Cohabitation 1: Footsteps In The Dark    
 Cohabitation 1: Footsteps In The Dark 
 by Adia
 
 "Sure Fraser, no prob." Stanley Ray Kowalski stood leaned against the 
 door jam with an odd expression on his face. One that Fraser identified 
 as resembling that of a musk ox caught in the headlights of a 
 snowmobile. An almost panicked look. Then again, Fraser shrugged, it 
 could just be the normal for Stan. He always seemed a bit... jumpy. 
 Stan's white buttoned down shirt was pressed and worn nicely with a pair 
 of navy blue slacks. His spiky hair looked a tad over spiked. Especially 
 for it being a Friday night. 
 Fraser stood patiently before the doorway. He let his gaze move around 
 the doors edge. Kowalski was still standing in the same spot. Slowly 
 Fraser made deliberate eye contact, trying a non-verbal form of waking 
 Stanley from his obvious trance he'd seemed to just recently fall into. 
 Fraser pushed the thought out of his mind before he could smile about 
 remembering the new found significance of the word, "Cauliflower." 
 Quickly Stan snapped to attention. His eyes bugging out and his arms 
 flailing wildly to straighten his already perfectly creased appearance. 
 He ran a hand through his blond hair, spiking it and calming himself in 
 one move. Taking cool control of the unexpected situation, "Come on in."
 Fraser slipped past him into the apartment, "Thank you kindly, Ray." 
 "Welcome. Uh, I was just um, ya know, watchin' some er..." he quickly 
 clicked the television on via remote, "TV. Uh..." 
 "Ray? Why are you dressed so formally?" Fraser inquired out of nowhere.
 Stan started to panic, "No reason Fraser, can't a guy just wear what he 
 wants in his own home?"
 Fraser nodded, "Certainly, Ray."
 Stan's stuttering and stammering had significantly increased within the 
 last two minutes and his staggering only seemed to get worse as the 
 night progressed. Untill finally Fraser insisted on going to bed hardly 
 able to have the patients for Stanley's new nervousness. He was 
 concerned though. Ray, Stan, was his friend and he wanted to be there 
 for him. He knew something was wrong but he couldn't seem to figure out 
 just what it was. 
 Fraser fell asleep rather quickly after Stan settled into his room 
 closing the door and turning on his stereo to a soft sound. Of course 
 Fraser had trained himself so well it didn't take much effort to find 
 sleep. Kowalski had politely offered Fraser his room but Fraser knew 
 he'd be much more comfortable where he was now. Which indeed he was. 
 Comfortable and grateful for a friend such as Ray. Fraser needed at 
 least a week break from the Consulate. Since he'd dropped Dief off at an 
 training camp that he'd been so longing to attend it was difficult not 
 having a friend around. Both the Inspector and Turnbull were driving him 
 nuts. Which for Fraser was a difficult, if not impossible, task. However 
 Turnbull had managed that with his constant cleaning in that frilly 
 apron and his determined need to feed Fraser. Always cooking and 
 insisting Fraser sample it, seeking his sincere approval. But, honestly, 
 how many different flavors of tea can one sip during a mere twenty-four 
 hour day? 
 Then there was Inspector Thatcher. She had to be the most complex person 
 he'd ever come in contact with. One moment she was kind, caring, even 
 marginally... nice. Then the next she was ranting and complaining about 
 something else, usually something he didn't understand anyway. The woman 
 changed subjects quicker than he could blink. Her constant energy had 
 been enough to drive him insane. So, lately, with the lack of privacy 
 the Consulate was offering he'd decided to ask Stanley for a little 
 favor. Just a warm indoor place to crash for a few nights. Nothing too 
 permanent or inconveniencing. At least he hoped it wasn't an 
 inconvenience. 
 During the night, only a few hours after Fraser had fallen asleep his 
 sharp ears woke him from a deep sleep. In the distance he could hear 
 someone taking steps. A door opened then shut. A moments pause in 
 between. The footsteps were coming closer and what seemed like more 
 frequent. One right after the other like baby steps. Closer and closer 
 then another door opened, what sounded like the front door, then closed. 
 After almost a 10 minute pause the front door clicked open and shut 
 again. 
 Fraser's curiosity got the better of him. He'd sworn himself to keep his 
 eyes shut, but he just couldn't bring himself to keep the promise. It 
 was his business if an intruder had invaded the apartment without him 
 immediate knowledge. Fraser's eyes popped open able to see the tall 
 figure pushing the door shut. He reached up and pulled the chain hanging 
 from the lamp and the room filled with a blinding light. It took no time 
 for his eyes to adjust. He located the identity of the man standing, 
 hand on the door knob, twisting the dead bolt locked. Kowalski. Fraser 
 cocked an eyebrow. 
