Anything For You
by nona

Ray Vecchio turned over in bed again and as a thin ray of sunlight brightened his face, he groaned softly and yanked the covers up over his head. Outside, a familiar barking and then a knock on the door made him sit up.

That sounds like Dief, he thought, climbing out of bed and stepping into his slippers. But, what was he doing there at the house? Was Fraser with him too?

Ray shrugged on his robe and padded down the steps and walked across the front room. Opening the door, he gaped at the pair standing there and then the man started speaking.

“Ray,” he smiled as the cop opened the door.

Ray Vecchio blinked again at him in the early morning sun.

“I thought I said I was coming to pick you up?" Ray finally said, coherency returning to him in waves. "In two hours!”

“I’m sorry Ray,” Fraser said. “Diefenbaker and I just started walking this morning… as… uh, as we usually do and before I realized it, we were in your neighborhood. So I decided to save you the trip.”

Ray blinked again unable to compute whatever excuse the Mountie was giving him at such an early hour.

“Never mind. C’mon in Fraser,” he said shuffling back from the open door to let the neatly dressed Mountie into his home.

They were just going to grab some breakfast as a local pancake house and the word for the day was casual. But Fraser showed dressed in starched dark blue jeans, blindingly white t-shirt beneath a hard-ironed long sleeved blue shirt and brown leather jacket. He looked beautiful, stetson and all. As usual.

“Are you wearing that?” Fraser asked as he closed the door behind him, indicating to the ivory grey pajamas his friend currently sported.

Ray turned around and scratched at his beard rough chin. He grinned at Fraser and stretched languidly. Actually he wouldn’t have been caught dead outside the front door in what he was wearing.

“Sure. You going like that? All spiffy?”

Fraser looked at Ray a moment, trying to decipher whether he was joking or not. Sometimes it was hard to tell if Ray was teasing him. He just wanted to make sure if Ray appreciated the work he put into pressing his clothes, or if doing that was a waste of time.

“I’m kidding Benny,” Ray said, running his hand back and forth over the top of his head, after catching the blank look on the Mountie’s handsome face.

The smile returned, true and bright as moonbeams on a clear night. Ray savored the rare gift of Ben’s smile for a fleeting instant and gave him one in return.

“Hang on,” he said going towards the stairs. “I’ll get ready.”

“Fine…” Ben said a little absently.

Then as if in afterthought called after Ray, “I brought your paper in.”

“Thanks Benny!” Ray shouted from the upper level.

Fraser placed the newspaper that was rolled up and tied up in a plastic bag on the coffee table. He stood looking down at the flowered couch, hands in his pockets.

A shiver caught him off guard and he clenched his fingers against his hip. There was a reason why he got up a half-hour early, put all his weight into pressing his shirt and jeans and even socks and underwear. There was a reason why after washing his hair and showering, he wished he had cologne with which to impress the man he was meeting for breakfast.

When Ray Vecchio came down the second time, he found Fraser still standing beside the couch and staring down at it as if he'd found a new puzzle to solve. He looked up. A smile began to tug at the corner of his lips, but he could see the Mountie shutting it down quickly. Fraser ducked his head and moved towards the door.

“Is this better?” Ray teased, turning in a slow circle so that Fraser could look at him from all angles.

Ben couldn’t stop his eyes from running all over Ray’s slender body. He couldn’t stop them from inspecting how well the loose slacks fell against him and admiring the gleam of the thin gold chair that lay delicately against the tan valley of his throat. He took in a quick breath. He looked away before the cop finished his swivel.

Fraser cleared his throat noisily and reached for the handle of the door, and unceremoniously yanked the wood door open. He had to get outside. Had to get some air before he passed out. The fact that Ray was letting him unabashedly scrutinize his appearance was making him light headed.

“Woah there, Benny,” Ray chuckled, noticing the haste with which the Mountie was departing. “What’s your hurry? You got somewhere to be?”

Fraser, stepping out onto the front porch, still nervously wringing the stiff brim of his stetson in his hands said over his shoulder, “Of course not, Ray. I just… I just thought we should get going. That’s all.”

“Ok, Benny. But you should at least wait for the guy with the keys, huh?”

Sitting in the Riv, Ray let the engine run for a while and then he looked at Fraser.

“Where’s Dief?” he asked. “He’s usually hanging and slobbering over my shoulder by now. I don’t see him.”

Fraser took a glance into the back seat as if he wanted to make sure that he had actually left the animal at the house.

“He’s back at the house.” Fraser rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “He’s not feeling very well. And I didn't want to leave him at the apartment.”

“Oh, sure. He'll probably sleep on the couch.,” Ray answered pulling out from the curb.

