Episode 1.00: Pilot

The trek from the airport to the police station was a long one, but really, it wasn't anything Fraser hadn't done before. Of course, in this case he was walking along highways, watching out for cars and taking care not to trip over litter, rather than tracking a criminal over a snowfield and keeping an eye out for thin ice. And to be honest, the multitude of sounds and harsh chemicals in the air were by far harder to deal with than the walk itself. Still, it gave him a chance to acclimatize himself to the city, and at the same time work through the chain of events that had led him from the frozen wilderness of his home to the urban jungle of Chicago.

When he'd received word of his father's death, he'd been both surprised and not. Surprised that anything, be it man, beast or the elements, had bested Robert Fraser. At the same time, given his father's single-mindedness there was a part of him that saw the death as almost a given. But he was certain it wasn't an accident, despite his superiors' assurances. And so he followed the trail, as surely as his father would have, until it led him to America, to the steps of the 27th Precinct in Chicago, Illinois.

Fraser walked into the building and stopped, momentarily stunned by the level of chaos surrounding him. He'd hoped that being indoors would bring a respite from the din outside, but apparently this magnitude of activity was the norm. Chiding himself for the response, he quickly made his way over to the desk sergeant. Yes, Chicago may be the biggest city he'd ever been in, and yes, coming in on top of an extended time alone it was doubly jarring. Still, he had a case to solve. He could do this; his father would expect nothing less.

"I'm looking for the detective in charge of this case number," he said, handing a slip of paper to the desk sergeant.

The officer nodded his head toward the door to his right as he handed back the slip. "He's in a holding cell." Fraser's eyes widened at that, and the officer added, "Not officially – Detective Kowalski just gets into the undercover thing a little too much sometimes, if you ask me. You want me to get him for you?"

Fraser shook his head. "That won't be necessary. Thank you kindly for your assistance."

Fraser followed another officer down to the cells, and went to the one pointed out to him. He walked around and glanced briefly over the lot before stopping to kneel by a particularly disheveled-looking man. "Detective Kowalski? I'm Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Might I have a few minutes of your time?"

There was a grumble from the other occupants of the cell, and the man sat up, glaring at him. Fraser just looked back at him, gaze steady, his expression polite but firm. The detective's glare deepened, and he grumbled under his breath as he got up and moved to the door of the cell, calling to be let out.

"You really need to call me out like that?" he spat out once he was out. "Is whatever you need more important than what I was working on back there?"

"I apologize if I've caused a delay in an investigation. If it was so important that your identity as an officer of the law not be known, the desk sergeant shouldn't have directed me to you."

Detective Kowalski shot an angry glance back at the man in question but kept on moving. Fraser kept pace, and soon they were at the detective's desk. He sat down with a thud, then leaned back in his chair.

"So how'd you know I was a cop?"

Fraser could hear the challenge in the detective's voice, and worked to keep his tone neutral as he answered. "Any number of ways. Your shoes are too well-soled to be anything but recently purchased, despite the attempts to make them look worn. Your coat, while old, is well-lined and though it is dirty, it isn't torn. You have an obvious layer of grime and city dirt on you, but your odor indicates you've bathed recently, and used if not expensive than at least high-quality cleansers. Your hair is disheveled but in more of a deliberately messy way than actually unkempt. And while you are thin, you don't have the hollow look of someone who's missed a number of meals."

Detective Kowalski leaned his chair back and stared up at Fraser. "You got all that from eye-balling me for ten seconds."

Fraser let a trace of his irritation at the detective's tone lace his voice as he answered. "I am a law enforcement officer."

Detective Kowalski sat forward abruptly, the legs of his chair thunking down hard on the floor. "So what are you doing here, so far from the great white north?"

"I'm told you're the officer assigned to this case." Fraser held out the case number for the detective to see. "I'd like to know if you've made any progress."

Detective Kowalski rolled his eyes. "You blew my cover for that? Listen, I got a lot of cases on my desk, so your dead Mountie's just gonna have to take a number and wait his turn. Not like he's going anywhere."

Fraser stiffened visibly at that. "That 'dead Mountie' was my father. And if you don't have time to investigate the whereabouts of his murderer, I'll thank you kindly to give me any information you do have and let me take care of it myself."

He held out a hand and Detective Kowalski dug through his pile on his desk to find the file, red-faced. He held the file out, and as Fraser reached for it he held on, saying, "Sorry about that. I didn't know." He looked Fraser in the eye and Fraser finally nodded acknowledgement of the apology, then took the file and walked out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days went by in somewhat of a blur. Fraser made his way to the Consulate, and met his superior, a man with very unique ideas on Canada's role as a world power, and the Consulate's role in Chicago. He alienated a co-worker by the simple fact of his existence. He did his best to acquaint himself with the details of his new position, and somewhere in there, he found temporary lodging. What he did not have time to do was the very thing he'd come for – to continue the search for his father's killer. He found himself at a loss, but unwilling to admit he might be ill-equipped to continue the hunt on his own. He slept fitfully, his mind racing, his finely-tuned hearing latching onto every strange sound.

And so it was a tired, and somewhat downtrodden Fraser that went back to the airport two days later to pick up his traveling companion. Diefenbaker woofed happily at Fraser as he was released, and Fraser knelt down to scratch him behind the ears. "It's good to see you too. A friendly face seems rather hard to come by here." He stood and gestured for Dief to follow him. "Come on – I've found us a place to stay for now. But don't be surprised or offended if they think you're a dog. These people are woefully uneducated when it comes to wildlife."

Dief sneezed. "Well, yes of course I've tried to set the record straight, but I just thought you should be prepared." He shook his head. "I honestly don't know why I even bother sometimes."

The next day found Fraser on guard duty, which while it gave him time to think through a plan of action, in this instance was more a nuisance. He'd come up with very little since his arrival, and to have to stand here now, basically useless, was galling. Add to that the onlookers who gawked as they passed or worse, stopped to try to distract him, and he was more than ready for his shift to end.

Fraser realized he was being watched again, and mentally braced himself. But this was different somehow, more focused. He was trying to think of a way to surreptitiously look around, make sure that whoever it was meant no harm, when he heard a familiar voice.

"This is what they've got you doing? You've gotta be kidding me!" It was Detective Kowalski. Fraser couldn't help but wonder what had brought the man here. He'd made it painfully clear at the station that Fraser's search was of little importance to him. "That's the biggest waste of time I've ever seen. Why the hell would anyone make a cop be a statue?"

Fraser couldn't respond of course, and in this case he was actually glad of it. The anger in the detective's voice was surprising; he wasn't sure what to make of it. They barely knew one another, and in point of fact both men had been rude to one another. For him to be angry on Fraser's behalf was a puzzle.

The detective kept on about the apparent injustice being done to him for a few minutes more, using invective Fraser found both original and rather unlikely to achieve. When he wound down, he put an arm over Fraser's shoulder and leaned in.

"Listen, you ever get done with the paralyzed thing, you give me a call. I think I have a lead for you." Fraser felt pressure on his hat, oddly, and then Detective Kowalski was gone.

When his shift was finally over, the first thing Fraser did was to remove his hat, to see what had been done to it. He found a business card tucked in the brim, with two phone numbers and the words "call me" written on the back. He made his way back to his office and picked up the phone, then put it back down, unsure. Dief sneezed at him.

"I have no idea how you could know that – you didn't even meet the man," Fraser replied tersely. At a look from Dief, he picked the phone back up and dialed. "And before you ask, no, I will not ask him where the best restaurants that allow half-wolves would be."

"Detective Kowalski? This is Constable Benton Fraser."

"Hey, cool! I wasn't sure you'd call, after how things went at the station the other day. For which I am sorry, just so you know." He sounded sincere.

"I'm sure you didn't mean any disrespect."

"Absolutely no I did not. It's just, I have a serious case of foot in mouth disease, okay? I speak before I think, and sometimes it gets me in trouble."

"Only sometimes?" Fraser winced as the words came out of his mouth, but the detective didn't seem offended.

"Har de har. Yeah, sometimes. There's times going with your gut is the best way to go, y'know?"

"I see. Have you made some progress on my father's case, Detective?"

"It's Ray, and yeah, I think I might have a lead. How about we meet up and I can go over what I have with you."

Fraser looked at the clock. "I'm on desk duty for another thirty minutes, but I can meet you after that. Should I come to the station?"

"Nah, too crowded, too noisy, and I've been here too long already. I saw a diner not too far from the Consulate. What was the name… Lois's… Larry's… Lou Anne's!" he exclaimed. "How about we meet there in an hour, talk about this over a burger?"

Fraser thought about that a moment. "That will be fine." He stopped a moment, then went on. "Thank you, detec- Ray."

"Hey, just doing my job. I'll see you there." The line went dead, and Fraser looked down at Dief as he hung up the phone. "Well, it looks as if you'll get to find out firsthand if your suppositions have any merit. We're meeting Ray in an hour."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray arrived at the diner to find that Fraser was already there, seated at a booth near the back. "Sorry I'm late," he started as he slid into the seat across from Fraser, "parking was a – hey! What the hell is that?" he exclaimed as something cold and damp nudged his hand.

"I'm terribly sorry, Ray," Fraser said, the look on his face not convincing Ray that he meant it. "Diefenbaker," Fraser went on, ducking to look below the table-top, "the least you could do is wait to be properly introduced." Fraser sat back up as 'Diefenbaker' edged his way out from under the booth, and Ray's eyes widened as he saw just what had been nuzzling him.

"You have a wolf? Is that even legal?"

"Half-wolf actually, and his papers are all in order - he was just released from quarantine late yesterday afternoon. I apologize for his manners – he's used to a much less formal environment. Diefenbaker, this is Detective Ray Kowalski, of the Chicago police department."

Ray eyed the canine warily. "Pleased to meet you," he mumbled, half-wondering if this was some sort of weird Canadian prank.

"I'm afraid you'll have to enunciate more clearly, Ray. Dief is deaf."

Ray stared at him incredulously. "You have a deaf half-wolf."

"He's agreed to travel with me yes. I'd never presume ownership."

Ray looked from Fraser to the wolf, then back again. "Are all Mounties like you?" he finally asked.

Fraser rubbed an eyebrow. "No. I'd have to say I'm something of a rarity."

Ray looked at them both again and nodded. "That's a relief. So your dad didn't have a polar bear for a partner or anything." He'd meant it as an icebreaker, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Fraser sat up straighter, which Ray hadn't thought was possible, and Ray could feel him shutting down. Dammit.

He rubbed a tired hand over his face and signaled the waitress for coffee. "Bad joke. Sorry. I didn't mean to piss you off."

"If assisting me is just a way to assuage your guilt, you really needn't worry. I understand that you have a great many cases to work."

Ray looked down at the tabletop for a long moment, then back up at Fraser. "Okay, yeah. Maybe there's some guilt there, me feeling bad about what I said earlier. I got to thinking, what if it had been my dad? I mean, he and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things, but he's still my dad." Ray shrugged, a little embarrassed. "But it isn't just that. I figure if you came all the way here to follow up on this, there must be something to it. And while I don't have time for a dead-end, nobody-cares-about-it case, I do have time for this."

Ray could practically feel Fraser weigh what he said. "I appreciate your honesty," he finally replied with a nod. "And I hope there is something to this. My superiors sent me here as much to get me out of the way as anything else, I'm afraid. But I'm sure that I'm on the right track."

Ray nodded energetically, relieved that he hadn't totally screwed things up. "Yeah, me too." He hesitated, then went on. "There's something you should know. I know this is important to you, trust me, but unless it gets a lot bigger here, you're not going to have anybody else from the 2-7 helping out. It's just me, Stanley Raymond Kowalski."

Fraser started to say something, then stopped himself. Ray had to wonder if he'd been about to give him grief about the name. It'd only be fair after the polar bear comment he'd made earlier.

When Fraser stayed silent, Ray went on. "The good news is, like I said on the phone, I did some follow up and I think I found a lead."

"I have to admit that I'm curious as to how that's possible, given that you gave me the case file."

"One of the names rang a bell but I couldn't figure out why, so I wrote it down. It took me awhile, but I finally remembered. This guy, Dr. Lawrence Medley, he was my dentist for about a little while, about a dozen years ago."

"Was your dentist? Was he not good at his job?"

"Nah, I liked him okay. But he died, so it got kind of hard for him to keep appointments. The way I see it, unless Canada is some kind of cool afterlife hangout, Medley wasn't on the plane."

Fraser nodded. "You have a remarkable memory for names, Ray."

He ducked his head self-consciously. "Thanks. It's just part of the job. If you don't have names and details in place, you might wind up dead." The two just looked at each other for a few seconds.

"Well then," Fraser said, "perhaps we could join forces, work together on this particular case. It would seem the most logical use of time and resources."

Ray nodded at that. "Yeah, makes sense. Sure, if Welsh gives it the okay, I'm game."

Fraser gave him an impatient look. "What, you mean now? Okay, okay, let me at least finish my coffee."

Ray ended up getting a refill on his coffee to go, along with a sandwich, asserting, "Trust me - if we're going to be working you want me to have more than just the caffeine," and they made their way back to Ray's car. Fraser worried a little about getting wolf hair in the back, but Ray waved that off. "This clunker's seen worse. Now, if it were a cool car, like the GTO I had back in the day, it'd be another story. But since it isn't, mi auto is su auto, and that includes the mutt."

Fraser thanked Ray with a nod, admonishing Dief to still be careful not to tear the upholstery, and once he was belted in they were on their way back to the station.

Ray tapped his hand on the wheel, trying to find a way to fill the silence. He glanced over at Fraser, who didn't look any more comfortable than Ray felt. "So you and your old man were real close, huh?"

"Not especially. Why would you think that?"

Ray shrugged. "You're here, tracking down his murderer. You just doing that because Mounties always get their man?"

"That isn't our motto."

"It isn't?"

"No, though that is a common misconception. It's actually Maintens le Droit, or Maintain the Right, to be precise, though Defending the Law is the looser and yet more accurate translation."

"Huh. Learn something new every day." Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, until the quiet got to Ray again.

"So you guys weren't close but you still came all this way."

Fraser nodded. "You said yourself you'd do the same in my place."

"Yeah, I know I did. Still, this has got to be above and beyond for you, am I right?"

"How so?"

"Tracking some guy across the snow is one thing. Not that I'm saying that's easy – takes a lot of survival skills and all, I'm sure, but it's not Chicago. You ever worked in a city this big?"

Fraser shook his head, and Ray nodded as he went on. "Yeah, I didn't think so. So, big city, which make you uncomfortable. Your partner's a half-wolf, who is also not in his element. And you came to me for help, which unless I miss my guess is not your normal M.O."

"You're wrong there, Ray. Attaining local help was the most reasonable course of action."

"Yeah, but just because it's reasonable doesn't mean it's the way you want to do it. You don't trust anyone to do the job right but yourself. So yeah, I think this is way outside your comfort zone." He gave Fraser a challenging look. "Am I wrong?"

Fraser shifted in his seat. "Your observational skills are disturbingly accurate."

"Hey, I may not be the smartest kid on the block, but I do know people. Have to, to do the undercover stuff I do." Fraser didn't respond, so Ray went on "Okay, so here you are all super-cop skills but you don't know the lay of the land, which I know like the back of my hand. Question is, you gonna trust me to help, or are you gonna go off on your own?" He held up a hand to stop Fraser's reply. "Because I know what you said in the diner, but if I'm going to put my neck out for you with my boss, I need to know you're not going to leave me hanging."

Ray waited, and was finally about to push for Fraser to say something when Fraser finally replied, "I'm not used to having a partner, but I'll do my best."

Ray grinned and slapped Fraser's arm lightly with the back of his hand. "That's all I'm asking."

Once at the station, Ray convinced Fraser it would be best if they didn't take Diefenbaker into Welsh's office. "He's trained, right? He'll stay under my desk if you tell him to?"

"I can ask," Fraser replied, and Ray watched as Fraser did just that, slowly and clearly, as if the mutt actually understood every word. But whatever he said, it worked – Diefenbaker curled himself under Ray's desk, seemingly content, as Ray and Fraser made their way to the Lieutenant's office.

"Constable Benton Fraser, this is my boss, Lieutenant Welsh. Lieu, Fraser's here because of a case."

"Let me guess – the dead Mountie thing."

Ray made a face behind Fraser's back and jumped in before Welsh could say anything else. "Yeah, so it turns out that was Fraser's dad, and he wants to help me follow up on some of the leads. I figure as long as you're good with it, I could do it. It'd be a real interdepartment cooperative thing."

Welsh just looked at him. "You want to work with the Constable."

Ray's gaze fell to the floor, then he looked back up at Welsh, determination on his face. "Yeah. Like I said, I think it'd be a good thing. Plus, I don't have anything that really needs me on it right now, right?"

"No, you don't," Welsh said slowly, still staring at Ray.

"If I might say something, Lieutenant," Fraser interjected, waiting for Welsh's nod to continue. "I believe that with Ray's knowledge of the area and my investigative work so far, between us we have a very good chance of bringing my father's killer to justice, sir."

Welsh sat down and took a long drink of his coffee before answering. He looked back and forth between the two of them, then shrugged. "Never let it be said I was against international cooperation. Just keep me posted, Kowalski. On a regular basis, do you understand?"

"Got it," Ray replied with a grin as he headed toward the door, gesturing for Fraser to follow. "We'll keep you posted. C'mon, Fraser – time's a-wasting."

