This story is slash, containing characters who (sadly) do not belong to me
and both happen to be men who want to have sex with each other. I'm not
writing this for any gain other than my own personal amusement. This story
is rated PG.  

 

What follows is the tenth installment in the "One Ray, Two Ray, Old Ray,
New Ray" (with all due deference to Dr. Suess) which will have something
in it to please or offend everyone, including Fraser/Kowalski pairings,
Fraser/Vecchio, and even Vecchio/Kowalski. You have been warned. 

 

This story takes place post "Confessions" and begins during "Mountie on
the Bounty." All previous stories archived at
http://members.tripod.com/wtnsslist. Permission granted to archive at that
sight, as well as any and all other Due South archives. 

 

any comments, suggestions, or complaints can be sent to me at
magik@socketis.net  "Mounted on the Bounty"  Barbara J. Webb  

 He had hit Fraser.  

 That fact kept swimming around in Ray's head as he stalked away from the
lake's edge. He had hit Fraser. He, Stanley Raymond Kowalski had hit
Benton Fraser. His friend, his partner, his lover. And Ray had hit him.  

 Fraser's fault, he tried to tell himself. If the Mountie hadn't insisted
on arguing and arguing - Ray had given his warning. If Fraser had just
stopped talking for a minute, just given Ray a chance to catch his breath,
to think, to calm down. Fair warning. 

 Ray had hit Fraser. 

 It had just happened, and then Fraser had given him that look - that sad,
resigned look. Not angry - that would have made it better. Not even really
hurt or surprised. Almost like he had seen it coming - like he'd expected
it. Like he'd known all along that Ray was going to hit him. And maybe
that hurt worst of all. That look on Fraser's face - like Ray had just
confirmed something Fraser had believed all along. 

 Ray had hit Fraser. 

 Somehow, it was all falling apart, the way everything in Ray's life
eventually fell apart. Fraser's distance lately, the way they had started
arguing - stopped communicating - it was all falling apart. Ray knew what
he had to do. * * * * * 

 The lights of Chicago reflected off the still waters of the lake with a
shimmering brilliance, but Ray hardly noticed. Neither he nor Fraser said
a word as they approached the edge of the lake where just that afternoon
Ray had done the inconceivable. 

 He had hit Fraser, and something had broken.  

 They faced each other, the bright city lights sparkling behind. "This is
where it started, so this is where we'll end it." 

 Fraser continued to stare at the ground, and mumbled. "Ray, I was over
there." 

 "All right." They traded places, both avoiding each other's gazes. Ray
couldn't understand how they had fallen so far so fast - they had come so
close.... 

 And that was it. No way Fraser really wanted to be this close to a skinny
Chicago cop with experimental hair. They had gotten too close, and Fraser
had wanted out, but the stupid Mountie was too polite to say anything.
Well, Ray would say it for him and save him the trouble. 

 "I can't do this, Ray." Even now, Fraser was determined to make this
difficult. As if it wasn't enough that Ray's heart was being torn apart by
the distance in those soft blue eyes. 

 "Look, you have to."  

 Fraser sighed. "This is for good." As though he was telling Ray something
he didn't already know. 

 "You put in your transfer, I'll put in mine, it's quits." The words were
hard to get out - just as hard to say now as they had been earlier when he
had first brought this up with Fraser. Wasn't it supposed to get easier? 

 "You sure about this?"  

 Ray searched the Mountie's face one more time, looking for some hint of
the warmth, the affection, the joy in his presence that he had once
believed was there. Now Ray had to wonder if he'd just imagined it. There
was only sadness and acceptance - in Fraser's eyes was the distance with
which he approached the rest of the world. After this afternoon, Ray had
been moved into the category of 'everyone else', the people Fraser
protected, would do anything for, except let them touch him, get close,
hurt him. Ray hardened his heart against the stabbing pain that threatened
to shatter the hard mask he'd been wearing all night. "Do it." 

