him the overtime, he was going to spend it at
home in bed. It was that assurance and Kowalski's earnest pleas that had
kept Mort from having a talk with Welsh, but the older man was adamant in
his warnings to take it as easy as possible and get some sleep.  

  

  

  

It had been two days since Fraser had found the opportunity to check in at
the 27th. When he first entered 

The squadroom Benton had noticed Ray setting at his desk, writing busily
in a file. He had just finished a quick conversation with Huey and had
headed toward his partner when Ray, his nose still buried in the file,
struggled to his feet and turned for Welsh's office. Fraser was appalled.
For the first few steps Ray could hardly walk at all. His hand was pressed
securely against his ribs and his face was twisted into a pained grimace. 


What really bothered the Mountie more than anything though was Ray's
reaction when he glanced up and noticed his partner. He instantly dropped
his hand, forced himself to mask the limp as much as he was able, and shot
Fraser the biggest brightest smile that he had to offer. None of these
heroics could hide the obvious. Ray was hurting and exhausted and he
didn't want Fraser to know it. 

"Fraser!...Buddy." Ray made his way to the Mountie's side and gave him a
poke on the arm. "Ice Queen finally cut ya loose for a while?" 

"Well Ray. I have caught up on my necessary reports and..... Yes she cut
me loose." Fraser quickly ran his thumb along his brow and gave his
partner a close inspection. 

Ray was well aware that he had blown it. Fraser was no dummy, and it was
clear to Ray that he was in for the fully concerned, upset Mountie
routine.  

"Listen Fraser!...Don't start alright...I'm fine." Ray slowly continued
his journey to Welsh's office, the Mountie on his heels. 

"Ray my friend. I don't want to have to start on you, but it is quite
obvious to even the most dull that you are not by any stretch of the
imagination fine." Fraser laid his hand solidly on his partner's shoulder
and forced him to a halt. "Ray, look at me." 

Ray dropped his head in defeat. He slowly turned to face his partner and
waited for the inevitable. 

Fraser put his hand under his friend's chin and raised it to force Ray to
make eye contact. " Ray you are exhausted, and in pain. I think the
Lieutenant would understand if you were to seek his permission to go home
and get some rest." Benton tipped his head to the side and after studying
his partner carefully for a moment continued. "Why are you doing this
Ray?" 

Ray instantly dropped his gaze to the floor. "I'm just doin' my job here
Frase. Everything is way behind and..." 

"I'm not talking about your job Ray." Fraser again laid his hand on the
thin shoulder of his friend and coaxed him to make eye contact. "Why are
you trying so hard to convince me that you aren't hurting?"  

"Dis is why!...Dis...What you're doing right now....I got a job ta do here
ya know...and I really ain't got da time or da energy ta do my job, and
keep you happy too." Ray didn't want to get angry at his partner, he knew
the Mountie was just worried about him, but he was tired and he was
hurting, and it was taking everything he had just to stay on his feet at
all.  

It was just as Ray turned to enter Welsh's office that his burly boss came
busting out the door his gaze turned over his shoulder concentrating on
his conversation with of all people Mort. The result was inevitable. Welsh
very nearly had the wind knocked out of him and Ray ended up on the floor.
 

Ten minutes later Ray was setting on the couch in the Lieutenant's office.
Fraser and Mort actually had to carry their near unconscious friend into
the room. Fraser now sat at his partner's side gently rubbing his back and
quietly coaching him on regaining control of his ragged breathing. Mort
and Welsh hovered near both appalled by the younger man's appearance.
Ray's face lacked all color, and although he was giving it everything he
had he couldn't control his trembling.	

"I want you to go home Detective, and I don't want to see your skinny butt
in here until Monday." Welsh wasn't just feeling guilty about nearly
knocking his friend out. He was feeling totally ashamed that in the
confusion of the last several days he hadn't even noticed what poor shape
that friend was in. 

For once in his life Ray didn't even have the ambition to argue. That in
itself worried his friends as much as anything. 

"The Lieutenant is right Ray." Mort was feeling equally ashamed for his
part in this ill-conceived plan. "You have given it your best effort and I
believe it is time to admit that you need to re-group. You may have lost a
battle but you have not lost the war."	

Ray shot a quick glance towards Fraser and then raised his gaze to Mort's
concerned face. "Ya...okay....Ya got a point...I surrender." Fraser
noticed the meaningful expressions that were exchanged between the two,
and suddenly began to feel that there was more to what was being said then
either he or Welsh were aware of.  

  

  

Fraser's concern for his partner didn't ease when he got Ray back to his
apartment. Although he had gotten his breathing under control his partner
was still incredibly pale and had yet to get complete control of his
trembling. 

Ray had shrugged off Fraser's offer to help him get out of his street
clothes and into a set of sweats, sending him to the kitchen instead to
make them both some tea. The Mountie was near the point of checking on
Ray's progress when his spiky haired friend slowly limped out of the
bedroom and carefully settled himself at one end of the couch.	

Fraser handed his partner a cup of tea and settled himself in the
overstuffed chair. He studied his partner carefully. He still didn't look
very good. 

"I think it would be wise Ray, if you were to just go to bed; once you
have finished your tea of course." Fraser had fixed Ray a cup of herbal
tea, which should help him relax. "You look terrible." 

"Thanks Frase...That's something I needed ta hear." Ray smiled weakly
before he continued. "I didn't mean ta yell at ya Buddy...I
just....well...I know ya were worried about me and... I shouldn't a got
mad....Dat's all."  

"That's quite alright Ray. You were obviously stressed." Fraser cracked
his neck to the side. "May I ask you a question Ray." 

"Ta be honest buddy...Can't we just leave it alone?" At Fraser's hurt
expression Ray quickly raised his hand and sadly shook his head. "I mean
just fer now...I ain't even thinkin' straight...and I really don't need
anything else ta deal wit right now...sorry." The last was barely a
whisper. 

"Don't apologize Ray. I understand." Fraser sat up on the edge of the
chair and carefully placed his teacup on the coffee table. "I guess I just
want to understand why you felt you had to push yourself so hard to hide
the fact that you were in such pain." 

Ray looked at his friend and smiled wearily. "I know it sounds stupid,
buddy...but I didn't want ya ta worry. I knew ya already had enough junk
ta deal with. You didn't need ta be worryin' about me too."  

Fraser looked at his friend a small-bemused smile curving his lips.
"Didn't work to well did it?"  