"And Kowalski," Ray paused at the door, and Welsh gave him a firm look. "Try to remember that we like Canada, they're our good neighbors. We're not at war with them and you need to keep it that way."

Ray rolled his eyes and left, gesturing for Fraser to follow him to his desk. "Okay, let's see what we can dig up." He moved to sit down and saw Fraser standing there looking a little lost. Glancing at the chair full of files, Ray rubbed the back of his neck and moved to clear a space. "Sorry about that. But I do have a system."

"Ah."

"What?" Ray asked, eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

"What does what mean?" Fraser replied.

Ray snorted and kept cleaning. "You know what. Ah. Is that Canadian for Ray's a slob?"

"Your filing system certainly is unique, Ray."

"Yeah, well it makes sense to me, and I know where everything is. Not everybody's a place for everything and everything in its place kind of person."

"Of course not. I'm sure it serves you well."

Ray was pretty sure he was being mocked, but not quite sure enough to call Fraser out on it. The chair now clear, he went to move a few files behind his desk, to give Fraser a place to put his hat. He stopped mid-motion at the look Fraser was giving him. "What now?"

"I don't mean to intrude on your way of doing things, but unless your filing system includes the trash can, you might want to rethink where you put those." He nodded toward the edge of the desk Ray had been headed toward, and Ray leaned over to see that he'd managed to shove the pile halfway off the desk in his efforts to make room. He looked up at Fraser, who was definitely trying to stifle a grin. "Or perhaps that's a secondary tier of files. I admit that I don't understand all the nuances of your system."

Ray shoved the stack back into place and gestured for Fraser to sit down. "Funny. How about we work on the case instead of your stand-up act?"

The corners of Fraser's mouth upturned as he nodded. "Understood."

"Okay," Ray said, shaking himself. "So we need to go see some of the other guys on this list, find out if any of them know anything."

They got lucky with their first visit. The man didn't know Medley, but he'd gotten a picture he was willing to let them have. He was "never around when we were taking pictures," the guy had said. Fraser hadn't recognized anyone in the photo, but the one that had been pointed out as Medley was familiar to Ray. "I just can't put my finger on it, but I'm sure I know the guy from somewhere," he told Fraser as they headed back to the car. "I'm gonna let it percolate in the back of my brain for awhile, see if I can't figure it out."

"So you do think I'm on the right track," Fraser said as Ray drove them back toward the station.

"You're definitely on a track – not sure if it's the right one, but you've found something worth looking into."

The trip back to the station was uneventful. Once there, Ray tried looking over mug shots to jog his memory, but came up empty. He leaned back in his chair, frowning. "I know I've seen that guy somewhere. I just can't remember where – and before you ask, it isn't in a stack on my desk. This is something else…" He looked out over the bullpen, then stood up. "Elaine! Hey, what was the name of that guy were we looking at last week – the one I had you pull the computer records for?" He snapped his fingers as he thought. "It was some kind of bird – goose? Mallard?"

Elaine frowned as she thought. "You mean Francis Drake?"

Ray nodded and grinned. "That's the guy! You still have the info on where he is?"

"I think so. Let me look." She went to her desk to search her files.

"Francis Drake?" Fraser asked.

"Yeah – you heard of the guy?"

Fraser shook his head. "The name struck me as interesting. Sir Francis Drake was a British explorer, slave-trader, privateer in the 1500s. He was commissioned by Queen Elizabeth the First to lead the second expedition to sail around the world, he first voyage being led by Magellan, of course."

Ray just stared at him. You grow up in a library or something?"

"My grandparents were traveling librarians."

"That explains a lot," Ray replied with a wink. He jostled Fraser with an elbow and tilted his head to signal Fraser to follow him. "The only exploring this guy does has to do with looking for the best way to get in, kill a guy, and get out again before he's spotted."

They stopped at Elaine's desk and she handed him some papers. "Here you go, Ray."

"Elaine, you're the best," Ray said. "Come on, Fraser – we have a bad guy to track down."

Fraser nodded toward Elaine before following Ray. "Thank you kindly, ma'am."

Ray stopped suddenly, and Fraser nearly ran into him. "Hey, wait a sec – where's the wolf?"

"Do you have a snack room of some sort?" Fraser asked. Ray nodded, and Fraser sighed. "Then he's likely there, trying to convince someone he hasn't eaten in weeks." One quick, successful trip to the breakroom later and the two headed out the door, Fraser admonishing Diefenbaker all the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as they were out the door, Elaine picked up the phone and dialed. "Frannie, it's Elaine. You won't believe this. I've just seen my future husband."

Frannie snorted. "I thought you said you'd never marry a cop. Ooh, or is this guy a suspect?"

Elaine rolled her eyes as she answered. "Please – like I'd do that again. He isn't a cop, exactly. He's a Mountie. And trust me, for him I'll make an exception."

"He's a what?"

"Royal Canadian Mounted Police. He came in to work on a case with Ray. I'm thinking maybe I need to look into international law enforcement if he's a typical example of the Canadian police."

"Geez, he must be something special. If he's all that I might make a try for him myself," she went on, teasing.

Elaine grinned. "I saw him first."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lieutenant Welsh didn't seem particularly keen on us working together," Fraser stated as they got into Ray's car.

"What makes you think that?"

"He seemed less than enthusiastic about our ability to solve the case."

Ray shrugged. "That didn't have anything to do with you. He's just surprised I'm willing to partner up with you. And by you I mean anybody."

"You don't normally have a partner?"

Ray gave him a disbelieving look, then pointed at Fraser. "You do not get to do that. You're like the original pot to my kettle here."

Fraser tried to look polite and disapproving simultaneously. "I was merely expressing my surprise, not passing any sort of judgment."

"You're surprised," Ray responded, deadpan. "What, you think there's cops lining up around the block to partner with me?" He sighed, shaking his head. "Sorry – kind of a sore spot with me, I guess. Fact is, I do a lot of undercover work, and that's best done solo."

"Really? I'd think you'd want a contact within the department, someone upon whom you could rely."

"I got Welsh to report to – that's good enough for me. Anyhow, I just finished a gig, so there hasn't been time for the Lieu to even try to saddle me with someone."

Ray pulled into a gas station and stopped the car, turning to face Fraser.

"Okay, here's the thing. I need to go in and ask a few questions, but you're gonna have to hang back, stay in the car. It isn't that I don't trust you, but believe me when I say you won't fit in where I'm going. Plus, these guys don't know I'm a cop – at least most of them don't. So I just want to hop in, ask a few questions, then hop back out."

Fraser scowled at that. "Do you always insist on doing everything yourself? If so, I can see why you don't have a partner."

"Ha ha. I told you, you won't fit in. You can be my lookout, ready in case I need help, which I shouldn't. I might need to use this cover again someday, so you blowing it for me would not be a good thing."

"And you chose this place because…?"

"Because people there will know Drake, and not all of them in a friendly way. Plus, the place is neutral enough territory I should be able to get info without ruffling any feathers." He gave Fraser a steady look. "You gonna back me up on this?"

Fraser thought about it, then nodded. "It's your city, Ray. I'll follow your lead."

Ray nodded, satisfied. "That's all I'm asking." He opened the car door and went to the trunk,closing it after pulling out a duffel bag, which he set by the open door. "I gotta change now, before we get too close," he explained as he shucked off his jacket and leaned in to toss it in the back seat. Fraser watched Ray put on a ratty Bears sweatshirt and an equally shabby jacket, then sit down to trade his boots for an old pair of sneakers. Reaching down into the bag again, he pulled out a comb and proceeded to flatten his hair down as best he could. Finally, he dropped the comb back in and pulled out a small box, which he opened to reveal a plain gold band.

"I may be divorced, but this guy isn't. Nagging wife, two kids, never enough money…" Ray hesitated briefly, then put the ring on and moved the duffel to the back seat. As he did, his entire demeanor changed. Gone was the detective Fraser had come to know. In his place sat someone he wasn't sure he'd recognize if he passed him on the street, hunched over, closed off, expression wary and nervous. His hands shook slightly, he was so jittery; much more than the nervous energy Fraser was just starting to become accustomed to.

"You're very thorough," Fraser said, impressed.

"Didn't expect me to be?" Ray asked, just a hint of the Ray Fraser knew coming through.

Fraser tugged at his collar. "Well, given how we'd met, I'm sorry to say that I was under the impression that your undercover skills were somewhat… slipshod."

"That was different," Ray responded. "I was just trying that guy on for size, seeing if he'd work."

"You were doing research?"

"More like adding to my bag of tricks. And you caught me out on every detail I let slide. It wasn't you I was pissed at that day – I was mad at me for doing a half-assed job. If that had been a real assignment, being that sloppy could've gotten me dead."

Ray started the car back up, and drove them to a run-down section of town. He parked and turned to Fraser. "Okay, the place is about three blocks that way," he said, pointing. "I need to walk it, so we're not seen together. That uniform of yours just stands out too much. But," he went on before Fraser could protest," if you want to drive the rest of the way and wait outside, that'd be okay. Just don't come in unless you hear shooting, which you won't. Oh, and when I leave, don't follow me or drive off right away. Wait a few, then meet me back here. You can drive, right?"

"Well, it's no dogsled, but I'm sure I can manage."

Ray stared at him, then grinned. "Okay, I deserved that." He opened the car door to get out, then turned back. "Give me about ten minutes or so before you follow. It'll hopefully make it look less like you're there with me."

Fraser nodded as he slid over to the driver's side. "Understood, Ray. Be careful."

"Don't worry about me - I don't stick my neck out for anybody." Ray said with a smile, then he hunched over and walked off, completely in character.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser fully intended to stay in the car, once he'd parked it down the street from the bar, but Diefenbaker had other ideas. Fraser shook his head as he followed the half-wolf. "There's no use complaining – this is the best I can do," he admonished. "Perhaps next time you'll listen to me when I ask if you need to go before we start working." As they approached an alley, a man darted out and stopped, eyes widening as he saw Fraser. Fraser recognized the man as Francis Drake, but before he could say anything, Drake pulled a gun, fired at him and ran. Luck was on Fraser's side, or perhaps the man just had extraordinarily bad aim – neither he nor Diefenbaker had been hit.

People started coming out of the bar, drawn by the noise. Ray was among them, and Fraser did his best not to show that he knew him. "Everything is fine, thank you," he stated loudly, trying to be heard over the murmur of the crowd. "But if any of you might know anything about a Mr. Francis Drake, I'd be very interested in speaking with you."

At the name, the crowd went quiet, and many began moving back toward the bar, avoiding eye contact with Fraser. Again, Ray went with them. As he and Diefenbaker were left alone on the sidewalk, Fraser sighed heavily, and hoped Ray had better luck.

A short while later he met Ray at the rendezvous point as scheduled. Ray was obviously agitated, but refused to speak to Fraser about it.

"I can assure you that we had no intentions of getting involved, Ray," Fraser said by way of apology. "That Diefenbaker had to heed a call of nature at the same time Drake was attempting to leave was pure happenstance."

Ray tapped the steering wheel and didn't look at Fraser. Finally, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "Look, I'm not mad about what happened. Might actually have been a good thing, even. Got everybody talking about Drake, which means I didn't have to work too hard for info. It's just – he could have shot you, Fraser. Do you not get that?"

"Of course I do, Ray. It's one of the hazards of the job. But he didn't, so I see no reason to dwell on it."

Ray rubbed his face again. "Okay, then. You don't think it's a big deal, I'll try to act the same. But if I get shot, you'd better be upset about it."

"Understood."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray ran his fingers through his hair as he slid his chair back from his desk and stood. "Okay, I officially can't think anymore here. How about we grab the files, snag some take-out and hash this out some more over at my place?"

Fraser hesitated. "I wouldn't want to intrude on more of your personal time, Ray. I can keep working here if you're tired."

"What's to intrude on? I don't have a life to worry about. And you need to eat too, so quit trying to be noble and just say yes." He looked at Fraser earnestly. "I know you need to work on this, and I am one hundred percent with you. Just not here. I need a change of scenery." He flashed a grin. "And maybe a beer. So, what do you say?"

Dief woofed and moved to stand by Ray, who laughed as much at Dief as at the glare his behavior got him from Fraser. "Looks like it's two to one in my favor." He reached for his jacket. "Let's get our stuff and go."

Some time later, they were huddled over an open file on Ray's table, plates shoved aside to make room for files and notes. Ray leaned back to give Fraser a measuring look, then spoke. "I hate to ask this, but I gotta. Is there anybody your dad worked with that would have wanted him dead?"

Fraser just stared at him. "You can't be serious," he finally said. "You think his murderer was hired by a member of the RCMP?"

"I think it's worth considering."

"May I ask why?"

Ray gestured toward the papers strewn across the table. "Because Drake ran from you when he saw you. And from what I can see, he'd never even been to Canada before he went after your dad. Something about this isn't adding up. It's giving me a bad feeling."

"Oh," Fraser replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, "a feeling. Of course. Does your feeling tell you who we should suspect? Which of the respected members of the RCMP do you want to start your witch hunt with?"

"Don't," Ray replied, his voice like steel. "Do not do that. You may be hot stuff up north, but you're on my turf now. And this," he jabbed at the closest file, "is what I do, and I'm damn good at it. Hell, IA'd have me in a second if the idea of working for them didn't make me want to punch something." He stood up and crossed his arms, challenging. "So you can think there's nobody who wanted your dad dead, and maybe you're even right, but you don't get to do that with me just because you don't like what I'm saying."

Fraser stood and faced Ray, then moved to look out the window. He stayed there for a good while, and Ray just waited, letting him think it all through. When Fraser finally turned to face him, he looked more than a little lost. "I don't want to believe it's true – you're absolutely correct in that. That said, your theory, make more sense than I'd like." He walked over to Ray and held out his hand. "I'm sorry I let my emotions get the better of me."

Ray shook his hand, relaxing. "Hey, no skin off my nose. I know this is hard to hear." He moved back to the table. "How about we talk this through like people trying to solve a case now, okay?"

Before Fraser could answer, Ray's phone rang, and he glared at it for interrupting, then answered it with a gruff, "Kowalski."

"Ray, it's Elaine. Listen, is the hunk with you Constable Benton Fraser?"

"Ray chuckled. "You got a new crush, Elaine? At least this one's not a criminal."

"I thought we agreed never to speak of that, Kowalski," she growled.

"Sorry," Ray answered. "Yeah, that's him. Why?"

"I have a message for him from a coroner with the RCMP. Said to tell Fraser that the "caribou he brought in drowned." Does that make any sense?"

"Let me see." Ray covered the phone with one hand and relayed the message to Fraser.

Fraser's face got very stern and he nodded. "Thank you kindly, Ray."

"It's nothing to me, Elaine, but Fraser says thanks. Why're you working the late shift?"

"Traded it to get next weekend off." Ray could hear the ring of a phone in the background. "Got to get back to it."

"Thanks again, Elaine," Ray said as she hung up. "So I'm thinking this is one of those things you 'couldn't explain', am I right?"

"It is. You see, when I went to investigate the crime scene, I found several dead caribou."

"And they should've been able to swim?"

"They drowned on dry land, Ray."

"That's some trick. Okay, how about we go looking for Drake, see what he has to say. Maybe my hunch is right, maybe not. But until we talk to him, we're kind of stuck guessing." As they headed toward the door, Ray added, "And you can explain the drowning caribou thing to me on the way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser told Ray about searching the area where his father had died, and how he'd found the dead caribou. And how one of the local Inuit hunters had spoken with him, briefly and cryptically, telling him just enough to convince him to take the caribou in for an autopsy.

The best lead they had to follow was Drake's ex-wife, who finally told them he had a place in Chinatown. With back-up on the way, Fraser and Ray entered the building.

"Don't we want to wait for the other officers, Ray? Or perhaps a warrant?"

"No time, Fraser. You spooked that guy but good – we need to nail him while we can." They found the apartment, and after knocking and identifying himself and getting no answer, Ray jimmied the lock.

"Another of your bag of tricks?"

Ray grinned. "It's good to have a wide variety of skills, Fraser."

They went in and started searching the room. Suddenly, Ray cursed loudly and started pushing Fraser toward the window next to him.

"Out now!" he yelled, and Fraser did as he was told, Ray following closely behind as an explosion destroyed the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray woke up in a hospital bed, Fraser sitting by his side, looking worried. "I'm sorry Ray," he said after the doctors had come in to check Ray over. "This is all my fault."

Ray frowned at that. "You set the bomb? You hire Drake to kill to kill your old man?"

"Of course not, Ray, but -"

"Uh-uh, no buts, Fraser. This isn't your fault. I got careless is all."

"You went against your credo." Ray frowned at that, confused, and Fraser went on. "To not stick your neck out for anyone."

Ray looked down at his hands and fiddled with the edge of the blankets. "Yeah, well there's gotta be an exception to every rule, right?"

"I won't forget, Ray. You saved my life – I owe you a great debt." Fraser stood up, clearing his throat. "I'll be sure to make a report to Lieutenant Welsh, noting your exemplary behavior throughout this case."

Ray blinked at that, confused. "You sound like you're saying good-bye, Fraser."

Fraser rubbed an eyebrow with his thumb. "I've been recalled, Ray."

"Because of this?"

"I went beyond the scope of my duties. I've been asked to return to Canada."

"And you're just going?"

Fraser focused on a point just over Ray's head, refusing to meet his eyes. "I don't see as I have a choice."

"I hope Canada works out for you, then," Ray responded quietly.

As Fraser was leaving, Ray called out to him. "Hey, I find out anything else about Drake, I'll let you know."