 And Fraser did. The punch hurt like hell - damn, that Mountie could hit.
Ray took a strange comfort in the fact that Fraser hadn't seemed to be
pulling his punch any. It took him a minute to recover, to stand back up
and face Fraser. The closing of their relationship. "There. Done." His
nose was probably going to hurt for days. "Pleasure working with you." He
turned to leave, needing to get some distance from all of this, but Fraser
was still just standing there. Despite everything, or maybe because of it,
he still couldn't just leave Fraser like that. "C'mon, I'll give you a
lift." 

 The silence in the car pounded against Ray's ears. Fraser was two feet
and a million miles away from him. More than anything he wanted to reach
over and run his fingers through Fraser's hair, to kiss him, to tell him
he took it all back. 

 But the silence had been there for days, long before Ray had hit Fraser,
and Ray knew that no simple apology could take it away. Nothing Ray
Kowalski could do would take away the silence. They had gotten too close,
and it had finally sunk in on Fraser that he wasn't really the one Fraser
wanted to be with - could never be. 

 He reached down to turn the car on, and that was when the body came out
of nowhere to land on the hood. Fraser jumped out immediately while Ray
was still groping for the radio. It only took him a second to call for
back-up, then he was out of the car on the other side of the body. 

 Once again, life had slapped Ray upside the head. "All right. Okay, one
more case." Fraser nodded. "Then we're done." 

 But Ray suspected that, seeing as how Benton Fraser was involved, it
wouldn't be nearly that easy. * * * * * 

 It wasn't.  

 Through a bizarre sequence of events that could only have happened around
Fraser, Ray had ended up in a tiny sub, lost underwater, and pressed so
close against Fraser he could barely breathe.  

 "Yer hoggin all the room, Fraser, can you move your leg?" 

 "No, I can't move my leg." 

 "Why?" 

 "It's asleep." 

 "Oh." It was crazy - Ray knew it was crazy, but Fraser's solid presence
in front of him, the warmth radiating from him, was starting to have an
effect on him. Stuck underwater - probably going to die, and Ray's brain
couldn't distract itself from Fraser's hard body against his. "You got any
idea where we are." 

 As always, Fraser had a quick answer. "Yes, you're right behind me and
I'm right in front of you." 

 Between their impending doom and the echo of Ray's own thoughts, Fraser's
comment wasn't in the least funny. "I mean in the water." 

 Fraser looked back at Ray, looking surprised at Ray's sharp tone. "Oh,
well we should be coming across six fathoms shoal, at which point I'll be
able to navigate by dead reckoning." He paused, before adding the
inevitable Fraser 'the whole truth and nothing but.' "Well, that is
provided that I've calculated correctly." 

 "And if you haven't?" Ray wasn't even certain he wanted an answer to that
question. 

 "Well, then we'll be hopelessly lost." 

 It was too much. Their break-up, the water, the sinking ship, the close
confines - Ray snapped. "Aw, see, this is what I love about you, Fraser,
that real positive you know everything's going to work out fine kinda
attitude, really butters my muffin, its-" 

 "Thank you, Ray." Ray couldn't figure out how to answer that. Was Fraser
thanking him to shut him up, or because Ray had just given him some
weird-ass backhanded Canadianesque compliment, or because Fraser was just
so damn polite he had to thank people for kicking him in the head?  

 And now Fraser had turned around, was staring at him expectantly. Did he
expect Ray to have something else to say? "What're you looking at?" 

 "You." It was a simple answer, said directly into his eyes, and it made
Ray's heart knife painfully to one side. Why couldn't he just get away
from Fraser? Why'd it have to keep hurting? 

 But he tried to cover up the effect Fraser was having on him. "C'mon,
keep your eyes on the road....lookin' at me." He tried to squirm, find
some way to put some distance between himself and the Mountie, but it was
no use. "C'mon, Fraser, we under the creek without a paddle here, are we
lost?" 

