Reflections	  Reflections by Lucy Britt

  

 Disclaimer - Due South and its characters belong to Alliance. Any
resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. 

 This story contains spoilers for 'Asylum'. 

 REFLECTIONS 

 I think I'm falling in love with you. There I've said it, admitted it to
myself and that's something, even if I never tell you how I feel and I
won't, couldn't bear to have you turn away from me just as I'm beginning
to think that you actually trust me. When you came running into the
consulate yelling my name I was so happy. Why? Because you'd come to me.
There's a whole city full of people out there and yet you came to me -
I'll never forget that. I would have put everything on the line for you
Ray and if you had been guilty... but no, you would never do anything like
that. How easy it would have been to have told you how I felt that last
night in the consulate. Only you would think of running off into the night
in order to prove your innocence at the risk of losing your liberty. I
told you you were my partner, my friend, that I believed in you, if only I
could have told you that I loved you. I couldn't bear to see you hurting,
doubting yourself. I must admit I got a lot of pleasure out of watching
Cahill squirm when he was trying to arrest you and when he grabbed
Inspector Thatcher, or the Ice Queen as you insist on calling her, I was
more worried about you than her, worried that you'd do something
impulsive. That is your greatest failing Ray, that you don't think things
through. Take the way you fled the scene after Volpe was killed. It made
you a prime suspect - exactly what Cahill wanted. But at least it all
ended well and I feel closer to you now, I hope you feel the same way. You
are not just a substitute for Ray Vecchio, not to me, you never were.
You're the man I love, the only one I've ever loved and I would do
anything for you, except tell you how I feel. So that's it really, my only
regret about this whole affair is that you're no longer staying at the
consulate but I manage to see you every day and that's enough - for now. 

 I don't think I ever said sorry for punching you, I meant to but then we
got involved in that whole pirate thing and apologies went out of the
window. It was during that case, we thought it was going to be our last,
when you did that buddy breathing thing, when I asked you why you said it
was because I seemed to need it. I know you were giving me air Fraser but
sometimes I like to think that there was more to it. Okay so we nearly
died trapped in that boat but we came out of it stronger than ever and
while I've always trusted you I was never sure that you trusted me. I know
now you do Frase, I know you believe in me. I guess Cahill did us a favour
cos now we're closer friends than ever before. I feel comfortable with you
Fraser, like I could tell you anything - well almost anything. Cos there's
one thing I won't ever tell you, can't tell you how your smile makes me go
weak at the knees, can't tell you that I love you, that I want you, that
half of the problems we've had are cos I can't let you know how I really
feel. I always thought that pushing you away was the right thing to do, I
know now it wasn't and I'm sorry, so sorry but I don't tell know how to
tell you that. I'm Ray, I don't wear my heart on my sleeve, never have and
never will. God I'm bored, sitting here on the most unproductive stakeout
ever. I wish you were here even if it meant I had to listen to one of
those stupid Innuit stories you're so keen on. Finally! Huey and Duey are
pulling up behind me. I can leave, go check in with Welsh and then I guess
I'll go home, do some more thinking about you. Jeez I wish I could think
of an excuse to drop in at the consulate. It was nice living there even
given the circumstances, could even put up with Turnbull and his curling
obsession as long as it meant having you close. Welsh is closeted in his
office with some guy from the justice department so I sit down at my desk
to wait. Fran's not around which kinda surprises me but then since I've
been on stakeout duty all day there wouldn't be any reason for you to drop
by. I'm counting the cracks on the ceiling when I hear your voice, I don't
respond, afraid that I'll look too eager, afraid that you'll  guess
something's wrong. "Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray." I've lost count of the number of
times you've done that and smiling  