"I don't think that's wise. You've already been injured because of this case."

"Not your call, Fraser." Ray's voice was firm.

Fraser nodded. "Thank you kindly, Ray."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gerard was waiting for Fraser outside of Ray's room. He thought it was a bit much; it wasn't as if he'd ever shirked his duty. As they started out of the garage, they were ambushed by Drake, who nearly shot them before Gerard killed him.

Fraser looked down at the body, stunned. "Why did you do that? We could have taken him in. He would have been made to pay for his crimes."

"He's dead, Ben. Isn't that payment enough? I want vengeance for Bob's death as much as you, but this way, it's over. Your father can rest in peace."

Fraser couldn't help but replay Ray's words in his head as Gerard spoke. Is there anybody your dad worked with that would have wanted him dead? Gerard and his father had been colleagues; more than that, they'd been friends. To even suspect him of having a part in his father's death turned Fraser's stomach. And yet… why was Gerard in Chicago? And why had he killed the man that could have led them to the real culprit behind his father's death? It was obvious that Drake had been nothing more than a tool, a hired gun. Gerard spoke of revenge, but how could he not know that what his father would have wanted was not vengeance, but justice? Anything less dishonored his memory.

The next day found Fraser at the dam near the place his father had been killed, contemplating just what he should do next. As he sat there thinking, Eric, the hunter he'd seen before, came to sit by him, filling in some more of the gaps. Fraser's heart sank at what his old friend told him. The valley was being flooded deliberately, changing the face of the land in ways it was never meant to, including killing caribou and other wildlife. And Fraser's father apparently knew it was happening, if what he was being told was true.

Fraser sat there for a long time after Eric left, lost in thought, wondering just what part in this his father had really played. He tried to put what he knew about his father against what he'd just heard, but he just couldn't reconcile the two. When he stood and made his way toward the road, Fraser saw Gerard there waiting for him.

The encounter left him shaken. What Eric had told him was bad enough; to hear that his father was murdered over money and an ill-planned project made it even worse. And then Gerard implicated his father even further, showing Fraser a bank book full of deposits, money his father allegedly took for keeping quiet… it was nearly too much to bear. Fraser retreated to his father's cabin, less sure of anything than he'd ever felt in his life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser was looking through one of his father's trunks a few days later when he heard someone approaching the cabin. Putting his father's journal aside with the others, he picked up his rifle and moved silently toward the door. He opened it and stood there in shock. On the porch was Ray Kowalski, layered and bundled and yet still shivering, his cheek bandaged and his wrist in a cast, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. "Ray, what are you doing here?"

"You gonna let me in?"

Fraser stepped aside and Ray stomped the snow off his boots before entering.

"Ray," Fraser said, gesturing toward Ray's arm, "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but should you be out of the hospital?"

"I've taken worse hits in the ring," he replied. "These are just scratches. Told you I'd let you know if I found out anything, right? And I'd've called, but apparently they don't put phone lines up this close to the North Pole. What, you afraid you're gonna get Rudolph caught in the lines?" Ray sat down at the table, taking off his hat to shake out his hair.

"Anyhow," he went on, "being stuck in the hospital gives a guy a lot of time to think, and I got it all figured out. Drake was hard to trace because he had no phone, so no records of calls, right? So I started thinking, and I remembered seeing him use the bar phone more than once so I had Elaine check the records and guess what? A couple of calls to Canada, right around the time you dad died. I even got a name for you."

"Gerard."

Ray narrowed his eyes at Fraser. "Wait – how did you know that?"

"I've confronted him about it already, Ray. He admitted to me that he hired Drake to kill my father."

Ray seemed to deflate at that. "So he's in jail. Guess it's a waste of a trip, then."

"No, he's free. And he's convinced he'll stay that way, that I won't risk tarnishing my father's reputation."

Ray gave him a sharp look. "You're kidding me. I barely know you and I know better. No way will you let him off the hook."

"You seem sure of that, Ray."

"I'm pretty good at reading people, like I said before. So, I'm right, right? You're not going to let him get away with it."

Fraser shook his head. "No, I'm not. And if my father's name does bear some shame because of it, I think he'd understand. He was going to turn Gerard in, or else he wouldn't have been killed. I have to finish what he started."

Ray nodded. "Okay, that's great, but does Gerard knows this? Or does he think he's got you where he wants you?"

"He did. At least until I left a dead caribou on his cohort's desk."

Ray chuckled at that. "Okay, Mountie justice Godfather-style. I like it. Except for the part where you tipped him off. We gotta work fast then. He's already had someone killed to keep himself safe – no way he wouldn't do it again."

"True, but we do have an advantage. No one knows this land better than I do. If he comes for me here, I'll be ready."

"You got more than that – you got me. And these," Ray replied, leaning over to pull the bag he'd brought up to the tabletop. He unzipped it and started pulling out a startling array of weaponry, some of which Fraser was sure were illegal in any country, all of which he couldn't believe Ray was able to bring into Canada in the first place.

"I see your bag of tricks is more than just a metaphor," he said, eyebrows raised.

Ray grinned as he pulled out a grenade. "What can I say – I'm a packrat. Never know when something might come in handy."

Fraser went out to tend the dogs while Ray checked his weapons. Dief was wary, which put Fraser on alert. Still, he was surprised when he opened the barn door to find a gun in his face. The battle was quickly joined, and Fraser took out his assailant just in time to see three more men run from the cabin, which then exploded. It looked as if Ray had found a use for that grenade.

Fraser backtracked and met Ray on the trail. "Here's our transportation, Ray."

"Boy, you weren't kidding about the whole dogsled thing, were you?" Ray asked, but any hesitation he might have had fled at the sound of their pursuers.

"All right – let's hope you drive this like I drive a car."

Fraser did. Between the two of them they took out seven men and two snowmobiles. As Fraser stood out in the open, searching for Gerard, he heard the sound of a rifle being readied. "It's over – you can't cover this up." Fraser called out, bracing himself for the shot. "Shoot me and they'll hunt you to the ends of the earth." He heard the crack of a rifle, and then saw Gerard fall.

As he made his way to Gerard, Eric walked up, his rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Sorry," he said as he stopped by them. "Thought he was a caribou. So many hunting accidents."

Fraser just nodded, and watched him walk off. He made sure Gerard would be all right, then went back to the dogsled, where Ray was kneeling by Dief. "Looks like on of the shots winged him," Ray said, petting Dief's head gently. "I'm no wolf expert, but we get him to a vet and he should be okay."

They loaded him on the sled and set off for town.

"What about Gerard?" Ray asked.

"He'll be fine until we come back for him," Fraser assured him.

"Works for me. Hey, maybe you can teach me to drive this thing sometime? I'm thinking when it isn't a life or death situation it might be pretty fun."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later, Ray was at his desk when a call was transferred to him.

"Kowalski."

"Hello Ray, it's Constable Benton Fraser."

"Fraser! So they do have phones in Canada. Hey, how'd the case go?"

"Gerard pled guilty. It looks as if the project will be shut down, as it should be."

"And you're back home, so all is right with the world."

"Not exactly. It appears that after my testimony I'm not very welcome here. I'm being transferred."

"What's farther in the boonies than where you are?" Ray teased.

"Actually, I'm returning to Chicago."

"You're telling me they're going to stick you in Chicago because they're too embarrassed to admit that they're anything but perfect?"

"They stated that my skills would best be utilized there."

"That's a load of bull, and don't tell me you don't think the same thing," Ray replied, snorting derisively. "They just want you out of the way. It isn't right."

"Whether it's right or not, I'm assigned to the Consulate until further notice."

"Jeez, Fraser, I'm sorry," Ray said with a sigh. "Seeing you at your father's cabin was impressive – you belong up north."

"What about you, Ray? Will you be taking another undercover assignment now?"

"Nah. Welsh thinks I've been under too many times, says I need time to adjust, remember who I am. He wants me to 'get in touch with my inner Kowalski'." He shrugged. "Works for me, as long as I don't get partnered with some idiot."

There was a pause. "Does the Lieutenant have someone in mind?"

"There isn't anybody right now, so I'll probably be bounced around to whoever needs help, which kind of sucks, but that's how it goes."

"Do you think he might be open to an alternate suggestion?"

"Like what?"

"Well, part of my consular duties entail liaising with local law enforcement."

Ray sat up at that. "You want to partner with me?"

"I thought we worked well together. But I would understand if you'd rather not, of course."

Ray grinned. "No rather nots about it, Benton-buddy. I thought we made a pretty good team, too. Let me go spring the idea on Welsh now while the fact that I really can play nice when I have the right partner is still fresh in his mind."

"I'll see you soon, Ray," Fraser replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser turned toward Diefenbaker as he hung up the phone. "Well, at least we'll have a friend when we get there. It's a good start." He started for the door, gesturing for Dief to follow. Dief ignored him, head on his paws. "I'm not carrying you. Honestly, you're taking this injury too far. It's embarrassing." Dief whined softly, and Fraser sighed as he went over to pick up the half-wolf.

"Fine. But don't get used to it." Dief whuffed. "No, I don't think Ray will carry you in Chicago." Fraser shook his head. "You pay and pay and pay…"

 

Episode 1.01: Free Willie

"Thank you again for coming to see the apartment, Ray," Fraser said to Ray as they walked toward what would hopefully be Fraser's new home.

"What are friends for? Besides, I kind of felt bad after giving you a bum lead."

"You mean the opening in your building? You aren't to blame for that, Ray. I think I was a bit too forthcoming with your landlady regarding Diefenbaker's heritage."

Ray chuckled. "Yeah, having a wolf in the building would freak her out all right. And hey, that explains the strange looks she's been giving me all week. She's been staring at me funny, all intent, whenever I pass her in the hall." He laughed. "I bet she's checking me for bite marks!"

"Diefenbaker would never bite you, Ray. He has a great deal of respect for the law and those who work to maintain it."

"Yeah, well she doesn't know that. I can't wait to see what she does next full moon." He rubbed his hands together and reached down to pet Dief as he looped around them. "Think the mutt'll teach me how to howl if I ask?"

Dief sneezed, Fraser glared, and Ray did his level best not to grin at the exchange. "Please don't encourage him, Ray."

"Spoilsport. So what I don't quite get is why somebody who's as used to being on his own as you needs help finding a place."

"I don't have a lot of experience in obtaining housing."

"What, it's always supplied for you? Or do you just build it yourself?"

"Housing is supplied in the more remote outposts, yes." Fraser stopped in front of a run-down building and nodded. "This is the place."

Ray whistled. "You sure do like to live dangerously."

"Nonsense, Ray. It's a bit dilapidated, perhaps, but Diefenbaker and I will be fine." Fraser looked down at himself and frowned. "Do you think I should have worn my uniform, Ray?"

"Nah. Would've just freaked everybody out. Start off in civvies, work up to the whole Big Red thing."

"If you say so. I just want to make a good first impression."

"Believe me, Fraser – you'll make an impression."

The landlord, Dennis, met them at the door and they started up the stairs. Ray walked a few steps behind, watching Fraser greet each person at the door; each time the door was shut in his face. He moved up and nudged Fraser's shoulder. "So I thought you'd never been here before."

"I haven't."

"Then how do you know who everybody is?"

"I memorized their names from the mailboxes," Fraser replied, matter-of-fact.

"Whoa. You're like the Canadian Keyser Soze."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Never mind. It's just, look, knowing who everybody is before you've even moved in? That's a little creepy there, Fraser."

"I'm merely trying to be a good neighbor, Ray."

"Well, what you call good neighbor, they call stalker material. Trust me, you're trying too hard."

"So what do you think, Ray?" Fraser asked as they entered the apartment. "And please, I'd like your honest opinion."

Ray turned around slowly to give the room a good look before answering. "This place isn't so bad, I guess – reminds me a little of Stella and me's first apartment. She was still in law school, and I was just starting out, so money was not a thing we had. Her parents were freaked, hated me even more if that's possible, but we liked it okay. Kept it clean, and had okay neighbors."

"Stella is your ex-wife?"

Ray gave Fraser a forced smile. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize she was a painful subject."

"Hey, I brought her up – not your fault. We were together a long time, is all. A lot longer than we've been divorced – it just catches me by surprise sometimes."

"You still love her."

Ray shrugged. "Probably always will." Ray was quiet, then shook himself to rid himself of his mood. "Come on - let's take the rest of the grand tour, see if this is where you want to be."

Fraser looked like he wanted to say something to Ray, but he let the change of subject go, for which Ray was grateful.

"If you're serious about taking the place, I can come by and help you fix it up," Ray remarked as he opened and then quickly shut the refrigerator.

"A fresh coat of paint would make the place homier."

Ray snorted at that. "You do not want to see me paint, Fraser – neatness is not one of my virtues."

"I hadn't noticed," Fraser replied, deadpan.

"Anyhow, I meant I could help minimize the chance of this place burning down." He gestured toward the stove and refrigerator. "These things look like fire hazards to me." Dennis started to protest, but stopped at a glare from Ray. "I'm better with cars, but I know my way around appliances pretty good."

"I'd appreciate that, Ray." Fraser went to negotiate move-in terms with Dennis while Ray gave the sink a closer look. Dief whuffed at them and Ray opened the window to the fire escape to let him out.

"So, it looks like you have yourself an apartment," Ray said as they walked out of the building.

"It does indeed," Fraser replied, then both men stopped as they heard a cry for help coming from down the street. Fraser immediately ran toward the voice, not waiting to see if Ray was following.

Ray shook his head. "Welcome to the neighborhood," he grumbled, and raced down the stairs to follow them. By the time Ray caught up, Fraser and Dief were standing at the entrance to a building, and Ray could see someone running off into the distance.

"What were you thinking running after the guy like that?" he demanded.

"I was thinking someone needed my help, Ray," Fraser replied, perfectly reasonably. It only served to agitate Ray, who started pacing around Fraser.

"You didn't even wait for me, Fraser!" He stopped to stare at the handkerchief-wrapped gun Fraser pulled out of his pocket. "Where did you get that? It isn't yours."

"No, of course not. The young man who had it gave it to me before I let him go."

"You let him go?" That started Ray pacing again, waving his arms as he spoke. "What, he just handed the gun over, or did you have to talk him down?"

"He was very young, Ray, and very frightened. He didn't try to fire at me." He looked off in the direction the boy had run. "He even returned the purse he'd taken and apologized. I'd say it all turned out well."

Ray gaped at him. "Turned out well? He could have shot you! Do you even have your gun with you?"

Fraser put the gun back in his pocket. "It wouldn't have mattered in any case. My gun isn't loaded."

That stopped Ray in mid-stride. "What?"

"My gun isn't loaded," he repeated.

Ray cocked his head and squinted at Fraser. "Why the hell not?"

"I don't have a permit. It's illegal for me to carry a loaded weapon in the States."

Ray looked down at the ground for a very long time, trying to hold onto what little calm he still had. "When were you planning on telling me this?" He glared at Fraser as he spoke, torn between anger and worry. "You're gonna be my partner. I should know stuff like this."

"I didn't know you'd feel so strongly about it."

Ray gaped at that. "You may not have noticed, but I'm kind of attached to my skin just the way it is. I do not want holes shot in it."

"I didn't have a gun while we were tracking Gerard."

"And that neither of us got shot was dumb luck." Ray grabbed Fraser's arm. "You and me, we're going to the station right now to get you the paperwork you need to carry a gun."

"I'm not sure it's necessary."

"That's because you haven't lived here long enough. Come on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dief abandoned them and started toward the break room as soon as they walked in the bullpen. Fraser frowned as he watched him go, torn between continuing to follow Ray and getting Dief away from the snack foods. He was distracted enough that he nearly ran into Ray, who had stopped walking as a someone called out to him.

"Hey, Kowalski, who's your boyfriend?"

"Jealous, Gardino?" Ray growled back. "'Cause I can make room on my dance card for both of you." Fraser watched the two men glare at one another and was about to intervene when Ray grinned and put an arm over Fraser's shoulder to guide him.

"Constable Benton Fraser," he said as they approached the agitator, "this is Louis Gardino. He pretends to work here as a detective, but mostly he's our comic relief. And this poor schmuck is Jack Huey. Jack got stuck partnering with this bozo."

"Who are you calling a bozo?" Gardino interjected before Fraser could even say hello. "And hey, at least I have a partner."

Ray put a hand over his heart and staggered back a step. "Ooh, that one hurt. Or it would have, if you weren't so wrong. Fraser here is my partner. Came all the way from Canada just to work with me."

Gardino looked unimpressed. "What – they had to import somebody from a whole other country? That's some great rep you have there, Ray."

"Shut it, Lou."

"Make me."

Detective Huey pulled Fraser aside as the argument started to become physical, comically so, each man trying to get the other into a headlock and rub his head with his fist.

"When they get like this, it's best to just get out of their way and let them get it out of their systems," Huey explained.

"So they aren't serious?"

Huey snorted. "Those two? Never, if they can help it." He looked at Fraser more closely. "Are you really Ray's new partner?"

Fraser nodded. "I am indeed, at least when I can be. My official title is Deputy Liaison Officer for the Canadian Consulate."

Huey snapped his fingers. "I knew I recognized you! You were here about a month ago, right?"

"Yes, I was."

Huey smiled. "I thought so. You were wearing your uniform then – that's what threw me off, but I never forget a face. Ray told us about the case, after. That was some nice police work."

"Thank you kindly."

