all hell's cubically contained
With great thanks to the source of plot bunnies, herein my first writing attempt not for a challenge in over a year. It's Due South, F/K, around 2770 words, PG.
No Regrets
F/K
2773 words
PG
With gratitude to _aerye_, the finest beta a person could have. Without her, I'd be telling, not showing, all over the place.
~*~
The first time Benton Fraser and Ray Kowalski kissed, Fraser called it buddy breathing, Ray didn't care what the hell it was because he wasn't dead, and nothing really changed.
The second time Benton Fraser and Ray Kowalski kissed, Ray called it Even Steven, Fraser called it an ingenious act for which he would ever be grateful, and nothing really changed.
~*~
Ray came to as he was dumped on a concrete floor. He lay there trying to get his bearings.
"Vecchio's still out. Let's get the Mountie tied up," he heard a voice say. It sounded like Richardson "You got the bags?"
Ray heard plastic rustling. "Right here," another voice replied. That would be that dirtbag McLean. "Think we should try to wake the pig so he can watch his partner die?"
Shit. Ray slit his eyes open. They were in a tiny, windowless room, maybe five feet by seven. Fraser was face down about two feet away, McLean straddling Fraser's back to snap a pair of handcuffs on him. No doubt they were Ray's cuffs. It'd been that kind of day.
"Sure, let's wake him. But we haven't got time to wait for this one to bite it before we do Vecchio. We can let him get a look at his immediate future, though, and then we got to get out of here. Pearlman'll be looking for us soon and you know how he gets," Richardson said.
Bingo. Now they had Pearlman, if only they could get out of there alive.
Once Fraser was cuffed, McLean manhandled him so he was sitting against the wall and tied his legs together; Richardson knelt next to him, a clear plastic garbage bag dangling from one hand.
Satisfied Fraser wasn't going to tip over, McLean started to turn to Ray. Ray closed his eyes quickly and braced himself, a plan forming in his head. A moment later, he felt a boot tip nudge hard in his ribs. He didn't have to fake the moan.
"Wakey, wakey, Vecchio. You don't want to be late to die," taunted McLean.
He leaned over Ray, grabbed him under the arms, and heaved him up to sit leaning against the wall. Ray glanced over at Fraser. Richardson was blocking his view, but moved out of the way when he saw Ray open his eyes. "Take a last look at your partner, Vecchio."
Richardson already had the bag over Fraser's head, but he hadn't sealed it yet. Ray could see Fraser's eyes through the clear plastic. There was no panic in them, but there was something like regret, maybe, and possibly affection, too. Ray wished he had the time to figure it out, but there was Richardson blabbing again. Ray tuned back in to hear him say, "Then we'll tie this one around your head, and if they ever find you, you'll be a matched set. That's what you get for putting your nose where it don't belong."
"Didn't you learn anything from last time?" Ray smiled coolly, knowing it would piss off McLean.
That earned him another kick in the ribs. He doubled over, coughing into his hands before McLean pushed him down and pulled his arms back to tie them together. When McLean finished, he propped Ray up again so that he and Fraser were sitting next to each other and fastened the other bag over Ray's head while Richardson bound Ray's legs. Ray pulled in one last deep breath, and tried to see Fraser. The plastic made everything look blurry, but he could tell Fraser was watching through his own bag, so Ray winked. The bag wasn't tight against his face, but it was tight around his neck.
Richardson and McLean were still yakking but Ray wasn't paying any attention to them anymore. Instead he tried to breathe slowly only through his nose and keep his eyes locked on Fraser, who was doing the same.
"See you in hell, boys," McLean tossed over his shoulder, and then door was slamming shut behind them. The instant it closed, Ray started maneuvering the toothpick he'd managed to slip into his mouth when he coughed. It was a matter of seconds until it was sticking out of his mouth. Holding it firmly between his teeth, he gave a little prayer that he could make a hole in the plastic without swallowing the toothpick. Then he inhaled. Damn. The plastic wasn't quite taut enough for the toothpick to break through. He tried again. Still didn't work.
