Angels & Mounties (due South/Supernatural) Part 4
Ray took the key out from its hiding place, unlocked the door and poked his head inside the Consulate. "Hey Fraser! You up? Thought I'd just meet you here." It was another hot morning and the sun was still glowing sunrise oranges and reds. Sleep hadn't come too easy last night. He figured it would be better to just get up and get going rather than spend another hour or two lying in bed and thinking about all the things he had spent the night thinking about. Fraser would have worked something out by now. If not, well, they could just say the guy ran off and they hadn't been able to catch him. Since he really hadn't done anything but act like a weirdo, there wasn't much else they could do. It wasn't a great explanation, but it was close enough for government work.
Fraser didn't respond, so Ray walked into the foyer. It was way too early for anyone else to be there. Even Turnbull, who appeared to have even less personal life than Fraser, wasn't in yet. A cabinet door was open in the room just off the hall--the one set aside for entertaining all the important bigwigs that came through town--Ray had never actually seen anyone in that room. He walked over to look in the cabinet. Tumblers stacked shortest to tallest on either side of two rows of liquor bottles which were sorted alphabetically by type. Almost two rows of bottles. There was a bottle missing on the second row, two from the left. Scotch, most likely, since it was after rum, but before tequila. It could be schnapps--that would just be a little too sad, though. Now that he was paying attention, he noticed two glasses missing, too. Someone had broken into the private supply. Two someones to be more specific. Yeah well, who could blame them? Stuck being Canadian all the time. All that discipline and order probably got stressful. A drink would come in handy. He chuckled. Fraser drunk...That'd be a real trip. He'd have to try to make that happen sometime.
He closed the cupboard door and turned towards the stairs. "Hey! Fraser!" He went up a couple of steps, "Dief? Anybody home?" Fraser's door was closed; Ray tapped a tentative knock. When there was no answer he decided to continue with the letting himself in trend he'd set that day. "C'mon! Pitter patter! Up and at 'em and all th--"
What he saw struck him dumb. Fraser, dead asleep on the floor, naked as the day he was born, legs spread out in front of him, his clothes thrown around willy nilly, a t-shirt wadded up under his head for a pillow. The room smelled of spilled scotch and sweat. There was the missing bottle--not even the world's biggest optimist could call it half full--on a table by the fireplace. Shards of broken glass glistened up from the floor. Fraser was lucky he hadn't sliced the hell out of his arm. Dief looked up from the chair where he had slept and whined a hello. "I knew he'd snap one day. I thought you'd at least try to stop him, Dief." The wolf cocked his head to one side, jumped off the chair and left the room. "Hey, that's fine. I don't want your help anyway," he yelled over his shoulder.
Fraser stretched, slapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth and opened his eyes. "Oh, Ray," he said after a glance around the room. Damn if he didn't seem a little disappointed. He looked again, like he was expecting to see someone else, which... well, if it was anyone else... but this was Fraser here and so that couldn't be what he was doing. It just couldn't.
"Don't sound so happy to see me." He turned his head to avoid anymore full frontal Fraser than he'd already seen. "What'd you get up to last night, anyway?"
Fraser found his pants and pulled them on. "It doesn't matter." There was definitely some regret in that tone. Ray knew it well, he just couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of that expression on Fraser's face or that tone coming out of Fraser's mouth. It was like running into Santa at the bar. It was wrong. It made him uncomfortable. He didn't expect it and when he didn't expect things, he got tongue tied.
"Yeah, well..." he paused. "I bet it does." Which was as snappy a retort as he could come up with on short notice.
"I don't want to talk about it, Ray." Fraser pushed Ray aside and went to the closet and pulled out a clean uniform. "I have to get ready for work." He walked out and left Ray standing alone in the middle of the room, with his mouth wide and his head full of questions.
A full twenty-five minutes later Fraser walked downstairs to Ray sitting in a chair in the hall drinking a cup of coffee and reading the paper. "I went out and got some breakfast." He handed Fraser a grease stained white paper bag. "I thought you might need it."
He looked into the bag. "Cheese Danish, an egg sandwich and hash browns. Breakfast of champions."
"Hey, you don't gotta eat it. I just figured, after a night like it looked like you had, you might appreciate a little grease and sugar."
Fraser put a hand on Ray's shoulder and smiled. "Thank you, Ray." He was extra sincere. Even for Fraser, who was pretty damn sincere most of the time, this was extra special sincere. Sincere to the power of weird.