Fraser looked at him in surprise, his dark brows raised.

"You don't mind?"

Ray shrugged.

"If he's sick… well, it's ok. I don't mind."

Ben grinned a little to himself. Ray was definitely loosening up.

**

Benton Fraser was feeling comfortable. Even the hard red vinyl seat of the booth in which he sat across from Raymond Vecchio didn’t annoy him. He stretched out his long legs beneath the round table and studied the thick laminated menu.

“So, have you decided, Benny?” he heard Ray ask.

“Actually I have, Ray…”

Ray smiled at him and reached for the fresh carafe of coffee to refill his mug.

“Let me guess, french toast with the two eggs and bacon.”

The Mountie merely nodded and Ray sat back, extremely satisfied that he knew the Mountie so well.

“I think I’ll have the same then.”

He folded the menu and lay it over the one Fraser put down.

“You know Benny, I think this was a good idea. I mean yea. I like this.”

Fraser smiled and his cheeks coloured.

And then he was distracted, before he could reply in kind.

“Ray…” he said rising from the seat.

His eyes were glued to something that was going on outside the thick glass window.

“Fraser!” Ray cried, jumping up to follow the Mountie. “Fraser where are you going!?”

Fraser burst out of the front doors of the pancake house with Ray hot on his heels.

But Fraser was already yelling for the skinny little purse snatcher to stop running and didn’t wait for a second to let his words register before he was thundering up the broken sidewalk and out into the two lane traffic.

“Fraser!!” Ray yelled.

He then realized after what the Mountie was running. The woman standing on the corner was hollering out for someone to catch the thief.

Oh God. I can’t even eat in peace with the man, without him running off to save the world.

But he ran after the Mountie and went around the other side of the street to keep an eye on the escaping thief. Ray rounded the corner of the building and spotted the rail thin boy running directly ahead of him.

“Hey you! Stop POLICE!” he yelled.

The boy turned to toss a glance over his shoulder before he increased his speed.

“Damn it!” he yelled and tried to speed up too.

He was already winded, but he was going to keep going. He was nearly within reaching distance.

And where the hell was the Mountie?

Just then, to his surprise, the boy tripped and went sailing into a muddy alley puddle. Ray ran up to him and drew his gun.

“OK, you. You’re under arrest.”

“Don’t shoot man! Don’t shoot!” he cried flailing the woman’s handbag in the air behind him.

“Put your arms down, clasp your hands behind your head!” Ray ordered.

Moments later, Fraser came trotting up to the two of them.

“Good job, Ray,” he panted.

Ray looked up into the bright blue eyes of the man standing before him and grinned like a kid at Christmas.

“Thanks Fraser!”

Back at the precinct, only moments after they’d gotten the teenager filed away did the phone on Ray Vecchio’s desk begin to ring.

“Vecchio,” he sang happily into the receiver.

Fraser came to stand near him, watching him expression change from happy to curious.

“It’s for you,” he said handing the phone to Fraser.

“Constable Fraser,” he said and listened to the irritated voice on the other end. And then he said, “Yes sir. I will.”

He gave the phone back to Ray.

Fraser guiltily met Ray’s annoyed gaze briefly before looking away.

“I’m sorry Ray,” he said, flinching a little at the words that seemed to be coming from his mouth so frequently lately. “But I…”

“Fraser!” Ray cried. “It’s Sunday. Or don’t you Mounties take the day off?”

“I’m sorry. I know. But duty calls.”

“And you go running…” he muttered when Fraser turned to go.

“Maybe we can have breakfast later,” he said over his shoulder.

“Yeah right,” Ray mumbled, but the Mountie was already out of earshot.

Ray sat there a moment longer and mentally kicked himself. He was going to use that morning "date" to express his hidden feelings for his long time partner. He was going to tell him things he had only told his ex-wife. Now he wasn't too sure that he would ever tell him after what had just happened.

**

Ray Vecchio didn't see the Mountie until the next morning. He did a double take when he pulled up the curb in front of the dilapidated apartment building on West Racine. Standing out front, in the lightly sprinkling snow, with a ginger and white wolf at his feet was someone that he recognized only by face, but not by outfit. In the several years that he’d worked with Benton Fraser, he’d only seen him in street clothes and two types of uniforms. But what he currently sported, was a new one. He was dressed completely in police black with a hip length multi pocketed Thinsulate jacket all terrain boots and plain straight leg uniform pants. At the collar of the jacket he saw the top of a white shirt and black tie. On top of that, he was stetson-less.

Fraser approached the car with what seemed a bit of hesitation. He stood there for a moment, with his hand on the door handle just looking across the top of the car before opening the door, popping back the front seat to let Dief in and then getting in himself.