Huey looked over Fraser's shoulder and he turned his head as well, just in time to see Ray knock Gardino to the floor. Both men were grinning wildly, but to Fraser it looked like things could easily get out of hand. Huey apparently felt the same way. "Hey you two – that's enough." He walked over and separated them, reaching a hand down to help Gardino stand. "Come on, cut it out before the Lieutenant sees. Remember what happened the last time he caught you two horsing around?"

Ray jumped up at that and brushed himself off, still grinning. "Come on, Fraser – we can pick up that paperwork, and drop the piece you have at evidence." He held up his hands as Fraser started to protest. "Just in case. I'm not saying the kid you saw did anything, but either way it isn't your gun and it needs to be turned in."

At a look from Gardino, Ray explained, "Fraser got a gun off some kid today in his new neighborhood."

Fraser pulled it out of his jacket pocket and unwrapped it carefully. Huey and Gardino looked at each other, then at Fraser. "You got this off of some kid today?" Gardino asked.

"Yes. I don't think he ever meant to fire it. He handed it over without much fuss."

"And you just let him go." Huey confirmed.

"I already gave him shit about that, Huey," Ray answered.

"What did the kid look like?"

"Well, he was approximately this tall," Fraser held up a hand, "I'd say perhaps twelve years old, on the thin side, African-American, with a skin tone similar to yours, Detective Huey. He seemed very nervous, but that could have been due to the chase. And he's in good physical condition – he was hardly winded when I caught up with him."

"That's a pretty thorough description."

Fraser raised his eyebrows. "Well, I did get a good look at him."

"Yeah, while you were using your Canadian powers of persuasion to talk him out of shooting you. Hooray for multi-tasking." Ray leaned in toward Gardino. "So what's got you so interested in this?"

"We've been looking for a gun just like that, and Fraser's description jibes with one we have from a witness. If we can get usable prints and they match the guy Fraser saw, he's going down for a long time."

Huey put on a glove and picked up the gun. "I'm going to take this to forensics. If we don't have your prints on file you need to get that done, Fraser."

Gardino followed behind, stopping to clap Ray on the shoulder as he passed. "Thanks, Ray – if this pans out, I owe you one."

"Detective Huey," Fraser called out, and Huey stopped. Fraser walked up to him and pulled a card out of his wallet. "If you find him, would you please let me know? I can be reached at the Consulate."

Huey took the card and put it in his jacket pocket with a nod. "Sure thing. It'll help us ID the guy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser and Ray were leaving as Elaine and her roommate Frannie were coming in. As usual, Fraser was super-polite, taking off his hat and holding the door for them. "Thanks, Fraser," Elaine said with a smile as she and Frannie walked in. Out of the corner of her eye, Elaine could see Frannie trying not to stare, and Elaine grabbed her arm to pull her into the station.

Frannie contained herself until they got inside, looking back toward the door and fanning herself. "Oh my God, Elaine, that's the guy you were telling me about? You have to introduce me to him."

Elaine gave her a dubious look. "How am I supposed to do that? I've barely met him."

Frannie slapped Elaine's arm lightly as they walked. "Come on, Elaine, this is important. The lives of my future children are at stake here."

That stopped Elaine in her tracks. "Your future children? I'm pretty sure I saw him first."

Frannie waved that off. "Yeah, but you've got a career to think about. You don't have time for kids right now."

"Weren't you thinking about being a cop too? Following in big brother's footsteps?" She put her hands on her hips. "Don't tell me I put in a good word with Welsh for nothing."

"No waste of time – this will give me a chance to get to know him better – it's perfect! And I'll settle for being a cop's wife… as long as he's the cop." She linked arms with Elaine as they walked toward the bullpen. "So now we go in and I make nice with the Lieutenant, and tonight you need to tell me everything you know about Benton Fraser."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray was silent until they got in the car, but the tension was palpable. It wasn't until he pulled onto the street that he spoke. "What was that all about?"

"What was what all about, Ray?" Fraser replied.

"You giving your card to Huey."

"I don't believe the boy I saw is capable of shooting anyone. He didn't even know to take the safety off."

"Just because you and Dief freaked him out today doesn't mean he didn't do it."

Fraser crossed his arms. "And it doesn't mean he did."

"He's a thief."

"That doesn't make him an attempted murderer."

Ray glared out the driver's side window and Fraser out the passenger side. Dief watched them both from the back seat, head on his paws.

When Ray stopped in front of the Consulate Fraser got out, then moved the seat for Diefenbaker. "Thank you kindly for the ride, Ray."

Ray nodded. "If I hear anything, I'll call, okay?"

Fraser smiled at that and nodded. "Okay."

Late that afternoon, Ray tried calling, but was told Fraser was "unable to come to the phone right now." Growling, he drove over to find Fraser standing guard duty. "Of course you are. What else would you be doing when I actually need you to come with me. Is there any way to get someone else to cover for you?" He got no response. "Never mind, I'm gonna go in there and have a talk with whoever thinks you doing this is a good idea." He turned to go but was stopped by Fraser's hand on his arm.

"That won't be necessary, Ray."

"You decide to stop with the freeze tag?"

Fraser shrugged. "It's the end of my shift. I take it you've found something."

Ray shook his head. "Not me – ballistics. Looks like that gun was the one Huey and Louis were looking for. They were going after your kid when I left."

Fraser nodded. "Let me just get Diefenbaker. Thank you, Ray."

When they got to the station Ray distracted Gardino so that Fraser could slip in and see the boy, Willie Lambert. Fraser talked with him while Ray and the others watched through the glass.

When he left the room, the others met him, Huey and Gardino angry, Ray thoughtful. "What was that all about? We have this kid dead to rights. Why would you go in like that and tell him you'll try to help him?" Gardino demanded.

"Because I don't believe that boy shot anyone. While I don't think he's been completely honest, that much I think is the truth."

Gardino rolled his eyes. "Give me a break."

"I'm with Fraser on this one," Ray chimed in.

They all turned to look at Ray, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Look, Louis, I know the evidence is against him, but I've known enough kids like him to know when somebody's being played, and he ain't playing, not with the shooting stuff. He's a thief, but it's all small stuff. He's just lucky he hasn't gotten in over his head sooner than this."

Gardino shook his head and walked away, Huey following. They stopped a few feet away, talking quietly.

"Thank you, Ray," Fraser said.

"For what?"

"For looking beyond the facts. For trusting my judgment."

Ray smiled. "What are partners for?"

The two detectives returned, determined looks on their faces. "This isn't your case, Ray," Huey stated. "It's not your call."

Ray crossed his arms. "Then we need to go to Welsh and see what he has to say about it."

It took a little verbal tap-dancing, but Ray and Fraser convinced the Lieutenant to let them follow up on their hunch. Of course, it wasn't quite that easy.

"Constable," Welsh called out as they were leaving the Lieutenant's office. Fraser turned around and Welsh gave him a steady look. "I don't really have any way to impress upon you the seriousness of this situation, as you aren't under my jurisdiction. However, I can and will make sure that Detective Kowalski bears the brunt of my displeasure should this case happen to fall apart."

Fraser nodded. "Understood, sir."

Before leaving the station, Ray and Fraser had Willie describe the woman he'd taken the bag from, on the off chance it turned up someone in the police database. Once they left, Willie tried to slip away more than once, but between the three of them Ray, Dief and Fraser were able to keep track of him while they searched for the bag he alleged he'd stolen.

Several hours and a lot of searching later, Ray found himself paying a homeless woman for the bag she'd found wherever it was Willie had stashed it. It turned out he'd at least been honest about the bag – it was full of bonds from the bank job Huey and Gardino had been investigating. Only, something was off. "I don't think these are the real deal, Fraser."

Fraser examined one more closely. "I believe you're right, Ray. In which case things just got a lot more complicated. I think a trip to the bank where the bonds were allegedly stolen is in order."

Ray sighed and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. "Well, we aren't going to find out anything else tonight." He looked at Willie, who was roughhousing with Dief. "You want he should stay at my place?"

"That won't be necessary, Ray. I'm sure Willie and I will do fine at my new apartment."

Ray leaned in. "You sure about that – it'd be no trouble."

"I'm sure, Ray. Between Diefenbaker and myself we'll be able to protect him."

Willie stood up at that. "Make sure I don't run, you mean."

Fraser shook his head. "We'll make sure that you're safe, Willie. Whoever stole those bonds will no doubt be looking for them, and by extension for you. We think it best if you stay with Diefenbaker and I tonight."

Dief woofed in agreement, and Willie ruffled his fur. "Okay, but just for tonight."

Ray nodded. "It's settled. But before we split up for the night, how about we grab a bite at the diner we passed on the way here – I know you don't have anything at your place, and I'm not too sure what I have won't put up a fight."

"I'm afraid all I have is Canadian currency, Ray."

"Ray sighed and checked his wallet. "I can cover it."

"Thank you kindly."

After dinner, Ray dropped Fraser, Dief and Willie off at Fraser's building, eyeing the building dubiously. "You're sure this is the safest place?"

"Well be fine, Ray. We'll see you in the morning."

Ray shook his head as he gave the building one more look. "I'll be here early."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They got settled in without too much trouble, Fraser having Willie help with clean up and getting a sleeping space ready for his unexpected overnight guest. "You know," Fraser said, "Dief seems to have taken quite a liking to you. Once this is all settled, perhaps you could visit."

Willie shrugged. "Yeah, maybe."

"I could use some help with him, actually. There are times when his presence wouldn't be quite accepted. Perhaps we could come to some sort of agreement, you walking him, feeding him, that kind of thing."

Willie gave him a sidelong glance that Fraser pretended not to notice. "You'd trust me to do that?"

"I wouldn't suggest it otherwise."

Willie moved to sit next to Dief and started to pet him; Dief obligingly laid his head on Willie's lap, shamelessly nudging his hand if he stopped. "I could probably help some," he finally said. "As long as I don't have anything better to do, you understand."

"Of course," Fraser agreed with a smile.

"And you'd have to pay me with real money, not that pink and blue play stuff you carry."

Fraser did his best to look serious as he replied. "Understood."

Ray was as good as his word, showing up early with coffee for himself and Fraser, and milk for Willie, who looked at it disdainfully and offered to trade Fraser for his coffee. "I don't think so," Ray cut in. "No way are we starting you on the hard stuff this early. Beside, it'll go good with the donuts I have stashed in the car."

They ate on the way, Willie sneaking Dief pieces of donut when he thought the others weren't looking.

"Hey, kid, looks like that description you gave panned out," Ray said between bites. He turned to Fraser. "Elaine called while I was on my way here and gave us a name – Carol Morgan, alias Morgan Thomas. She's been arrested three times in Florida for armed robbery, convicted once."

"You see," Willie said with a nod. "I told you it wasn't me."

"We never thought it was, Willie," Fraser replied. "And with your help the true criminal will be found. You should be very proud. Did Elaine give us any more information, Ray?"

"Only that I was supposed to tell you hello."

"That's very kind of her to think of me."

Ray snorted. "Kind my foot. She's hoping you'll ask her out."

"Oh, dear."

"What, she not your type?"

"I barely know the young lady, Ray."

"Well, she's all set to get to know you better, so if you aren't interested you'd better watch out next time you're at the station."

Once at the bank, Fraser made sure Dief stayed with Willie. "And don't think I won't be having you take an extra long run tonight to work off your ill-gotten gains."

Dief barked once. "There's no call taking that tone with me. Just because you aren't concerned about your health doesn't mean I'll let your poor dietary choices go unnoticed. You'll thank me for this one day." Dief turned away and Fraser closed the car door, disgusted.

"You argue with the wolf a lot, Fraser?" Ray asked as they walked toward the bank.

"On this particular subject, yes. The food items vary, but if there's a bad choice to be made he seems determined to do so."

Ray chuckled. "Better him than me."

Fraser looked at Ray as they walked. "Ray, you said earlier that you've known boys like Willie."

Ray nodded. "Yeah, I used to help out over at a gym. Boxing basics, sparring, that kind of thing. Nothing major – wasn't like I was a Big Brother or anything, just hung out, shot the breeze, let the kids know there was at least one cop out there that wasn't out to get them."

"Why did you stop going?"

"Didn't have much of a choice. I started getting pulled for undercover gigs, and there went any normal life I might've had. I couldn't be there when I was under without risking the kids, and no way would I do that. So instead I had to pretty much disappear." Ray shrugged. "I still think about some of them, wonder how they're doing."

"Why haven't you gone back?"

"I figure I've lost the right to know what's going on. I ditched them – no way are they gonna believe I really care."

"You never know until you try, Ray. As you're not going to be undercover again in the foreseeable future, perhaps this is the time to reconnect with parts of your life that you've missed."

Ray rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe. If this lead doesn't pan out I may have to see if the gym's hiring. Welsh really wasn't happy about the lead we're following. If it turns out we're wrong..."

"It won't be your fault, Ray. I'm sure the lieutenant will understand."

"Like your bosses in Canada understood with Gerard?"

Fraser pulled at his collar. "When you put it that way, I see your point." Ray went to open the door and enter the building, but Fraser held him back so an elderly woman could go in first. "After you, ma'am,"

Ray rolled his eyes as Fraser let in several more people. "Fraser, I get the polite thing in your daily life and all, but we're working here. Could we maybe put a limit on the number of people you're nice to in a day when we're on a case?"

"It only takes an extra second to be courteous, Ray."

Ray moved past Fraser to go inside. "Yeah, well one day that extra second is gonna come back and bite you on the ass."

Fortunately, going back to the bank did pan out. Ray and Fraser were talking with Hamlin, trying to get more information, when Hamlin let it slip that he knew the thief was a woman. Ray latched onto that immediately, and a quick look at Fraser let him know he'd heard it, too. Up until then, all the witnesses, Hamlin included, had said the thief was male.

Ray hid his reaction to Hamlin's mistake as best he could and ended the interview, anxious to get Fraser outside to talk over what they'd heard.

They exited the building to see Willie driving away in Ray's car, the window blown out and several men in pursuit, one wielding a crowbar. Left without a vehicle, Fraser commandeered the nearest thing – a horse-drawn carriage. One wild ride through the park later and they'd run off the men chasing Willie, but the boy was nowhere to be found. Ray shook his head in disgust and called the station, not at all looking forward to the reaction he knew he would get.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things were worse by the time Ray and Fraser got to the station. Hamlin had disappeared before Huey or Gardino could pick him up, and Lieutenant Welsh was less than pleased.

"I'm still convinced that he had nothing to do with the stolen bonds, Lieutenant," Fraser said.

"Whether he did or didn't doesn't really matter right now, Constable. What matters is that he's gone. And that Ray was responsible for keeping that from happening."

"We'll find him, sir," Ray chimed in. "You got my word."

"I already had his assurances," Welsh said, gesturing toward Fraser. "What makes yours any better?"

"It's my badge on the line," Ray responded, then turned to Fraser. "Come on, Fraser – we got a kid to find and a case to solve."

Gardino stopped them as they were leaving the bullpen. "I hear anything about the kid, I'll let you know."

Ray smiled tightly and nodded. "Thanks, Lou. You know we'll get this done."

Gardino smiled wryly. "You better. I don't want to have to help you pack up all your crap. Or keep Jack from kicking your ass."

"He's a good friend," Fraser observed as they left.

"Who, Gardino? Yeah, we trained together. Hadn't seen him for a few years before I made detective, but he's one of those guys you can not see forever and then when you do see him it's like no time's passed. We give each other a lot of shit, but he's an okay guy and a decent cop. But if you tell him I said that I'll deny it, you got me?"

Fraser nodded, the serious look on his face belied by the smile he couldn't quite hide. "Of course, Ray."

They got to the car and started back toward the bank, hoping to find something they must have missed that would lead them to Hamlin or Morgan. "I just don't get how the bonds ever left the building," Ray complained as he drove. "There's no way they could've, based on the tapes and witness statements."

"I've been thinking about that, Ray. It seems to me that if I were Hamlin, I don't know that I'd trust that I'd be given my share later. My father taught me, well he taught me several things, but relevant to this is that he told me there is rarely honor among thieves."

"So, if Hamlin didn't trust his buddies, how did he get the bonds out without being noticed?"

"I believe he used the courier."

Ray nodded. "That actually makes sense. But he couldn't have sent it to himself – too easy to trace."

"And he didn't trust Ms. Morgan enough to send it to her."

Ray scratched the back of his neck. "Okay, so he can't send them home, or to his accomplices. Hell, he can't send them anywhere that could trace them back to him."

"He could use a fictitious name and address."

Ray nodded. "Yeah, he could, which would mean they'd end up at -"

They turned to face each other and spoke simultaneously. "The depot!"

Ray banged the steering wheel with his hand. "Then I'm goin' the wrong way. Hang on."

Their hunch was right on the money. Fraser was able to subdue Hamlin, and left Dief to watch over him. Ray took out another one of the men after a brief struggle, then went looking for Morgan. He found a trail of bonds and was picking them up when he heard the distinctive sound of a gun being readied to fire. He got up slowly after laying his gun down.

When Fraser came up on them, Morgan had Ray and was pressing the gun into his neck, ready to shoot.

She nodded at Fraser, who held his hands away from his sides, showing he was obviously unarmed. "Move over here – slowly, mind you – and pick up the bonds."

Fraser hesitated. "You don't want me to do that, Ms. Morgan."

"I'd believe him, lady," Ray chimed in, then grunted as she tightened her grip.

"Why's that? What will he do?"

"Hell if I know," Ray replied. "But if he says it, he means it."

