And Heaven and Earth   

m/m relationship, explicit sex, rated R  

WARNING: IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY THE NOTION OF TWO MEN IN A LOVING
RELATIONSHIP THAT INCLUDES SEXUAL INTIMACY, DO NOT READ THIS. 

All characters in this story are the properties of Alliance. This story is
intended only for the private entertainment of fans, and may not be
reproduced in any form except for this purpose. No profit is made or
sought in the writing of this story, nor is it permitted to use this story
for any profit-making purposes. 

A heartfelt "Thank you kindly" to everybody who have made their stories
available on the "net." They have been a source of great inspiration, and
I've enjoyed reading them very, very much.  

A Word of Explanation: 

This story is set directly after the first season episode "Heaven and
Earth." Part of the inspiration for this story came from a story posted in
the Archive called "Conversation," where Francesca's words to Ray at the
end of the episode are interpreted as an attempt to make Ray realize his
love for Fraser. The fact is, no matter how many times I watch "Heaven and
Earth," I can't figure out where Francesca's outburst came from, or what
the writers were trying to achieve with it, and the interpretation
provided in "Conversation" does make sense, although I did not follow it
exactly in this story. 

In many ways, "Heaven and Earth" is one of the most emotionally charged
episodes of Due South I have seen. In addition to the interactions among
Fraser, Ray and Francesca, which create a great deal of emotional
intensity, Fraser and Ray are totally in synch with each other throughout
this episode, communicating so much non-verbally, through the barest of
gestures and facial expressions, always moving together, sitting so close
to each other, constantly touching each other, and to top it off, Ray buys
into Fraser's assessment of Garret's ability to "see" things with the
barest of objections. Add this all up and I couldn't resist imagining how
their "togetherness" might just spill over into a sexual level. 

Now most of the fan fiction that bring Ray and Fraser together
romantically place their "epiphany" after "Victoria's Secret" and "Juliet
is Bleeding," for obvious reasons. I'll be the first to admit that this
little story is not compatible with the two episodes above as they stand,
not to mention the whole Fraser-Thatcher relationship in the second
season. Well, too bad. After all, all this is fiction, and I'm just
indulging myself in a little fantasy. 

  

  

And Heaven and Earth Revolve 

by Irene Pinsent 

Francesca: "You know what your problem is, Ray?"  

Ray: "No, Frannie, why don't you tell me?"  

Francesca: "Yeah, I'll tell you. Your problem is that you are so afraid to
dream. You are so afraid to reach out for something that you really want.
You know what happens to people like you? They get old. They get alone.
and they die. And they never know. Well, that's not me." 

							(Heaven and Earth)
 

I. 

With one final sigh, Ray heaved himself away from the table and out of the
interrogation room. Rounding the corner, he stopped short at the sight of
the familiar figure in the red serge uniform, standing stiffly next to the
water fountain. Fraser had turned to face the sound of the oncoming
footsteps, and their eyes locked in a gaze that at once conveyed
everything and nothing of what each felt. 

"Come on," said Ray, breaking the moment with one swift stride that
brought him alongside his friend, "Let's get you home." He punctuated his
words with a firm tap on the Mountie's shoulder, and Fraser fell into step
alongside Ray. As one, the two walked down the corridor and out the
building.  

The cool night air cleared away the tension of the past few days, leaving
Ray overwhelmed by the wave of fatigue that welled up in its place.
Inserting the keys into the door of his Riv, he found himself sagging
against the door. Firm hands reached out to support his shoulders.
"Perhaps I should drive," said Fraser. 

Ray allowed himself to be guided to the passenger's side and crumpled into
the seat, barely noticing Fraser reaching around him to secure the seat
belt. Rarely did he allow anybody else to drive his beloved Riv, but right
now he was content to allow Fraser to take over. As Fraser settled himself
into the driver's seat, Ray muttered, "Just drive over to your place,
Fraser. I'll just crash in." 