Hyperaware of how each attempt depleted his oxygen supply, Ray went back to shallow breathing to make a plan B. If only he could hold the plastic tight. Maybe if he used the wall. Ray got on his knees, turned to the wall and pressed his face against it. He pinned the plastic between the wall and the toothpick. Hoping against hope that the toothpick wouldn't break, Ray jerked his head backwards. The toothpick skidded a bit up the wall, but he was rewarded with a small tear. Shifting the toothpick slightly each time, he repeated the process until there were enough rips for him to breathe freely.
Turning back to Fraser, Ray said, "Come on, buddy. On your knees so I can get you some air."
They moved until they were facing each other on their knees. Fraser obligingly opened his mouth slightly. Grasping the toothpick securely again, Ray touched his lips to Fraser's to hold the plastic in place, then pierced it repeatedly. He didn't stop until he could feel Fraser's breath on his skin and he could hear Fraser saying his name.
"Ray. Ray. Ray."
Ray moved back.
Fraser grinned and said conversationally, "Hello, Ray. Nice to see you."
"Nice to see you, too," Ray replied.
"And how are you?" inquired Fraser.
"I'm okay for now. I have a knife in my right boot."
"Well, then. I'll retrieve it. If you'd be so kind as to bring me your legs."
Fraser turned around, Ray lay on his back and lifted his feet to Fraser's hands.
"Hold still now." Fraser groped at Ray's ankles until he held Ray's right boot in one hand and gripped the knife in his other. "I've got it."
"So I see."
"I'm going to take it out now."
"Whenever you're ready. But soon would be good."
Fraser carefully slid sideways. As soon as the knife was clear of Ray's boot, he dropped his legs.
Fraser leaned sideways as far as he could to drop the knife on the floor. He twisted around and bent over to grasp the knife in his mouth.
"Wait." Ray said.
"What?"
Ray continued, "I know we're pretty good at the whole non-talking communicating thing, but before you mouth is full of knife, shouldn't we figure out what you're going to do with it?"
Fraser nodded. "Excellent point. If you'll be so kind as to lie on your stomach, once I have the knife, I thought perhaps I would cut the tape that binds your arms. Then you can extricate my hands from the cuffs. I trust you have a key this time."
"Funny guy." Ray rolled his eyes.
"Very well then. I shall proceed."
While Fraser got the knife in his mouth, Ray struggled to his belly. Fraser knelt beside him and eventually cut through the tape, only nicking Ray one time, which Ray figured kept him from embarrassing himself. Ray would bet anyone would be affected by Fraser on his knees with a knife between his teeth. Especially when he suspected that Fraser might feel that way about Ray, too.
Once Ray's arms were released, it took very little time to free Fraser's hands and remove the remains of the bags from their heads and the bindings from around their legs. Although McLean and Richardson had taken Ray's gun, they hadn't bothered to take his cell phone, and of course Fraser knew exactly where they were. By the time they made their way out of the warehouse into the dusk, they could hear the sirens of the black-and-white dispatched to pick them up. They stood side by side waiting for the car.
~*~
It hadn't been long from the time Ray and Fraser escaped until Pearlman, McLean and Richardson were picked up, but it was ages after that until the questioning and paperwork were completed, bringing the number of hours Ray and Fraser had worked without break to forty-one.
As they got into Ray's car, Ray insisted that Fraser crash on Ray's couch. "If you go back to the Consulate now, you're going to get approximately three hours of sleep before the Ice Queen sends you off to get her dry cleaning. If you sleep on my couch, I can guarantee at least twelve hours of peace. I'm shutting off my phone and my cell. Dief has been fine with Turnbull so far; he'll be fine for another day. C'mon. You know you want to."
Fraser rubbed his eyebrow, "I'm sure Inspector Thatcher will allow me to defer my duties for the day once I report the details of the case."