Ray smiled back shyly. "Did for a couple days anyway....Just bein' stupid
again....huh?" 

The smile instantly left the Mountie's face. "Don't do that Ray. You are
not stupid. And what you did was not stupid. A bit misguided perhaps, but
not stupid. You were being again what you have always been: my friend." 

Ray studied his partner carefully. What he saw in the Mountie's blue eyes
seemed to ease a tension he hadn't even been aware of. 

"Thanks Frase." As Ray spoke he stiffly leaned up and set his cup on the
table. He then gingerly stretched himself out on the couch and flipped on
the TV. At Fraser's stern look Ray spoke again. "Chill Frase. It's still
daylight out. I can't go ta sleep durin' the day unless I'm in front a the
TV...It has ta be like an accident or somethin'...Ya know?"  

Benton chuckled under his breath as he stepped into the bedroom to get his
partner a blanket. Ray was asleep before he even got back.  

  

  

  

  

Ray Kowalski hadn't moved in over two hours. For Fraser it was one more
indication of just how exhausted his friend was. Ray was normally a very
restless sleeper. His usual near constant motion while awake only slightly
dampened by the need of sleep.	

Although the Mountie had found a rather interesting documentary on TV he
often caught himself just staring at his slumbering friend. Benton had
never had many friends in his life, but Ray Kowalski had quickly become
one of his best. Fraser still missed Ray Vecchio and thought of him often,
but the bond that had formed between him and Kowalski was in many ways
much stronger. Kowalski had made it his mission in life to get to know the
real Benton Fraser and in the process had broken through some walls that
the Mountie hadn't even realized were there. From the first day they met,
his new partner had forced him to face and explore once uncharted depths
of his own carefully guarded psyche. Through it all, the skinny blond
willingly accepted everything he found. There was usually some
good-natured ribbing to endure, but the simple acceptance that followed
had slowly begun to allow Fraser to relax and enjoy his own uniqueness.  

Right now Fraser was more than a little upset with Ray over this latest
episode, but the reasoning behind his friend's actions meant more to him
than he would ever be able to explain. 

Benton still couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Ray's story
than he was telling, but the Mountie was willing to wait until his partner
was feeling better to press the issue. Ray had always been much more open
and easy with his feelings and yet Fraser sometimes thought that his
friend was still one of the most complicated individuals that he had ever
met. But he had learned some things along the way as well. One thing he
had learned about his mercurial friend was that he couldn't hold things
back for long. Fraser knew that all you had to do was push the right
buttons, and he knew what buttons to push.  

  

  

Perhaps it was the deep rhythmic breathing coming from the couch, but soon
Fraser found himself struggling to keep his own eyes open. He had just
allowed himself the luxury of laying his head back against the chair when
a soft moan from his friend jerked him awake. Ray had begun to mumble in
his sleep and he seemed to be struggling against some unseen enemy. Fraser
watched in concern, not sure if he should try and wake his friend, or wait
and see if he would calm down on his own.  

Ray's left arm slid off the couch, his hand banging loudly against the
coffee table. Fraser, his decision made, carefully stepped to his friend's
side and gently grasped his dangling wrist. 

The room seemed to explode. 

As Ray cried out Mort's name he threw himself from the couch and tripping
over the table landed in a heap in front of the TV. 

After recovering from his initial shock Fraser rushed to his friend's
side. Ray's eyes were open but it was obvious that he wasn't really awake.
He lay on his side, his body curled in the fetal position. Though his arms
were held tightly against his sides, he was frantically rubbing at his
left wrist, mumbling something under his breath. Fraser knelt beside his
friend and carefully lifted his upper body onto his lap. He leaned in and
could finally understand what the blond was saying.  

"Get it off...get it off...get it off." 

Benton gently wrapped his arms around Ray's thin form and taking hold of
both of his friend's wrists carefully pulled them snug against his chest.
"I've got it Ray. It's okay now. It's off. You're all right now. It's
off."  

Fraser had no idea what he was talking about, but Ray instantly began to
relax. The Mountie lowered his head and continued to murmur reassuring
words in Ray's ear. Rocking his partner slowly as he spoke. 

"Sorry...Sorry Frase....I'm sorry." Benton was sure that Ray was still not
awake, but his friend's words nearly broke his heart. 

"It's alright Ray....I'm right here....You have nothing to be sorry for." 


Ray's mumbling finally stopped and Fraser could feel him relaxing even
more into his arms. Soon the blond head lulled over against his neck and
the deep rhythmic breathing of sleep returned. 

The Mountie held the now still form tightly, still gently rocking him. "Oh
Ray. What is going on with you?" Fraser had to clamp his eyes tightly shut
against the sting of his tears. His partner was hurting in more ways than
he could understand and it seemed so unfair. "It's going to be alright
Ray...We'll figure this out...I swear to you we will."	

Benton held on to his friend for several minutes before rousing him just
enough to get him to his feet. Fraser then easily gathered him in his arms
and carried him to the bedroom.  

Fraser gently laid his partner on the bed. Ray's tee shirt had ridden half
way up his back exposing the bruises that covered his torso. Benton spoke
soothingly as he gently rolled Ray onto his side to pull his shirt back
into place. It was then that he saw the bruise on his partner's back.
Fraser was appalled. The bruise was in the perfect shape of a boot heel.
It didn't take the Mountie long to quickly check out the other marks as
well. He had expected the blond to be carrying some bruises, but these
marks spoke more of the toe of a boot rather than a collision with a wall
during a fall. 

Ray was still more asleep than awake, and the Mountie suddenly needed to
see the leg injury as well. He quietly reassured his partner that they
just needed to get his sweat pants off so that he wouldn't get to hot
under the covers. Ray mumbled something under his breath, but shifted his
body to aid in the effort.  

Fraser nearly groaned in defeat when he realized that although Ray had
taken off the rib belt he still wore the tight compression pants. He knew
that the effort it would take to get those off would wake his partner up
completely and that would probably lead to a confrontation. Instead he
again gently rolled Ray up on his side and took a careful look at the back
of his leg. He knew that the injury had been to his hamstring and he could
see that even with the compression pants there was considerable swelling
in that area, but the telling factor, was again the bruising. Ray was
black and blue clear down below his knee. There was no way that a pulled
muscle would produce enough internal trauma to account for a bruise
sufficient in size to have spread this far. Even figuring in the pull of
gravity there would have to have been a large amount of fluid involved for
it to have gone below his knee. Fraser gently pulled the compression pants
away from the back of Ray's leg allowing him to see more of his friend's
thigh. It was almost solid black.  