Fraser gave the slightest nod of acknowledgement as he turned the
ignition. For the next few minutes, Ray allowed himself to relax and enjoy
the ride. Fraser was a capable driver, handling the car smoothly and
meticulously like he did everything else.  

For a thousandth time, Ray wondered why Fraser did not get himself a car
-- or at least use the consulate car for his errands. Truth be told, there
was no need for Ray to drive Fraser around as much as he did. For most
things, Fraser could walk, or take public transportation. Yes, Ray
admitted to himself, the fact of the matter was that the two of them
colluded with each other in pretending that there was a need for Ray to be
driving Fraser around, when in fact it was just an excuse to be spending
as much time as possible in each other's company. And even the cases they
worked together, though they were what brought them together in the first
place, were now secondary to the bond that had developed between them. A
bond that they had never quite openly acknowledged, even to each other. A
bond that had no name. Yet. Except... 

"It's just not my sister, is it." It was not a question, but a statement.
"You just aren't attracted to women, are you." 

Fraser allowed himself the barest flicker of a glance toward Ray before
returning his gaze back to the road. "That's not exactly true," he replied
evenly. "I do find women attractive." 

"But you don't find them exciting sexually, do you." 

Fraser turned a corner just a little too deliberately as he reflected on
this pronouncement. As he opened his mouth to respond, his tongue
flickered slightly against his lips, and Ray wondered whether Fraser was
ever aware of doing it, or how sensual it looked.  

"There was a woman once, that I found myself thinking about... being
physically intimate with." 

"So, did you?" 

"Well, we were trapped in a cave in the middle of a blizzard, so..." 

"Then the answer is no." 

Fraser gave a nod of acknowledgement. 

"So what about with men?" 

Another flick of the tongue across lightly parted lips. "Do you really
want to know, Ray?" 

"Yeah, I want to know." 

Fraser gently braked the car to a stop at a red light, then stared ahead,
absentmindedly drumming the wheel with his fingers. Some part of his mind
knew why Ray was asking these questions. Another part firmly refused to
even consider the possibility. 

"I've had a few... experiences." He finally admitted. 

"So?" 

"So?" 

"Did you like it?" 

The light turned, and Fraser slid the car forward. Ray wondered whether
Fraser was going to pretend to be busy with the car and not answer. But
the car had barely moved half a block before Fraser spoke. 

"I did not dislike it, but really, well, I find that being physically
intimate with a person without having an emotional, or maybe I should say,
spiritual, connection with that person is..." 

"Right, so you don't believe in casual sex." Ray interjected. 

"That would be an accurate summation of my sentiments, yes." Fraser
acknowledged. 

"Uh-hum." said Ray. "And if you were to have a deep spiritual or emotional
or whatever relationship with somebody, would you rather it be with a man
or a woman?" 

Fraser allowed himself a quick glance at his friend, but Ray's quiet,
steady gaze revealed nothing except a firm determination to get a straight
answer. When Ray had that kind of look, he would not let up until he was
satisfied. Fraser permitted himself a small sigh while adjusting his hands
on the steering wheel. Right now he wasn't really sure whether he was glad
or annoyed at having to keep the better half of his attention on driving. 

"I'm not sure if I care, Ray. I mean, in our society, it is more or less
expected that men should go out with women and vice versa. Unless, of
course, a person has determined himself, or herself, to be homosexual in
orientation. Among the Inuits, on the other hand..." 

"Fra---ser." Ray interrupted, right about when Fraser expected. "I don't
care what 'society' thinks, or what the damned Inuits think, okay? I asked
you how you felt." 

Fraser shook his head, as if that would help clear his thoughts. "I can't
say I've given it much thought, Ray. I guess it just is not a very high
priority with me." 

"What, you don't think that finding somebody to spend the rest of your
life with is important?" 

"Many people spend their life without getting married, Ray. For instance
in many religions, the clerics are required to be celibate..." 