 Meanwhile, Stanley jumped a good foot in the air and slammed his back 
 into the wall from being startled. He clamped his right hand over his 
 chest covering his heart, "Dammit Fraser! You coulda given me an 
 aneurysm." 
 Fraser was frozen, eyes wide open, eyebrow still arched, "What were you 
 doing, Ray?"
 "Nuthin' Fraser, go back to sleep." Stan ran another nervous hand 
 through his messed hair and staggered back to bed. As Stanley closed the 
 door Fraser sat up and scratched his head. This certainly was puzzling. 
 Why would Kowalski be up at two in the morning and standing at the front 
 door? Did he perhaps sleepwalk? That most definitely must be it. 
 Still even hours later Fraser was lying on his back wide awake. Unable 
 to shut his eyes or get his mind to shut up. His brain was racing with 
 thoughts. Questions. What had caused Kowalski's strange behavior? He 
 hated being suspicious but he had little choice in the matter. He knew 
 what he had to do. "In the morning after Ray had finished his coffee," 
 Fraser planned, "I will then simply have a little discussion. An 
 explanation." After all he couldn't very well sleep in Stan's house and 
 have him so obviously uncomfortable. Fraser was sure he could find a way 
 to work things out. 
 Before Stan woke that morning Fraser had all his things picked up and 
 packed away. He was stiffly pacing the floor with his hands behind his 
 back running scenario after scenario over in his mind, "I will kindly 
 state that I appreciate his hospitality but I do not wish to be an 
 inconvenience." Fraser swore to himself that he would not mention his 
 own suspicions that Ray had been watching him sleep. That would be too 
 embarrassing, for everyone. He and Ray Vecchio, the real Ray, always had 
 a close, very close friendship. Ray Vecchio behaving like that wouldn't, 
 and didn't, bother him. Ray Vecchio was his closest friend and even in 
 his absence that status remains. But Stan, well, Fraser was unsure how 
 to describe it, but the idea of Stan watching him sleep didn't impress 
 him. 
 Fraser once again swore himself never to mention to Stan any of that. 
 Stan was a good friend and he always tried him best. He was nice enough 
 to let Fraser stay here. Fraser knew he should just take that at face 
 value, be grateful and move on. "Besides," Fraser convinced himself, "he 
 was just sleep walking. That is all." 
 In the silence of the apartment Fraser could hear a stirring in Stan's 
 room and then a sudden knock. A knock? Where had that come from? He 
 heard the knock again then realized it was coming from outside the front 
 door. Before Fraser could step to answer it Stanley bolted out of his 
 bedroom. Quickly he yanked the door open, without even a moments 
 hesitation his face lit up, "Hey Frannie, come on in."
 Francesca entered the room casually. Not at first noticing Fraser, she 
 leaned in closer to Stan, his eye popped out and Frannie had a horrible 
 feeling something was seriously wrong. She could feel someone's eyes on 
 her back. She didn't know those eyes belonged to Fraser untill she 
 cautiously turned and found him looking a tab bit surprised. Francesca 
 pivoted quickly on her heels turning back to Stanley and mouthed the 
 words, "What's he doing here?" 
 Then flew back around, "Hey Frase." She deliberately avoided eye contact 
 then shifted her weight nervously from side to side at least twelve 
 times within the last minute. 
 "Good morning, Francesca. What brings you here?" Her nervousness wasn't 
 even phasing Fraser, then again, he never really paid much attention to 
 here anyway so why would he start now? Francesca panicked and threw a 
 slight glare over to Stan who was standing with his hands in his pockets 
 leaned against the still open door. 
 She mouthed, "Help me!"
 Stan tried his best, "Uh... um, yeah, F... Fr... Frannie's just 'ere ta, 
 uh... pick up, um..." It wasn't helping.
 Frannie took over, "Gosh Ray! Can't you remember anything!? Geez!" she 
 flared her arms exasperatedly, "You borrowed that uh... uh... Etta James 
 CD from Ma when you were gonna - the point is - I'm here now to pick it 
 up!" She marched into his bedroom and spotted Stan trying to distract 
 Fraser before she found it safe to close the door.
 Stan teetered on the balls of his feet, "So Fraser..."
 Fraser looked puzzled, "Francesca certainly looks... illuminated this 
 morning." 
 Stan's eyes suddenly glazed over and his speech slurred, "Yeah, she sure 
 does, doesn't she?" A slow smile crept up his face and curved his lips. 
 He didn't wipe it off quickly enough because Fraser's eyes caught it. A 
 soft blush springing out and coloring his pale cheeks. 
 Fraser's curiosity again got the best of him, "Hmmm. Ray, wouldn't it be 
 more likely that Ma Vecchio's CD would be out here on your CD rack?" 