Fraser fought to control his rage. Someone had done this to his partner.
For some reason his partner felt he had to hide that fact. The Mountie
knew instinctively that it was another attempt on his friend's part to in
some way protect him. Ray was going to have a lot of explaining to do.	

  

  

  

It was only an hour later that a small knock sounded on Ray's door.
Francesca Vecchio stood waiting in the hall. She carried a large bag in
her arms. Fraser took the bag from the petite woman and ushered her in. 

"Hello Fraser." Ever the flirt Frannie batted her eyes at the blushing
Mountie as she passed. "Ma wanted me to bring Ray some stew. She's always
afraid that he doesn't eat right, and I told her he wasn't feelin' to
good."	

As she spoke she busily removed the crock-pot from the bag, put it on the
counter, and plugged it in. "There. That should last him awhile. He loves
Ma's stew. How is he anyway?" 

"He's sleeping Francesca. I'm afraid he has pushed himself very near his
limit." Fraser's initial embarrassment began to ease, as Frannie genuinely
seemed more interested in Ray's well being than continuing the flirtation.


"Ya. Poor ole Bro's had a rough couple a days." Frannie made her way to
the bedroom door and carefully peeked in. "One of these days he'll learn
ta stay away from the morgue." 

Fraser's interest was immediately aroused. "What do you mean Francesca?
What does the morgue have to do with any of this?" 

"Well geeze Frase...It doesn't really have anything to do with the klutz
falling down the stairs....It's just that well...That day didn't get off
to a great start for him...And then he tells everyone it's 'cause he ate a
greasy hamburger...Ya right....Like nobody knows that he can't handle...."


"Francesca! Please." Frannie turned back to Fraser in surprise at the
almost urgent tone of the Mountie's voice.  

Fraser quickly ran his thumb along his brow and gave the dark eyed woman a
reassuring smile. "Excuse me Francesca. I didn't mean to be abrupt, but
could you please explain to me what you are talking about?" 

Francesca Vecchio was no dummy. She knew her Mountie well enough to know
that something wasn't right. She quickly walked over to his side and
carefully studied those beautiful blue eyes. 

"What's goin' on Benton?" 

"I really don't know Francesca. I just know that Ray did not fall down any
stairs that day." Fraser carefully took Frannie's arm and led her to the
kitchen table where they sat down facing each other. "I must ask you to
keep this between the two of us until I can find out what really took
place. I also need you to tell me everything you know about what happened
that day." 

"Sure Frase." Frannie took a deep breath as she ran over in her mind what
she knew. "The place was a mad house that morning. First full day back
from that blue flu thing.. ya know...Anyway just before lunch I get this
call from someone tellin' me that Mort needed ta see Ray about that body
they found in the park...And..." 

"Excuse me Francesca. It wasn't Mort who called?" 

Frannie instantly stiffened. "No...Oh my gosh Frase...I don't know who it
was...We were so busy and I never even gave it a thought, but it wasn't
Mort....Oh geeze Frase do you think?...." 

"I don't know Francesca." Fraser carefully laid his hand on Frannie's arm.
"Please continue."  

"Okay...alright...Anyway. I knew Ray hadn't eaten a greasy hamburger or
anything else for that matter, so when I left for lunch I went out through
the basement exit ta see if he wanted me ta get him anything."	

Frannie was concentrating hard trying not to leave out even the smallest
detail. "Mort musta had an 

accident or somethin' cause when I stopped in there the only thing I say
was this corpse...just layin'on the floor. Made me about half sick myself
so when I got outside and saw Ray loosin his breakfast in a trash can I
figured he mustta saw it too....But once I got a good look at him...I mean
Geeze...He really looked terrible, so when Mort said he had the flu I
believed him. But when he came back to work so soon tellin' everyone about
that greasy sandwich...Which I know he didn't eat...I figured it was
seein' that body and he was just to embarrassed to admit it."  

Frannie dropped her gaze to the table. "You know I pick on him a lot
Frase, but I didn't tell anyone. Ray can't help what the morgue does to
him, and I didn't want the guy's ta give him a rough time about it...Ya
know."	

Fraser gave Frannie a small warm smile. "I'm sure Ray will appreciate
that." 

"Frase?" When Fraser looked into Frannie's dark eyes he could see her
concern. "What do think happened?" 

"At this point Francesca I really don't know what happened. Or where or
how for that matter." Fraser slowly rose to his feet. "All I know for sure
is that Ray did not get those injuries falling down a set of stairs, he
was beaten. I also know that it seems to be very important to him that I
don't find out what did happen. Ray would not lie to me unless he felt
that he had no other option. I also know that I will get to the truth of
this matter, and I think I know where to begin." 

  

  

  

It was late, but Frannie, who had readily agreed to stay with Ray until
his return, had assured the Mountie that Mort would still be at the
station. As he neared the door to the morgue Fraser could hear the older
man's voice as he butchered another classic. Mort looked up as Fraser
entered. The two friends gave each other a knowing look. It was obvious
that both of them were aware of the reason for the Mountie's visit.  

"How is Ray?" Mort carefully laid aside his instruments and turned to gaze
up into the solemn face of his friend. 

"Ray is asleep right now. He is also exhausted and hurt, and I have come
to find out what exactly happened." Fraser waited for a response; his face
set in a mask of determination.  

"I knew he would be unable to keep this from you my boy, but you must
understand that Ray asked me not to tell." Mort rose to his full height
and looked the Mountie straight in the eye. "If he had asked this of you;
what would you do?"  

Fraser dropped his gaze to the floor and rubbed his thumb along the ridge
of his brow. 

"I would try to honor his wishes." Fraser then raised his gaze to the
older man's equally determined face.  

"I will say only one thing to you Benton; Ray is only trying to protect
your feelings. I know you are his friend, but I hope you appreciate what a
friend he is in return. Your young partner is a very brave, unselfish man
who is willing to put you and what is right before any concern for
himself. I know that you are probably angry with some of the choices he
has made, but he has done only what he knew to do." 

Fraser had come here with one intention: to find the truth. He knew that
from the lips of this old man he had done just that. All the bullheaded
resolve with which he had entered the room suddenly drained away. 