 I swing my feet off the desk and stand up. There you are Fraser, you're
smiling but... well I know I'm not the most intuitive guy in the world but
can I actually see a flicker of indecision in your beautiful blue eyes?
You're coming towards me, your Mountie uniform immaculate as always and
suddenly my mouth is bone dry, my palms are sweating, jeez I feel like a
kid on his first date. "Frase," I tilt my head and look at you, gods but
you're beautiful. "Ray, Inspector Thatcher gave me the evening off and I
wondered, well obviously I won't be offended if you have other	plans.."
"Spit it out Frase." "I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me
tonight?" I grin, you sound so unsure of yourself and there's a blush
stealing  

 up your face. I wonder... Casually so it'll look almost accidental I
reach across and touch your hand where it's resting on my desk. Can't
believe I'm doing this especially here in the precinct. Your fingers
twitch but you don't pull away from me, instead your eyes lock with mine
and I gasp. There's no mistaking the emotion on your face, the desire in
your eyes and I know you can see the same in my eyes. "Fraser..." 

 I think my heart stopped beating for a while, how can one simple touch
produce such a reaction? When your fingers brushed mine I felt like
someone had put a thousand volts through my body. I know the touch was an
accident but I couldn't stop myself from looking at you even though I knew
there was no way you wouldn't see my true feelings. So I looked up,
expecting to see you shrink away from me, to see disgust on your face, to
hear you turn down what was as a matter of fact a totally innocent dinner
invitation. What I saw instead was a flicker of desire deep in your eyes,
it was gone the next moment and I would have thought that I'd imagined it
except you said my name, a question hanging in the air between us, a
question that I could have left unanswered. "Ray." I put my heart into my
voice and you smile at me, that cheeky heartstopping grin that I can't
resist. I want to say so much to you but not here, it's too public. The
closet, that's the only place we can go and I wonder how to suggest it to
you but I can see the understanding on your face, know that the same idea
has occurred to you and as one we start walking. You're walking just far
enough away from me so that we don't touch, so that to anyone watching it
will appear that nothing has changed between us but it has, for better or
for worse I'm not sure. The anticipation, the fear churning my stomach is
making me feel sick, I never realised before how long it takes to walk
across this office. "Thank you kindly." You're holding the door open for
me but my legs are shaking so much I can hardly walk through it. You're
grinning, laughing at my sudden loss of control and with an affectionate
hand on the small of my back you push me inside, pulling the door closed
behind you and the darkness enfolds us. We're standing in silence, I can
hear your breathing and I struggle to think of something to say but for
once all my resources seem to have deserted me. "You know Ray in many ways
this reminds me of..." I expected to be interrupted, you've done it enough
times in the past but never like this. Your lips swoop onto mine and I
reach out blindly pulling you closer to me, pressing my body against
yours. I can't help myself, I force my tongue into your mouth, groaning
with pleasure and I feel your wiry body quivering in response. It is with
difficulty that I pull myself away from you, I am not rejecting you, your
touch, but we should talk. My father always said that in order to have a
good relationship you first need a firm foundation and that's what I want
for us, a firm foundation. We have our friendship but I don't want to risk
this, don't want to lose you Ray, not ever. "Whadya want to know Fraser?"
Your voice is mocking but I can hear the affection there, the love? "Are
you sure about this Ray?" 

 "I know how I feel about you." Those words make me so happy, I don't
think I've ever felt more alive than I do right now. "Thank you." 

 You reach out your hand, touch my cheek and overwhelmed I catch hold of
your hand enveloping each sensitive finger in turn with my mouth, this is
my thanks. "There's just one thing I need to know," I can hear the catch
in your voice, the edge of fear, "did you ever feel like this about
Vecchio? Did you ever kiss him? Look at him like you look at me?" Oh Ray. 