"You're not a monk, Benny. That what you want? To be a monk? To be alone?"


*you get old, you get alone, you die* 

"No, but if I were to end up alone, I'm willing to accept that." 

*you are afraid to dream, you are afraid to reach out* 

"Damn it, Benny, don't you ever dream?" 

Fraser pulled the Riv into an open space in front of his building and
turned off the engine. He leaned onto the steering wheel, staring straight
ahead. 

"I have a dream or two." He admitted. 

"Any of them involve me?" Ray was surprised he managed to keep the tone of
his voice so light and casual. 

Fraser wondered how he managed to hold himself so still. Or how he managed
to respond in the same light and casual tone, "As a matter of fact, yes." 

Slowly, they turned to meet each other's gaze. Their lips tugged into
slight smiles, widening into beaming grins, then they both burst into
giggles. Ray unbuckled his belt, and still giggling, slid closer to Fraser
and gathered him into his arms. Fraser let his head fall against Ray's
shoulders, and stayed there until his giggles began to subside, only to be
replaced by something close to sobs. 

Ray unfastened the buckles on Fraser's seatbelt, gently easing it off his
shoulders so he could hold him closer. For a while, he just cradled
Fraser, rocking him gently back and forth, listening to his stifled sobs.
"Damn it, Benny," he said softly, "If you want to cry, just cry." 

Fraser stiffened in his arms. He pulled away slightly to look into Ray's
eyes. Ray reached out a hand to gently touch his cheek. "You try too hard
to hold in your emotions, Benny," he said, "Just this once act how you
feel, will you?" 

Fraser stared at Ray for a long moment before he buried his face in his
hands and started crying uncontrollably. Ray leaned back into the seat of
the Riv and pulled Fraser down, cradling his head in his shoulders, and
closed weary eyes as he prepared to wait out the emotional storm.  

Somehow this reaction from Fraser did not surprise him at all. How long
had he been holding it in, Ray wondered. Knowing him, he probably hadn't
cried when his father was killed. He hadn't cried when they had captured
Gerrard, during his trial, or at his sentencing. He had accepted his exile
to Chicago stoically, without a word of complaint. He hadn't cried when
Diefenbaker had almost been destroyed. 

Damn it, thought Ray, I should have reached out to him back then, instead
of backing away to give him space. No, but he had stayed away, kept the
distance, because he was afraid... Afraid of what, he wondered. Of
rejection, maybe. Of not being worthy of Benny. Of commitment and
responsibility. Because Benny was not a casual lover to be cast away once
the initial infatuation faded. 

Ray tightened his arms around Fraser, feeling the weight of the body
leaning against his. It felt warm and comfortable to be holding this
weight, to listen to the sobs gradually winding down into sniffles against
his shoulder, to feel Fraser's hair brushing against his cheek... 

The weight of his head giving suddenly into gravity startled Ray into
jerking it back up, which in turn dislodged Fraser from Ray's arms. "Aw,
jeez!" Ray grumbled, "I'm falling asleep on my feet here!" 

"You are not standing, Ray," Fraser pointed out, logical as always. 

"Aw, Benny, it's an expression, all right?" Ray playfully pretended to
punch Fraser's head. "Can we get out of this car and get in your apartment
before I conk out completely and you have to carry me up on your
shoulder?" 

"Certainly, Ray," Fraser said, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. 

They made their way up the stairs slowly, Ray sluggish from exhaustion and
Fraser still sniffling occasionally. Ray held on to Fraser's arm, partly
to help drag himself up the stairs and partly to offer comfort. They
finally made it to Fraser's room, and Fraser walked Ray to the bed, helped
him shrug out of his coat, then left Ray to collapse onto the bed while he
walked over to the closet to hang the coat, remove his uniform, and slip
into his longjohns.  