Benton looked into Mort's eyes and sighed deeply. "Someone tried to kick
in the ribs of my best friend. Am I wrong for wanting to find out who, and
why?" 

"Ray's ribs will heal. He did not deserve what was done to him, but as
badly as I would like to find the ones who did this cruel thing, we will
never know." Mort at last broke eye contact as he continued. "As far as
the why: that is for Ray to tell you."	

  

  

  

Fraser stopped by the Consulate on his way back to Ray's apartment. He
knew that the confrontation to come would be easier on his partner if Dief
were there to lend moral support. The Mountie had to smile at the thought
of how the Detective and the wolf always seemed to end up on the same side
of any argument. Whether it was about junk food, or what time to start the
day. Ray and Dief had come to terms the first day that they had met and
the unusual bond that had developed seemed only to get stronger. 

Benton drove slowly through the now quiet streets. The fact that he was
driving Ray's beloved GTO was only part of the reason. Mort had been true
to his word, and although he had agreed to stop by Ray's apartment in the
morning, he had refused to say anything else about what he knew.  

At first it had bothered the Mountie that Ray had gone to Mort and not to
his partner, but upon reflection he realized that this was not the first
time that his spiky haired friend had gone to Mort. When Kuzma had nearly
bitten his ear off, Ray had gone to Mort to get it doctored, even after
Welsh had ordered him to go to the hospital. There was also the fact that
Mort had been the one to take Ray home after he had gotten sick in the
morgue. It only made sense that between how Ray felt about hospitals, and
the notion that he had to hide the nature of his injuries that he would go
to Mort. 

It was obvious to Fraser that Ray was trying to protect him, but from
what? Fraser knew that if either he or Ray were in eminent danger, Ray
would not be home in bed. His friend was a good cop, and would have put
their safety first. Mort had said that Ray was trying to protect his
feelings, but in what way? By lying? By hiding not only what had been done
to him, but also who had done it, and why? Fraser was at a complete loss,
but he trusted his partner. The Mountie had to agree with Mort on one
thing: he was upset with Ray's choices, but he knew that Ray was doing the
best he knew to do.  

  

  

  

It had taken some coaxing and a promised explanation, but Frannie had
finally gone home. Fraser couldn't help but smile at her hesitation to
leave. The relationship between Ray Kowalski and his pretend sister was
very much like any other brother-sister relationship. They often fought
like cats and dogs between themselves, but let a third party come on the
scene and try to cause trouble for one, and the hapless intruders had
better be prepared to face them both.  

Except for a short nap on the couch, Fraser had spent a long night,
sipping tea and restlessly roaming his friend's apartment. He had
understood that Ray needed sleep right now more than he did anything else.
Morning would be soon enough to face that which must be faced. The Mountie
was glad that Mort had agreed to join them. Benton felt that Ray would be
more forthcoming if he realized that although Mort had kept his secret,
the older man also felt it necessary for him to share the truth with his
partner.  

Mort had said that he would stop by at about 8am so Fraser had planned to
wake Ray at seven to give him a chance to wake up and eat a good
breakfast. It wasn't even six though when Fraser heard a strange noise
coming from the bedroom. Initially the Mountie feared that his partner was
again in the throes of another nightmare, but when he stepped into the
bedroom what he saw brought an indulgent smile to his tired face. Dief and
Ray were in the middle of a major wrestling match. At the moment it would
seem that the wolf had the upper hand for Ray, besides being handicapped
was hopelessly tangled in the bedding, trying valiantly to force Dief into
submission.  

"A disgrace to your breed."  

  

  

  

By 7:30 Ray had taken a very long very hot shower, and the partners had
shared a good breakfast. Part of Ray's had been shared with Dief, on the
sly of course. The ever-alert Mountie wasn't fooled in the slightest, but
he had to admit that they were getting better at it, and had the
innocent-face routine down pat. Ray was on his third cup of coffee when
Fraser began what he knew was going to be a painful process. 

"Mort will be here around eight." Benton could sense his partner's
immediate discomfort. 

"Why?...I'm okay...I don't need...."  

"It's not that Ray." Fraser could see the anger begin to rise in his
partner. He had hoped to avoid that, but he also knew it was one of the
skinny blonde's main defenses. "I saw the bruises. You did not fall down a
flight of stairs." 

Ray sat silently. He had dropped his attention to Dief and was nervously
scratching the wolf's ear. 

"I went to see Mort yesterday while you were asleep." Fraser quickly threw
up his hand to halt Ray's planned interruption. "He didn't tell me what
happened, but he wouldn't lie for you either."	

Ray snagged his coffee cup and limped into the living room, with Dief
close behind. Fraser sat quietly for a moment collecting his thoughts and
then followed. Ray had settled at one end of the couch. The wolf had
jumped up beside him and had his head resting in his lap.  

Benton sat on the coffee table facing his two friends. "Listen to me Ray.
I know that for some reason you feel that you have to protect me, but I
want to know what happened." 

"Why can't ya just leave it alone Fraser?" The pleading tone of his
partner's voice almost made the Mountie falter. 

"You are my partner Ray, and my friend." Fraser ran his thumb along his
brow in his usual show of nervousness. "If this had happened to me
wouldn't you feel that you had the right to know?" 

"Ya sure, but if your partner and your friend asked ya ta leave it
alone...and told ya that it was all over, and nothin' could be done about
it...wouldn't ya trust him on that?" Fraser had to admit that Ray had a
point, but it was time to start pushing buttons. 

"Why should I believe him Ray?" Fraser hesitated to go on, but Ray's anger
was the price to be paid for getting to the truth. "He had already lied to
me once."  

"I had ta lie to ya!..." Ray struggled to his feet and limped over to the
turtle tank.  

"How can any partnership continue Ray, if one partner must always wonder
if the other is telling him the truth?" Ray finally turned to face his
friend. The anguish that Fraser saw in those blue eyes was painful to see,
but he pushed on. "A lie...no matter the motive behind it, is still a
lie."  

It was at that moment that a knock was heard at the door. Fraser gave an
inward sigh of relief. Mort's timing was excellent. It was time to start
defusing the bomb. 

  

  

  

Ray moved stiffly to the door, angrily jerked it open, and then promptly
turned and limped back to his former place on the couch. 

Mort cheerfully strode down the short hall to join the two combatants in
the living room. 

