For Luck (Benny)
by Linda

"Hey, Fraise," Francesca called across the crowded squad room. Fraser stopped in mid-step and spun to face the advancing woman.

Frannie pulled up directly in front of the Mountie and began fingering a brass button as she began talking. "I was just wondering, you know, Frasier, that is, if you're not busy tonight..."

Fraser mentally pushed the mute button in his brain and Frannie's voice faded out. He could tell she was still talking because her lips were moving but his ears, and most of his other bodily functions, had ceased to work. He would have liked nothing better at that moment than to physically slide out of his uniform, leaving it standing empty in front of her. But then surely someone would notice a naked Mountie slithering out the squadroom door...

A sharp tug on the button brought him back to the here-and-now and Francesca's voice continuing on. "...and there'll be cake and everyone will...well, I just, you know, thought...with everybody here tied up with this mega-bust and everything, and I saw you leaving, and I thought maybe if you were free tonight..."

Fraser finally found an opening. "Um.." He gently took her hand from the front of his tunic, took a small step back, blinked twice and began again. "Well, yes, Francesca, I mean no...I mean.."

Frannie just stood there smiling as Fraser looked left and right as if planning the quickest means of escape.
He took a small breath, realizing gratefully that his lungs had begun to function again, and let his mouth start working just a fraction of a second before the words formed. "Thank you, Francesca, but...well, yes I am unengaged at the moment, but I had planned on going back to the Consulate, you see, I have to feed Diefenbaker and..."

"Oh, you can bring him, Frasier, that would be wonderful."

Fraser felt his eyes begin to glaze over again. "I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"Oh, Ma and the kids would love to see you both, I mean it's been so long...."

"Your mother?" Fraser's blank look brought Fransesca a step closer.

"Yeah, Fraise, didn't you hear me? It's Ma's birthday today and she wanted me to ask you if you'd come to dinner. Please say yes, she'd be so happy, so what'dya say, huh? For Ma?" Frannie cocked her head, her eyes twinkling.

Fraser felt his heart squeeze into a hard knot in his chest. Ray's house. He hadn't been there socially since...well...in over six months. No, he couldn't go there. Not for dinner. Not to not talk about what they all couldn't talk about, 'who' they all couldn't mention except in innuendoes and hand gestures. He began to feel a little sick. No, he wouldn't go, he'd make an excuse.

He looked down into Frannie's eyes and sighed. "Thank you, Francesca, I'd love to."

At eight o'clock sharp Fraser and Dief strode smartly up the walk to the Vecchio residence. Fraser had dressed in his blue pull-over sweater and jeans. He and the wolf had showered together, of which Fraser had sworn Diefenbaker to silence, and had dried and brushed him to within an inch of his life.

Before reaching the porch Fraser turned to the fluffy wolf beside him. "Now listen," he began. Diefenbaker was pointedly not looking at him. Fraser bent over and took the wolf's muzzle in his hand, turning it toward his face. "Listen to me," he started again slowly. Dief listened. "We are guests in Ray's home tonight. I expect you to behave accordingly." The wolf snorted. "I mean it. If you are offered cake, you may have a piece. One piece." The wolf licked his lips. "And remember, you may not mention...you know...under any circumstances." Dief whined. "We've talked about this, so just remember what you can say and what you can't." Fraser straightened. "Agreed?" Dief barked. "Well alright, then. Here we go."

Diefenbaker lunged ahead. Fraser absently wiped his palms on his jeans, pulled himself a fraction straighter, and climbed the steps to Ray's house.

"Grandma! Frasier's here!," Little Tony called out as he ushered the man and his wolf in the front door. Vecchios, large and small, came from everywhere at once, greeting them in English and Italian, guiding Fraser through the entryway and into the dining room. Dief went straight for the kitchen. Mrs. Vecchio parted the throng and stood before him. She slowly raised her warm hands and placed them on either side of Fraser's face. She smiled, even though the tears in her eyes threatened to fall. "Thank you, Benton, for coming tonight," she said softly. "You are my best present."

Fraser smiled. 'Second best,' he thought to himself. Aloud he said, "Thank you, kindly. And Happy Birthday."

The meal was a pleasant, if raucous, affair. Diefenbaker ate a plate of spaghetti, three rolls, half a salad, and two pieces of cake. When the party moved into the living room for some after-dinner wine, Fraser excused himself to 'refresh' a bit. As he neared the bathroom he steadfastly refused to look in the direction of Ray's bedroom door. 'I will not look. I will NOT go near there,' he told himself as he walked through the upstairs hallway.

The doorknob turned easily in his hand. Fraser closed the door quietly behind him and stood looking slowly around the darkened room. Ray's bed. Ray's closet. Ray's dresser. The bottles of cologne lined up along the back. He breathed deeply and took in the faint aroma of Armani that still lingered. Fraser slowly and silently walked over to the dresser and flicked on the small lamp. The light glittered on the bottles and cast a warm glow on the wooden change-keeper that rested in the center.

Fraser's hand gently raised the lid. Inside, he knew, lay Ray's special treasures. 'My lucky pieces,' he had called them and Fraser was surprised when he saw they were all still there. His fingers softly brushed Ray's sunglasses. They skimmed carefully over a red marble, a Playboy keychain, and the blue rabbit's foot he had found when he was ten. As Fraser reverently fingered through the items, he remembered the warm spring day when Ray had mentioned that he had lost his lucky Indian head penny. "Must've spent it somewhere, Frasier," Ray had said miserably. It was then that the Mountie had reached into his pocket and pulled out the only coin there.

"Would this help?", Fraser offered as he pressed the penny into Ray's palm.

"It's Canadian," Ray observed, holding the penny in the sunlight.

"Yes, Ray," Fraser had replied simply.

They had looked at each other then and laughed.

Fraser fingered through the keeper thoroughly but the penny wasn't there. He closed the lid gently and looked around the room once again. Ray's book was on the nightstand, the bookmark still in place. His clothes were still hanging in the closet inside the half-opened door. His cologne. His crucifix on his mother's neck downstairs.

Fraser turned and looked in the mirror. He smiled. Then he turned off the lamp, walked quietly out of the room, and closed the door.

End