When he turned, he found that Ray had just kicked off his shoes, thrown
off his jacket and tumbled onto the bed without bothering to get under the
covers. Well, Fraser observed, he would have to tuck Ray in. But first he
waddled into the kitchen, picking up and hanging Ray's jacket over the
back of a chair on his way. Turning on the faucet, he splashed the cold
water on his face.  

What exactly had happened, he wondered, between himself and Ray in that
car? Why should a simple embrace -- and that was all it had been -- draw
such a violent emotional reaction from himself? Yet just thinking about
that touch threatened to force a sob out of him once again. Then Ray's
voice, softly telling him to go ahead and cry, calmly accepting of the
emotions he had long denied to himself, Ray's arms and hands holding him,
comforting just by their very presence... 

Fraser collapsed weeping on the kitchen floor. He was dimly aware of Dief
whimpering softly as he nuzzled against his hands and face. Then he heard
the soft footsteps, and Ray's arms were around him, his voice whispering
comforting sounds into his ears. Ray held Fraser until the wreaking sobs
subsided a little, then drew him up and led him to the bed. He pushed an
unprotesting Fraser under the covers, then quickly shed his own shirt and
trousers before climbing in next to him. It took a little maneuvering to
settle both of them comfortably on the narrow cot. Fraser was sniffling
again, and Ray just held him close, caressing his head, planting a soft
kiss on his forehead.  

For a long time, Ray drifted in and out of sleep, caressing and kissing
Fraser whenever he broke out into sobs. Finally, Ray claimed Fraser's
lips, drawing him into a long, sensual kiss. He undid the first couple of
buttons on Fraser's longjohns and slid in a hand to caress his chest. A
gasp escaped Fraser's lips as Ray's fingers brushed against a nipple. Ray
swiftly undid the rest of the buttons and pulled the top half of the
longjohns off Fraser's unresisting body. Fraser moaned as Ray's mouth
fixed onto his nipple. Ray shifted their bodies until their crotches slid
against each other, then started grinding his hips sinuously against
Fraser's body. Fraser lost himself to the sensations, hardly aware of Ray
pulling the rest of the longjohns off his legs, or of Ray pulling away
briefly to remove his own underwear. He shuddered as Ray took his pulsing
cock into his mouth, then bit down on his lip as Ray's tongue caressed the
sensitive tip. His body jerked convulsively, and he screamed wordlessly as
he came into Ray's mouth. Ray's mouth closed down on Fraser's, filling his
mouth with his own essence. Then Ray shifted, and Fraser obediently took
the proffered cock into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue
as Ray had done, until Ray, too, came with a wordless cry. Sated and
exhausted, the two finally fell into deep, uninterrupted sleep. 

Unseen and unfelt, heaven and earth revolved in the night. 

  

II. 

Fraser woke to the feel of an unfamiliar body next to his, impeding the
movement of his arms and legs. Ray, he thought, without opening his eyes.
He lay still for a moment, feeling drained, physically and emotionally, by
the events of the last day and night. He could feel the bitter aftertaste
of his and Ray's essence in the back of his mouth, but the lingering
tightness in his chest and the constriction deep down in his throat were
the more pertinent reminders of last night's passion.  

What sexual encounters he had had previous to last night were brief,
hurried affairs, the bumbling experiments of adolescent curiosity. What
happened last night between him and Ray was less about physical sensation
and more about the communion of emotions. Fraser couldn't remember the
last time he had cried so hard or so long. Perhaps he never had. Ray had
somehow found the most vulnerable core of Fraser's being, and accepted the
resulting overflow totally and without hesitation. And Fraser had
surrendered completely to Ray, ceding all control, giving himself over to
Ray, and Ray, through his touch, his caress, his kisses, had somehow
accepted that, and given himself to Fraser in return.  