"Ah...Good morning boys....I see you started without me." Fraser had to
bite down a chuckle. He knew what Ray's reaction to that would be. "How
are you feeling this morning Ray? Better I hope." 

"Ya, Ya...I'm just fine....Least I was 'till nosey Parker there got
started." Ray shot both of his friends an angry glance.  

"Ray. I only want you to tell me the truth about what happened." Fraser
motioned Mort toward the overstuffed chair at the end of the couch while
he resumed his perch on the coffee table.  

"It's like dat guy said in da movie Fraser. 'You can't handle the truth."
Fraser couldn't hide the hurt that showed in his blue eyes. Ray quickly
turned his gaze towards Mort. "Will ya jus tell him ta leave it alone!?"  

"Boys, boys, boys....would you listen to yourselves?" Mort slipped his
glasses off his nose and stuck them in his pocket. "You are partners, but
right now you don't sound like it."  

Mort gave each young man a stern look and then turned very serious. 

"Benton. Ray is your friend, and I know that you are worried for him and
you want to know what happened, but Ray has a point. You must decide if
the truth is really what you want to hear?" Before Fraser could answer
Mort held up his hand. "I know you well enough to know that in this case
the truth will be painful for you. You must consider your answer
carefully." 

Fraser was taken aback. It suddenly came home to him that if Mort was so
convinced of the painful nature of the truth it was something for which he
must prepare himself. As he pondered that point Mort quickly turned his
attention to Ray. 

"Ray my boy. I know that your intentions were good, and if you could have
pulled this off Benton would have never known that you had lied to him.
But he knows. If Benton feels that he can handle the truth it will then
become his responsibility to deal with it in the proper way. So...If he
wants the truth, you must trust him to do that, and tell him." Mort turned
his attention back to the Mountie. "It is important to clear the air...but
Benton, the question comes back to you. Can you handle the truth?" 

Fraser sat in silence for a very long time. It was a question that he
hadn't expected. But Mort was right. Once he knew the truth he would be
solely responsible for his reaction to it. The Mountie carefully
considered his answer. Finally he turned his gaze to his friend. "Ray. I
want to know what happened." 

Ray's blue eyes snapped with anger. "Oh ya...You say dat now Fraser." If
he could have done it without falling over he would have jumped up from
the couch and started to pace, but right now the best he could do was
stick his finger in his partner's face. "You look me in da eye!...You look
me right here in da eye! And you tell me that no matter what...And I
mean.. No.. Matter.. What... you will not get all wierded out over dis
stupid thing. 'Cause so help me God if ya do I am gonna kick ya in da
head. I will kick you in da head so fast dat ya ain't even gonna see it
comin'." Ray placed a supporting hand against his protesting ribs and
suddenly wished he had thought to put on that rib belt. "You promise me
dat Fraser. You look me right in da eye and you promise me dat. Or you can
get up and walk out dat door. Partnership over...period!" 

Fraser carefully wiped a spot of his partner's spit off his cheek and
evenly met Ray's angry gaze. 

"Ray you have my word as a member of The Royal Canadian Mounted Police
that I will not get 'weirded out'. I'm not saying that I won't react in
some way, because I do care about you very much, but I will not, as you
say, 'weird out'." 

Fraser's admission of his feelings for him instantly shut down Ray's
anger. He opened his mouth as if to speak, only to snap his mouth shut and
sink back into the couch. He dropped his chin down onto his chest and
sighed deeply. "Ya better be tellin' me da truth buddy." 

"I don't lie Ray." 

"I know...I know...Ya can leave all da lyin' ta me." Ray suddenly looked
up into his partner's face. Fraser wasn't really surprised to see the
beginning of tears in his friend's blue eyes. "I'm sorry I lied ta ya
buddy...But I swear I didn't know what else ta do."  

"I know that Ray." As Fraser spoke he gently laid his hand on Ray's knee.
"I know that you would never lie to me unless you felt you had no other
options. That's why it's so important for me to know what happened and how
you were forced into this situation."  

"Ah heck Frase...You know me...I just had my head up my butt...Not payin'
attention and..." 

"That is not true Ray!" Fraser and Kowalski were both slightly startled at
Mort's words. They had become so focused on their conversation that they
had almost forgotten that the older man was still there.  

"You did nothing wrong. You did not deserve what happened to you, and you
were quite expertly set up." At Fraser's puzzled glance Mort continued. "I
was called away from the morgue on a wild goose chase. Ray received a call
that I wanted to see him. It was then that he was jumped." 

Benton's mouth dropped open. He hadn't expected this. "Are you saying that
this happened in the police station?" Fraser turned his startled face
towards his partner. "You were attacked and beaten inside your own
station?" Fraser was fighting for control.  

Ray sat silently his chin resting on his chest. At last he raised his eyes
to meet that of his friend. "Please Fraser. Please don't get all bent
outta shape...It's over...It's done... and I'm gonna be fine." Ray dropped
his gaze back to his lap. "Now ya know why I had ta lie to ya...I knew
you'd get all bent over dis." 

It was the sad defeated tone in his partner's voice that helped bring the
Mountie back from the edge of his rage. He had promised his friend that he
wouldn't overreact, and he knew that in his own self-deprecating way his
partner had found a way to somehow put the responsibility for this
situation back on himself. The Mountie understood that if he allowed his
reaction to cause a fracture in the partnership, Ray would blame himself
for that as well. Fraser took a few deep-calming breaths and then gave
Ray's knee a squeeze, asking through touch for his friend to again look
him in the eye. 

"I'm sorry Ray. I didn't mean to get 'bent', but I did warn you that I
would probably react in some way." At Ray's small smile Fraser continued.
"Please Ray...I know this isn't easy but please, just start from the
beginning and tell me what happened." 

Ray seemed to sink even further back into the couch, and shutting his eyes
let out a long deep sigh. When he finally began his story his voice was
very low, as if ashamed of the details. "I got dis call dat Mort wanted ta
see me about that guy dey found in da park, so I grabs da file and head
off dat way. Once I got down in da hall I...I mean I heard someone behind
me, but I didn't think much about it and...Well anyway I just get ta the
door a the morgue and da lights go out. They throw dis blanket over my
head and some big guy pins my arms ta my sides and just picks me up offa
da ground like I don't weigh nothin'. Somebody else grabs my legs and they
just throw me through da door. Once I landed they just start kickin'.
Somebody grabs my cuffs and I can feel 'em handcuff me
ta...somethin'...so... like a dummy I figure...Alright ....Okay dis part
is over...dare gonna quit...so I guess I kinda relaxed cause that last
kick put my lights out." Ray finally looked up into the concerned eyes of
his friend, an embarrassed smile on his face. "I only ever had one udder
body shot knock me out and dat was in da ring...guy got me with an illegal
punch after da bell and it was lights out Louise."  