She snorted. "That's the best you can do to convince me?" She turned her attention back to Fraser. "Go on – pick them up."

Ray sighed. "Big mistake."

"He's correct," Fraser agreed. "You see, these aren't just pieces of paper. They're an instrument of trust, an indication of a promise that must be honored. And as an officer of the law, I'm honor-bound not to give them to you."

"Well, if you don't give them to me I'm going to shoot your partner. Is your honor worth that?"

"It isn't just my honor. Ray understands that." Fraser turned to go.

"I'll give you until the count of three to change your mind!" She tensed as she started to count. Ray took advantage of her shift in focus to twist in her grasp. The gun went off but missed him completely as he wrestled her to the ground. Ray got the gun away from her and cuffed her, then glanced around to see Fraser lying on the ground. "Fraser!" he yelled as he ran over to him.

Fraser blinked up at Ray. "She shot my hat, Ray."

Ray sagged in relief. "Yeah, looks like she did. You're lucky that shot didn't go a little lower – would've messed up all the money you keep in there." Ray reached down and helped Fraser to his feet. "You're okay though, right?"

Fraser took off his hat and looked at it forlornly, sticking a finger through the bullet hole. "She shot my hat."

Ray shook his head. "So we add haticide to her list of crimes." He clapped Fraser on the shoulder. "Maybe that'll be the thing that puts her away for a long time. That was a nice move, by the way, getting her to forget about me for a second."

"It seemed the best course of action."

"Since you're unarmed and all, you mean."

"I do have a knife." Ray gave him a look, and Fraser pulled at his collar and added, "It's at my apartment right now, of course."

"Of course," Ray replied, nodding. "Where else would it be? We're filling out that paperwork once we get her booked, you know that, right?"

"I still don't think it's necessary, Ray."

"When you're the one with a gun at your neck, maybe you'll see it differently."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the station, Ray and Fraser were relieved to see Willie, who'd turned up while they'd been in pursuit of Ms. Morgan.

"Looks like you're off the hook, Kowalski," Welsh said. "For now, anyway."

"Glad to hear it, sir." He went over to Willie and sat on the edge of the desk. "So hey, we caught the guys and their ringleader. Looks like it's all over. You did good."

Willie tried for a look of indifference, but Ray saw through it. "So," he went on, "I was thinking, you ever want to learn how to box, duck and weave, how to take care of yourself without a gun, you're welcome to come with me to the gym."

"You want to teach me to fight." Willie said, obviously skeptical.

"To defend yourself, Willie," Fraser said, joining the conversation. "Ray's taught off an on for several years, I believe."

Ray nodded. "Yeah, and I'm not too bad, if I say so myself. So anyhow, if you're interested, just let Fraser know and we'll work out a time, okay?"

"Why do you want to help me?"

"Why not? You helped us out – I figure maybe that'll make us even."

Willie seemed to accept that. "Okay, maybe I will. No promises, though."

Ray smiled. "Okay, then. You two want a ride home?" Dief shuffled out from under a desk and barked. "Sorry, you three?"

"If you could take Willie home, I'd appreciate it, Ray, but Dief and I will be walking." Dief whined, and Fraser gave him a stern look. "It was your choice to eat those donuts. And no, the earlier pursuit does not exempt you from working off the rest of those calories now."

Ray chuckled and slung an arm over Willie's shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here before he figures out how many we ate and makes us work them off too."

"So, Ray," Willie asked as they walked out of the bullpen, "you figure that good deed's worth a twenty?"

 

Episode 1.05: Pizza and Promises

"Hey, Willie," Ray said as he passed the boy on the stairs leading into Fraser's building.

"Hi, Ray," Willie replied. He stopped on the stairs. "Hey, can you talk to Fraser for me?"

"Why? He making noises about stopping by your school again, giving another How To Be A Good Citizen speech?"

"Nah. It's the money thing. He keeps paying me in that Monopoly money of his. What is up with that?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "I have no idea, but you're right – he needs to stop doing it." He got out his wallet. "What did he give you – I'll trade you for real cash."

Willie smiled as he pulled out the money. "Thanks, Ray."

"No problem – he does it to me too, and I'm about as tired of it as you are." He started back up the stairs, then looked back. "See you at the gym tomorrow?"

Willie shook his head. "Test to study for, but Monday for sure."

"Can't argue with that. Good luck."

Fraser's door was open when Ray got to it, but considering he'd said hello to a couple of Fraser's neighbors within hearing distance, Ray wasn't too surprised. "Hey, let me in before you tackle me, willya?" Ray mock growled at Diefenbaker, who backed off just enough for Ray to enter.

"Hi, Ray," Fraser said, looking up from Dief's bowl.

Ray shook his head. "You really think you're gonna be able to convince him to eat kibble when there's pizza on the menu tonight?"

"You're too indulgent, Ray. His nutritional needs are better met with this than with pepperoni and cheese. He'll thank me for it."

Ray looked over at Dief, who was watching the exchange with interest. He cocked his head at Ray and then laid it on his paws, a pitiful look in his eyes. Ray chuckled. "I wouldn't be too sure of that."

Fraser glanced over at Dief. "No, I suppose he won't, but then he's an ungrateful beast. Have you already ordered?"

Ray took out his phone. "Nope. Just waiting to get here." He punched in a speed-dial number and ordered while Fraser tried unsuccessfully to convince Diefenbaker to eat his kibble.

Fraser finally gave up, giving Dief a withering glare and a disappointed shake of his head, both of which were pointedly ignored. "So what is it that's so special about this particular pizza, Ray?"

"Well for starters they're generous with the pineapple, which trust me, you will love," Ray said as he put away his cell phone. "And if they take too long to get here it's a free meal."

"Is it possible for them to get here in a reasonable amount of time?"

Ray grinned. "Probably not. But that's their fault for agreeing to come here in the first place. And the fact that they'll actually deliver here is a minor miracle. I couldn't even get Sandor's to do it, and they know I'm a cop."

"It really isn't as bad a neighborhood as you make it out to be, Ray."

"It is exactly as bad as I make it out, even if somehow you've managed to make your little corner of it more decent," Ray countered, pointing at Fraser. "How do you do that anyhow? That some kind of Mountie thing?"

"Doubtful, Ray. I'm simply used to being new, and finding ways to make the best of new surroundings."

"You get assigned to a lot of places before Chicago?"

"A fair number, I suppose. But I was thinking more along the lines of my childhood. My grandparents traveled a great deal in their work, so I moved quite a bit growing up."

"You lived with your grandparents? They were librarians, right?"

"Yes. My mother died when I was very young, and my father… my father wasn't very well-equipped to raise me on his own. He asked his parents to take me in."

"Must've been tough."

"I'm sure it was, but my father had his duty to consider."

Ray shook his head. "I meant for you. You basically lost both your parents when you were a kid."

"I wouldn't say that. My father made sure to visit when he could."

"That's not the same as being there for you."

"I assure you that I was well cared for, and I didn't feel slighted. I understood that my father had an important job to do."

"Yeah, but it shouldn't have been more important than raising his son." Ray rubbed a hand over his face. "Sorry. Look, I got no right to judge, so I'm just gonna shut up about it. And hey, maybe you had it better than me. My dad and I butted heads all the time when I was growing up – the only thing we ever agreed on was cars." He shook his head. "I'm pretty sure he thinks the one smart decision I ever made was marrying Stella – he sure as hell didn't want me to become a cop." Ray laughed bitterly. "And look at me now – Stella's gone, and the job's about all I have left."

"You have friends, Ray."

Ray shrugged. "Not so much. Hard to keep up with people when you might get pulled for a job at any time."

"We're friends," Fraser pointed out.

Ray smiled. "That's true."

Ray turned to watch the window, and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the pizza delivery car drive up. "Finally! I am dying of starvation here."

Fraser reached into his wallet, then looked at Ray. "I don't suppose I could trouble you to pay? All I have is Canadian currency, and I'm sure they won't accept it."

"The nerve of them," Ray responded sarcastically. "Good thing they're late enough for the freebie deal – I traded Willie most of my cash for what you gave him. Lucky for you both that the Bank of Kowalski accepts non-American dough." He took the money Fraser offered him. "I thought you were going to start carrying around real money."

Fraser looked offended. "This is real money."

"Real U.S. money, then. What's with the resistance? I'd get it if you'd just gotten here and hadn't had time to exchange it, but this is getting ridiculous. You afraid they're gonna take away your citizenship or something if you actually pay for your own stuff here without having to go through me?"

"That's just silly, Ray. Are you implying that I'm doing this to avoid paying for things? Do you really thing that'd I'd take advantage of our friendship like that?"

"I'm not implying anything, Fraser, except that your proper preparation sucks ass when it comes to money."

The delivery guy tried to get them to pay anyhow, saying that he'd lose his job if he came back empty-handed. Fraser was, of course, inclined to believe him, and between the two of them convinced Ray to pay, but only after he'd made sure there was plenty of pineapple on the pizza. Unfortunately, he didn't get a bite of it, as the driver was close enough to Fraser's apartment window to see his car being stolen. With a hurried command Dief was out the window, and Fraser followed, but the thief got away.

"Oh man, now I'm gonna lose my job for sure," the delivery guy moaned as he and Ray caught up. Fraser came up and clapped him heartily on the shoulder. "We'll find your car. You have my word."

"Why do you two want to help me?"

"Yeah, Fraser," Ray added, "why do we?"

"Well, it's my neighborhood, Ray. Of course I want to keep it safe, and if this happened to this young man it could happen to others. And since you ordered the pizza, I assumed you'd feel some responsibility as well."

Fraser and the driver looked at Ray expectantly, and he sighed. "Okay, let's get down to the station and give them your info." He looked at Fraser. "You coming with us, or do you need to follow Dief?"

Fraser looked in the direction Dief had gone. "I'll need to find him if I can. He won't stop until he's found the car."

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"I'm deadly serious, Ray. And it's my fault for giving him incomplete instructions in my haste to catch the vehicle." Fraser looked worried, and Ray went to him and patted his shoulder.

"He'll be fine, Fraser. That wolf may not be city-bred, but he knows his way around town. He's even got the license to prove it."

Fraser nodded. "Right you are. I'll do some searching and then meet up with you at the station, if that's all right."

"Sure, and I can help find the mutt if you haven't by then. Maybe we'll have some donuts left over as a treat for when we find him."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray took the delivery guy, Lenny Millan, to the station and got as much information from him as he could. When Fraser arrived, still without Diefenbaker, shortly after Lenny had left, Ray was working on trying to find anything that might lead them to where the car might be.

"No luck finding Dief?"

A fleeting troubled look crossed Fraser's features. "None at all. Have you found out anything?"

"Only that Lenny was pretty sure even the fact that his car was stolen wouldn't be enough to get his boss to cut him a break. And that he's going to be in trouble with more than just his boss if we don't find his car. If he loses his job, he violates his probation. He was not a happy camper when he left."

"I hope you assured him that we would do our best to help him."

"I told him we'd do what we could, but seeing how we have a wolf chasing down our best lead, I don't know how much better that made him feel."

Fraser clapped Ray's shoulder. "Well then, we need to redouble our efforts. I think we need to start back at the apartment, see if retracing our steps will help."

Ray shook his head as he followed Fraser out of the station. "Next time, we're getting take out," he told Fraser. "Sandor's does better pizza anyhow."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray stood back and watched Fraser as he followed Dief's trail with a mixture of awe and disgust. He'd seen some of Fraser's more unconventional tracking techniques before, but each time was, if possible, even more strange and sometimes downright nasty than the last. But grossed out as he was, he had to admit that it worked. Other than a little bit of a miscalculation where they were following a Lhasa Apso trail for about five minutes, Fraser was right on target, and they actually found the mutt on the lot of a used car dealership, waiting by a bright yellow Comet.

Dief barked a greeting, and Fraser knelt and ruffled his fur, murmuring praise.

"He tracked the car all the way back to the dealership. So what would he have done if we hadn't caught up with him – tracked the parts back to Detroit or Japan or wherever they came from?"

Fraser looked up at him sternly. "It isn't funny, Ray. Diefenbaker takes tracking very seriously."

"Yeah, I've seen him shadowing wild donuts at the station." Fraser gave Ray another disapproving look, and he held up his hands. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Look, you found him, so it's all good now, right?"

"Yes it is," Fraser replied as he stood. "Except for the fact that Dief is convinced this is the car."

"Well, it's the right make and model, I'll give him that," Ray responded as he looked over the car. "But Pizza Guy's car was green, and this one is yellow." He made a face. "Comets came in crap colors."

Fraser looked at the car. "Well he is colorblind, Ray, so that kind of mistake is easy enough to make. However, I do detect the odor of paint." He walked over and touched the side of the car. When he brought his hand back, the tips of his fingers were yellow. He gave Ray a look. "It's still tacky."

"So maybe he's not as off as I thought. Let's get some more info and get back to the station, check it out before we come in guns blazing." He pulled out a pad of paper and leaned in, careful not to touch the paint. "Looks like the VIN isn't gonna match, but maybe we'll get a lead off it," he said as he wrote the number down.

As it turned out, the VIN didn't match, just like Ray had remembered. But it was a legitimate number, which neither he nor Fraser could understand. Ray sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Looks like we're gonna need to do some more footwork on this, and I have enough outstandings that I'll have to ask the Lieu before we do anything else."

"Would you like me to come with you?"

"Oh yeah, definitely," Ray said. "Because I already know I'm going to want back up on this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And you think this is a case based on what evidence?" Lieutenant Welsh asked, his voice heavy with skepticism.

Ray looked at the floor and muttered, "The wolf."

"Half-wolf," Fraser corrected.

"Shut it, Fraser," Ray whispered at the look Welsh gave them.

"I thought I was here as your back up, Ray," Fraser whispered back. Ray shot him a look. "Understood," Fraser responded quietly.

"So is the wolf doing your job for you now, Kowalski?" Welsh shook his head. "You know, when I said I wanted you back here I meant as you, not channeling Dr. Doolittle."

"Actually," Fraser said, "I'm the one who does most of the translating for Diefenbaker, though Ray has been a remarkably quick study as far as picking up on Dief's physical cues."

"Of course he has," Welsh agreed mildly. "That's why he's one of our best and brightest." He looked from Ray, who seemed to be focused on trying not to fidget, to Fraser, who was having equal difficulty not pulling on his collar.

"Sir," Ray finally said, "even if the way we got the info is totally out there, I still think it's worth looking into. My gut says there's more to this, no matter how legit the dealership or the VIN numbers seem."

Welsh gave him a sharp look. "How sure are you?"

"Sure enough to tell you the wolf helped out." He paused. "I mean, come on, how many 1977 Comets are there in this part of Chicago?"

Welsh sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Okay. You two can do a little more digging. But no strong-arm stuff, nothing shady, and you report back to me if you find anything. Got it?"

"Got it," Ray replied with a grin. He slapped Fraser's arm with the back of his hand. "Come on – we've got work to do."

"Thank you, sir." Fraser nodded at Welsh before turning to follow Ray. He stopped himself just in time to keep from running into a woman he'd seen there before. He moved back quickly and started to apologize, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand.

"Like I've never been bumped into before – it's no big deal, really. You're Benton Fraser, right? I mean, how many guys in red uniforms can there be here?" The young woman smiled and held out her hand for Fraser to shake. "I'm Frannie Vecchio. Elaine's told me about you."

After a moment Fraser nodded. "Ah yes, you're her house-mate."

Her smile grew in a way that made Fraser distinctly uncomfortable. "That's me."

"Ah. Well, that seems a smart thing to do."

"Oh yeah, saves on utilities and all that. Plus, we get along great. And it was the only way Ma was gonna let me stay in Chicago – the rest of the family moved to Florida a couple of years ago, but my now ex-husband and I decided to stay. When he and I split, Ma was crazy for me to move down with them, but I like Chicago. Besides, I wanted to stay, make a life for myself, y'know? And Elaine was looking for a roommate, so it was perfect."

"It does seem like a good arrangement."

"Yeah, having Elaine agree to move in sealed the deal, especially since she's going to be a cop. Not that Ma wouldn't have preferred I find another husband, but been there, done that, no thank you." She blushed and backpedaled. "Not that I'm against men. Or marriage. It's just I didn't want to be forced to find a guy just so I could stay here."

"A completely understandable attitude" Fraser replied as he looked for Ray. Spotting him, he nodded to Frannie. "If you'll excuse me, I need to find out what updates Ray might have about the case we're working on."

"Sure, Fraser," Frannie said, smiling brightly. "Good talking with you. And hey, we might be seeing a lot of each other – with Elaine going to the Academy they're going to need another Civilian Aide here."

"Good luck. And again, it was good to meet you." Fraser quickly made his way over to Ray, who was gathering his things and putting on his jacket.

"I've gone as far as I can with this from the cop side of things. Looks like I'm gonna have to go in, see if I can get the inside scoop."

"You mean we're going to have to go in," Fraser corrected. "I'm coming with you."

Ray looked at him skeptically. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Come on, Ray. It isn't like I plan to go there in uniform and ask, 'Does anyone here know the whereabouts of a stolen lime green Comet?' or 'Any stolen cars around here?'"

"I'm sure you'd at least take off the hat first," Ray responded with a quick grin. "Okay, do you have any undercover experience?"

"Yes" Fraser replied with a nod. "When I was a young scout working on my ecology badge I insinuated myself into a hunting party in order to catch a baby seal killer."

"How'd that turn out?"