 I'm listening so hard my ears hurt, waiting for your response. I know
what I want you to say, that you and Vecchio were just friends but I also
know that wanting something doesn't make it happen, learnt that  lesson a
long time ago. I can't see your face but I know the instant you open your
mouth to speak and my body tenses. "Ray Vecchio was a  

 good friend, we went through a lot together and I miss him." I realise
I'm not breathing. "But I never felt about him the way I feel about you."
Now I can breathe, you reach out one hand and our fingers twine together.
"Ray I.."  I don't know what you're going to say but I interrupt anyway.
"Fraser call me Stan from now on." "Stan?" You try the name out. "But I
thought  

 you hated being called Stan." "Not by you," I know you can hear the catch
in my voice, know that you understand why I want you to call me by a name
that I've never liked. "I've never thought of you as a Ray Vecchio
substitute." He's read my mind, odd the way he can do that. "Not ever?" 
"Not once." I know you're smiling and I am too. I want to seal this moment
with  

 a kiss but a sudden flood of light makes me blink as Lieutenant Welsh
pulls the closet doors open. "Ah Lieutenant Welsh," your recovery is fast
but it's me who realises we're still holding hands. "Constable." Then
Welsh looks at me, I'm trying to work my fingers loose but the damn
Mountie won't let go. "Didn't your shift end a half hour ago?"	"Yes it
did sir but Constable Fraser dropped by and wanted my advice about
something." "What?" "It's a rather delicate matter." You speak up now but
I can see that	

 Welsh isn't convinced. "Go home Vecchio and stop cluttering up my
closets." 

 I sidle past Welsh, walk over to my desk to collect my jacket, all the
time conscious of you. We leave the precinct together and no one bats an
eyelid. Of course they don't, they don't see that anything's changed
between us, it's just Vecchio and the Mountie, same as always. We get to
my car but I can't remember where I put my keys. I'm searching every
pocket when you put a hand on my shoulder. "Stan." So you've got my keys.
I grab them off you but my hands are shaking so much that I can't get them
into the lock and I'm in serious danger of scratching the paintwork. Your
gentle hands close over mine and suddenly my whole body's shaking, what in
hell's wrong with me? "Do you want me to drive?"  I nod, "yeah Frase." You
smile, tilt your head to one side in that endearing manner of yours.  

 "It's brake, gas right Stan?" I don't really hear what you're saying and
somehow I mange to stumble around to the other side of the car. We're both
inside now, both wearing seatbelts, I know by now how you feel about that
and you ask me where I want you to take me. "Home." I don't think about
the implications, don't think that when we get to my apartment and I
invite you in you'll hesitate. Never would have done before but in those
few moments as you start the engine I can't remember if you've ever been
in my apartment before, I certainly can't remember if I bothered to clean
up this morning. Look at what you've done to me Fraser, I can't even think
straight anymore. Suddenly I remember something, "you want to go out to
dinner."  You shake your head. "I think we need a little bit of privacy at
the moment." I nod stupidly in agreement, my heart's beating so hard I'm  

 surprised it doesn't burst out of my chest. Privacy for what? 

 It's hard to concentrate on driving with you by my side. You're shaking
like a leaf and I just want to put my arms around you, tell you that
everything's all right, that you don't need to be frightened, not anymore.
The words stick in my throat, you look so vulnerable all of a sudden.
Asking me to call you Stan showed me just how vulnerable you are, how much
you need to know that it's you I love, you I want. And it is, I want to
shout it to the world. We're here. I feel almost disappointed that this
drive is over. I hate parking your car, can never seem to judge its width
properly and I'm waiting for you to make an acerbic comment about my lack
of skill but you don't say a word. "Ra.. Stan," I mange to remember the
new name I must call you by when we're alone together. You look at me,
blue eyes full of doubt and I'm worried that I've let things go too far,
that I should have kept my feelings to myself. "We'll get pizza." Your
hand is on the door and I realise that you're inviting me in. I smile and
you respond in kind. I want to take your hand but something stops me. I
have to open the door to your apartment, you're still shaking. You pick up
the phone, "what toppings Frase?"  "Blubber and lichen," I tell you and
there it is, that grin. "... and pineapple." The emphasis makes me smile
and I watch as you  