 Stan froze. He couldn't even blink. He knew he'd been caught and there 
 was no good way to explain it. He was starting to cave in. He knew there 
 was no use in lying to the Mountie. Without warning Francesca burst out 
 of the room clutching her purse. She patted it, "Got it."
 
 Inside his own mind Stan gave a loud, "Whew!" Then motioned Francesca 
 out the door, "I'll walk ya out Frannie." 
 To cover her own tracks Frannie gave Fraser a leering smile, "Bye 
 Frase," then waved good-bye with her fingers.
 Once outside the apartment and down the hall Stan sighed, "That was 
 close."
 Frannie spat out at the same time, "What was he doing here? I thought 
 he'd be gone by this time of morning!" Then they both laughed. 
 Francesca started again, "Sorry, I just left my purse in your room last 
 night."
 Stan's eyes were glowing, "'S okay. So, um, Frannie," he leaned in 
 closer to her as the elevator button dinged. They entered the elevator, 
 "Lemme walk ya to yer car." 
 Frannie took his hand, "You're so attractive when your polite." 
 He entwined his fingers with hers. She spoke softly in a whisper even 
 though they were the only two in the elevator, "I had a beautiful time 
 last night. You really can cook." There was a hint of surprise in her 
 voice. 
 When the elevator stopped Stanley and Frannie stepped out, hand in hand. 
 Trying to keep this all a secret was hard, but being at the station 
 everyday made it nearly impossible. That's why those moments where they 
 could be themselves and no one would care were treasured and cherished 
 all the more. Stanley gave a sly grin as the words left his lips, "Well, 
 ya know, Frannie, I have many hidden talents. Maybe I could introduce 
 you to them sometime."
 Francesca grinned, "That'd be nice."
 Stan's eyebrows climbed. Last night hadn't turned out exactly as he'd 
 planned. Frannie had shown up right on time at 8 o'clock and he'd cooked 
 her dinner. Pasta. And she had loved it, not because of the food itself, 
 but because of the effort he'd shown. His desperate need to make 
 everything just right. To Frannie, he had succeeded even though their 
 evening had been interrupted. They'd just finished dinner and Stan had a 
 little dancing in mind when the knock at the door came. 
 Francesca and Stanley both flew into auto-panic mode. Frannie grabbed 
 her purse, slung it on, blew out the candles then lugged the wine 
 glasses and wine bottle back into his room where she hid. Stanley turned 
 off the stereo and put their plates in the kitchen sink and quickly 
 cleared the rest of the table before hearing his bedroom door shut. 
 After he scanned the room to make sure it was all clear he answered the 
 door. Yanking it open revealing Fraser poised, mid-knock. 
 Fraser had stayed out in the hallway expressing that he could really use 
 a break from those maniac's at the Consulate. That's not how Fraser had 
 put it, he's far too tactful for that, but that was how Kowalski had 
 interpreted Fraser's long endless explanation. Stanley took pity on the 
 poor guy and invited him in to stay. Fraser was his friend, the first 
 person to actually give him a chance and he wasn't about to turn his 
 back on him. Plus, with Fraser's starched habits, having him around 
 wouldn't be much of a problem. Then it dawned on him. He remembered the 
 sweet girl hiding in his bedroom. Suddenly he felt like a teenager 
 again. Only the girl wasn't Stella. It was someone much sweeter, much 
 warmer. Frannie. His mind drifted and before he knew it Fraser walked 
 inside. 
 After watching TV for half an hour Kowalski had made three trips to his 
 room. Fraser was naturally inquisitive but unable to hear the events in 
 the room over the volume of the TV. Finally Fraser decided it best to go 
 to bed. He was surprised when Stan agreed but not surprised to hear the 
 stereo go on. Fraser felt guilty for having pushed Stanley out of his 
 own space in his own home. 
 Meanwhile, Francesca had waited, rather patiently, for Stanley's return. 
 She'd poured them both a glass of wine and Stan had turned on the 
 stereo, "You dance?" 
 Francesca set aside the photo album. She'd been keeping herself busy by 
 looking at photos of Stan growing up. She stopped when she reached the 
 point of his and Stella's wedding pictures. She couldn't bring herself 
 to see those. Deep inside she felt a twinge of jealousy towards Stella 
 for her being loved so much by the man Frannie loved. But it only took 
 her the moment to realize that it doesn't matter. Stan loves her now and 
 that she was sure of, and that's all that matters. She almost couldn't 
 stomach seeing Stella and Stanley's high school Prom pictures, but the 
 pictures of Stan graduating from the Police Academy made it worthwhile. 
 He looked so sharp in his perfectly pressed uniform. It made Frannie 
 wonder if he still had it. The uniform that is. She knew he still had 
 that charm. That was eternal. 