Beside Fraser, Ray shifted and mumbled in his sleep. Fraser took the
opportunity to carefully extricate himself from the tangle of Ray's arms
and legs. The slant of sunlight indicated that it was still early in the
morning, but he will have to get up and get dressed soon or be late for
his shift. Well, Lt. Welsh ought to be agreeable to giving Ray a day off,
considering that the detective had been working without rest for the last
three days, and had just brought a high-profile kidnapping case to a most
satisfactory conclusion. But should he take a day off himself? He looked
down at Ray's sleeping face, indecisive, not sure whether he wanted to
stay or leave. Just then Diefenbaker got up from his corner and whined,
wanting to be fed. 

"Good morning," Fraser said to the wolf. 

The wolf yawned and scratched his head with his hind leg. 

"Well, somebody ought to be here to make sure Ray feels all right when he
wakes up, wouldn't you say? After all, he just worked for three days
straight. He could feel mightily tired when he gets up, right?" said
Fraser, quickly pushing another reason for Ray to be tired to the back of
his mind. Getting up off the bed, he walked over to Ray's jacket, fished
the cell phone out of the pocket, and called the precinct and the
consulate. 

Ray woke to the feel of an unfamiliar bed. Hard. No spring whatsoever.
Only Fraser would ever be content to sleep in a bed like this. Oh, talking
about Fraser, where's Benny? He stretched his arm, but found himself alone
in the bed. His eyes fluttered open to take in a room filled with early
afternoon light, and Fraser sitting in a chair in the corner, reading a
book, with the wolf at his feet. Ray took in the calm figure, the very
picture of serenity as he poured over the book, thinking what a contrast
it was to last night, when he had been totally out of control, first with
the crying, and later with physical arousal. Wonder if I could get a
little bit more of that, Ray thought. Well, he was wearing his jeans and
flannel shirt, which meant he probably didn't go to work today... and talk
about work, wouldn't Welsh be wondering where *he* was? Fraser caught the
movement as Ray shifted in bed, and turned toward him. 

"Good afternoon, Ray," he said, smiling his most open and disarming smile.


Ray's breath caught in his throat. Dear Lord, don't let him walk around
the streets with a smile like that, he thought. Out loud, he grumbled,
"Afternoon, is it?" 

Fraser put down the book and walked over to the bed, propping himself down
at its foot. "It's almost two. You've been sleeping very well," he said.
"I took the liberty of calling Lt. Welsh and asking him to give you a day
off. Which he was happy to do." 

"Why, thank you kindly." Ray grinned up at him. "And you? Don't tell me
you are playing hooky from your job?" 

Fraser blushed. "I did have something like 82 sick days coming to me,
Ray," he said. 

"Well," Ray said, as he reached out and grabbed Fraser's arm, "If you are
sick shouldn't you be in bed?" 

Fraser cocked his head. "Perhaps you're right," he said. 

"'course I am," said Ray. He swung out of the bed, using the momentum to
half push and pull Fraser down onto it. "I'm going to the john, and when I
get back, I expect you out of those clothes and in bed, understood?" 

Fraser looked bemusedly at Ray's retreating back, then obediently started
unbuttoning his shirt. 

Afterwards, they lay languidly in each other's arms, basking in the
afternoon sun, which shone fully onto the narrow bed, enjoying the moment.


"Wonder what time it is?" said Ray, as he indulged in a leisurely stretch,
extending each of his limbs in turn. 

"3:07, Ray," Fraser responded promptly. 

"No kidding, how exact can you get?" Ray huffed. 

"Well, Ray, it's a matter of knowing where the light from the window is in
the room. It's similar in principle to a sundial. At this time of the
year, the light moves across the room at the rate of approximately 2cm a
minute. Well, to be exact, the rate is not constant throughout the day
because of the variance in the angle of the surfaces of the room in
relation to the sun, but with practice, one can learn to read..." 

"Enough, Benny, I get the picture." Ray said, forestalling any further
diatribe. 