Fraser ducked his head, then answered in a rush. "I was clubbed repeatedly. But," he said with emphasis," it doesn't mean I can't do the job now."

Ray looked at Fraser watching him earnestly. "You really want to do this?" Fraser nodded once. "Even though you know it involves lying." He gave Fraser a sharp look and added, "A lot."

"Of course I do."

"And you'll be able to lie like that and make people believe it?" Fraser hesitated, then nodded again firmly. Ray sighed. "Okay then, let's go get ready."

"Lead the way. Consider me your Eliza Dolittle."

Ray stopped and gave him a wary look, then shook his head as they left the bullpen. "First stop, thrift store. You need the right clothes, and nothing I have will fit you. Then back to my place where we can work out the game plan for tomorrow."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You know," Ray said as they got out of the car in front of his building, "I've been every type of lowlife you can think of. Or at least I thought I had. But this gig may be the lowest of the low."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. Because dealers, pimps, thugs – you know where you stand with them, know not to trust them, that their job is to make somebody's life hell. But car salesmen? In theory they're decent, honest guys, so when they screw you over it's just that much worse, you know?" He clapped his hands together. "Okay, so first things first – names. I'm thinking Ray Stanley for me, and," he cocked his head to look at Fraser, "Billy Bob Fraser for you."

"Those names aren't very creative," Fraser remarked, frowning slightly.

Ray shrugged. "Job like this, you don't need fancy, you need something you can remember."

As they went over their cover stories, Ray filling in details and asking questions Fraser hadn't even thought to think of, Fraser became more and more impressed. "You're very thorough."

"I've had a lot of practice, so I know where it's easiest to get tripped up. And I don't care how easy a job looks, there's always a chance that a screw-up could get nasty."

"Did you learn all of this on your own?"

Ray shrugged. "A lot of it was on the job, yeah." He smiled, remembering. "First job I took was supposed to be real short – one or two days, nothing big, just a little info gathering-recon kind of thing. But I met my contact and everything just clicked, y'know? I was under for longer than they'd planned, but it ended up being a bigger bust, so it all worked out."

"And you enjoy it?"

"Sometimes. It's an interesting thing, figuring out how to get into somebody else's skin. And when it's going good and everybody's buying it – that's a real rush." He grinned. "There were times I'd come home from a good gig and Stella and I wouldn't leave the apartment for days." The grin faded as he went on. "That was early on, though. Not that I blame her – it's hard enough being a cop's wife, but one you can't talk to, that you don't even get to know is safe until they show up one day? That's a hard thing."

"But you kept taking the assignments."

Ray sighed. "Yeah. At first it was short jobs, no big deal. But when I took to it like a duck to water, I kind of got tagged as the undercover guy at the precinct. And it was extra money, which we needed. But the longer jobs, the riskier ones – yeah, Stella didn't like those at all."

"Did you mind them?"

"That's the kicker," Ray answered. "Because I did and I didn't. I mean, I missed Stella, my friends, all that. But while I was in the middle of it I couldn't let myself think about it – no distractions, no reminders of who I was, less chance of slipping up." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And then, when things started going bad with Stell and me, I started looking for jobs to take. Anything to get away from having to be me."

Fraser nodded. "I can see where being someone else would hold an attraction in those circumstances."

"Yeah. Still, it's kind of a scary thing, to think that pretending to be a dealer or a wheelman was better than going home and living my own life. Don't know what that says about me, but it's how it went down." He sighed again. "When we split up, I didn't have much motivation for being me, you know?"

Fraser was silent for a time. Finally, hesitantly he asked. "Would you rather be on another long-term assignment, Ray? Because I didn't mean to keep you from-"

Ray made a chopping motion to stop Fraser mid-sentence. "Trust me, Fraser. Right here, right now, it's where I want to be."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They made their way to the dealership the next morning. Ray did his best not to laugh when he saw Fraser, hair slicked back and wearing the cheap suit they'd gotten him the day before. "Okay, Billy Bob, you ready to go sell some stolen cars?"

"As ready as I can be, I suppose." He looked at Ray. "Why don't you look as ridiculous as I feel?"

"Because I'm already getting into it, feeling the groove, moving with the character. And this is the kind of thing Ray Stanley thinks is cool to wear, so I'm cool in it." He nudged Fraser with an elbow as they made their way down the stairs. "It's all in the attitude."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser tried, but if it weren't for Ray's assistance they'd never have been believed. They got to the dealership and asked to see either Tex or Tammy Markles, the owners. Luckily, Tex was available and seemed to find them amusing; because of that he was willing to give them a chance. Between the two of them they were able to sell one of the more reliable-looking vehicles on the lot, though for a lower price than Markles had stipulated.

"We're in, Fraser," Ray informed him with a smile.

Fraser shook his head. "But I thought that we had to sell it for at least $400?"

Ray held out a hand. "You can make up the difference. I know you have some American cash now. Come on, fork it over. Consider it a transaction fee for all the money exchanges I've had to do." Fraser reluctantly gave Ray the money, and they went to find Mr. Markles, who was impressed enough that he gave both Ray and Fraser jobs on the spot. Their first day's shift was short, and at the end of it, Fraser and Ray met up and traded stories. Between the two of them they got the case figured out, but still needed evidence.

They went back to Ray's apartment to plan.

"I think it would help if we had someone wanting to test drive a car that we knew," Fraser said. "They could help gather evidence from the prospective buyer's side of things. Perhaps even buy a car and see if it's stolen from them."

"Yeah, makes sense, but who do we get? Pickings are pretty slim right now – most of the guys that would be available are obviously cops, y'know?"

"What about your friend Louis?"

Ray laughed. "I can't wait to tell him you said he doesn't look like a cop." Ray held up a hand before Fraser could protest. "Just kidding. You're right, he'd be a good choice, only he and Huey are on stake-outs the next three nights, so he'll be crashed out most of the day."

"Elaine, perhaps?"

Ray considered that. "Yeah, she might work. It'd be good experience for her, too. I think she has classes today, but we can leave a message with Frannie."

Ray dialed a number and waited. "Hey, Frannie, it's Ray. Is Elaine around?" Pause. "No, well can you tell her to call me? Fraser and I are needing some help with something tomorrow is all, and I wanted to - I don't know if that's a good idea. No, it's just that you're a civilian. No, I guess I didn't know you were starting as an Aide on Monday." Ray rubbed his eyes as Frannie went on. "Well it has to do with a case. Yeah, Fraser will be there. Just a sec, Frannie." He covered the phone and lowered it as he asked, "What do you think – Frannie's even less cop-like than Elaine, and I guess she's starting at the station next week, so technically we can use her."

Fraser considered the idea. "I don't really know her, but she seems capable enough. I'm sure Lieutenant Welsh wouldn't have taken her on otherwise."

Ray nodded and brought the phone back up. "Okay, I need to clear it with the Lieu, but if he says okay then we're good to go. It shouldn't be a big deal - this isn't anything dangerous. How about I head over to your place around 6:00, brief you on what you'll be doing." He rolled his eyes. "Yes, it'll be just me – Fraser does have a regular job, you know. Yes, he'll be there tomorrow." Ray sighed. "Okay, greatness, I'll see you then."

He hung up the phone. "Okay, we have help, assuming Welsh doesn't nix it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Lieutenant was hesitant, but Ray was persuasive and he relented. "But this is not officially departmentally approved, so if anything happens you're taking the blame, Kowalski."

"Story of my life, sir," Ray replied. "It's a go, but we're on our own," he told Fraser as he hung up. "I'll take you back to the Consulate on the way to Frannie's."

The next morning Ray picked Fraser up to take them to the dealership.

"Frannie should be in some time this afternoon," Ray told him. "I can only hope she'll do this without blowing our cover."

"I'm sure you made her aware of the importance of maintaining our covers."

"Yeah, but I don't know how much she heard. I'm telling you, I think she asked me more questions about you than what she was supposed to be doing."

"Well, I am an unknown to her, Ray. It's natural that she'd want some reassurance as to my skills."

Ray snorted at that. "Skills she was interested in I got no way of confirming, B-buddy." He glanced over to see Fraser redden and fiddle with his collar, and grinned. "Don't worry – I'm sure she won't try anything in public."

Fraser wasn't any good at selling cars, which surprised Ray not at all. But he was great at showing them; he spent nearly the entire day taking prospective customers, mostly but not exclusively female, on test drives, sometimes in several different cars. Ray was pretty sure that if there was a contest for test drives instead of sales that Fraser would hold some kind of record.

The good part of this was that it gave Fraser an excuse to look at a lot of cars without raising anyone's hackles, and Ray could tell that Fraser was taking advantage of that fact, giving each vehicle a pretty good once-over before taking her out.

Ray didn't do as well attracting customers, but that didn't phase him, as it gave him more time to check out the lot itself, and subtly grill the other salesman. He might not have gotten off the lot at all that day if it hadn't been for Frannie showing up while Fraser was with another customer. Ray groaned inwardly when he saw her dressed to the nines and looking around at everything but the cars. He hurried over to her before anyone else could. As soon as he was close enough, he leaned in and whispered to her. "Aren't you a little overdressed for this, Frannie? I thought I told you to make sure not to stand out."

She rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, but I need to look like I can afford a car, right?"

"The way you're dressed, why would you need to come to this crappy place to get a car?"

"It never hurts to look your best. You should try it some time. Now shut up and show me a stupid car."

"Fine," he said, and gestured toward Lenny's Comet. "You've got an eye for quality. If you want, I can get the keys, let you take her out." She frowned at him and looked ready to argue, but he glared and she nodded.

"I am not buying this piece of crap, Ray," she stated as they drove off the lot.

"You have to – this is the one that started all this in the first place."

"I thought Fraser was going to be the one helping me," she pouted.

"Yeah, well he's been Mr. Popularity today, so you got me."

"Fine. And this is the car I have to get."

"Yep. Frannie, why are you even doing this? It can't be just to see Fraser – you've barely met the guy."

She sighed at that. "I don't know. It sounded exciting, I guess. And Elaine keeps saying how I'd be great at the police stuff, and I know a lot from what Ray's told me, but I'm not sold on it, y'know?"

"Well, if you do decide to be a cop, doing this will show that you logged some time working a case. So that could be a good thing in your favor."

They made it through the rest of the test drive making small talk, and Ray sold her the car without any fuss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After she left the lot, Frannie went home and changed into her most comfortable pajamas, took off her make-up and started dinner. Elaine got home not too long after that and the two caught up over pasta and salads. After the dishes were washed and dried, Frannie went to the freezer and got out a carton of ice cream. She raised a questioning eyebrow at Elaine, who nodded and went for the spoons.

"No bowls tonight?"

"We just did the dishes, so I'm going to say no to that," Elaine replied, handing Frannie a spoon.

They sat at the kitchen table and ate a few blissful bites before Frannie said, "You know, I was wondering… do you think Fraser's gay?"

Elaine took another bite before answering. "You think so too? Because I'm right there on that page with you."

Frannie nodded. "So what makes you think he is?"

"Well, he's been in Chicago for awhile now, right? But he's never mentioned a girl at home, or gone out on a date, which I have no doubt we'd hear about, given how the guys at the station love to talk." She tapped her spoon against the side of the carton. "And you know, it isn't like the man hasn't been given the opportunity to ask someone out. I mean, some of the women at the station have practically thrown themselves at him."

Frannie felt her face redden at that, but Elaine didn't seem to notice.

"And he has so much trouble talking to us, even if we're just being nice. It's like he doesn't know what to do with a girl, friendly or otherwise." She pointed her spoon at Frannie. "Hey, you saw him today, didn't you? How did he act?"

"He wasn't there," Frannie replied. "He had like a thousand women all wanting test drives, so Ray took me out instead." She snapped her fingers. "Hey, Fraser and Ray spend a lot of time together, don't they? Do you think…?"

Elaine laughed. "You have one active imagination, Frannie. That man has been stuck on his ex-wife for so long I don't think he'd see an opportunity, if there was one, if it came up and bit him on the ass."

Frannie grinned wickedly. "If Benton Fraser was the opportunity in question, I'd let him bite my ass in a heartbeat."

"Francesca Vecchio!" Elaine shrieked.

"Like you weren't thinking the same thing," Frannie giggled.

Elaine smiled and scooped out another spoonful of ice cream. "You know me too well."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night Fraser and Ray staked out the car, sure the thieves would be there to retrieve it. Their hunch played out; two people drove up around midnight, and Mrs. Markles got out and took the Comet. They tailed the cars to a chop shop, then back to the lot.

"Okay, so we need a plan to link them back to this. Considering the whole VIN-switching scam they have going, I bet the Markles have been covering their tracks."

"I'm not so sure both of them are involved, Ray," Fraser replied, nodding toward the now-parked car. As they watched, Tammy got out, followed not by Tex but by Gary, one of the sleazier salesmen Ray had met.

"Huh. So looks like maybe Tex isn't involved in this thing after all. I thought that Gary guy seemed dirty, but considering this place that was pretty much a given." Gary walked over and kissed Tammy, then she went into the main building. "Okay, didn't want to see that," Ray stated, making a face. "But no accounting for taste, I guess."

"So what do we do now?"

"Split up and take care of them both. I'll go after Loverboy, and you take Mrs. Robinson over there. I know you don't like it, but I saw how she looked you over this morning." He held up a hand. "I'm not saying you have to do anything, just keep her in the office while I get him out of the way."

Fraser reluctantly agreed and they went their separate ways. Fraser hoped Ray had an easier time of it than he was. It turned out Tammy had a gun, which she kept aimed at him while she finished emptying out the safe, then followed him to her car. She didn't seem particularly worried about Gary, and got into the car to leave without him, her gun still trained on Fraser the entire time. As she started to drive off, Fraser couldn't see any way of stopping her other than standing in the way of her car, which he did, and she didn't seem too concerned about that either. She would have run him over if Ray hadn't seen what was going on and used another car on the lot to crash into her and push her off course.

Fraser made sure that she wasn't injured too badly while Ray called for assistance. He pointedly refused to speak to Fraser in sentences of more than two words while they waited, stopping anything Fraser tried to say with either a fierce glare or by simply walking away to pace. When they had the scene cleaned up and it was just the two of them, Fraser was worried, and rightfully so, by the look on Ray's face. When Ray finally spoke, he was obviously furious.

"What the hell were you thinking? I mean it – I really want to know! She could have killed you, Fraser!"

"Nonsense, Ray. I knew you would be able to stop her."

Ray seemed taken aback at that. He stopped pacing and whirled to face Fraser, stunned. "No, you didn't. You did not know that at all." He ran his hands through his hair and blew out a deep breath. "She was going to kill you."

Fraser tentatively put a hand on Ray's arm. "But she didn't, Ray. I trusted you to be there, and you were."

"What if I hadn't been? What if Gary had taken me out, or I'd picked a car that wouldn't start?"

"You're in better physical condition than Gary, and you're an excellent boxer – I've seen you at the gym. And your knowledge of automobiles is extensive," Fraser countered.

"But what if I -"

Fraser shrugged. "Then we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Ray laughed weakly at that. "Okay, yeah. But listen to me, you try anything like that again and I'll kill you myself."

Fraser smiled. "Understood."

Ray slung an arm over Fraser's shoulder. "C'mon, then. We need to go let Lenny know he's still got a job. For his sake, I hope they painted the Comet a better color this time."

 

Episode 1.10: Gift of the Wheelman

The crisp December air had enough bite in it to make Fraser feel just the tiniest bit like he was in Canada. He and Dief had a mostly pleasant walk to the 27th to meet Ray for lunch and help clear up some paperwork, marred only by an argument about how an extra portion of baked goods might help Dief build up his subcutaneous fat, and if Fraser did the same they could lower the heat at the apartment, and wasn't helping the environment more important than being at optimum health? Fraser's unwavering stance in favor of a healthful diet meant that as soon as they entered the station Dief abandoned both the argument and Fraser.

Fraser rolled his eyes and sighed in disgust as he watched Dief trot away, then headed toward the bullpen. Frannie stopped Fraser as he entered, a wide smile on her face. "Hi, Fraser."

"Good afternoon, Francesca. Are you enjoying your Civilian Aide duties so far?"

Frannie snorted. "If you call being a gofer enjoyable, yeah. But there are some definite perks," she added, giving Fraser a look that made him grip the brim of his Stetson tightly in an effort not to fidget.

"Well, I'm sure the work you're doing is greatly appreciated. Ah, there's Ray. I should really go see how the case is coming along."

"Sure, Fraser. I'm supposed to be getting some files from downstairs anyhow. Oh, could you give Ray a message?"

"Of course."

"Let him know the ASA is on the way over for the Wakefield file, so he better make sure he has his i's dotted and t's crossed."

"I'll let him know," Fraser answered, a little puzzled by the intensity of the look of gratitude she gave him as she left the room.

Jack Huey stopped him midway. "Hey, Fraser – been awhile since we've seen you in here. "

"My consular duties have left me with little time to liaison lately, Jack."

"Well, it's good to see you. Hey, are we still on for Friday night? Bulls are looking hot this season."

"Yes, I'm looking forward to it. Ray's been telling me about some of the finer points of the game."

"Hearing about it and actually being there in person for a game are worlds apart. Are we meeting here?"

"I don't believe I'll have time – I have a later shift at the Consulate Friday. But Ray assures me he can pick me up and have us there in time for tick off."

"Tip off," Huey replied with a chuckle. "And knowing how Ray drives, I have no doubt you two will be there on time. Louis and I will see you then." Huey clapped Fraser on the arm as he walked off, and Fraser made his way to Ray's desk.