Ray looked at him, that ready-to-tease half smile already parting his lips.

“Being punished again?” he asked affecting his most innocent tone.

Fraser yanked shut the door and dropped his hands into his lap.

“It would appear so,” he said with a shake of his dark head. “Though I can’t quite figure out what I did wrong?”

“Breathing,” Ray offered.

“Pardon?” Fraser asked tossing an absent glance in the driver’s direction.

“She’s got it out for ya, Benny boy. Just the fact that you’re up walking around and breathing must get to her. I dunno. She’s got it bad for you.”

Ray laughed at his own wit, but Fraser merely looked at him, puzzled. Then it clicked and he shook his head again.

"What happened yesterday? What was so important that you went running?"

Ben sighed, but really didn't answer the question as he said, "I became a Mountie because I wanted to be a police officer, Ray, not a mannequin."

Knowing that it must have been painfully hard for the man to make that admission, Ray merely nodded in commiseration.

"I know, Benny. But, what's up with the uniform?"

The Italian made a gesture towards his seatmate.

“It wasn’t Inspector Thatcher who requested that I wear this. On the contrary, it was she that required me to wear my dress uniform.”

“Well who’s idea was it to make you look like a SWAT* team wannabe?”

(Author’s note: SWAT is an American acronym for Strategic Weapons Attack Team, is a special police force)

“Superintendent Thompson,” Fraser answered as if the name would mean something to the Chicago cop.

It didn’t and Ray shrugged.

“Who’s that?”

“She’s visiting from Ottawa on her bi-yearly inspections. Apparently within the last few months there has been a policy implemented stating that, and I quote ‘dress uniforms are not to be worn outside of occasions as proclaimed by the Queen. Dress uniforms will not become bathetic’. And so forth.”

“What?” Ray asked.

“In other words, Ray,” Fraser sighed, “we can’t wear them everyday or they will become commonplace. They represent a special symbol, so when they are worn, they’ll indicate a significant occasion.”

“Well, that’s good then right? Didn’t you say you didn’t even like that one? Made you look like a stop sign?”

“I didn’t say that, Ray. You said that,” Fraser answered, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a smile.

“But, I… I suppose, Ray,” he continued, tracing the new buckle of the utility belt. He wasn’t going to admit to Ray that the bright red serge and the shiny brown boots made him feel less commonplace than he usually did. It made him feel special.

“Though,” he said in afterthought, “this one is more comfortable.”

Ray nodded.

“I can imagine, you don’t have all those buckles and straps and crap. So there you go. You’ll be hounding down criminals in the mean streets of Chicago with ease in no time.”

“Are you suggesting that I’d done it with some difficulty before?” Fraser asked turning to look at him.

Ray put on the turning signal and sped away from the curb, narrowly cutting off a slow moving taxi.

“Nah, Fraser. I’m just saying that now you look cool.”

“And I didn’t before?”

Ray chuckled a little indulgently.

“Well, before you looked good. But you still looked like a stop sign or something. Now you look…”

Ray caught himself, feeling the pound of his heart in his chest. He had to be careful of what was bound to come out of his mouth, he didn't want to give the game away.

“Now I look what, Ray?” Fraser asked peeking at him.

“Now you look, uh… sleek. And besides, you’ll blend in… well a little more than before.”

“Ah.”

Ray rolled his eyes. That monosyllabic catch phrase that could mean the world and a day of arguments. But he was in a good mood, so he let the little utterance slide. He glanced at Fraser and to his surprise, could see a tiny smile lengthening his lips to accompany the pleased expression that currently brightened his features.

“You look good,” Ray concluded, hoping his compliments would broaden that smile.

Ray looked at him, fancying that he saw the Mountie blushing, and he smiled.

Ray Vecchio slowed the sleek emerald Riv and pulled up to the curb about a block and a half away from the front doors of the normally peaceful and quiet Consulate building. He turned to Fraser who was staring out through the windshield in disbelief

“So you know what’s going on?” Ray asked, indicating to the throng of protestors that had collected on the sidewalk and the street in front of the consulate.

Some of the people held handmade signs on poles, while others just marched about bobbing over their heads, pieces of cardboard with messages written on them. Fraser cleared his throat uneasily and without looking at Ray, or answering him, he reached for the handle of the door.

“Fraser,” Ray said, reaching out a hand to stop him. “What’s going on out there?”

Fraser sighed and leaned back into the seat again.

“I was afraid this was going to happen,” he said softly, shaking his head in dismay.

“Afraid what was going to happen?” Ray wanted to know and getting irritated that Ben wouldn’t just come out and tell him what was going on.