"Exactly my point. You're going to have to wake up to talk to her, and then Turnbull's going to be trying so hard not to wake you that it'll be louder than a bowling alley in there. Call and leave the Ice Queen a message." He handed Fraser his phone and put the car in gear.
When they arrived at Ray's, Ray insisted Fraser use the bathroom first. By the time he finished, Ray had the couch made up. Ray got himself ready for bed and then went to make sure Fraser had everything he needed.
Fraser was sitting on the edge of the couch stretching his back. He had changed into the spare sweats he kept at Ray's for the times he stayed over.
"You good?" Ray asked.
"I am. Thank you for the use of your couch."
An image flashed through Ray's mind, Fraser lying back on the couch, aroused and panting, Ray sliding his tongue down Fraser's neck. Ray gave himself a mental shake and answered Fraser. "Anytime." Ray sat down next to Fraser, not quite wound down enough to sleep. Knowing Fraser the way Ray did, Fraser wasn't ready to sleep yet either. "So, I think we can add today to the list of wildly bizarre ways to endanger our lives."
"Indeed, although since this was your case, I fail to see how you can possibly blame any of this-"
"Not blaming, just commenting," Ray interrupted.
"Oh. Ray?"
"Yes?"
Fraser cracked his neck. "Your use of the toothpick to save us was an ingenious act for which I will ever be grateful."
Ray bumped his shoulder into Fraser's. He was pretty sure his ears were getting red. "Understood. And now we're Even Steven."
Fraser smiled.
"What were you thinking about, when they put the bag over your head?" Ray asked suddenly.
"Pardon?"
"I don't mean to pry or nothing, but I was watching you then. You didn't look scared. Just kind of...I don't know, regretful or something."
Fraser looked away. "I imagine regret is a common feeling when one is facing death."
"I imagine it is," Ray said, just as quietly. "But that's not an answer, that's a deflection. Not that you have to answer, I'm just a Nosy Parker tonight. Must be the lack of sleep." He slumped back against the couch and let loose a yawn.
Fraser was quiet for another moment, then started speaking softly. "You're right. It is a deflection. You're also right that I was feeling regret. Each time we find ourselves in what you call a wildly bizarre situation, and death seems an imminent possibility, I have the same regrets. And grateful as I am each time that we don't die, I never seem to change the way I lead my life so that the next time, perhaps my regrets will be fewer."
Ray wanted to reach out and touch him, pat his arm or something, but Fraser suddenly seemed very vulnerable, like he might flinch at the touch of Ray's hand. "Um, okay. So you know how you want your life to be different, but you don't actually do anything to make it how you want it?"
Fraser nodded, and gave a brief, wry smile. "Exactly."
"Well, we all have regrets, Fraser," Ray sighed.
Fraser leaned back next to Ray. "What is it you regret?"
"You know. The usual. How my relationship with my parents was so bad for so long. That Stella and I couldn't make it work. That I never had kids, although that one's feeling less bad the older I get." Not telling you how I feel. "That I'm going to die alone. Same old shit for me. Pretty predictable, huh?" Ray glanced at Fraser. "Lately, though, I seem destined to die with you, so that's something, right?"
Fraser tipped his head back, looking at the ceiling. "It is, and no small thing, at that." He paused. "I have similar regrets. And fears. Never living in Canada again, not moving out of the Consulate." He paused. "Never finding someone to love."
Ray ran a hand through his hair. It hurt to hear Fraser talk like that about love. "I don't know about the rest of it, but I'm more than willing to help you find an apartment. As for love - hell I'm the last guy to give advice on that one. Stella left me with scars you can't see, but they're there, even if they're healed over."
"So you think they're healed?"
Ray closed his eyes so he could think better. "Not healed, because they're not gone, but healed over. They're still there, like a reminder when you move the wrong way and you get that twinge, but most of the time you kind of forget they're there at all. You know?" He opened his eyes again. Fraser was looking right at him.
"But isn't it cowardly not to pursue love out of fear of getting hurt again?"