Fraser returned Ray's shy crooked smile with one he hoped would be
reassuring. "Then what happened Ray?" 

Fraser couldn't help but notice the quick meaningful glance that Ray shot
towards Mort. "Dat's about it buddy. Next thing I know ole Mort here is
turnin' me loose and da only thing I got on my mind is getting' da hell
outta dare before I hurl all over his floor." 

The fact that Ray had unconsciously began to rub at his left wrist as he
spoke of the need to 'hurl' was not lost on the Mountie, but he carefully
hid the fact that his own gut had started to twist into a tight knot. 

"Who do you think did it Ray?" By now Fraser was pretty sure of what the
answer was going to be, and if he were correct it would answer the
question of why as well. 

"Kinda obvious...ain't it?" Ray gave the Mountie another small smile. "I
ain't got anyone on da outside mad enough ta risk comin' inta the station
after me." 

Fraser dropped his gaze to the hand that was still on his partner's knee.
"So I am to assume it is because of your going against the job action that
took place a few days ago?" 

"Ya it is...But hey." As he spoke Ray laid his hand on top of the
Mountie's and gave it a squeeze. "If I'd a been in the middle of a hot
case, I'da done the same thing....You know how I am with authority type
shit. I don't like anybody tellin' me I gotta go to my room if I don't
wanna. And anyway I even made a few bucks...so no big deal. Right?" 

"So what you are saying, if I may be so bold as to translate, is that it
is no 'big deal' that because of what you did for me, you were attacked,
and beaten unconscious?" 

"Kicked." Ray shot the Mountie his cockiest smile. 

"Ah. Excuse me. Kicked unconscious." Despite the churning in his stomach
Fraser couldn't help but return the smile. 

"What can I say. It was a first." Ray was trying desperately to keep the
mood light. He knew that what had been revealed would hurt the Mountie
terribly. That's why he could have bitten his tongue for what came out of
his mouth next. "Ain't like I hadn't been warned."  

Fraser stared at his partner in shock. "What!?" 

Ray sank back against the couch and ran his hand through his hair.
"Shit...I didn't mean ta...It's just...Shit!" 

"Ray are you saying that you had been warned not to help me and yet
you..." 

"NO!...It ain't like dat!" Ray again straightened and put his hand over
his partners. "It ain't because I helped you...Dis ain't the first time I
went against their stupid blue flu thing, and the last time I did they
warned me dat this whole blanket party thing could be next...But it
wouldn't a made any difference what I was doin'...If I wanted ta do it, it
would a been done, 'cause I ain't gonna let them or anyone else tell me
when I can or can't do my job." As he finished Ray grimaced slightly and
put his hand tight against his side to support his ribs. 

Fraser sat silently as Ray fought to calm his breathing. It seemed to the
Mountie that this nightmare was determined to keep getting worse, and
worse. 

"You tried to tell me Ray." As he spoke Fraser ducked his head in shame.
"I should have listened. I'm sorry." 

"Do not start that 'I'm sorry crap' Fraser. You got nottin' ta be sorry
for." Ray's frustration was beginning to show. "You had nottin' ta do wit
dis so just can it!" 

"You don't understand Ray...I'm afraid that I was less than honest with
you. If not with my words then with my actions." Fraser slowly rose to his
feet, paced to the turtle tank and back again, once more setting down to
face his friend. "There were several times during that period that you
told me you could not 'break ranks' as you put it, and each time I told
you that I knew it and that I understood....But to be honest Ray, and to
my shame, at the same time that I was saying that, I intentionally used my
inflection and body language in such a way as to try and shame you into
being of assistance."  

Benton was surprised to see a wicked little smile appear on his partner's
face. "And do you really believe that I didn't know dat?....Geeze
Fraser....I might a been born in da dark, but it wasn't last night." At
Fraser's surprised expression Ray gave a snoring laugh. "I'm da one wit da
instincts buddy and my instincts were all over dat. And like I said I made
some money on da deal...so it all worked out...Right?"	

Fraser studied his partner closely.  

He shook his head as a rather sad bemused smile began to appear on his
face. He looked sideways at Mort, who had set silently watching the
exchange. Fraser wasn't surprised to see the older man holding his hand
over his mouth to stifle the chuckle that bubbled up from his stout chest.
Benton knew as surely as he was setting here that there were a few facts
that Ray had left out, but he somehow felt that now was not the time to
bring that up. He was going to have to pick the time and place very
carefully. His partner had been hurt enough in the last few days, both
physically and emotionally, and although the Mountie felt that it was
something to be faced, now was not the time.  

  

  

  

The next couple of days weren't easy for Benton Fraser. He had promised
Ray that he wouldn't overreact to the knowledge of how his friend had been
injured, but it hadn't been easy. The feelings of guilt were hard to hide,
especially when he was with his partner. Fraser had stopped by Ray's
apartment each day to check on his friend, and each painful movement or
muffled grunt was like salt in an open wound. He knew that Ray, while in
his presence, was trying very hard to mask the limp and make light of the
stiffness that the damaged ribs were causing. 

There were still issues that needed to be dealt with. It was obvious that
Ray wasn't getting the sleep that he should and although he was looking
better there was still more than a hint of the exhaustion that had helped
to derail his plan to protect his partner. Fraser was sure he knew what
the problem was, but he also knew that it wouldn't be anything that Ray
would want to talk about. It wasn't just the embarrassment that prompted
Ray's silence but once again his desire to protect his partner from the
guilt that it would cause. 

Benton was sure that if he could get Ray to talk about what had happened
in the morgue it would help him get past the trauma that it had caused.
Ray always seemed to find himself lacking, and although it wasn't
something that Fraser understood, he knew that to Ray his inability to
handle this would be just one more indication of what a 'screw-up' he was.
 