 reluctantly drop the phone. I know why because now it's just the two of
us and we'll have to talk. "Sit down Fraser." You break the silence first
and I obediently sink down into an armchair. You remain standing, one hand
raking through your blonde hair until it's standing on end and your blue
eyes are unfocused. I don't know what you're thinking, usually I can make
pretty shrewd guesses but not now. You take a step forward, towards me
then bend over. I watch in fascination as you remove your boots, can't
take my eyes off your arse, your legs, your arms, your hands. Your boots
gone you look at me, there's a smile hovering on your lips and then a
little awkwardly, I guess you've never done this before, you curl yourself
onto my lap. I put my arms around you and hold your trembling body,
breathing in your scent. It intoxicates me and I can't help myself, I bend
my head, run my tongue across the line of your jaw, tasting you. "Fraser
what are we doing?" Your eyes are full of doubt. 

 "Do you want to be with me, like this?" You don't answer. "Stan?" "Yes I
do. I actually do." You're grinning at me and as though to show you mean
it you kiss me. Your lips are so soft, so warm, I could kiss you for ever.
Your hands I think are on my shoulders, in my hair but I am barely
conscious of anything but the kiss. Your tongue in my mouth, restless, on
the move, I hear a groan and know it's coming from my throat. There's a
knock on the door but you don't stop kissing me. "No. No interruptions
Frase."  "Pizza," I manage to gasp between kisses and reluctantly you pull
yourself off me. "Pizza, right."  

 I'm searching my pockets for money, the pizza guy's waiting impatiently
and you, your dark hair tousled and your jacket crooked stand up and hand
the guy a twenty. He's gone, the door is closed and I'm staring at you,
can't quite believe you're standing here in my apartment, taking off your
jacket, asking where the plates are. It reminds me of just a few days ago
when you went and rescued my files - when you started to undress in front
of me at the consulate I didn't know where to put my eyes, afraid that if
I stared too hard you'd realise something was up. I grab a piece of pizza
realising how hungry I am. You take it off me, put it onto a plate and
hand it back. I grin, Cahill was right, your manners are quaint but I love
them, just like I love you. Can you hear my thoughts? Fascinated I watch
you eat, wondering if I should offer you a fork, a napkin perhaps. 'Cept I
don't have any napkins. So we're both eating, both wondering what's gonna
happen next. Where do we go from here? I've never done this before and I
guess you haven't either. Don't wanna rush things, don't wanna make you
think I'm not interested, don't wanna mess this up. 

 The last piece of pizza. I know how proprietorial you are about your
pizza and so I sit back watching you chew and swallow, chew and swallow.
It's hard to believe but watching you eat is actually turning me on. I
shift uncomfortably, my erection burning a hole in my jeans but there's
fear in your eyes and I don't want to frighten you. You stand up, put your
plate down on the table and entranced I watch you walk over to your
stereo. Soft music floods the room and you start swaying in time. There's
a smile on your lips and you hold your arms out towards me. "Dance with me
Fraser." 

 I barely dare breathe as I wrap my arms around you, this feels so
perfect, so right, as though my whole life has been leading up to this one
moment and yet despite this your body trembles in my arms. I want to
ignore it, want to ignore the reason why, the bald truth I can see in your
eyes. "Stan," I whisper your name, close my eyes and press my lips to
yours. Your response is intensely passionate, almost desperate and I
tighten my hold on you. There is nothing but this moment and I surrender
myself to it, for once letting my normal rigidity drop away like a snake
sheds its skin I don't want anything to come between us, not tonight, not
ever. Somehow you're standing naked in my arms, how did that happen? A
piece of time has been stolen from me but I let it go. I'm naked too and
the feel of your flesh against mine is mind blowing. "I love you Stan,"
the words are on my lips before I've had a chance to think about them, to
wonder what their effect on you might be. Too late now and you take my
hand, lead me into the bedroom, lie down next to me. "I love you Fraser,"
there's a sadness behind the words that I choose to ignore and I kiss you
again while my hands linger across the cool firmness of your skin, the
sight of you is too much for me and thoughts of gentleness desert me and
you groan your body arching upwards. I know I'm being rough but I can't
seem to stop myself. Somehow the minutes run together and it seems only a
few seconds later that your body tenses and you are calling out my name.
Now I want to hold you, fall asleep with you in my arms but you're pulling
away from me. The distance you are creating between us is a palpable
entity and I struggle to breach it but you stand up, foiling my plans.
"Fraser," blue eyes on the verge of tears turn	towards me. "Please go."
"Stan," I'm on my feet now, not sure I heard what you said correctly, "you
don't want me to go." "You have to, I  