"Maybe, or maybe it's just common sense. Fraser, you're not a coward. Overly cautious, maybe, but I'm hardly one to talk."
"You put yourself out there and ask people out, at least."
"Yeah, but not anyone I expect to say yes, and for sure not the one I want to say yes." Not you.
"Ah." Fraser looked away again.
"Ah, what?"
"So there is a woman you'd like to date?"
It was a logical mistake for Fraser to make. Fraser didn't even know Ray had a Door Number Two. "Yep, there's someone, but it ain't going to happen. So dot it, file it, blah, blah, blah."
"Stella?" Fraser ventured.
Ray let out an exaggerated sigh. "No, not Stella. Did I not just explain one minute ago that whole healed over thing?"
"You did. I just wanted to make sure."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Ray was in the process of convincing himself it was worth the energy it would take to get his sorry ass to bed when Fraser started speaking again.
"Lately, every time we find ourselves in danger, I make certain promises to myself that I have yet to keep. After today, I think perhaps the time has come to cease being cowardly-" at Ray's snort he conceded, " - fine, overly cautious."
Fraser took a deep breath. Ray could see it go all the way down to Fraser's diaphragm. "Ray, I value our friendship above all the other relationships I have now, as well as those I have had in the past. Because I value it as I do, I must be honest with you and trust that we'll be good, as you say, in light of the truth that I can no longer in good conscience keep from you."
Ray felt his heartbeat quicken. He watched Fraser take another deep breath.
"I fear my feelings for you have…deepened in a way that is no longer partners in the law enforcement sense of the word, and have become rather more like partners in the…" Here Fraser floundered.
"Gay sense of the word?" Ray offered, barely containing a grin.
"Yes," Fraser said. He turned to Ray, looking suddenly very determined. "Yes, Ray."
Ray couldn't stop the grin this time, or the laugh, and slung his arm around Fraser. "I love you, too, you freak. I'm damn lucky you're brave enough for the both of us, because I probably never would have said anything, and that would just suck."
~*~
The third time Benton Fraser and Ray Kowalski kissed, neither could spare the brain power to call it anything at all, and everything changed at last.
No Regrets
F/K
2773 words
PG
With gratitude to _aerye_, the finest beta a person could have. Without her, I'd be telling, not showing, all over the place.
~*~
The first time Benton Fraser and Ray Kowalski kissed, Fraser called it buddy breathing, Ray didn't care what the hell it was because he wasn't dead, and nothing really changed.
The second time Benton Fraser and Ray Kowalski kissed, Ray called it Even Steven, Fraser called it an ingenious act for which he would ever be grateful, and nothing really changed.
~*~
Ray came to as he was dumped on a concrete floor. He lay there trying to get his bearings.
"Vecchio's still out. Let's get the Mountie tied up," he heard a voice say. It sounded like Richardson "You got the bags?"
Ray heard plastic rustling. "Right here," another voice replied. That would be that dirtbag McLean. "Think we should try to wake the pig so he can watch his partner die?"
Shit. Ray slit his eyes open. They were in a tiny, windowless room, maybe five feet by seven. Fraser was face down about two feet away, McLean straddling Fraser's back to snap a pair of handcuffs on him. No doubt they were Ray's cuffs. It'd been that kind of day.
"Sure, let's wake him. But we haven't got time to wait for this one to bite it before we do Vecchio. We can let him get a look at his immediate future, though, and then we got to get out of here. Pearlman'll be looking for us soon and you know how he gets," Richardson said.
Bingo. Now they had Pearlman, if only they could get out of there alive.
Once Fraser was cuffed, McLean manhandled him so he was sitting against the wall and tied his legs together; Richardson knelt next to him, a clear plastic garbage bag dangling from one hand.
Satisfied Fraser wasn't going to tip over, McLean started to turn to Ray. Ray closed his eyes quickly and braced himself, a plan forming in his head. A moment later, he felt a boot tip nudge hard in his ribs. He didn't have to fake the moan.
"Wakey, wakey, Vecchio. You don't want to be late to die," taunted McLean.