"You get yourself a date?" Ray asked as Fraser sat down, nodding his head in Frannie's direction.

Fraser blushed and pulled at his collar. "Francesca is just being friendly."

"Trust me, I know that look, even if it's never aimed at me by anybody. She's seeing you through wedding bouquet-colored glasses."

"Nonsense, Ray."

Ray waved a hand at him dismissively. "You're just so used to everyone going ga-ga over you that you can't see it. It's like swooning is a normal reaction for you to get."

"Does everyone see me that way, Ray?" Fraser asked, just a hint of teasing in his voice.

"Oh yeah," Ray replied with a wink and a saucy grin. "It's all of us – I've just been holding myself back."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Fraser replied, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Ray laughed at that, nudging Fraser with an elbow. "You're a freak. But hey, she's real nice, so if you're really looking for somebody to go out with, you could do a hell of a lot worse than Frannie Vecchio."

"I'm sure she's very nice. But since I'm busy with you this Friday, it doesn't really matter." Ray gave Fraser a look, but he ignored it and went on. "She did ask me to give you a message. Apparently the ASA will be by soon to pick up a file for the Wakefield case."

Ray frowned and started shuffling through the files on his desk, the teasing quality in the air suddenly gone. Ray's reaction coupled with Frannie's unwillingness to give Ray the message herself made something click.

"Ray," he began, "is the ASA stopping by your ex-wife?"

Ray found the file he was searching for and started looking through it as he answered. "Yeah. That was one of Stella's cases and she's big on doing the in person thing."

"Ah," Fraser answered, feeling awkward.

Ray looked up at that and shook his head. "Don't be all 'ah' like that. And I should probably apologize to you in advance for how she's gonna treat you."

"Me?"

Ray shrugged. "Guilt by association. She won't like you because we're partners."

"That hardly seems fair."

Ray chuckled humorlessly at that. "Yeah, well whoever called women the 'fairer sex' wasn't talking about how we get treated." He looked Fraser over appraisingly. "I could be wrong, though – maybe your Mountie charms will work on her."

"Thank you for the warning, but Ms. Kowalski's treatment of me will in no way impact my behavior toward her."

"Never thought it would, Benton buddy."

Thankfully, Ray didn't press, because to be completely honest, he was now predisposed not to like her, if for no other reason than Ray's reaction to hearing she was on her way.

Fraser knew the moment Stella Kowalski entered the room, even though he wasn't facing the entrance. Ray tensed up noticeably, his grip on his pencil tightening to the point Fraser was surprised it didn't break. But then Ray took a deep breath, and while Fraser could still see lines of tension around Ray's eyes and feel the nervous energy, he appeared calmer. Fraser had to wonder if Stella would be able to see through it like he could.

Ray kept his eyes on his work, not looking up until Stella was nearly at his desk. Fraser stood then, manners automatically taking over. She glanced at him briefly, then focused on Ray.

"Hey, Stella. How are things at work?"

"Busy," she replied.

Ray nodded, and he if heard the curtness in her tone he ignored it. "Nice of you to take the time to stop by, then." He looked over at Fraser. "This is my new partner, Constable Benton Fraser. Fraser, this is Assistant State's Attorney Stella Kowalski."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Fraser said as politely as he could.

Stella gave Fraser a closer look, then asked, one eyebrow raised, "You're Ray's partner? What's with the uniform?"

Fraser focused on not fiddling with his collar as he answered. "Ah, well, officially I work for the Canadian Consulate, and my duties as Deputy Liaison entail working with the Chicago Police Department, more specifically with Ray. You see, I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father, and –"

"That's nice," Stella interrupted, turning toward Ray. "Do you have the case file ready? I need it for a meeting this afternoon."

Ray handed her the file. "Just finished re-checking it. Everything should be there."

"I hope so," she replied, and Fraser found himself bristling at her tone and her treatment of Ray. He opened his mouth to say something supportive, but a quick look from Ray kept him quiet.

"It's all there, Stell," Ray replied calmly.

"Okay," she said with a nod. "I have to go – I'm already late for a lunch meeting." She turned to leave, then almost as an afterthought, turned back to Fraser. "Nice to meet you, Constable."

He nodded politely. "Ma'am."

She gave him an odd look, then walked away. Ray got up and followed, gesturing for Fraser to stay where he was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray caught up with Stella just outside the door and stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"Hey, Stella, I know you're swamped and all, but I thought maybe, when things calm down…. I don't know. Dinner, maybe?" He gave her a cocky grin. "I bet no one's taken you dancing in too long, and it's New Year's soon."

Stella looked away for a moment, then turned back to face him, the stern look on her face softening. "Ray," she began with a sigh, "it isn't that I don't appreciate the offer, but we both know it's a bad idea."

"C'mon, Stella. It doesn't have to be anything big. Just a night out as friends."

She shook her head. "We say that's what it will be, but it never stays that way. I'm sorry." She put a hand to his cheek for a brief caress, then left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser watched Ray come back to his desk with far less energy than he'd had before his ex-wife's visit. "So, that was Stella," he said as he sat back down. He gave Fraser a smile that seemed horribly false. "Usually she's a little nicer, but when she's in meeting mode she's kind of unstoppable."

Fraser chose his words carefully, biting his lip to keep from saying anything about it only taking an extra second to be courteous. "She seems a very capable woman."

"Yeah, she's great," Ray agreed, looking toward the door. He stayed that way for a minute, then shook himself. "Okay," he said, slapping his palms on his desk. "Where were we?"

"We were going to lunch, if you're hungry that is, and then we were going to clean up some of the paperwork from past cases that the Lieutenant has been asking about."

"Sounds good to me. But this time I get to pick the place." Ray looked around as he put on his coat. "You flying solo today? Because that opens up a lot more choices."

Fraser frowned. "Diefenbaker and I had a disagreement over his dietary choices. I suspect he's off making a glutton of himself just to spite me."

"Well then, he loses out. He should be fine here while we're out – everybody knows him. Come on – I have a craving for Gino's."

They were walking back and debating which was harder to buy holiday gifts for, a turtle or a half-wolf, when Fraser heard a fire alarm. He started toward it, Ray right behind and they got to a bank just in time to see a flurry of red and white as four Santas ran toward a car. Ray started to shout and one aimed a gun at him, then cursed when pulling the trigger did nothing. As Ray tried to shoot out their tires, Fraser saw another Santa running behind the bank, and went in pursuit. Unfortunately, he didn't catch up before the costumed man drove away. But he did see that a young man, knocked over as he left a shop, had gotten a good look at the fleeing Santa. He was making sure that the boy was unharmed as Ray caught up with him.

"They got away. Even with my glasses that would've been a tough shot. No luck for you either?" He gestured to the young man. "Who've we got here?"

"No, I'm afraid the man had a car waiting. But we do have a witness."

As the three of them started back toward the station, Fraser and Ray talked over what they'd seen. "Ray, I have to wonder – if all the tellers and customers were on the floor, who pulled the alarm?"

Ray stopped at that. "You don't think maybe a teller snuck it in before anyone saw them?"

"If it hadn't been a fire alarm that got pulled, I'd agree, but given their placement I find it unlikely."

Ray nodded. "Yeah, it'd be more work than the silent alarm by their desks. Okay, but then if not them, who? You can't think one of the robbers did it. That makes zero sense."

"Why not? How much sense did it make that one of them tried to shoot you with an unloaded gun?"

"Yeah, that was bugging me, too. Not that I'm complaining about not getting shot, but why bother trying-"

"Unless you don't know the gun isn't loaded. And you wouldn't know that-"

"If somebody gave you the gun after the alarm was pulled and you're panicky. So, what? One of them figures out a double cross, pulls the alarm, trades the gun for the cash and gets away?"

"That makes more than zero sense to me."

Ray nodded and started walking again. "Me too, especially if the one doing it was the wheelman. They wouldn't be able to watch him, so he totally could've done it." He picked up the pace. "Come on – we need to get back to the station."

When they got there, it was overflowing with Santas, all irritated at the very least, some to the point of belligerence. Anyone and everyone available was interviewing someone, including Elaine, and Frannie was trying to direct the human traffic jam and keep people calm between phone calls she had to answer. Ray and Fraser skated past her to stop by Gardino's desk as he looked to be between Santas.

"What are you and Huey doing?" Ray asked, pointing at the nearest cluster of Santas. "You get into the eggnog too early, or do you just have a need to work all the holiday shifts, because you know this isn't gonna end well."

"The guys who robbed the bank were dressed as Santas – it makes sense. If they worked close by they wouldn't have to go far, and would just blend in."

"Yeah, but dragging every guy in a red suit in here on Christmas Eve – that's just insane. I'm saying this as a friend, Louis – stop trying to arrest every Santa in town. You're gonna have not only Welsh but every parent in Chicago after you." He put a hand on Gardino's shoulder. "I'm just trying to protect you here."

"Gardino, Huey, my office now," shouted Welsh.

Ray shook his head. "Tried to warn you."

"You too, Kowalski," Welsh added, and Gardino grinned.

Fraser followed them in, all of them ignoring the glares and shouts from the angry Santas. "This is gonna give me nightmares," Ray muttered. "Bad enough I got clown issues, now they can be joined by Santa."

It looked like Ray's prediction had been correct – store owners, parents and unfortunately for Huey and Gardino, city officials had all phoned to complain about the untimely interrogations.

"But the robbers were all dressed as Santas, and if we waited they'd have changed," Gardino countered. "It makes sense."

Fraser cleared his throat. "May I suggest something?"

Welsh sighed as he nodded. "You have a North Pole connection you'll like to share, Constable?"

"The idea that the North Pole is in Canada is a common misconception. It actually-" Fraser cut off when Ray elbowed him in the ribs. '"Well, that really isn't important at the moment. What I was going to say-"

"What he was going to say," Ray cut in, "is that we think this was a double cross. That the guy we need to be looking for is the wheelman. Find him and you find the money."

"That's your theory?" They both nodded.

"And we have a witness, sir, going over mug shots right now," Gardino added.

Welsh regarded them all, then nodded. "Okay. If nothing else it will clear out the station faster and stop the calls. Kowalski, you and Fraser go after the wheelman. Huey, Gardino – you keep trying to find the other three guys."

Del Porter, their witness, was less than helpful, despite having gotten what Fraser was sure was a good look at the wheelman. But even not-so-subtle hints about what the suspect, who also got a good look at Del, might do if he was found and the police weren't there to protect him did no good. The boy took off as soon as he was able.

"I just don't get it. He was right in the wheelman's face! How could he not find him here," Ray gestured to a book of mug shots, "or even give us a good description?"

"The experience had to be unsettling, Ray. Perhaps he just needs some time."

"Yeah, well that's the one thing we don't have." Fraser knelt by the chair and picked up a package. "What's that?" Ray asked.

"He must have dropped it in his haste to leave," Fraser replied. "I think I should return it."

"Wait. I just say how we have no time and you want to go deliver presents instead of looking for the wheelman?"

"It's only right – I'm sure he'll be searching for it. And it will give me a chance to speak with him again, in less intimidating surroundings."

Ray nodded. "Okay, that makes some sense." He started to say more but Gardino came up and grabbed his arm.

"They got a print off the counter, Ray. Robert Flanigan was the bagman."

Ray winced at that. "Shit. If he was involved, that means the Donnellys are, too."

Fraser cocked his head. "The Donnellys?"

"The Donnelly brothers are two of the nastiest mothers you'd ever want to meet," Gardino answered. "And if they're involved and your theory's on the money, then the wheelman doesn't have much time left on this planet. Last guy to try to cross them ended up in bite-sized pieces."

Ray shook his head. "Which everybody who knows anything about the Donnellys knows. This doesn't make sense." Fraser cleared his throat and held up the package.

"Yeah, you go take care of that," Ray responded with a nod. "I'll see what I can come up with on this end. The deadline on finding this guy just got a lot shorter."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Fraser returned, Ray hadn't gotten any closer to finding out the identity of their missing wheelman. "Any luck on your end?"

Fraser nodded. "Yes, though Del has no idea he gave the man's identity away."

"Wait, he knows the guy?" Ray scratched the back of his neck. "Then why the hell wasn't he worried about the guy recognizing him?"

"I believe the wheelman is Del's father. That's who the gift was for."

Ray whistled. "Man, that's not good news for him. You let him know what kind of trouble his old man was in?"

"No, I didn't see any point in alarming him. His father already knows the danger he's in, so giving Del reason to worry seemed unnecessary. I merely reminded him that we were trying to help."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Okay, let's look this guy up – see if he has a record or anything we can trace to find him."

William Porter did have a record, and had even served jail time, but since his release had been a model citizen.

"I don't get it," Ray said, pointing at the computer screen. "Porter does his time, gets out early, finds his kid, works a crap job as a janitor for six years, and then what? Just snaps one day and goes back to crime?

"There has to be more to it. Even if he did decide that working within the law wasn't worth it, you've said yourself that the Donnellys' reputation precedes them. Why double cross someone you know will kill you for it?"

Elaine walked up with a piece of paper. "Here's some more on Porter for you, Ray."

Fraser was closer, so he took the paper and handed it to Ray. "Thank you kindly, Elaine. I know this is interfering with your plans to see your family tonight."

Elaine smiled warmly at him. "Thanks, Fraser. But crazy hours are part of the job, so it's better they get used to it now, y'know? And I sent Frannie ahead to keep everyone entertained, so it's all good. That said, if you two don't need anything else, I'm out the door."

Ray looked up and shook his head. "Nah, this is great – go see your folks."

"Merry Christmas, Elaine."

"Merry Christmas, both of you."

"Okay," Ray said, showing Fraser the paper as Elaine left, "it just got weirder. According to this, Porter's passport expired."

"So even if he wanted to run, his options are severely limited."

"Right. What the hell is this guy thinking?" He rubbed a tired hand over his face. "This just keeps making less and less sense. Porter gives up the straight and narrow to trick the Donnellys, knowing it's suicide. Leaves his son high and dry, even though with him missing the kid's a natural target. There's gotta be something we're just not seeing."

"Perhaps it would be wise to watch their apartment. Even if William Porter doesn't return, we can make sure Del is safe."

"Sounds like a plan," Ray said, grabbing his jacket. "You want to stop by the apartment first, change, pick up the mutt?"

"Yes, please – it is Christmas Eve, after all, and Dief would hate to be left out. And I believe I still have some coffee left, if you'd like me to whip up a thermos-full."

Ray grinned and slung an arm over Fraser's shoulder as they walked out. "Fraser, you are a man after my own heart."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While they waited in the car, Fraser leafed through one of his father's journals, as he often did on stake-outs.

"You ever find anything helpful in those old journals of your dad's, Fraser?"

"I don't know if helpful is the term I'd use. But they do help me to feel closer to him, to better understand him, how he saw himself, the duties he had."

"How many of those things did he write?"

"Close to a hundred. I've been going through them chronologically, so this is an early one." Fraser marked the age and closed the journal. "It's strange, but I feel like I'm really getting to know him now, through his writing, in a way I never did when he was alive."

"It's nice that he left them, then. Better late than not at all, right?"

"I suppose so." Fraser looked out the window for a minute, lost in thought. "Do you think we'll have any luck tonight?"

"Don't know – it seems kind of iffy to me, but it isn't like I have anywhere to be." Ray shook his head, and grinned apologetically. "That didn't come out right. I appreciate you coming along with me, I hope you know that. It's above and beyond to be on a stake-out during the holidays, and you're not even getting paid for it."

"It's all right, Ray. And I don't have anywhere better to be either." Fraser smiled and so did Ray. They sat there for a few minutes, keeping watch, the silence in the car comfortable, companionable.

"You've been a wheelman as I recall," Fraser said a few minutes later.

Ray turned to him, surprised. "I told you about that?"

"Just in passing. When we were preparing for our assignment at the used car dealership."

"Right, I remember. Yeah. It was one of my longer jobs. Wasn't so bad, as far as undercover goes. All I had to do was be on time, drive like a bat outta hell while not getting a cop's attention, and keep my mouth shut."

"Well, that certainly explains your driving. But I'm surprised you didn't find that last part difficult."

"Hardee har har. Look who's talking, Mr. I Have A Daily Word Quota To Meet. I can do quiet when I need to."

"And you liked being a wheelman."

"Wasn't a matter of liking – I wouldn't make it a second career choice if I ever give up on being a cop or anything. But I'd take that kind of job over a lot of others."

"Why?"

"Because most of the times the guys I had to deal with were whack jobs. Not that bank robbing is the sanest profession ever, but it's a different mindset. These guys are planners, like all their ducks in a row. They're predictable, to a point. I'll take predictable craziness over anything-can-happen gunrunners or drug dealers any day of the week."

Ray went to pour himself more coffee, but the thermos was empty. "Damn. Hey, can you handle this alone for a few? I need to hit the can, and see if the gas station over there has anything drinkable with caffeine."

"I'm sure I'll be fine, Ray."

"Greatness. You want anything?"

"I'm fine, thank you kindly."

"Okay, back in a few." Ray got out and shuffled quickly over to the adjacent gas station, hunched over from the cold and wind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser watched until he was safely in the building, and then went back to reading. He could almost hear his father's voice as he went along, so it took him a moment to realize he was being spoken to. He looked behind him and saw his father calmly watching him from the back seat, an expectant look on his face.

"Dad? Is that you?"

"Well, who else would it be? You seem a bit off, son."