Because of these heavy thoughts sleep had not been coming easily for
Fraser either. Often at night he would give up the struggle and take Dief
for an extended morning walk. He had fallen into the habit of walking a
route that took him by his partner's apartment. He would often just stand
and watch Ray's window. It seemed to ease his guilt to know that Ray was
safe and in his bed. It was no surprise to him then that at 4:00am
Saturday morning he was once again nearing his friend's apartment.  

Ray had asked Fraser to come over around 8:00 so that the pair could go
out for breakfast, but that was still four hours away and Ray's light was
on. Fraser instantly tensed. Concern for his partner spurred him on and he
soon found himself at Ray's door. 

The Mountie couldn't suppress a smile as he dug the key for Ray's
apartment out of his jeans. Ray had given it to him right after the Marcus
Ellery incident. Ray had told his partner that if he could sweet talk the
landlady that easily he might as well just make it easier on everyone and
give ole nosey Parker a key.  

Fraser tapped lightly on his friend's door. The Mountie wasn't comfortable
with just letting himself in, but if Ray happened to be asleep he didn't
want to wake him. When one more round of light taps brought no response
Benton quietly opened the door. 

There was soft music coming from the stereo. Fraser had almost made his
way to the bedroom when he noticed his partner at the kitchen table, sound
asleep. Ray sat slumped in a kitchen chair his head laid on his crossed
arms. Benton quickly signaled Dief to stay and cautiously approached his
sleeping friend.  

Benton carefully put his hand on Ray's bony shoulder and spoke his name
quietly. He hoped to rouse Ray just enough to get him moved over to the
couch where he hoped he would be able to get a few more hours of sleep.  

Ray slowly raised his head and clumsily wiped at the drool on his cheek.
He had obviously been asleep for awhile and the awkward position had
caused his sore muscles to stiffen. When he tried to straighten he gave a
small grunt and dropped his hand to support his side. All hope of getting
him to the couch without totally waking him was lost when, with Fraser's
help, he tried to get to his feet. The pain from his damaged hamstring
brought him out of his sleep induced confusion. 

"Frase?"  

"Yes Ray." 

"Whatcha doin' here...Did I over sleep?" 

"No Ray. It's early. You should really go back to bed and get some rest." 

"Na..I'ma...I'm good ta go...What time is it?" 

"It's only 4 o'clock Ray. Why don't you just go on in and lay down for a
while?" As he spoke Fraser tried to maneuver his partner toward the
bedroom, but when Ray got within sight of the couch he stubbornly changed
directions and gingerly settled at the far end. 

Fraser smiled indulgently as Ray sleepily ran his hands through his hair,
blinking his eyes like a baby owl. Dief had quickly joined his pack mate
on the couch and Fraser had to chuckle when his two partners both let out
loud yawns at the same time. 

"You really should try to go back to sleep Ray." 

Still trying to blink the sleep from his eyes Ray gave Fraser a smirky
smile. 

"Coffee...I need coffee...quick." 

Fraser shook his head in mock disgust as he made his way to the kitchen.
The situation seemed be right to bring up the one thing that still needed
to be resolved. As always the Mountie understood that it wasn't going to
be easy for Ray, but even given these circumstances his partner seemed to
be in a pretty good mood. There was also the fact that they had the rest
of the weekend before them to clear any of the flack that might develop.  

After starting a pot of coffee Fraser returned to the living room to find
his partner setting slack-jawed, staring at nothing. It was obvious that
Ray was having trouble getting on track this morning.  

"Catching flies Ray?" 

"Huh?...Oh...Na just slippin' into a caffeine deficiency type stupor
here." Ray smiled warmly at his friend and vigorously rubbed his face.
"Now ya know why I drink da stuff." 

"Ah. I see. I always thought it was because you never seem to get enough
sleep." 

"Well dat may be a factor too, but it's usually just that deficiency
thingy." 

"Why were you sleeping at the kitchen table Ray?" Fraser absently rubbed
his thumb along his eyebrow. "Was it another bad dream?" 

Ray instantly tensed. "I don't know what yer talkin' about." 

"You had one the other day when I brought you home from the station." Ray
had unconsciously begun to slowly rub at his left wrist. "You don't
remember?"  

Ray shyly raised his gaze to meet his friend's. "All I remember is you
puttin' me ta bed."  

"You had fallen asleep on the couch, by accident of course." Both men
smiled at the remembered comment. "You were having a bad dream and when
your arm slipped off the couch I reached over and took hold of 'that'
wrist." As he spoke Fraser pointed to the wrist that Ray was still
rubbing. "You came up off that couch like a missile." 

Ray instantly released his wrist and gave his partner a pained glance. 

"Do you want to talk about it Ray? It may help."  

"Ain't nottin' ta talk about...It's just...Stupid." Ray directed his
attention to rubbing Dief's ear. 

"If it bothering you Ray it isn't stupid." Fraser carefully settled
himself on the coffee table and laid a reassuring hand on his partner's
knee. "You can trust me Ray. I have my share of bad dreams too. Why do you
suppose I go walking a wolf at 4:00 am?" 

Ray looked up at his friend with surprise. "You?" 

"I'm human Ray." Fraser gave a quick smile as he continued. "Talk to me
Ray." 

"I can't buddy...It's just...Ya know...One a dem things." 

Benton rocked back on his pockets placed his hands on his knees and gave
his partner a long appraising stare.  

"What?!" Ray never could handle that look. 

"Ray, Ray, Ray. You're still doing it, aren't you?"  

"What?!" Ray didn't know if he should be getting mad or tickled. 

"You're still trying to protect me. That's it, isn't it?" 

Ray sat silently still rubbing Dief's ear. 

"I want you to listen to me Ray." Fraser again laid his hand on his
partner's knee. "I am going to try and say this in a manner to which you
can relate. I hate what happened, and I think that if I ever found out who
had done this to you I would be very tempted to 'forget Mr. Polite Mountie
and kick 'em in the head'. But you, my friend, asked me not to overreact,
and I have done my best, but I do feel more than a little responsible for
it, and I want to help. We can't let what happened get the best of us, and
if we have to give each other a hand to get past it, well so be it. That's
what partners do."  

Ray sighed with frustration. "I know Frase...It's just..." 

"I know what happened Ray." At Ray's startled glance Fraser started to
explain. "Mr. Logic Ray. I had gathered enough facts about the incident,
and then joined that with your reaction. I know that you were handcuffed
to a corpse." Fraser felt the small shudder that ran through the thin
frame of his friend. 