"It's no problem. Just being nice. I'm a nice guy. It's, like, my thing." Fraser's hand was still on his shoulder and he'd moved a little closer. Not like they were usually very big on personal space or anything, but this was a little much at the moment. "Hey, uh," Ray reached up and gently moved the hand off his shoulder. "What do you say let's eat?"
"Excellent idea. I need to feed Diefenbaker as well. I neglected to give him his late meal last night and I'm sure he's famished.
"You forgot to feed the wolf? You're not not telling me about last night. There is no way you're not."
"There were a few too many negatives in that sentence for me to be able to follow it all the way through."
They sat their breakfasts down on the table. Fraser pulled out a scoop of food for Diefenbaker and poured it into his bowl. Dief appeared out of nowhere and scarfed the food down in two bites before taking a spot perfect for the interception of any scraps that might accidentally (or not so accidentally as the case may be) fall from the table during the course of the meal. Ray drank his coffee and watched Fraser pull the food out of the bag and unwrap each piece before he began to eat. Ray was as polite as he could be under the circumstances but, considering how the morning was going down, he only had so much politeness in him.
"You know I won't judge you or anything, right?" Ray said.
"Thank you kindly." Fraser concentrated his attention on his egg sandwich. He didn't look up or speak another word for several minutes. He finished the sandwich, wadded up the sandwich wrapper and moved on to the Danish.
"That's it?" Ray asked. "No. That's not it. Come on, Fraser. Spill it! What the hell happened here last night? I mean, look, I could handle walking in on you all indiscreet like that. It's hot, you figured why bother with PJs, but the rest of it's just a little off and I think you should tell me what's up."
Fraser sat the Danish down, wiped the corner of his mouth with the napkin and looked at Ray. "Telling you would only add to your discomfort. I don't want to do that to you.
"Well, maybe I want it done to me. You ever think about that? Look, we had a really weird day yesterday. If you were some other guy, I'd say, sure, he was stressed out, he had a nip. But not you, Frase. You don't drink. And you don't throw your clothes around and pass out bare ass naked on the floor. It's just not your thing. Me, yeah, it could happen. But you ain’t me. So, you know what? I want to know what happened last night because from where I'm sitting the only thing I can figure out is that my best buddy's gone crazy. I don't like that possibility because you're strange, but you seem to have it together most of the time. If you've gone over the cuckoo’s nest, I'm gonna be upset."
"I'm not sure this is something you want to hear.
Ray leaned forward, "I'm sure."
"What if I'm not?"
"Come on, now. You know what they say, confessions are good for the soul and all that." The look on Fraser's face made Ray catch his breath. He'd didn't think he'd ever seen Fraser look so--so whatever that look was. Angry, shocked, sad, some kind of indescribable emotion he couldn't put a word to.
"Why did you say that?" Fraser asked through gritted teeth. "Why would you use those exact words?"
"It's just a phrase.” He leaned back away from Fraser. “It's something people say. What the hell is wrong with you?"
Fraser ran his hand across his mouth. "He was here, Ray."
"Who?" He didn't need to ask, he knew in his gut what Fraser was going to say, but he cherished that extra few seconds of pretending he didn't.
"Castiel. He showed up last night when I was--" he stopped before mentioning his father, no use making this worse than it was already. "When I was here alone, he just showed up. He was here all last night."
So, Fraser was being stalked by a guy claiming to be an angel of the Lord. That would make a person edgy. "What did you do?"
"We talked. We drank some scotch. He drank a lot more than I did. We... we talked." Fraser stopped and looked down at the table.
"So, where'd he go? Why'd you let him leave again?"
"I didn't exactly let him get away." He didn't look up. "He was here when I fell asleep. When I woke up... you were here."
"Well, then we need to find out where he went. We can't have weirdos showing up here at strange hours and menacing you."
He looked up. "I wasn’t being menaced. He might be, but I'm not."
"What are you talking about? Wait, back up--where did he go yesterday? Let's start with that."
"A Japanese game show, apparently."
Ray scratched the back of his head. "A what?"
"He said he had found Sam and Dean and that they were contestants on what appeared to be a Japanese game show. But, almost as soon as he got there, he was back here. He's under the impression that it isn't a trickster he's dealing with at all. He wasn't able to determine what it is exactly."
"And you bought that?"
"He put forth a very convincing case." He shredded the food wrappers as he spoke.
"How?"
"It's complicated."
"Try me Fraser." Ray rested his head on his arms, leaning on the table like a kid during story time. "I'm feeling really interested in learning right now."