 "No, we're not, we're not... we're not-" 

 That repetitiveness, lack of focus out of Fraser showed Ray more
effectively than any admission just how upset Fraser was. But that didn't
excuse Fraser from having to say it. "Just admit it, Fraser, we're lost." 

 "No, we're not, we're not lost." 

 "Admit. It." 

 "All right, we're lost." 

 "Okay, thank you." But somehow that admission didn't help calm Ray any.
If anything, it only heightened the singing tension in his nerves. They
were stuck, helpless, no escape, and Ray had to do something. "Go that
way." 

 But nothing was that easy with Fraser, not now - not ever. "Why?" 

 Ray was too desperate to back down now, too panicked. "I got a feeling,
it's a hunch, it'sa feeling. Go dat way!" 

 "But there's absolutely no reason why-" 

 In the close confines of the submarine, it barely took any energy at all
to raise his voice to a level where he was yelling at the Mountie. "Look,
Fraser, just this once - just this once -- I trust you every single time,
every single time I gotta trust you - just once, you trust me. Go that
way." 

 "Yeah, but if we do...." 

 "No if ands or buts, just...." Ray didn't know what else to say, what
else he could say that would convince Fraser. He was scared, and hot, and
uncomfortably cramped, and all too aware of Fraser's body, the way the
muscles rippled every time Fraser moved, the way his hair curled with
dampness. 

 But after thinking about it for what seemed like forever, Fraser made his
own miracle. "That way?" He had given in. 

 "Yeah, that way." 

 "All right." 

 Fraser turned the wheel, and the sub slowly changed direction in the
murky water. Now all they could do was wait; Ray sucked at waiting. He
wanted out of this place, out from under the pressing water, back into the
light and out of this malevolent, baneful darkness. "It's going to be all
right, Ray." 

 Ray wasn't certain who Fraser was trying to convince. "You're wrong,
Fraser. We're lost underwater with pirates chasing us and dead guys and
toxic dumping and yer leaving and *nothing* is all right, okay? So don't
tell me-" 

 "Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray." 

 "What?" Fraser was looking at him now, turned as much as he could with a
hand resting on Ray's thigh.  

 "Breathe. I'm right here." 

 Was that supposed to be comforting? "I know you're there, Fraser - how
could I help but notice, seeing as how you're practically sitting on me?" 

 "You said you were concerned about my leaving." 

 Ray couldn't remember having said anything of the sort. "Did not." 

 "You most certainly did." 

 "Fraser, why would I say that? I know you're leaving. I told you to
leave." As if the situation wasn't bad enough - Fraser was taking the
conversation into a dangerous area, causing Ray's heart to make rabbity
flutters in his chest. 

 "Yes, Ray, I know that."  

 Fraser turned to face front again, the stiffness of his next radiating
tension. The Mountie was upset, and he wasn't talking. "That is so like
you." 

 "What's that?" 

 "You just stop talking like that. You never talk - we don't communicate.
It sucks, Fraser. I hate it that we never talk. Here we are, and we're
partners and supposed to be, to be friends, and we were - well, you know,
and still you don't talk. Do you see what's wrong with this picture?" 

 From behind, Ray could easily see the muscles twitching as Fraser
clenched his jaw. "I'm sorry, Ray." 

 "Are you, Fraser? Are you really? Cause sorry means you try to fix it,
an' I don't think you're gonna change at all." Ray banged his forehead
against the back of Fraser's neck, punctuating his words. "What's wrong
with us?" 

 Fraser's hand came back, over his shoulder, to hold Ray's head still
against his back. "Ray, I'm sorry." His thumb stroked at the bristly short
hairs at the base of Ray's skull. "I've hurt you, and for that, I'm
sorry." 

 "Dammit, Fraser-" Ray's voice choked off as he pounded his fist against
the side of the boat. "Why is this happening?" Fraser said nothing, just
continued to pet Ray's head. "What is wrong with this picture?" 

 Fraser's other hand came around to rub Ray's thigh. "What do you want me
to say?" 