“Well, you see Ray,” Ben began, shifting his upper body to face Ray. “There has been some problems as of late. When the…”

“Nothing you’re involved in, right?” he interrupted, trying to feel out the situation and to see which one of his most volatile emotions would be most appropriate.

If Ben were in trouble, Ray would ride the bull and do anything to get him out of it. If he weren't in trouble, then he would kick back and stay cool.

“No, Ray,” Fraser answered with a little smile, noticing Ray’s pinched expression relax at his words. “No. It’s nothing that I’ve done. Only…” he took in a breath, “A few environmental groups are accusing Canada of polluting American waters from their oil ships.”

“Oil again??” Ray heaved a sigh. “Didn’t they learn from the Exxon Valdez?”

Fraser cocked his head.

“That was an American company, and an American tanker, Ray,” he said.

“I know that. It doesn’t matter. I just think that it shouldn’t take a million mistakes for someone to finally learn.”

“That’s true, but this time that’s not the case. You see Ray, Canada and the United States have a complex and extensive relationship. They are partners in the largest bilateral trading relationship in the world. Our two countries also share a common responsibility for the preservation of the environment of the continent. The goals the Canadian government has set for the Canada-USA relationship are mainly for the protection of the environment and the defense of North America.”

“So?”

“So… lately, there have been many incidents of sabotage and although minor, accident on oil and gas tankers. Some companies such as Metro-Canada* and Southern Canada Resources Limited * have come under scrutiny about their delivery habits.”

“So, people are outside the consulate protesting?” Ray asked, puzzled.

“It would seem so.”

“But why? It’s the consulate for God’s sakes. You guys don’t have any power.”

Fraser humphed his disagreement.

“On the contrary, Ray. The consulate is considered Canadian soil, and any strike there is a strike on Canada.”

Ray looked at Fraser for a moment.

“You’d better get out there,” he said firmly.

Fraser met his eyes and then briskly nodded. He got out of the car, and flipped back the front seat to let out the wolf. Diefenbaker ran headlong into the crowd, scattering the protestors with his yelps and barks.

“Dief!” Fraser cried. “No, No!”

He slammed shut the door and quickly tossing a goodbye to Ray, went to retrieve the stubborn overzealous wolf. He eased through the chanting throng, grabbed Dief’s collar, and yanked him towards the steps of the consulate.

“You’re a member of the RCMP?” shouted a voice in his ear.

Fraser looked down at the hand on his arm that accosted him and then looked up into the angry face of the bearded man that spoke to him.

“Yes sir. I am. How may I be of assistance?”

“Get yer dog outta here! Stop using scare tactics to silence us!” yelled a woman coming up fast on his left, with her tattered sign depicting oil covered sea otters beneath a sloppy red “No” symbol. “What are you gonna do next? Turn the firehoses on us?”

Fraser turned towards her, first startled by the memories the picture on the sign dredged up and then by her outrageous accusations.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, Dief’s just a little excited by the…”

“Don’t turn the dogs and hoses on us Mr. MAN!” she yelled, her gloved fists churning the air in front of his face.

Fraser stared at her. She must have been out of her mind. That could be the only reason why she was yelling all that insane stuff. Dief, still in Fraser’s grip pulled towards her, and she backed away quickly.

“You too dog!” she screamed. “You try anything funny, and I’ll have you arrested and put down!”

“Ma’am please,” Fraser tried to reason. “He’s harmless. He won’t do…”

The man, who still had his hand on Fraser’s arm, clenched his fingers tighter and he shook Fraser.

“Do you know what you’re doing to out environment? Do you?”

“Sir, I don’t know what you’re getting at. Honestly, you’re complaining to the wrong place.”

“Your country has declared this building as Canada, right? That’s what you’re so fucking proud of, isn’t it? You want to have this little piece in America. You bastards live in North America and you don’t even consider yourselves Americans! You put down the USA, pollute our waters and snub us at every chance you get. But who do you come to when you need help? Us!”

Fraser looked into the faces that were closing in on him, felt the heat and anger rising in them. He was afraid if one got riled up, then they all would fall into the mob mentality and he may not get out of it alive.

“Dief,” he commanded, not wanting the wolf to get hurt in the melee. “Back!”

With that, Diefenbaker fled the scene, and made himself scarce.

Fraser raised his open hands. “If you all will just take it easy, and calm down we can talk about this is a rational manner.”

Angry voices swelled around him.

“He’s swinging on us!” cried a frantic voice.

Oh dear.