 can't.. we shouldn't.."  "You said you loved me." "And I do," there's
pain in your voice and I know I have to go, this  

 isn't right for us. In another time, another place it might have worked
but not here, not now. "Goodbye Stan." You won't let me kiss you and so I
gather my clothes together, dress and leave your apartment. Only when I'm
outside do I let the tears fall. This is only the second time I've been in
love, the second time I have both loved and lost, the only difference is
that this time I don't know why. 

 I can't believe you're gone, can't believe I let you go. I wanna throw
the door open, run after you, call you back to me but I don't. It wouldn't
do any good I know that. For a moment I thought it would work, thought we
could be together but then I looked into your eyes, full of love for me
and I knew. 

 Oh yeah, today you say you love me but tomorrow it'll be a different
story, just like it was with Stella. I can't go through all that shit
again, not with you. It would hurt to much to lose your friendship the way
I lost Stella's. 

 Then there's your career. They sent you south because you turned in a
Mountie, what would they do to you if they found out about us. Jeez what
am I saying? There is no us, at least not in that sense. Friends - that's
all we'll ever be and although one time when you called me your friend it
filled me with joy now it just hurts like hell. Hurts cos I know we'll
never be anything else. 

 I'm an idiot and my stomach's cramping, all that pizza has turned into a
hundredweight of stone. Slowly my legs give way and I collapse down onto
the couch. Everything in the apartment accuses me of cowardice and I bow
my head. I am a coward and it doesn't matter how many citations they stick
on my record I know that'll never change. 

 There's a familiar shape next to me, I can see it out of the corner of my
eye. You left your hat behind. I can feel tears prickling my eyes, you
never forget your hat and I realise how much my rejection of you must have
hurt. I pick it up, holding the brim gently between my fingers. Somehow it
makes me feel connected to you, as though I'm holding a piece of you. My
cheeks are wet, my nose running faster than a three-year-old in the
Kentucky Derby. I'm sobbing like a baby and I'm just glad I'm alone, my
reputation would dissolve over night if anyone ever saw me like this. You
Fraser are the only one in front of who I can be myself. 

 Even Stella had me feeling like I had to put on an act for her but not
you. You accept me for who I am, what I am, you don't try to pigeonhole
me. The son, the cop, the husband, I've been all of those things but to
you I'm just Ray - a person in my own right. You don't feel the need to
define me as others do and yet conversely I am defined by you. You make me
feel real, feel valued, like my being around actually makes a difference
to you. I know you miss me when I'm not there, I know you love me. 

 I'm turning your hat over in my hands, can't help noticing the bank notes
tucked away inside but there's something else there. A much folded sheet
of paper, tucked away and I find myself reaching for it. My hands shake as
I unfold it, the creases are sharp, it's obviously been here in your hat
for some time. It's a letter, a quick glance reveals that it's addressed
to me but I don't feel that I should read it. There must be a reason why
you haven't given this to me and I shouldn't read it and so I'm already
putting it back inside your Stetson. 

 Seconds tick by and I realise that the letter is still in my hands and I
let it fall to the floor. I can smell you on me, my clothes, my skin, your
scent is all over me and I'm tearing my clothes off, racing for the
shower. I want to scrub the memory of you away, the memory of your touch,
your lips on my skin. The warm water sluicing over my body makes me
shudder and no matter how hard I scrub I can still feel your hands on me,
the ghost of a memory. I close my eyes, maybe when I open them again
you'll be there. The disappointment when I realise I'm alone is like a
physical blow. 

