Infinite, by Latonya  

Notes: This is both an AU and a Due South/Buffy, the Vampire Slayer
cross-over. From a dream, partially, as well as an evening spent watching
several Fraser/Kowalski episodes of Due South. In the universe depicted
here, the events of Hunting Season and Call of the Wild never happen. 

Pairing: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski. 

Disclaimers, et al.: Alliance and Warner Brothers thinks it owns these
characters. Alliance and Warner Brothers can go right on thinking that.
Rated NC-17 for boy-on-boy stuff and language. There is some blood
involved in this, not much, but you have been warned. Unbetaed, so any
mistakes are mine. 

Feedback is muchly wanted and will be greedily slurped at LaToot@aol.com. 

Infinite
 by LaT 

Ray decides on the simple black tee-shirt, slips it on as he glances at
the clock for what must be the umpteenth time since waking from a sleep he
knows lasted the entire day. He feels invigorated and thoroughly alive and
is impatient for Fraser to join him. He has something...special planned
for them and as far as he is concerned, Fraser's duties at the Consulate
can't be completed soon enough. 

They have been apart for two weeks, the longest period of time they have
spent away from one another since the day they first met. Even before
becoming lovers, they spent most of their time together. Indeed, the only
genuine change occasioned by the realization of their true feelings for
each other after the Denny Scarpa case is that a goodly portion of their
off-duty time is spent making love. 

Two weeks in California preparing for and participating in the trial of an
all-purpose, multi-jurisdictional serial killer has left Ray *hungry* for
Fraser. He is also nervous and worried about how Fraser will receive his
news. Ray thinks of it as a gift, but is not certain Fraser will see it
that way, and the plan he's devised to share it feels both dangerous and
right. He must share this with Fraser. For Ray, there really is no other
choice. 

// 

His last night in L.A. and Ray is sitting in a bar that clearly prides
itself on its rough-trade clientele. He likes the seediness of it simply
because it amuses him. The bad-ass factor is high and there is enough
leather in the room to outfit a third world country. He is not there to
scope or be scoped, just needs air and a change of scene from the inside
of a court or his hotel room. Nothing in the bar moves or excites him even
a fraction as much as Fraser does, although there is an awful lot of
prettiness on display. 

He is on his second gin and tonic when he feels someone sidle up to the
bar beside him. A blond someone. A *very* blond someone. Several bottles
of peroxide did their duty for the shade of hair sported by the man now
next to him. //That's what 'white-blond' means//, he thinks as the man
asks for a bourbon straight up, water back. 

Ray can't stop himself and looks over at the sound of the other man's
voice. Cool accent. Sharper and harder than Ray's own. Clearly British.
English. Ray's heard that accent in old movies. *Cockney*, yeah. Ray's
still not scoping and doesn't plan to be scoped, but the Cockney One *is*
hot in a petulant, James Dean sort of way. Ray chuckles to himself at
that, wonders how many times in his own life that description's been
applied to him. 

"Something funny?" Cockney's eyes are on him now, and Ray takes his time
before answering. Hot, yes. Not hot enough to make Ray forget he's got
Fraser waiting at home. 

"No. You just...remind me of someone, that's all." Good Kowalski, he tells
himself. Nice, steady "thanks but no thanks" tone. 

Cockney rolls his eyes as he takes a sip of his drink. "Like I haven't
fucking heard *that* one before." 

Ray shrugs. *He* knows it's not a line, and that's all that matters. He
takes another sip of gin, thinks to himself it would taste even better if
it was on Fraser's skin. He's ready to go back to minding his own
business, but he's gotten Cockney's attention now. 

"So." That accent's like a slap and Ray can't help but look back up. "Who
do I remind *you* of?" 

// 

Ray begins swiveling his hips to the percolating bass line sneaking out of
his stereo. Dancing is the only thing that takes his mind off the fact
that Fraser hasn't yet arrived, and it's been a long, long time since
Black Box's gotten a whirl in the CD player. He is deep into the chorus of
"Everybody, Everybody" when a spin in the middle of the floor reveals
Fraser just...watching him. The music is so loud he didn't hear the knock
and after all that is why Fraser has his own key. 

So fucking beautiful, Ray thinks and he doesn't even bother turning off
the music before taking two loping steps across the room to wrap himself
around Ben. Fraser smells of soap, leather, cedar and something that Ray
has given up trying to name anything other than 'Fraser.' He feels those
strong, Mountie fingers digging into his scalp and the only thing he can
think to do is moan his pleasure at it into Fraser's mouth. 

"Missed you, " he gets out when they come up for air, then he dives back
in for another kiss before Fraser can respond. 