He leaned over Ray, grabbed him under the arms, and heaved him up to sit leaning against the wall. Ray glanced over at Fraser. Richardson was blocking his view, but moved out of the way when he saw Ray open his eyes. "Take a last look at your partner, Vecchio."
Richardson already had the bag over Fraser's head, but he hadn't sealed it yet. Ray could see Fraser's eyes through the clear plastic. There was no panic in them, but there was something like regret, maybe, and possibly affection, too. Ray wished he had the time to figure it out, but there was Richardson blabbing again. Ray tuned back in to hear him say, "Then we'll tie this one around your head, and if they ever find you, you'll be a matched set. That's what you get for putting your nose where it don't belong."
"Didn't you learn anything from last time?" Ray smiled coolly, knowing it would piss off McLean.
That earned him another kick in the ribs. He doubled over, coughing into his hands before McLean pushed him down and pulled his arms back to tie them together. When McLean finished, he propped Ray up again so that he and Fraser were sitting next to each other and fastened the other bag over Ray's head while Richardson bound Ray's legs. Ray pulled in one last deep breath, and tried to see Fraser. The plastic made everything look blurry, but he could tell Fraser was watching through his own bag, so Ray winked. The bag wasn't tight against his face, but it was tight around his neck.
Richardson and McLean were still yakking but Ray wasn't paying any attention to them anymore. Instead he tried to breathe slowly only through his nose and keep his eyes locked on Fraser, who was doing the same.
"See you in hell, boys," McLean tossed over his shoulder, and then door was slamming shut behind them. The instant it closed, Ray started maneuvering the toothpick he'd managed to slip into his mouth when he coughed. It was a matter of seconds until it was sticking out of his mouth. Holding it firmly between his teeth, he gave a little prayer that he could make a hole in the plastic without swallowing the toothpick. Then he inhaled. Damn. The plastic wasn't quite taut enough for the toothpick to break through. He tried again. Still didn't work.
Hyperaware of how each attempt depleted his oxygen supply, Ray went back to shallow breathing to make a plan B. If only he could hold the plastic tight. Maybe if he used the wall. Ray got on his knees, turned to the wall and pressed his face against it. He pinned the plastic between the wall and the toothpick. Hoping against hope that the toothpick wouldn't break, Ray jerked his head backwards. The toothpick skidded a bit up the wall, but he was rewarded with a small tear. Shifting the toothpick slightly each time, he repeated the process until there were enough rips for him to breathe freely.
Turning back to Fraser, Ray said, "Come on, buddy. On your knees so I can get you some air."
They moved until they were facing each other on their knees. Fraser obligingly opened his mouth slightly. Grasping the toothpick securely again, Ray touched his lips to Fraser's to hold the plastic in place, then pierced it repeatedly. He didn't stop until he could feel Fraser's breath on his skin and he could hear Fraser saying his name.
"Ray. Ray. Ray."
Ray moved back.
Fraser grinned and said conversationally, "Hello, Ray. Nice to see you."
"Nice to see you, too," Ray replied.
"And how are you?" inquired Fraser.
"I'm okay for now. I have a knife in my right boot."
"Well, then. I'll retrieve it. If you'd be so kind as to bring me your legs."
Fraser turned around, Ray lay on his back and lifted his feet to Fraser's hands.
"Hold still now." Fraser groped at Ray's ankles until he held Ray's right boot in one hand and gripped the knife in his other. "I've got it."
"So I see."
"I'm going to take it out now."
"Whenever you're ready. But soon would be good."
Fraser carefully slid sideways. As soon as the knife was clear of Ray's boot, he dropped his legs.
Fraser leaned sideways as far as he could to drop the knife on the floor. He twisted around and bent over to grasp the knife in his mouth.
"Wait." Ray said.
"What?"
Ray continued, "I know we're pretty good at the whole non-talking communicating thing, but before you mouth is full of knife, shouldn't we figure out what you're going to do with it?"