Fraser propped himself up on an elbow, focusing his eyes on the patch of
light slowly making its way across the floor. "You know, Ray," he said
softly, "if you concentrate on watching the light move, you can feel
heaven and earth moving around you." Ray turned to watch the patch of
light, and after a while, he began to feel as if time was suspended around
him, the patch at once still and gliding, the room turning along with the
earth, the sun, and the universe itself. 

"I love you, Benny," Ray breathed into the stillness. Fraser's eyes
flickered in surprise. A hand tightened on Ray's arm. Ray smiled
encouragingly into Fraser's eyes. Fraser blinked back the tears, fought
for control, lost. He wept quietly as Ray held him, soothing him with soft
kisses and gentle caresses. 

If Fraser was lost in Ray, Ray was desperately lost in Fraser. The rawness
of Fraser's emotional vulnerability frightened him and drew him in,
shutting off any possibility of escape. Ray had to hold Fraser, had to
sooth him, comfort him, give himself to him, because if Fraser shattered,
Ray would be broken. So they clang to each other, craving the intimacy
afforded by physical closeness, managing to extricate themselves from each
other's arms only when the sheer intensity of the physical and emotional
high that held them in its grip became too exhausting to maintain. 

The sun had set sometime ago. They got dressed and made coffee. Fraser, at
least, had eaten breakfast, but Ray couldn't remember the last meal he
had. 

"You really should eat something substantial," Fraser said, swinging into
his best naggy-meddling mode, "You haven't been eating properly since this
investigation started. One should never underestimate the importance of
proper nutrition. For example..." 

"Cut it out, Benny," said Ray, raising a hand to hold off the onslaught.
"We'll go eat, ok? A nice, rich Italian meal sounds about..." Ray came to
an abrupt stop in mid-sentence as a thought stuck his mind. "Oh, god, I
never called Ma!" he wailed. 

"I did call her this morning, Ray, and told her you were here," Fraser
said. 

Ray looked at Fraser, relieved but also a little annoyed. "You could've
told me before," he complained. 

"Well, we were a bit... otherwise occupied, Ray," Fraser pointed out,
unrepentant and slightly amused. 

"Right we were," Ray grumbled, feeling a little put out by Fraser's
nonchalance. "You ready? Let's go." 

Walking to the Riv, riding in the car, walking into the restaurant,
sitting at the table, munching on the food, chatting with each other... It
was absurdly normal, like nothing had changed. Except perhaps, every once
in a while, the banter would take on a heretofore unthought-of undertone.
And Fraser would blush, perhaps even fluster a bit, and Ray would smile,
and his gaze would shift just so subtly, and Fraser's breath would catch
in his throat. 

It was unthinkable to do anything but go back and spend another night with
Fraser at his apartment, and yet the logistics of it confounded Ray. He
had to go home. He couldn't stay away two nights in a row without having a
good excuse, he had to shave and get a fresh set of clothes before he went
to work tomorrow... Well, the last half of the problem could be easily
solved; all he had to do was drop by his house to pick up the necessary
items. The problem was, there was no way to do that without having to talk
to his Ma, and probably his sisters as well, since they'll all be home by
the time he got there. In fact, considering the time, it was likely that
his family would be in the middle of their dinner. 

"You don't feel up to facing my family, do you?" Ray asked, as they walked
out of the restaurant. 

"Well, I haven't seen them in a while," Fraser commented neutrally. Then
he remembered, "Except of course, for Francesca." 

Ray rolled his eyes and groaned. "Well," he said, as he opened the door of
the Riv and slipped in, "I need to pick up some stuff, so you can come
with me or I can drop you off first, your choice." 

Fraser fumbled with his seatbelt. "Is it prudent, Ray, to spend another
night away from your home?" he asked. 

"You want me to go home? I'll go home." 

Fraser looked down, then up at Ray, then turned away to look out the
window, and finally looked back at Ray. "No," he said. 

"Thought so," said Ray. Starting the Riv, he eased it into the street,
then turned a corner without indicating. 