 "Why are you leaving me?" 

 "You told me to, Ray." Fraser sounded genuinely confused. "Isn't that
what you want?" 

 "I don't know anymore. I just don't know. I feel like you already left,
you know? Like you just went away and there's this fake Fraser walking
around, only like you're some sorta pod person from another planet because
you're not the same as you were." Ray couldn't keep from wrapping his arms
around Fraser's chest, running his lips over the base of Fraser's slick,
salty tasting neck.  

 Leaning his head forward, Fraser sucked in his breath. "I don't know what
you're talking about. I haven't gone anywhere." 

 Still, Fraser didn't want to talk. Ray couldn't stand how much it hurt,
how much this entire situation hurt. But he still wasn't sure it would get
any better - ever - whether Fraser left or not. He loved Fraser, but
Fraser didn't - couldn't - love him back. Ray had to back off, to find
himself again.	

 But it was still hard to let Fraser go. Taking a deep breath, Ray
released the Mountie. "Are we still friends, Frase?" 

 "Of course, Ray. Always." 

 "Cause that's important to me. That we're friends. More important than
anything else." 

 "For me as well." 

 Ray nodded, patting Fraser on the back. "That's good. Cause I've been
thinking - maybe we tried to do too much - you know, to be too, um, close
an' that wasn't working. So I just...uh, just wanted you to know we're
still friends."  

 "Thank you, Ray." 

 "So let's try an get out of here, okay?" * * * * * 

 The bad guys were captured and put away; the crime was solved; they were
on their way home, but still there was the lingering shadow of his future
hanging over Ray's head. He trudged across the deck of the ship, kicking
aimlessly at the ropes lying on the hardwood. At the sight of Fraser, he
hesitated, looked at the Mountie. Fraser gave a small jerk of his head,
walked over to the ships railing, where Ray joined him. 

 "So, transfer, ya thought about it?" 

 Fraser's answer was as quick and as solid as Ray expected from the
Mountie. "Well, it would be the logical career move." 

 "I know, that's what I think - that's what my instinct tells me." 

 They stood, leaning on the railing, staring out at the waves. Ray could
barely breathe, the though of losing Fraser squeezing at his insides with
a grip of ice. His world was rocking - and not just from the movement of
the ship. If Fraser left, and he left, this lunatic, zany year was over
and he went back to being just regular Ray Kowalski again, divorced,
lonely Chicago homicide detective not much different from every other
divorced, lonely Chicago homicide detective. If Fraser didn't leave --
what then? 

 "Thank you."  

 Fraser was speaking out of turn again. "For what?" 

 "Well, I realize that logic doesn't always work." 

 Another flutter hit the pit of Ray's stomach, although he wasn't sure if
this was hope or panic. "I know, an I realize that going on instinct
doesn't always work either." 

 "No. No, so...." 

 This was crazy - Ray needed an answer. "You gonna take the transfer?" 

 "I don't think so. You?"  

 The vice around Ray's heart loosened. Fraser was staying. "Me? No."  

 "All right, so we're...we're still, uh...." 

 They were still what? Partners? Yes, if Fraser stayed, they were partners
again. Friends? Fraser had said always, if Ray could believe that. Lovers?
That still hurt too much to think about. Best to save that one for later.
"I think." 

 "Okay." 

 "Good." 

 "Right you are." 

 And that was that. Another whirlwind case solved with Fraser at his side,
and Ray wasn't sure if he'd gained back everything they'd lost, but the
magic had certainly been there in the hold of the fake Robert McKenzie,
when he and Fraser had communicated everything with a look and a gesture
and moved in perfect rhythm. Back on track. Partners.  

 They turned in unison, leaning back against the railings, their shoulders
touching, and Ray couldn't hold back a smile. Fraser wasn't leaving after
all - everything else, right now, seemed academic. His smile grew wider,
and he looked over at Fraser, who had a similar grin on his face. Then Ray
had the urge to laugh.	

 And the world seemed, for now, okay.