Then he heard the voice of his new inspector, Margaret Thatcher behind them. She, with her lovely commanding voice, calmly informed the crowd to calm down and disperse. Fraser turned around to see a tall blonde Mountie dressed in his reds come out behind her. The blonde Mountie stood shoulder to shoulder with Fraser, but even their imposing figures, black and red and gold did not make the crowd regain their equanimity. When he saw one of the signs on a pole swing at the blonde man’s head, Fraser knew it was all over.

“What? Are you bringing out reinforcements? What? Are you scared we’ll find out something?!”

“Disperse this!” yelled someone else.

Fraser felt the hands grip him and then he saw someone sucker-punch the blonde. The man doubled over, with the breath huffing from his chest. The blonde then threw up his arms to protect himself against the flurry of assaults. Fraser pushed his body in between the protestors and his coworker.

Yep, it was all over.

“Constables!” yelled Thatcher ineffectively, above the excited roar. “Constables! Stop it!”

Ray, who had been leaning casually on the hood of the Riv, and watching the crowd react to the Mounties’s presence, pushed himself into action. He called for backup, ran towards the protestors and pushed his way through sharp elbows, yelling,

“Chicago PD! Chicago PD! You’ re all gonna be under arrest if you don’t back off!”

Then he ducked the punch that a distracted Fraser took squarely on the jaw. The Mountie reeled back into the cushion of people and the ruckus was over as quickly as it had begun. Not because the Mountie was probably going to lose a few teeth, but because the wail of sirens in the background brought into reality what they were going up against. The crowd surged away from the steps of the consulate, but not entirely off the sidewalk.

“That’s right, that’s right!” Ray shouted. “Back off! The cavalry is here.”

A few uniforms trotted up and onto the sideways to handle the crowd. Ray turned to tend to Fraser, who was standing there, looking stunned.

Ray smiled with pride when Fraser, still holding his wounded jaw, finally looked up at him.

“Man,” he said admiringly. “I guess that Canada really made some folks mad, huh?”

Fraser glared at him.

Ray chuckled, sheepishly, glancing over at the blonde Mountie that still stood there, looking pale and winded.

“And damn, Benny, you sure can to take a punch!”

Fraser worked his jaw, grimacing in pain.

“Constable Fraser!” screeched Thatcher’s voice behind him.

He heard her high heels clacking down the stone stairs and stomp to a halt behind him.

Slowly, he turned around.

“Sir,” he managed to get out, while looking for a place to spit out the blood collecting in his mouth.

But judging from the incensed look on the inspector’s face, spitting would have been a bad idea. He swallowed instead.

“What do you think you are doing?!” she demanded.

“Looks like he was defending himself,” Ray interjected.

She glowered at Ray and turned her wrath on Ben.

“And you’re out here brawling like some sort of street…” she searched for the right scalding word. “Hustler!”

Ray snickered in spite of himself and Fraser gave him a desperate look.

“In my office, now, constable. I will not discuss this with you out in the open. Now!”

Fraser hung his head as she clicked away.

“What about Blondie over here!” Ray shouted after her, angry that she would have the gall to trample Fraser’s pride right out in the open, as if it were her main goal in life to humiliate him in the worse way possible.

Moreover, it angered Ray even more to see Fraser just hang his head and take it. He couldn’t count how many times all Fraser did was meekly whisper “yes sir” lower his eyes and take it. He hated it and hated it more that he didn’t have any control in the situation.

“This is none of your discussion detective!” she answered without a backward glance.

Ray put his hand on Ben’s shoulder.

“I can vouch for you, and so can Blondie over there, that you didn’t throw any punches. I saw that guy hit you.”

“It won’t do any good, Ray. But thank you kindly.”

With that he turned and went up the steps of the consulate.

The sunlight streaming in the windows over the inspector’s shoulders hurt his eyes so he kept them fixed on the little glass figurine of a horse on her desk. He hadn’t figured her for a collector of such dainty things and it surprised him.

“Explain to me why you are bruised and bloody, constable?” Thatcher asked, folding her hands hard together on the oak desktop.

Fraser stood with his hands clasped behind his back, unable to think of anything else but his wish for ice to lessen the swelling and pain in his face.

“I’m sorry sir. I was just doing my job. I know that sounds like an excuse, but sir, I…”

“I don’t want to hear anything from you, constable, except the reason why you were out there disgracing the Queen and me in the street.”

Fraser lowered his eyes and abode her fury.

Thatcher glared at him for a long time. If she could tear him apart with just one look she would.

“You are dismissed constable. And you are on suspension without pay.”

Fraser’s head snapped up but he bit back the groan that threatened to escape him. The sudden movement made his head swim and he felt nauseous.

“Sir. I don’t understand. Why?”