 Before Francesca had a chance to reply to his question Stan had taken 
 her hand and drawn her into his arms. Slowly the song began to play. The 
 violin's sang the beginning while Stanley stood still holding her to him 
 untill a rich voice filled the room, "Aaaaat Laaaast," the beat of the 
 song entered and Stan held her closer and began to sway. His whole body 
 moved to the rhythm of the song. The old fashioned blues song made her 
 want to toss her head back, move her hips to the beat and let the music 
 take her over. It's melody and warm blues surrounded them, "My love has 
 come along..." The violins made the room fill with a sweet sound, "My 
 lonely days are over... and life is like a song..." His steps were 
 smooth and fluid as he carried her with him, "Ohhhh, yeah yeah, aat 
 laast the skies above are bluuue..." The words drifted away and for a 
 moment it was only the twointo his arms. Slowly the song began to play. 
 The violin's sang the beginning w
 But it ended too quickly. The song was over before she knew it. The 
 words caught her ears, "and you smiled... you smiled... oh and then the 
 spell was cast... and here we are in heaven..." Stanley placed one hand 
 firmly on her back and held her securely as he dipped her untill her 
 hair almost touched the floor. She felt like she'd somehow magically 
 stepped into one of those old romantic black and white films. Too good 
 to be true. Etta James' deep voice filled the room again after a long 
 pause, "for you are mine..." to the sound of a piano being lightly 
 played solo he lifted her back up to him in perfect harmony with the 
 music. When he had her in his arms again the song continued in time, 
 "Aaaaat Laaaast..." Slowly the layers of the song peeled away untill all 
 that was left were the violins singing untill the song ended leaving 
 them in silence. The both stopped swaying as Stan wrapped her in a hug 
 then lightly kissed her forehead. 
 The rest of the night they spent talking and dancing. Though for the 
 more complicated dance steps Frannie spent most her time with her feet 
 on top of his. Even that, Frannie dancing on his feet, made him happy. 
 After all, the woman weighs maybe all of two ounces. Still it didn't 
 matter. Nothing mattered right now, not even Fraser out in the living 
 room didn't matter. So what if he knows? All that mattered right now to 
 either of them was the person standing in front of them. Their eyes, 
 their lips. Nothing else. 
 Nearly five hours later Frannie decided she had to leave so Stanley 
 walked her out and down to her car untill he knew she was safe. Even 
 then he begged her to call his cell phone the moment she got home. And 
 she had, to let him know she was safe. It was a mean world out there and 
 he couldn't bare to see the person he cared so deeply for be engulfed in 
 it. He felt the need to protect her. He felt the need to love her, 
 because he did. He loved her. 
 Back in the lobby of the apartment complex Stan held the door open for 
 Frannie and himself to pass threw. They were now on the sidewalk in the 
 middle of a busy city and to anyone else they were strangers. Frannie's 
 new car not far from them. He walked her to it not wanting to release 
 her, "Frannie, I'm sorry 'bout last night. I didn't know he was gonna," 
 she silenced him by pressing her fingertips to his warm lips.
 "Shhh... it's alright. I didn't mind. I loved it. It felt kinda... 
 sneaky." She gave an evil grin, "I'd never been so..." 
 He finished her by supplying the one word that fit, "Happy."
 Exactly. Frannie trailed her fingertips across his cheek tracing the 
 crease that appears when he smiles, the one she'd fallen in love with. 
 She leaned in and he wrapped himself around her. For a brief second the 
 snowy streets of Chicago became the warmest place on earth as their lips 
 touched and they kissed sweetly.
 Six stories above them Fraser stood peering out the window and mentally 
 kicking himself for his embarrassing assumptions and suspicions. A deep 
 red blush spread up his cheeks and his bright blue eyes glowed at the 
 sight of Stanley and Frannie together. A Vecchio with a pretend Vecchio. 
 What could be more absurd and more obvious than that? He smiled to 
 himself, "Oh dear." Vecchio's have a strong power when it comes to 
 emotions of the heart. Maybe it was just an Italian thing. Yeah. That 
 had to be it. Fraser smiled to himself, "I should have known." 
 The people below him had disappeared and he could hear footsteps coming 
 towards the door. As Stan entered the apartment he asked Fraser, "So 
 whaddya wanna talk 'bout?" 
 "Oh nothing, Ray." A grin had spread a mile wide on his face.
 Stan's eyebrows met in the middle as he scrunched his face in confusion, 
 "Fraser?" Uh-oh.
 
 The End
 (~MDK~)
 October 1998
 Disclaimer: Same old, same old. They belong to Alliance, not me.
 P.S. I am using the blues song, "At Last," by The Extraordinary Etta 
 James and no copyright infringement is intended by using the lyrics.