Ray slowly leaned forward and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"Geeze...It was awful Frase. I mean...I kept tryin' to pull myself up by
the handcuffs and it kept given...and I'm tryin' ta get the stupid blanket
off my head...and tryin' to remember how ta breathe...and I'd pull and
it'd give...and I would try again and it would give...and I finally get
that damn blanket off and this guy is half off the table and lookin' me
dead in da eye. Oh shit I didn't mean dat...But anyway...I look up and dis
stiff is right dare...and I just freaked. I jerked back and slammed inta
da wall so hard I see stars...and dis guy lands right beside me...It's
just...I...well shit....I hate bein' that scared a somethin....I mean it's
stupid ta get that scared over somethin'." Ray finally looked up at his
friend. He had half expected to see some disgust, or condemnation
reflected in the Mountie's face. All he saw was concern, and
understanding. Ray was finally able to muster a small smile. "I wouldn't
even let Mort give me my cuffs back. I told him ta throw 'em away, or give
'em ta someone. I got me another set...Ta hell with those."  

Fraser returned the smile. "Understandable." 

"One good thing came outta dis though." Fraser arched his brow as Ray
continued. "I think I know what started it." 

"You do?" Benton was interested to hear this. 

"Ya. My Mum called da other day." Ray again leaned back against the couch.
"Some one told Stella da whole deal. You know. Me getting' sick in the
morgue, and den goin' home and fallin' down da stairs, so she calls my
Mum. Naturally she gets all worried and gives me a call. She starts
apologizin' and sayin' it's all her fault...and I'm like What are you
talkin' about?...So she tells me dis story about when I was just a kid...I
guess I was 4 or so...I don't even remember it, but anyway...My
Grandfather died and my Grandma made me kiss him good-bye. Right dare in
the casket, and well you know how some a dem old folks used ta do...weird
stuff ya know, like proppin' up the dead and taking pictures of 'em...and
ya know ya had ta kiss 'em good-bye and stuff. But anyway I guess I
freaked out big time. Started screamin' and cryin' and dey still made me
kiss him. My Mum said it was two days 'for I would even talk again. I just
kept cryin,...wouldn't sleep. Guess I gave 'em a hell-of-a-time. Maybe I
shouldn't say it, them bein' my folks and all, but with what I know now,
dey had it comin'." 

Fraser couldn't stop the small chuckle that escaped him. "I think I agree
Ray." 

"Still though it really butters my muffin dat I can't seem ta get past
it." Ray rubbed his hands through his hair and gave his friend a
questioning look. "I mean I'm a grown man, and I know about death and
everything. We deal wit it all da time. I oughtta be able ta think my way
through dis." 

"Some of our deepest fears Ray seem to go beyond our ability to reason
them out." Ray didn't fail to notice the wistful tone that had entered his
partner's voice. 

"Ya mean like dat fear ya got about endin' up alone." Fraser was stunned.
"Ya know? You're scared a endin' up alone, and yet all ya gotta do is look
around and dare's all these people around ya dat really care...and even
love ya, but ya still can't get past da fear." 

Fraser stared at his friend in shock. Even with the comfort level that he
felt in this man's presence this was one thing that he had never had the
courage to talk about. The skinny blond never ceased to amaze him. His
instincts and intuitive powers were amazing; a fact of which Ray seemed to
have no awareness of.  

Ray couldn't hide the smile that Benton's reaction caused. For once it
would appear that the Mountie was at a loss for words. It was indeed a
rare occasion. 

"Like I said my little Mountie friend. All ya gotta do is look around." 

Fraser was still totally shell shocked, and in his desperation to try and
save face and again regain control of the conversation, he said the first
thing that came to his mind. 

"Right....Uh...Right you are Ray...and you?...Well all you need to do is
...well...when you go to the morgue...you can...Uh...Just look around
...and uh... know that you don't have to kiss them."  

Ray stared at his partner, his mouth wide open in surprise. He watched as
Fraser's expression changed from confusion to total embarrassment. 

"Geeze Fraser...I don't believe you said dat...dat's
disgusting...dats...You are one sick puppy...?" Ray suddenly burst into
uncontrolled laughter. "You got da world fooled dare buddy...Dey just
don't know dat little sick puppy dat lives in dare." Ray continued to
laugh. He pressed his hand tight against his protesting ribs. "Shit dat
hurts...don't make me laugh Frase...It hurts." 

At last Benton had to forget his embarrassment and join in the laughter.
He felt totally blessed with the friendship of this man. Before long they
both had tears streaming down their cheeks, and although Fraser knew that
some of Ray's were from the pain from his broken ribs, it was a fact that
didn't seem to cause him the same painful guilt that it would have just a
few minutes before. They were 'both' going to get past this troubled time
in their lives, for if laughter was the best medicine they were finally
getting the prescription filled. 

  

  

  

EPILOGUE 

It had been three weeks since the blanket party. Ray's ribs only hurt him
when he sneezed, and the limp only showed itself when he had spent to long
setting still, so it didn't show much at all. Everything had fallen back
into the same old routine. It was just another day at the 27th.  

They had spent the last twenty minutes in the morgue with Mort going over
what the older man had been able to learn from their latest body. Except
for making a few faces and the need to turn his back a few times Ray had
handled it very well. They had thanked Mort for his help and had turned
for the door when the older man spoke. 

"Boys?" The partners turned to face their friend. "I just wanted to let
you know that I am very proud of you. Benton you were indeed able to
handle the truth, and Ray my friend, after what you went through here you
have conducted yourself very well today."  

Ray dropped his head shyly. "Thanks...not just fer dat, but da help before
too." 

"Oh my pleasure my boy...My pleasure. I'm just glad that you were able to
find a way to cope." 

"Well it really is quite simple Mort. All Ray had to do was come to the
realization that he is not required to kiss them." Fraser succeeded in
hiding the smile that wanted to break out on his face. 

"Do not do dat Fraser...Do not even do dat." Ray poked his friend on the
arm, gave out a sharp barking laugh and grabbed his ribs. "It still hurts
ta laugh, so do not even go dare." 

As Fraser ushered his friend towards the door Mort could here him making
loud kissing noises at the skinny blond. 

Mort watched as the partners made their way out the door. He could hear
their laughter even after the door had swung shut. He scratched his head
in silent amusement. 

"Good boys....Unstable maybe...but good boys." The old man then turned to
his work and raised his voice in... song?  

THE END 

Winthru@kconline.com