Thatcher was surprised to hear Fraser protest. From what she knew of him in the three weeks since they’d met, he seemed spineless and weak. As handsome as he was, she’d thought he was just going to be a good looking rug for her whims.

“Sir. I was only… I don’t think it’s fair, if I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fraser was surprised at himself, at the words coming out of his mouth. And he knew it was the end of his career at the consulate. But he didn’t cringe from the flare of anger in his boss’s face.

“You are dismissed Fraser, until further notice. This is not open for discussion.”

Fraser stood there feeling embarrassed and abraded. Regaining some semblance of himself, he turned on heel and left her office. Ray was waiting for him near Ovitz’s empty desk with a handkerchief full of ice. He took in Fraser’s swollen jaw.

“You are gonna need this,” he said giving it to him.

Taking it, Fraser mumbled his thanks.

“So what happened?” Ray asked following him into his office.

“Inspector Thatcher all but fired me, I guess. I’m on suspension.”

Fraser began collecting his few things and turned around to find Ray gone.

Ray, no!

He knew exactly where he’d gone; he’d gone to make things worse with his quicksilver tongue. His fears were confirmed when he heard Ray’s voice coming from the Inspector’s office. By the time he’d reached the closed door, it swung open, disgorging an irate Ray.

“Ray…” he nearly moaned in despair. “Are you trying to get me completely discharged from the RCMP?”

“Nothing. She’s one cold son of a bitch if I’d ever seen in my life. She would fire me too… if I fucking worked here.”

Fraser stood there, looking dumb and in pain. Ray took pity on him.

“C’mon Benny. I’ll take you home so you can change your clothes then you can stay at my house.”

“Ray,” Ben protested. “You’ll be late for work. I can manage my way home.”

“You can’t manage your way home!” Ray cried. “They tried to mangle you right out in the open back there. Don’t you think you’ll get filleted if they catch you out by yourself? Hang your guts out to dry like… pemmican?”

Ray grinned, pleased with his verbal connection.

“Now Ray,” Fraser said. “That’s just silly. No one’s going to attack me. I’ve got Diefenbaker to…”

Fraser looked around for the wayward wolf and then shook his head when he found him hiding beneath one of the end tables in the room.

Ray followed his eyes to where the wolf sat and shook his head too.

“Yea, you got Dief to sit and hide from them, while you get your ass beaten.”

Fraser sighed and dropped his head.

“All right, Ray,” he said wearily. “All right.”

“Lucky for you, I can take the day off…”

Lucky for you, I would do anything for you, Ray added in his head.

Wordlessly, Ray snagged his arm and pulled him down the carpeted stairs.

“Good,” he said as they made it unmolested out to the car. “I’ll fix you some soup.”

**

Fraser’s apartment was cold when they finally reached it later that night. Ray had sat with Ben for at least three hours on the flowered couch in his house, helping him keep the ice on his bruised jaw and talking to keep him from getting too depressed. He only took him home at Ben’s urging, for it was his plan to keep the Mountie there with him all night. He liked taking care of Ben and wanted more time to do so.

“Geez Fraser,” Ray complained wrapping his coat closed about his chest. “You gotta remember to keep the windows closed when you go out.”

Fraser turned after flipping on the light above the kitchen sink.

“What are you talking about, Ray?” he asked. “Are you cold?”

“Yea,” he intoned as if Fraser had absolutely lost his mind. “Since you keep it like an icebox in here. I know you miss home and all, but damn!”

Fraser chuckled as much as his wounded jaw would allow. He went to the freezer and pulled out a plastic ice tray. He cracked out a few cubes into the plastic baggie which had been happily supplied by Francesca, and wrapped it in a fresh paper towel. Ben leaned against the sink; one arm wrapped around his waist, the other hand pressed the icepack to his cheek. He closed his eyes.

Ray propped himself up against the short dividing wall and watched Ben. His heart began to pound wildly as he thought of all the ways he could say what he wanted to say to him. How much he wanted Ben, wanted to touch and kiss him. Most of all he wanted to tell him how delicious he looked holding the ice against the corner of his mouth. He even looked good, with that purpling bruise spreading like oil along the curve of his jaw. Ray smiled to himself. Fraser looked so vulnerable, slightly slumped over, and cradling his wound. Ray took in a couple of deep breaths, gathered his courage and opened his mouth to let the words flood out. If Ben flipped out, then he would just flip out and that would be that. At least his feelings would be out in the open.

“I liked having you over, tonight, Benny,” he whispered.

“Pardon?” he asked, not opening his eyes and not looking up.

“I mean I like having you around, Benny. I don’t want you to let the Dragon Lady get you down. And I don’t want you letting her walk all over you either.”