"I've missed you, too, Ray," Fraser murmurs these words against Ray's
neck, swipes his tongue along the skin. He's tugging on the tee-shirt,
pulling it free of Ray's pants and sliding his hands underneath. 

"You hungry?" Ray says this as he pushes Fraser's jacket to the floor,
starts working the belt and then the buttons of the other man's jeans. 

"Yes." Fraser's got the tee-shirt off now, and goes to town on Ray's
pants. 

"Wanna get somethin' to eat first?" Fraser's penchant for button-down
shirts wears Ray out at times like this. 

"I didn't say I was hungry for food." The gleaming wickedness of Fraser's
smile makes Ray laugh. Yes. Being loved by this man is a good thing. 

They get from the living room to the bedroom with surprising grace given
the fact they're taking off one another's clothes. They fall onto the bed
and Ray is *covered* by Fraser from head-to-toe and he knows no comforter
will *ever* feel this good. For several minutes, he luxuriates in the
sensation of Fraser cradling his cock and cupping his balls, and it almost
distracts him from what he knows he has to do. He arches wildly, catches
Fraser by surprise, rolls them until he is on top. 

Kissing again, they are kissing again and Ray feels drunk with this.
Fraser's touch, taste, scent. The sight of him, the sounds he makes. Oh,
Ray has learned the true beauty of his senses thanks to Fraser and all
five are even more glorious to him now. 

Ray slides down Fraser's body, stops when he reaches the cock. It is thick
and heavy, swollen and beautiful. Delicious, and Ray takes it in his mouth
as far as it can go. It is maddening to him and so very, very good to be
doing this again. He's missed this, missed Fraser and now that he is home,
he knows that what he must do is the right thing, and he knows, from the
way Fraser kissed him that his partner *will* understand. 

Fraser's fingers dance in his hair and Ray hums around the cock in his
mouth in response. This earns a thrust and he hums again. When Fraser
comes, he says Ray's name, over and over, the litany's usual lyrical
quality made more so by the fact of it as an expression of sheer pleasure.


Ray thinks -- for a moment -- that this vocalization of how much joy
Fraser takes in him should be enough to tell him that it *is* right to
proceed. Yet, he understands there are questions that have to be asked and
answered. He moves back up Fraser's body carefully, caresses the pale skin
as he goes, smiles as he thinks of how much more quickly any bruises will
heal after this night. He briefly wonders how long it would take to bring
Ben to another orgasm, stops himself with the realization that that tactic
comes close to being unfair. There must be some choice of Fraser's in
this, however little it may be. 

"I meant to ask how your trip was, but...I got distracted." Fraser's eyes
are dark and shiny, his cheeks the palest pink. He runs his hands down
Ray's sides, then over his ass. Rests them there. 

"Well, I can be distracting, when I want to be." Ray presses a kiss to
Fraser's cheekbone. The other man's skin is so warm and smooth and
Ray...checks himself, brings himself back under control. //Not yet.
Soon.// 

"So. How *was* your trip?" 

"Pretty cool. The jury took 45 minutes to convict and 30 minutes to impose
multiple, maximum life sentences with *no* possibility for parole." Ray
traces the line of Fraser's eyebrow with his thumb. 

"The good guys score a resounding victory. Excellent work, Ray." 

"I was just a small part of it, Frase." 

"You'll never be a *small* part of anything, Ray." Fraser smiles as he
says this, and Ray feels it to the very soles of his feet. He smiles back.
When he speaks his voice is as soft and gentle as he has ever heard it. 

"Ben?" 

"Yes?" 

"Do you love me?" 

There is not even a hint of hesitation. "Yes." 

"And you know I love you, right?" 

Same rock-solid certainty. "Yes." A slight lift of one dark, perfect brow.
"Is everything all right, Ray?" 

"Everything's great Fraser. I just...I just wanted to hear it and I wanted
to remind you." 

"Well, I do. I love you very much. I'll love you for the rest of my life."
More certain than certain, and Ray knows it is truth, pure and
unadulterated. 

*That's* why you do it, Ray tells himself. Not for...fun. Not because you
think someone's...beautiful. For love. Only for that, and nothing less. 

Ray remembers everything he was taught, has gone over it in his head
hundreds of times since being told the rules. How it works, how it goes.
At least he was given that much, and he is thankful for it. Fraser will
have lots of questions, and he must be able to answer them all. There is
only one thing left to do. Two things, actually. Later, they will sort
everything else out. Like they always have. 

"Close your eyes, Ben." 