"What will you tell them?" asked Fraser, noting the violation, but for
once choosing to ignore it. 

"I was thinking I could tell them we need to go on a stakeout." 

Fraser raised his eyebrows. "On what case, Ray? We just solved one. A
major one, at that." 

"Doesn't mean there can't be other cases."  

  

Fraser frowned doubtfully. "Are you sure it's all right if I come along?" 

"Sure it is," Ray smiled across at his lover, "Just make sure you let me
do the talking and don't contradict, all right?" 

"Right, Ray," said Fraser, sounding a trifle unconvinced. 

Just as Ray had guessed, the members of the Vecchio household were just
sitting down for dinner when they arrived. Ray forged right into the
melee, juggling three conversations at once as he reassured his Ma that
both he and Fraser were fine, reminded Maria to call cousin Marco about
fixing the leaks in the roof, and fielded Tony's questions about the case
he and Fraser had just solved. He registered Francesca, sitting at her
place, unusually quiet. He longed to hug her and tell her everything was
all right, only it wasn't and he was the main reason for it and he
couldn't do it anyway in front of everybody else. Fraser, in the
meanwhile, had been politely saying hello to everyone, and he, too, felt
pained by Francesca's subdued "Hi, Benton," in response to his greeting.  

Ray announced that he and Fraser were going off on another stakeout, and
was met with a chorus of "Another one?" and "You two work too hard." He
waded through the jumble of voices, pushing Fraser along with him, finally
reaching the stairway. The sound of the boisterous family scene faded
behind them as they climbed the stairs, and as the final echoes faded
behind the closed door of Ray's bedroom, Ray sagged against the door with
exaggerated relief. While Fraser chuckled at Ray's antics, Ray began
moving through the room gathering the things he needed. 

"Ray," Fraser asked after a while, "how long do you expect this 'stakeout'
to last?" 

"Wouldn't hurt to be prepared, would it?" Ray shot back. "I need to take
some clothes to keep at the Precinct, as well. With you around some days I
end up changing three times a day. And don't you deny it." Ray wagged a
finger at Fraser as he opened his mouth to protest. 

Just then they both heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, and the
sound of a door opening and closing across the hall. Francesca. The two
looked at each other. It was her actions and words over the last week, her
willingness to openly express her feelings and dreams, that had steered
them into each other's arms. Yet, in doing so, they had each in his way
betrayed her.  

Fraser looked down at his hands. The pain he felt for being unable to
return her affection now multiplied with the consternation that he had, in
effect, though without meaning to, rejected her for her brother. When he
looked back up into Ray's eyes, he saw his pain reflected there. Gesturing
at Fraser to stay, Ray slipped out of the room and slid across to his
sister's door. Softly, he rapped on it. 

"What is it?" Francesca called out. 

"Hey, it's me," Ray said, "can I come in?" 

The door opened, and Francesca stood aside as Ray walked in. Ray looked
her over. She didn't seem upset, just subdued. 

"You feeling all right, kiddo?" he asked. 

"Of course I'm all right." She tried to smile, but managed only a very
strained one. "Don't worry about me. I'll get over him, really, I will." 

Ray ran a hand over his scalp. "It's not your fault, you know," he said.
"I mean, you are my sister, but, you know, you are an attractive woman, if
I say so. You got a lot of guts, I admire you for it, really, I do." 

Francesca looked up at him. "You are just saying that to make me feel
better," she accused. 

Ray shook his head. "No, I mean it. And he does, too. He likes you, you
know, he respects you. Only not the way you want. More like a sister. He's
fond of you." 

Francesca sighed and turned away. "You're right, Ray, it's just a dream. A
silly dream." 

"It's not silly to dream, Frannie. You are right about that. And you were
right about me, too. I was afraid to dream. All these years I've been
hiding." Ray sighed. "Frannie? Will you believe me if I say I really care
about you? That I was just afraid of you being hurt?" 