“Ray…” he whispered, his voice rough and desperate.

He wasn’t in the mood to be cheered up. He wanted to wallow in his own pitiful self-righteousness.

“Nah, Benny,” Ray went on garrulously. “I’m serious. You’re a good cop. She didn’t have the right to do this to you.”

“Ray…” he said again, sounding abysmally weary. “It’s done. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Ray knew Ben had spoken, but it came out all muffled and mumbled like he had cotton wadded in his cheeks and Ray couldn’t help laughing. He had to think of something that would break him out of the dark cloud.

“You’re laughing at me now?” Fraser asked, sounding a little irritated, still keeping his head down and his eyes closed.

“No, Benny. I’m not.”

Fraser immediately noticed the change in Ray’s voice. He sounded almost seductive. He looked at Ray in the dim kitchen light. Ray’s normally calm green eyes were bright and feverish in that light and it surprised him that Ray looked so strange. Ray had been trying to keep the mood light between them and he was grateful for his attempts. What he really wanted was for Ray to go home and leave him in his misery, although the more convincing part of him wanted Ray to stay.

He wanted to feel Ray’s cold wet slender fingers touching his face again, as he gently applies the ice to his jaw, and tentatively presses his fingertips to his skin to test its puffiness. He wanted Ray to lean near to him again so that he could inhale his spicy cologne and the soft cool scent of his silky black hair. Ben had felt the strong attraction to Ray since they first day they'd met, and having the man fawn over him was almost unbearable.

It almost resulted in physical pain to keep his feelings bottled inside him.

Fraser looked away from him, shifting his hips against the sink in a more comfortable position. He didn’t want to seem like he was ogling Ray. He didn’t want to be anymore embarrassed that he already felt.

Ray watched him and after a short pause, he let the words rush out.

“It’s like finding someone that you think you always knew, somebody you just click with.”

Ray snapped his sweaty fingers for emphasis. Fraser put down the ice pack and stared at him.

“Ray, I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re getting at. Are you saying that you’ve found someone?”

The Mountie smiled a little. If Ray found someone to date, then maybe she would be a worthy distraction. Then maybe he would stop thinking about what it would be like with Ray or, what if with Ray...

However, he did find it strange that he would bring it up now.

He cleared his throat. Well put on a happy face, Fraser, it is for the best, he thought.

“Is she nice?” Fraser asked.

Ray shook his head and clapped his hands to his forehead. Frustrated wasn’t the word he could use to describe him.

“No, no. Jeezus Fraser!”

Ray threw his hands down, trying not to clench his hands into fists. How could he be so out of tune with reality. But then again, this was Fraser he was talking to. The most pure man he’d ever known, a man who wouldn’t know the meaning of a "come on" if it came onto him.

“Ok, let me try again. You know how we’ve been partners for a long time now, right?”

Fraser nodded his encouragement.

“Well… I mean you ever. You um, you ever think about stuff about us?”

Fraser looked squarely at Ray and trying to figure out to what he was referring.

“You mean about the cases we’ve done? Do I think about them?”

“No Fraser. I mean about us, us two.”

How could getting anything out of his mouth be so hard? Didn’t he say that he and Fraser were friends? Shouldn’t you be comfortable enough to tell them anything?

Yea Vecchio, but this isn’t the type of thing you say to a friend. You don't say that you want to throw them down on the bed and fuck them senseless.

“You think about the two of us?” Fraser asked, raising his brows. “Together?”

“Yes!” he shouted, the veins standing out in his forehead and neck as he flung his hands out at his sides in frustration. “Yes. Are you happy now? Yes… there I said it. Now what?”

Fraser stared at him, openmouthed. He was speechless.

“Ray… I…”

He lifted his hands in supplication, palms up, fingers splayed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you…”

Ray cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“See Benny, that’s the thing. You don’t realize. You never realize. Sometimes I don’t understand how you can be so oblivious to stuff going on around you. I’ve been practically throwing myself at you for the last two years…” Ray stopped, having lost his nerve again. But it was too late to stop and he knew that from the look in Fraser’s eyes.

He’d never seen that look before. It was a look of fulfillment and satisfaction and then suddenly the Mountie grinned. He winced suddenly, having stretched the bruised skin.

A small shy smile lit the Chicago cop’s handsome face. The mood between the two friends changed in a flash.

“Don’t you think I knew, Ray?” he asked

“No, Benny,” Ray answered drawing closer to the Mountie. “I didn’t.”

“I knew, Ray,” he said his voice dropping lower. “I just wanted you to be sure it was what you wanted. Are you sure? Do you really want…”

His voice broke off and his cheeks coloured. Ben dropped the pack into the sink and touched his frozen face. He looked away from Ray’s probing eyes.