Unquestioning obedience. They have taught each other this in their time
together, and Ray is grateful they've both learned so well. Gently, he
kisses one, then the other of Fraser's eyelids, moves down to his neck,
stops at the spot where he feels the rhythm of Fraser's pulse. He slides
one hand under Fraser and into the small of his back. With the other, he
cups Ben's head, inhales deeply, once. Then, he opens his mouth, presses
newly sharper incisors to the flesh. 

And bites. 

Rich, thick, and tasting both bitter and salty, Fraser's blood flows into
Ray's mouth. He can *hear* Fraser's pulse, *feel* the pounding of the
other man's heart as the liquid covers his lips, teeth and tongue. He's in
that alley again and an accented voice that seems even...cooler now echoes
in his mind. 

/'Til the heart beats as slow as it can, then stop. You've gotta stop
before the heart does. Otherwise, it's just another great *meal*./ 

Strong, Fraser is *so* strong and his heart actually speeds up at first.
He bucks against Ray, unleashes a sound halfway between growl and cry. For
Ray, it is better than any drug, sweeter than that gin would *ever* be and
he is *reeling* from it, his cock aching to the point of pain. That voice,
again. 

/You'll know when it's time to stop. It'll feel like there's only one beat
every...minute. It's kind of cool actually, like everything's in
sloooooooow motion./ 

When Fraser stops thrashing beneath him and it does feel as though there
is too long a time between beats, Ray lets go. He lifts his head and looks
into Fraser's eyes. Unblinking and the pupils are so large the eyes seem
black, rimmed with the barest hint of blue. Ray takes another breath. The
harder part is now upon him and he knows it will kill him if Fraser
refuses to take what he has to give. 

"Ben?" He brings his other hand up to cradle Fraser's face, turns the
other man's head slightly. "Listen to me, Ben. *You* have to drink now.
From *me.* Do you understand?" 

Fraser blinks once, then again, before slowly nodding his head. Yes. He
understands. This does not surprise Ray. If there is anyone who *would* be
non-plussed by at least the *reality* of what Ray encountered and what he
has become, it's Fraser. But there is one more question that must be asked
and answered before he can finish this. 

"Ben, do you *want* to drink?" 

In the silence that hangs at the end of that question, Ray flashes on
moments from their time together. A hug meant only as subterfuge that
ended up mattering more than either of them anticipated. A dream-catcher
soaring through the air; it was not meant to fly, but it does anyway.
Underwater, Fraser coming back to him, feeding him air and life. Fraser,
gorgeous in Huey's tux, leaning across Ray's desk for a kiss in collection
of a debt. Fraser's steady hand on his neck and shoulder as he wept for
Beth Botrelle's eight lost years. 

He will die. Ray knows that he will die if Fraser says 'no.' There is no
way he can continue to be what he has become if he has to do it without
Fraser by his side. But he will not push. Will not plead. He will wait for
Fraser's answer, as he knows Fraser would wait for his. 

After a time that feels as though the whole night has passed, Fraser looks
him in the eyes and nods his head again. Yes. 

Relief and joy shoot through Ray and for several seconds, he can't
remember how he's supposed to do this. Oh, yes. 

/Probably the smartest way to go is to bite your own wrist. It's not the
most romantic, mind you, but it's easier to pull away if you're turning
someone strong./ 

And so Ray does. Opens the vein and offers it to Fraser, watches avidly as
Fraser...feeds. He can see, Ray can actually *see* the changes as Ben
drinks. The skin becomes -- remarkably -- smoother, practically unlined.
Fraser's eyes are bright and glittery, deeply and impossibly *bluer* than
they were, and in spite of himself, and with not a little effort, Ray
pulls away. 

The blood on Fraser's lips is tempting to Ray, but before he can taste
himself, Ben's tongue flicks out, cleans the rest away. Again, there is an
almost disquieting silence in the room, and Ray wonders, suddenly, madly,
if he hasn't been a terrible fool. He hears that voice again, the one that
guided him through this, but it sounds harsher now, and he is surprised he
took such comfort in it before. 

/Too bad you can't stick around. We would have had *great* fun, you and
me./ 

He remembers lying in that alley as his pretty, bleached-blond, grim-faced
'benefactor' starts walking away from him, and it scares Ray to think that
Fraser might feel any of the same stirrings of vague resentment he did. 

/If you're ever in L.A. again, look me up. The name's Spike./ 

He is pulled out of that alley by the sound of Fraser saying his name. He
has trouble meeting those bluer-than-blue eyes. 

"What have you...done, Ray?" Astonishingly, it is not accusatory. Curious,
yes. Perhaps even...scared. 

There is much to explain, Ray knows, but at the moment, he can only think
to answer with *why* it was done. "Something so we can be together
forever." 

He forces himself to look at Fraser then, and what he sees on the other
man's face tells him that yes, even for this, there will be forgiveness. 

END