Fraser nodded. "Excellent point. If you'll be so kind as to lie on your stomach, once I have the knife, I thought perhaps I would cut the tape that binds your arms. Then you can extricate my hands from the cuffs. I trust you have a key this time."
"Funny guy." Ray rolled his eyes.
"Very well then. I shall proceed."
While Fraser got the knife in his mouth, Ray struggled to his belly. Fraser knelt beside him and eventually cut through the tape, only nicking Ray one time, which Ray figured kept him from embarrassing himself. Ray would bet anyone would be affected by Fraser on his knees with a knife between his teeth. Especially when he suspected that Fraser might feel that way about Ray, too.
Once Ray's arms were released, it took very little time to free Fraser's hands and remove the remains of the bags from their heads and the bindings from around their legs. Although McLean and Richardson had taken Ray's gun, they hadn't bothered to take his cell phone, and of course Fraser knew exactly where they were. By the time they made their way out of the warehouse into the dusk, they could hear the sirens of the black-and-white dispatched to pick them up. They stood side by side waiting for the car.
~*~
It hadn't been long from the time Ray and Fraser escaped until Pearlman, McLean and Richardson were picked up, but it was ages after that until the questioning and paperwork were completed, bringing the number of hours Ray and Fraser had worked without break to forty-one.
As they got into Ray's car, Ray insisted that Fraser crash on Ray's couch. "If you go back to the Consulate now, you're going to get approximately three hours of sleep before the Ice Queen sends you off to get her dry cleaning. If you sleep on my couch, I can guarantee at least twelve hours of peace. I'm shutting off my phone and my cell. Dief has been fine with Turnbull so far; he'll be fine for another day. C'mon. You know you want to."
Fraser rubbed his eyebrow, "I'm sure Inspector Thatcher will allow me to defer my duties for the day once I report the details of the case."
"Exactly my point. You're going to have to wake up to talk to her, and then Turnbull's going to be trying so hard not to wake you that it'll be louder than a bowling alley in there. Call and leave the Ice Queen a message." He handed Fraser his phone and put the car in gear.
When they arrived at Ray's, Ray insisted Fraser use the bathroom first. By the time he finished, Ray had the couch made up. Ray got himself ready for bed and then went to make sure Fraser had everything he needed.
Fraser was sitting on the edge of the couch stretching his back. He had changed into the spare sweats he kept at Ray's for the times he stayed over.
"You good?" Ray asked.
"I am. Thank you for the use of your couch."
An image flashed through Ray's mind, Fraser lying back on the couch, aroused and panting, Ray sliding his tongue down Fraser's neck. Ray gave himself a mental shake and answered Fraser. "Anytime." Ray sat down next to Fraser, not quite wound down enough to sleep. Knowing Fraser the way Ray did, Fraser wasn't ready to sleep yet either. "So, I think we can add today to the list of wildly bizarre ways to endanger our lives."
"Indeed, although since this was your case, I fail to see how you can possibly blame any of this-"
"Not blaming, just commenting," Ray interrupted.
"Oh. Ray?"
"Yes?"
Fraser cracked his neck. "Your use of the toothpick to save us was an ingenious act for which I will ever be grateful."
Ray bumped his shoulder into Fraser's. He was pretty sure his ears were getting red. "Understood. And now we're Even Steven."
Fraser smiled.
"What were you thinking about, when they put the bag over your head?" Ray asked suddenly.
"Pardon?"
"I don't mean to pry or nothing, but I was watching you then. You didn't look scared. Just kind of...I don't know, regretful or something."
Fraser looked away. "I imagine regret is a common feeling when one is facing death."
"I imagine it is," Ray said, just as quietly. "But that's not an answer, that's a deflection. Not that you have to answer, I'm just a Nosy Parker tonight. Must be the lack of sleep." He slumped back against the couch and let loose a yawn.