"He materialized in the middle of the room. Just like he vanished earlier in the day," he snapped his fingers, "he was back. Before you ask, I am certain the building was locked at the time."
Ray blinked, and raised an eyebrow. "You got any of that scotch left, cuz, I'm thinking this coffee's a little weak.
"I think that would be ill-advised, although I can appreciate the sentiment."
"But why didn't you call me? Or do something other than just get drunk and trade stories? And apparently throw some glassware around? Do you want to explain that?"
"I suppose it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time."
"Is he some kind of hypnotist or something? I mean, did he fuck with you head or something?"
"Among other things."
"Other things?" Ray pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. "What did this guy do to you?" He leaned over, the palm of one hand on the table, the other resting on Fraser's shoulder.
"Nothing," Fraser said in a tone that was exactly unlike the way someone sounds when there's really nothing to talk about. This nothing was something and it was a big something, and Ray was getting impatient.
"Nothing? Nothing does not end with you passed out naked on a pile of broken glass. That is not how nothing ends." Fraser looked at Ray, and all of a sudden he understood. Oh yeah, he understood and he was at a complete loss. He moved his hand and stood up straight and stumbled backwards a couple of steps until he was leaning against the wall. "Oh." He would have walked through the wall if he could've. He would've done whatever he could to get away from this conversation.
"Ray," Fraser stood up, "Ray." He walked over until he was within arm's reach, but didn't attempt to bridge the gap. "Ray."
Ray held up his hands. "You gotta give me a second, Fraser. You've got to give me just a few damn seconds for this to sink in."
"Of course." He stood, his hands at his sides, silent and so damn patient. Always so damn patient.
"Cuz, you don't just get to spring that on me and then keep going like it's no big deal." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a big deal."
"Understood."
"And I'm not saying it like it changes anything. You're still you and all that, but you're also..." He waved his hand in the air, as if he could reach out and grab the right choice of words.
"Gay? I don't think it's that cut and dry. My previous encounters have all been with women."
"So you're gay for an angel, then? I hate to tell you this, but that doesn't make it better."
"I don't expect it would."
"How did it happen? Wait, don't answer that. I don't need details."
"Nor do I wish to provide them."
"I gotta sit down." Ray went back over to the table and collapsed onto the chair. "Be honest, did he do something to you to make you do that? Because if he did..." If he did, what? Fraser was a grown man, he could take care of himself, he didn't need Ray's protection.
Fraser pulled a chair around the table and sat down next to Ray. "He did do something, but not in the way you're implying. He--" Fraser reached up and put his index and middle finger between Ray's eyes. "He did this."
"That's it?" Ray furrowed his brow and crossed his eyes trying to look at the fingers on his forehead. "I don't get it."
"When he did it, somehow it caused me to see things.” Fraser grew flustered and began to stumble over the words. “Or, he made something happen and I admitted things...to myself. I don't know exactly what he did. I know that I'm not sure that I wanted to know...That's not an excuse, everything that I did was of my own volition."
"I still don't know what you're talking about. What could be so big of a deal you haven't told me? You don't strike me as the deep, dark secret type."
"We all have secrets." Fraser rested his chin on his hand.
"What's yours?" Ray asked. Fraser raised his eyebrows but remained silent. He didn't have to say anything. His expression said plenty. "Oh...Oh... Fuck."
Fraser smiled a sad smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Weren't you happier not knowing?" He looked away, unwilling or unable to look Ray in the eyes. "I know I was."
"I didn't say that. I didn't say--anything. So--don't jump to conclusions."
"I think your choice of expletive summed it up nicely."
They sat in silence. Neither of them really sure where to go with the conversation after that little revelation. What could they say? Whoever spoke up first was at a distinct tactical disadvantage. OK yeah, Fraser was kind of already at a disadvantage because of--because of everything, basically. But, no. No, he really wasn't, because he'd had a few hours to sort through all this shit and Ray had no time at all. The whole morning had been one massive clusterfuck of things he didn't need or want to know. Not only did he have to know those things, he had to react to them. He had to react to them right, too, because saying the wrong thing would be seriously bad right now and he didn't want to say the wrong thing. But what did he want to say, anyway? He had no idea.
"Dammit!"
"What?" Ray had had his head in his hands, but he looked up at the exclamation. "Damn."
"You have impeccable timing, you know that?" Fraser said.
"I hardly think so," said Castiel. "In fact, I would say that my timing is very far off at the moment."
Continued