 I don't bother to dry myself, just wrap a towel around my waist. I wish
you were here and without even realising that I'm doing it I band down and
pick the letter up off the floor. I'm gonna read it, it's the next best
thing to having you here and after the way I acted tonight I don't think
you'll ever be coming here again. 

 'Ray,' the letters are crooked as though your hands shook as you wrote
it. 'Forgive me if my words seem gauche.' Gauche? 'I've never written a
letter like this before mainly because I've never had anyone to write to
like this before.' In my mind's eye I see you sitting at your desk,
rubbing your eyebrow in embarrassment as you try to come up with the words
to tell me how you feel. 

 'I love you Ray. I've loved you for a long time now and I just wish I
could summon up the courage to tell you. Everytime I look into your eyes I
see all the pain that you carry around and I want to be the one to take it
away. Will you let me? Will you let me love you Ray?' 

 The paper crumples in my fist, tears well up in my eyes. I can't believe
that anyone would write those words about me, lest of all that you would
write those words about me, that you could feel about me like that. 

 Oh my God Fraser! What have I done? I never would have pushed you away
like that if I'd known how you felt. But I never imagined that anyone as
perfect as you could ever find me attractive or fall in love with me. Oh
yeah Stella did but look how that turned out. I find myself doubting you
because I doubt myself. 

 I know you must be hurting. You don't wear your heart on your sleeve like
I do, you hide everything away, all those niggling doubts and insecurities
that everyone suffers from, all hidden behind your impenetrable Mountie
exterior until everyone thinks you're some kind of superman, even me, the
guy who knows you better than anyone, the guy you let your guard down in
front of, the guy who pushed you away. I have to talk to you, I have to
tell you what I've been thinking, how sorry I am for treating you like
some kind of leper. 

 There's a damp patch on the couch where I've been sitting but I ignore
it, gotta get to the phone, gotta speak to you Fraser. For a moment I
panic trying to remember the consulate's number and I almost drop the
handset I'm shaking so much. 

 "Hello Canadian Consulate." Turnbull and I end the call. I know
Turnbull's not the most intuitive of people but I'm afraid if I spoke he'd
know something was wrong. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, I can
talk to Turnbull, I can. 

 Only problem is when I pick up the phone it's not Turnbull who answers
but the Ice Queen and my carefully phrased request to speak to you goes
clean out of my head. 

 "Hello? Hello?" Thatcher's getting annoyed, her voice is rising, she
probably thinks I'm some dirty old man or something getting his kicks from
calling vulnerable women. Okay so Thatcher's not exactly vulnerable but
you get the idea. 

 It's another ten minutes before I can bring myself to pick up the phone
again. It doesn't matter if it's Turnbull or Thatcher this time I can
handle 'em. 

 "Hello Canadian Consulate.." 

 Fraser! I'm standing like a dummy, couldn't speak even if I wanted to and
I can hear your brain whirring, working out who it is. 

 "Stan? Stan?" There's a gentleness in your tone that brings a lump to my
throat and I raise an unsteady hand to my eyes. 

 "Frase." It's barely a whisper but you hears me. 

 "Stan are you okay?" 

 No I'm not, I wanna tell you but the words won't come out and I'm shaking
like a leaf. "You left your hat here," I finally manage to gasp. 

 "Oh," you sound thoughtful, like you're trying to weigh up my mood. "I'll
come and get it." 

 "Naw," I'm trying hard to sound normal, "I'll drop it off at the
consulate tomorrow." 

 "Right you are then." You don't even try to argue with me and the line
goes dead and I'm on my knees crying. Jeez I haven't cried this hard since
Stella left me and the tears won't stop. 

 And so I'm here in the middle of my apartment crying like a baby and then
you're there. How the hell did you get here so fast? And your arms are
around me and my head's buried in your shoulder and suddenly you're crying
as well but you don't let go and right then and there I know we'll be
together forever. 

 The End.