Fraser was quiet for another moment, then started speaking softly. "You're right. It is a deflection. You're also right that I was feeling regret. Each time we find ourselves in what you call a wildly bizarre situation, and death seems an imminent possibility, I have the same regrets. And grateful as I am each time that we don't die, I never seem to change the way I lead my life so that the next time, perhaps my regrets will be fewer."
Ray wanted to reach out and touch him, pat his arm or something, but Fraser suddenly seemed very vulnerable, like he might flinch at the touch of Ray's hand. "Um, okay. So you know how you want your life to be different, but you don't actually do anything to make it how you want it?"
Fraser nodded, and gave a brief, wry smile. "Exactly."
"Well, we all have regrets, Fraser," Ray sighed.
Fraser leaned back next to Ray. "What is it you regret?"
"You know. The usual. How my relationship with my parents was so bad for so long. That Stella and I couldn't make it work. That I never had kids, although that one's feeling less bad the older I get." Not telling you how I feel. "That I'm going to die alone. Same old shit for me. Pretty predictable, huh?" Ray glanced at Fraser. "Lately, though, I seem destined to die with you, so that's something, right?"
Fraser tipped his head back, looking at the ceiling. "It is, and no small thing, at that." He paused. "I have similar regrets. And fears. Never living in Canada again, not moving out of the Consulate." He paused. "Never finding someone to love."
Ray ran a hand through his hair. It hurt to hear Fraser talk like that about love. "I don't know about the rest of it, but I'm more than willing to help you find an apartment. As for love - hell I'm the last guy to give advice on that one. Stella left me with scars you can't see, but they're there, even if they're healed over."
"So you think they're healed?"
Ray closed his eyes so he could think better. "Not healed, because they're not gone, but healed over. They're still there, like a reminder when you move the wrong way and you get that twinge, but most of the time you kind of forget they're there at all. You know?" He opened his eyes again. Fraser was looking right at him.
"But isn't it cowardly not to pursue love out of fear of getting hurt again?"
"Maybe, or maybe it's just common sense. Fraser, you're not a coward. Overly cautious, maybe, but I'm hardly one to talk."
"You put yourself out there and ask people out, at least."
"Yeah, but not anyone I expect to say yes, and for sure not the one I want to say yes." Not you.
"Ah." Fraser looked away again.
"Ah, what?"
"So there is a woman you'd like to date?"
It was a logical mistake for Fraser to make. Fraser didn't even know Ray had a Door Number Two. "Yep, there's someone, but it ain't going to happen. So dot it, file it, blah, blah, blah."
"Stella?" Fraser ventured.
Ray let out an exaggerated sigh. "No, not Stella. Did I not just explain one minute ago that whole healed over thing?"
"You did. I just wanted to make sure."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Ray was in the process of convincing himself it was worth the energy it would take to get his sorry ass to bed when Fraser started speaking again.
"Lately, every time we find ourselves in danger, I make certain promises to myself that I have yet to keep. After today, I think perhaps the time has come to cease being cowardly-" at Ray's snort he conceded, " - fine, overly cautious."
Fraser took a deep breath. Ray could see it go all the way down to Fraser's diaphragm. "Ray, I value our friendship above all the other relationships I have now, as well as those I have had in the past. Because I value it as I do, I must be honest with you and trust that we'll be good, as you say, in light of the truth that I can no longer in good conscience keep from you."
Ray felt his heartbeat quicken. He watched Fraser take another deep breath.
"I fear my feelings for you have…deepened in a way that is no longer partners in the law enforcement sense of the word, and have become rather more like partners in the…" Here Fraser floundered.
"Gay sense of the word?" Ray offered, barely containing a grin.
"Yes," Fraser said. He turned to Ray, looking suddenly very determined. "Yes, Ray."
Ray couldn't stop the grin this time, or the laugh, and slung his arm around Fraser. "I love you, too, you freak. I'm damn lucky you're brave enough for the both of us, because I probably never would have said anything, and that would just suck."
~*~
The third time Benton Fraser and Ray Kowalski kissed, neither could spare the brain power to call it anything at all, and everything changed at last.