Francesca frowned, perplexed. "What are you trying to say, Ray?" 

"It's Benny. Well, it's me. Well it's... Benny and I, that is..." Ray
stopped, unsure of how to proceed. "We are close, you know." 

Francesca nodded. 

"So after you yelled at me about not dreaming I finally got the nerve to
ask Benny..." Ray momentarily lost his nerve. 

"Ask Benny what?" 

"If he's gay." 

Francesca blinked. Then she raised her hand and waved it in front of her
face, as if waving away the idea. "No. That's not true. That can't be
true." 

"It is." 

"He *told* you he's gay?" 

"Well, not in so many words, but..." 

Francesca chewed on a fingernail as she absorbed the idea. "And you
suspected? For how long?" Ray shrugged. "Were you going to tell me?" 

"As I said, I only asked him last night." 

"Last night. After I left the station. You asked him. He said yes. Then
you went home with him and stayed the night... Wait a moment, you're,
you're not..." Francesca stamped her feet in frustration. "Damn it Ray!
What are you telling me?" 

"I love him, Frannie." 

Francesca was flabbergasted. She sank down onto her bed. "My god, Ray,
you, you and Benton..." Suddenly, she was stuck by something else. "That
stakeout. There's no stakeout, is there. You just made that up so you
could sneak out..." 

"Frannie." Ray knelt in front of her and grabbed her hands. "Please
Frannie. I didn't do this to hurt you. Can you see that? I just... I just
knew that Benny and I loved each other. I just didn't want to admit it.
I'm sorry I didn't admit it sooner, but that's what happened." 

"So you let me make a fool of myself." 

"Because I was a coward. Because I was afraid." 

Francesca bit her lips. Tentatively, she lifted her eyes to look at Ray.
"Does this mean Benton's going to be my brother-in-law?" she said. 

Ray let out a snort. "Oh, not so fast. Please, I only barely told him I
love him!" 

Francesca smiled faintly. "I understand, Ray," she said, dropping her gaze
down onto her laps. "But... but I don't want to see you... or him... for a
while, at least." 

Ray took in the dejected slump of her shoulders. He felt sick in his
stomach as he saw the reality of her pain, knowing there was nothing he
could do to ease it. He hoisted himself to his feet, daring only a brief
pat on her shoulder before walking into the hallway. He wasn't surprised
to see Fraser standing there, about mid-way between the rooms, arms
clasped loosely behind his back, in a stance eerily reminiscent of how
he'd been standing by that water-fountain back at the precinct... was it
only last night? "Let's go," Ray said wearily, ducking into his room to
grab his bag. 

They walked down the stairs, forged their way through the crowd of
Vecchios throwing questions and parting greetings at them, and made it out
of the house. 

Fraser waited until they were securely in the Riv before asking, "Are you
sure that was a good idea?" 

Ray grimaced. "Good idea? I don't know it was a good idea. I just felt I
owed her the truth." 

Fraser stared out the front window. "Sometimes truth is painful." 

"Amen to that." 

Fraser inhaled the pain in Ray's voice. It filtered into his soul,
mingling with his own deepfelt joy, painful in its intensity, naked in its
preciousness, frightening in its fragility. What price did they have to
pay for this, what sacrifices were they willing to make, how much
punishment will they be able to withstand? 

"I love you, Ray," he said, quietly. 

Ray blinked. He held himself still, watching the wind rustle the leaves on
the trees across the street. Without looking, Ray held his hand out
towards Fraser, felt Fraser's hand being placed in his, and squeezed it
gently. Stillness filled the interior of the car, holding the two of them
securely in place, sheltering them, for the moment, from the world
outside. The circle of light cast by the streetlight wobbled with the
wind. The Riv tilted, along with the universe, while heaven and earth
revolved, surely and silently, in the deepening night. 

"Let's go home," said Ray.