“Want what, Benny?” Ray teased, putting his fingers beneath the Mountie’s chin, stroking the soft bruised flesh of its underside with his middle finger. “Want you?”

Fraser looked at him again. He swallowed the lump in his throat, tried to press down the throbbing of his nervous heart. Could Ray actually be saying the words he’d wanted him to say for years?

“Yes,” he said finally.

“Yes what?” Ray asked. “I want to hear you say it. Ask me again.”

Fraser gathered his courage.

“Is this what you want, Ray? Do you want me?”

Raymond Vecchio smiled. He never felt so happy in his life. Never felt so desired or so beautiful. Finally he nodded and then was seized by the strangest urge. He immediately went to him, put his arms about Fraser and hugged him. Just the simple act of freely holding him pleased him to no end. Fraser’s arms came about him immediately. He pressed himself against Ray’s lithe body, never having felt so whole and complete in his life.

Even holding Victoria, which at the time brightened his heart, as well as other places on his anatomy, did not compare to how he felt with Ray. He could think about his feelings for her now, now that it was safe. He could entertain the notion that he had actually tried to run away from his feelings for Ray quite literally by running to Victoria. But now it was safe to let go and have what he wanted.

They held each other for a long time, not speaking, oblivious to the outside world around them.

“You know, Benny,” Ray said drawing back and slipping his long fingers into the Mountie’s shirt collar. “I don’t see why we didn’t do this sooner.”

Fraser looked pleased, with his blue eyes lighting brightly and a slow smile parting his lips.

"You're my best friend, Ray," he said after a moment.

"Yea… you told me that before," Ray answered with a smile, before turning his attention elsewhere.

Neither of them spoke for a moment and wanting to savor the moment, but not break the mood between them, Ray moved back.

"Well," Ray sniffed, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. "I better get going. You should get some sleep, right?"

Ben's eyes glittered in the pale kitchen light and he understood Ray's actions. He too, didn't want to push at what was budding between them. He was more than willing to wait.

"Yes, Ray. Thank you again."

"Hey, Benny," Ray said making his way towards the door. "That's what friends are meant for, right? I mean I wouldn't let you go to the dogs if I could stop it."

The Mountie's blue eyes lit with such a grateful light that Ray paused to look at him.

"You knew that, didn't you Benny?" he asked.

"Yes, Ray. I do know that. And do you know that I… I would do the same for you?"

Ray grinned and shrugged on his coat.

"Yea."

Ray gave him another smile, trying to keep the look on his face encouraging, but neutral. The Mountie didn't take the bait.

"Good night, Ray," he said.

"Um… night Benny."

Ray made himself leave the apartment, and he closed the door quietly behind him.

He walked down the short hallway and had turned the corner to plod down the stairs when he heard a door open and a few rapid steps approach him. He stopped and looked back.

"Ray?"

Fraser rounded the corner with such speed that Ray almost could hear the screeching of his heels on the worn boards as he came to a halt. He had obvious had thought that the cop was already some distance away.

"What?" Ray asked turning on the stairs to look up at him.

"I… Would… well… I mean you probably want to go home right--"

"What?" Ray asked again, breaking in on his babbling words.

"Coffee. Would you like some coffee?"

Ray nearly laughed.

He had figured out after his years of knowing the Mountie that an offer for coffee was Fraser-code for wanting him to stay a little while longer.

"Sure. I could stay for a cup."

Ben smiled with relief that Ray had accepted. He nodded briefly and stepped aside as Ray ascended the steps and walked passed him, going back to the very apartment he hadn't wanted to leave in the first place. Ray then turned again and stopped the Mountie. He forced himself to meet his eyes as he gathered his courage to speak his mind finally.

"But your place is an icebox, and you just took a punch to the head. Why not just come back home with me. I can put you up for the night."

"Ray," Ben shook his head. "I've been in … fights before, where I've been struck in the face. I'll be fine and it's not necessary."

"Why do you always have to put up a fight? Somebody's trying to do something nice for you. I'm trying to do something nice for you."

"You're always doing something nice for me, Ray. And I keep taking. I never give you anything in return. I don't want to intrude."

Ray huffed out a breath and rubbed his nose.

"Intrude? How many times do we have to go through that!"

Ben looked down and tried not to let the smile escape.

"Do you want to come or not?"

"I-- let me get Diefenbaker."

Ray sighed.

"Fine… good! Man! You're such a pain in the ass."

Ben laughed at that.

"But you still love me?"

"Yea, yea yea," Ray answered and trotted down the building's steps.