"I think that's a fair assessment. You are still dead, aren't you?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I am."

"All right, then." Fraser continued to stare, and his father leaned forward to poke at the journal.

"Smart of you to go through these, but I don't think the Dalton case has much to do with what's going on."

"No I suppose it doesn't and does insanity run in our family?"

"Of course not. We Frasers are fit as fiddles, mind and body. Well, there's your Uncle Tiberius on your mother's side, but he was an isolated incident. Still, I'd avoid cabbages, just in case."

"Good to know."

"What's good to know?" Ray asked as he opened the door and Fraser jumped.

"Nothing, Ray. I was just contemplating something I'd read."

"Okay. Hey, you want some more coffee? I got extra, just in case. Didn't even put the chocolate in yet."

Fraser gave a sidelong glance to the backseat, then looked back at Ray and shook his head. "I appreciate the thought, Ray, but I think I should stick with tea from now on." He shot another glance toward the back. "I don't think that coffee agrees with me."

Ray just shrugged as he took off the lid and started dropping in M&Ms. "Okay, whatever. Anything happen while I was gone?"

"In what sense?" Fraser asked, startled.

Ray pointed to the window. "In the sense that there's a light on in that abandoned building." Ray opened his door to get out and Fraser followed suit, telling Dief to stay where he was.

Two men came into the alley between buildings, and as soon as they saw Ray and Fraser they raised their guns and began firing. A nearby car became their safe haven, and Fraser wished he'd told his father to stay with Dief, as he started in on a lecture as soon as he learned Fraser didn't carry a gun.

"Violence begets violence," Fraser explained. "If I'm not armed, there's a greater chance that the conflict can be resolved in a non-violent fashion."

"There's also a greater chance you'll be shot."

"That is an alternative, yes, but not the one upon which I choose to dwell."

Ray looked at him between shots, confused. "What was that? Were you even talking to me?"

"No, Ray."

Ray got up to fire again, then ducked back down. "Why do I feel like there's another conversation going on? Or are you just talking in some crazy Canadian kind of code I don't know? Because I have to tell you, this is worse than when you argue with the wolf."

"There is another conversation," Fraser admitted. They both ducked at the sound of another gunshot. "But now isn't the best time to explain." He hefted a rock, and between Ray firing and his throwing, they fended off both men, though they weren't able to stop them from escaping.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They took Del back to the station again, but no matter what they said, he still wouldn't help them find his father. Or couldn't – Ray wasn't sure which it was, and he was getting to the point where he didn't care. He felt for the kid, but that only went so far. He pulled Fraser aside. "Look, I can't do this sympathy thing much longer. Good cop-good cop isn't getting us anywhere, and we're running out of time." He could see Fraser wanting to fight him on it, but he only nodded, and Ray let Del go.

As Del went to check out with the clerk, Fraser turned to Ray. "I assume we're following him."

Ray nodded. "Not much choice. We need his help, and if he won't give it to us willingly, in this case we have to take it. His dad's in way over his head, whether the kid realizes it or not." He started toward the door. "You coming?"

Fraser started to say something, then got a strange look on his face and replied, "I'll be out in just a minute. I have someone – that is, there's something I need to take care of first." He darted a look to his side, and Ray followed his glance but there was nothing there.

"Okay, see you at the car."

He hadn't been there more than a minute when Fraser appeared, hurried and more unnerved than Ray had ever seen him. He nearly leapt into Ray's car. "Drive, Ray," was all he said, so Ray did, watching Fraser as he kept looking behind them.

After they were a few blocks away and Fraser seemed to have settled somewhat, Ray figured it was safe to ask, "So what was that about? Somebody after you?"

"My father. He's been driving me crazy since he appeared during the stake out."

"Your dead dad, the one you came to Chicago to solve the murder for?"

"That would be him, yes."

"Is this some kind of Ghost of Christmas Past thing? Are you somehow Canada's version of Scrooge?"

"I have no idea why he's here, or why he's chosen now to make his presence known. And I know this sounds insane. In fact, I'm not ruling out insanity as a reason. I'm told it doesn't run in the family, but given the source," Fraser glanced at the backseat, "I don't know how reliable that information actually is."

"Well if it looks like a duck and walks like a duck," Ray started with a grin, which faded as he saw the stricken look in Fraser's eyes. "Hey, I'm kidding. What's that quote? There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio?"

"Than are dreamt of in your philosophy," Fraser finished, relaxing the tiniest bit. "But you have to admit it's extremely unusual."

"Which actually makes it pretty normal for you," Ray responded matter-of-factly.

"Thank you, Ray," Fraser answered with a small smile.

"De nada." He settled back in and kept driving, then had to ask. "So if he first appeared in the car, and he's a ghost so probably rules of coming and going are no big deal for him, why am I driving away?"

"It's symbolic, Ray."

"Okay. Normally, I could live with that, but it's gonna be hard to tail Del if we're not there to see him leave, so I'm turning around."

"Right. Of course – I shouldn't have had you leave in the first place."

"No big. You saw a ghost, you got a little weirded out – it happens."

They kept going in silence, then Fraser remarked, "Apparently, he's in agreement with you in regards to my stance on firearms."

"You mean he thinks you're nuts for not carrying, too?"

"More or less. That was the argument you heard earlier."

"Well, if you see him again tell him I'd high five him for that if I knew where he was." Ray shot him a look. "Do you want to see him again?"

Fraser sighed. "I'm really not sure. On the one hand, it's a chance to resolve some things I thought would always be unanswered. On the other…" He sighed again. "Is it really him, or just my subconscious playing tricks? And if it is him, then do I have to keep living up to his expectations? It opens up an extremely messy can of worms."

"Plus the whole appearing out of nowhere and expecting you to make time for him."

"Yeah, I don't like that either."

"Thanks for telling me. I don't know if you're really seeing a ghost or if it's all in your head, but not letting me know something's going on is not buddies."

"I should thank you for not automatically driving me to the nearest mental institution."

"Hey, if I haven't done it by now with all the crazy ideas you have, then I'm probably not gonna."

"Good man to have as a partner, son. Very understanding," Fraser Sr. said, making Fraser jump. Ray saw the move and gave him a questioning look.

Fraser turned to look at the back. "Hello again, Dad. How long have you been there?"

"Oh, not long, not long. Took a little tracking to find you, once you didn't come back."

"Hey, so your dad's here again?" Ray shot a glance back, and checked his mirror. Nothing there as far as he could tell, but maybe that didn't mean anything.

"Well, that's the question of the day, isn't it?"

"No, that isn't what – you know what I mean."

"Yes I do, and yes he is." He leaned in toward Ray. "But I'd prefer not to introduce you for now. I'd rather not encourage him."

"Right. I get that." He started to say more, but Fraser pointed toward the station. "Son of a bitch! That takes guts," Ray swore as they watched Del get into his father's car. They drove after him, and Ray called for a police car to follow.

William Porter took them on a long chase, through alleys, even a warehouse. His driving skills were impressive, and he lost the police car first, then got away from Ray, who stopped at an overpass as Porter went under it. "Dammit! I almost had him a couple of times, but he knows how to drive, that's for sure."

"I'm getting out here, Ray – you meet me down where they're headed."

Ray nodded. "Got it."

When Ray caught up with Fraser, it was to see Del jump a fence and his father to drive off. "That went well."

Fraser tilted his head. "It could have gone better, yes. But hopefully one or both of them will come to their senses."

Ray rolled his neck. "Well if I don't get a shower and some food, I'm never gonna come to mine. I still can't believe he got away from me."

"That is his job, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but I've done it too." He rapped his fist against the top of his car. "If I had the Goat he wouldn't have gotten away."

"The Goat?"

"The GTO. I've told you about it."

"Ah. Yes you have. I just hadn't heard you call it a goat before."

"It was what Dad and I called it – GTO – Goat. Made sense at the time. But nothing is right now. You want a ride back to your place, maybe change or something?"

Fraser looked down at his dusty clothing. "That would be appreciated, Ray."

"Okay, then. We'll clean up, then match up again, see if we can get a handle on this before it's too late."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser cleaned up with enough time to spare to have a bite at a nearby diner. His father appeared, again, but given the holiday, Fraser couldn't find it within himself to be too upset. And talking with him made Fraser realize what had to be going on with William Porter, even if his father didn't see it. He left his meal unfinished and went to find Del.

Fraser explained his theory to Ray, and they tracked down William Porter, who was indeed planning on killing himself and Donnelly, hoping to leave the money for his son, so he could have a better life. But Fraser convinced him that leaving Del without a father was a poor trade, and Porter turned himself in to Fraser as Ray cuffed Donnelly.

They returned to the station, Ray promising Porter he'd do his best to get the ASA to go easy on him. "She doesn't like me, but she won't let that affect her judgment when it comes to a case," he told Fraser.

Once Del and his father were reunited at the station, and Donnelly was behind bars, it looked like maybe, just maybe things were quieting down.

"So Fraser, we still on for dinner tonight?" Ray asked.

"After the last two days, are you still wanting to do something?"

"It won't be anything fancy, but I promise it isn't pizza. I already have it pretty much made – just have to throw a few things together."

"You're sure it's no trouble?"

Ray just looked at him. "Would you stop with that and just say, 'Thank you, Ray, I'd love to have a crappy Christmas dinner with you and watch old movies on the tube.' I'll even let you say hi to Mom when I call her."

"Thank you kindly, Ray. I'd like nothing more than to have Christmas dinner with you. Is it alright if we stop and get Diefenbaker on the way?"

"Of course. That way, Mac can give him his gift."

"Your turtle got Diefenbaker something? I thought you said they were natural enemies."

"What can I say – he got the Christmas spirit." He grinned. "Speaking of, your dad still around?"

Fraser looked around, then shook his head. "It doesn't look like it."

"Well, just in case, he's invited too if you want him there." Ray slung an arm over Fraser's shoulder as they walked toward the door. "Merry Christmas, Fraser."

"Merry Christmas, Ray."

 

Episode 1.17: The Deal

"Hey, Fraser, there you are," Ray called out as he and Gardino entered the bullpen. "Man, if you'd been here a little sooner you could've joined us. You just missed the lunch of a lifetime." He slung an arm over Gardino's shoulder. "Gardino here found a place that makes pierogies almost as good as my Mom's."

"Maybe even better," Gardino added, causing Ray to let him go and point a finger at his chest.

"You watch what you say about Mom's cooking," Ray mock-growled. "Weren't you the one who always used to try to steal the ones she'd bring in for me?"

"Your mother brought you dinner at the station?" Fraser asked.

"Yeah, this was a long time ago. Stella and I were first married, and she was neck deep into law school. Mom worried that I wouldn't eat right, so sometimes she'd bring me some food."

"You should've seen the fuss she made over 'her little Stanley'," Gardino added with a good-natured chuckle.

"Yeah, and you didn't mind her fussing over you either. She started bringing in extras once she heard this goofball was trying to sneak off with mine," he explained.

"Those were some great pierogies," Gardino said wistfully. "I sure was sorry when your folks moved to Arizona." Huey walked in and waved at them. Ray waved back and Fraser nodded a greeting. "Duty calls. Later, Kowalski," Gardino said with a smile as he walked over to his partner.

"See ya, Louis," Ray responded, then turned to Fraser. "I did try to call about lunch, but they said you'd already left."

Fraser nodded. "I stopped by the Community Center on my way here."

Ray snapped his fingers. "That's right – today was your day to check in with the neighborhood watch. I'm still surprised Dief will let you near the place, what with the way Gladys likes to dress him up."

Fraser rolled his eyes. "It seems that the promise of home-baked cookies is enough to overcome any embarrassment."

Ray laughed at that. "Maybe he just secretly likes drag."

"I sincerely doubt it, but I'll make sure he knows you thought so. Oh, Mr. Hanrahan was there today, and asked after you," Fraser remarked.

"H? What, he run out of suckers willing to play chess with him? Or am I just extra fun to beat?"

"You've come close to winning several times," Fraser reminded him. "I'm sure he misses your companionship. You're one of the few people who doesn't mock him for his assertions that he's a government agent."

Ray smiled and shook his head. "Yeah, didn't see that one coming. The guy was seriously quiet when we first started playing – barely said more than 'your move'." He shrugged. "Way I see it, it doesn't hurt anybody to humor him. Besides, you never know – he could be telling the truth. I mean, if Chicago has an American cop partnered with a Canadian Mountie and his deaf half-wolf, anything can happen."

"Detective, good to see you've finally rejoined us," Welsh said as he stopped at Ray's desk. "I trust you had a good lunch."

"The best, sir," Ray replied with a smile.

"And Constable. Is there something the Consulate needs our assistance with?"

"No sir. I finished an early shift, and so I thought I'd come by and see if Ray needed my help with anything."

Welsh gave him a speculative look. "You have free time and you're choosing to spend it here."

"Yes, sir."

"You need a hobby, Fraser."

"Yes, sir."

Welsh sighed. "As long as you're here, it just so happens that there's something Ray can use your help with. Follow me, gentlemen."

Welsh gestured to a box on his desk as they entered his office. Fraser gave it a closer look. "Interesting. It looks like a donation box."

"Right in one. This particular box is from St. Michaels. It was broken into this morning, all monies stolen. You're the lucky two that get to investigate it."

Ray gave him a look of disbelief. "You've gotta be kidding me. How much could there have been?"

"I was told by Father Behan that the sum was likely around forty dollars."

Ray fished out his wallet. "I can cover that. Now can I go back to my real cases?"

"This is your real case, Kowalski. This is coming from a higher authority than me and it is now your number one priority." He sat back in his chair. "So feel free to remove it from my office and get to work."

Fraser pulled out a pair of gloves and put them on, then carried the box back to Ray's desk. Ray had already stalked out of Welsh's office and was at his desk, looking sullen. "I cannot believe this! I have cases – serious cases, Fraser – that are gonna go cold while I look into some forty dollar heist. It's ridiculous."

"Perhaps, but it's what Lieutenant Welsh ordered, so we should try to make the best of it. I'll look over the box, see what I can find, and then take it down for prints. You go ahead and work on another file until I'm done."

Ray gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Fraser."

Fraser found quite a bit to work with, as it turned out. The lid's fittings had been loosened and the marks left suggested a very specific type of tool was used to pry it open. Add to that a waxy residue he found traces of, and Fraser was certain they'd be able to find the thief without too much trouble.

Welsh was walking over to Ray's desk just as Fraser returned. "Anything yet, gentlemen?"

"We've found quite a lot out about the thief, sir," Fraser answered. "I've sent the box down to forensics, but I don't know if it will be necessary. Its just going to take a bit of research, perhaps some field work."

Welsh nodded. "Glad to hear that, Constable." He handed a piece of paper to Ray. "Here's another lead to follow. A concerned citizen, just wants to help."

Ray looked at the name and then up at Welsh. "Oh come on, really? Frank Zuko is worried about a guy who'd steal forty bucks? What, he didn't get his cut?"

"You have proof of anything Mr. Zuko does that isn't aboveboard, I'm sure the Feds would love to talk with you. Otherwise, he's called, so you're following up."

"I take it Frank Zuko is less than reputable," Fraser remarked after Welsh had gone back to his office.

"He's part of the Chicago mafia, took over for his dad a few years back."

"Have you crossed his path before?"

"Nope, not even when I was under – I'm not family enough, for which I will always be grateful. But the Zukos have always had a lot of fingers in a lot of pies. When Frank took over for his dad he shook things up, made some changes. Some of it was legit, some not so much, but he's slick. No one's been able to pin anything on him."

"And you think that his involvement in this case is more than it appears."

"Oh yeah. I don't think he's strong-arming the church for money, but there's no way Frank Zuko's gonna make a stink because of a measly forty dollars. This thing just got a lot more interesting, in a dangerous kind of way." Ray got up and grabbed his jacket. "Come on, Fraser. Looks like we got an interview to do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray glanced at Fraser as he drove toward Zuko's house. "So you know that crack Welsh made about you needing a hobby wasn't a brush off, right?"

"A brush off?"

"I mean, he isn't trying to get rid of you. Because if he was, believe you me, he wouldn't be that subtle."

"Ah. So he was joking."

"Partly. But I think he's trying to figure you out, because he's got a point. You spend most of your free time at the station working with me." He paused. "Don't you want to make friends, have a life?"

"I do have a life, Ray. I've gotten to know people in the neighborhood, and I think we've formed a small but friendly community. And while I do spend a fair amount of time at the station, it isn't always work-related. I've spent time with Jack and Louis, and Elaine, and even Francesca."

Ray grinned at that. "Yeah, but you only see Frannie with a chaperone." He teased.

"The point is, Ray, that while my social circles may be small, they do exist. I have friends. And there's you, of course. I spend a great deal of time with you that's not at all case-related." He smiled. "You're my best friend – I hope you know that."

Ray smiled back. "Yeah, I guess I do. I just don't want to monopolize you. I think I crowded Stella too much sometimes, even when we were just friends."

"I don't feel crowded, Ray."

"Good. Good." He parked in front of a large home with a well-kept yard. When they knocked on the door, Frank Zuko answered it, letting them in once they'd identified themselves.

"Glad to see the Chicago PD is taking this seriously," he said as he led them to his study.

"Thievery is a crime, no matter how small the amount," Fraser replied.

"Yeah, but I have to wonder why you're so concerned," Ray added. "I mean, it's pretty small change."

"That's my church, detective. And this is my neighborhood. I want to keep it safe for my family." Frank leaned over to look at a drawing his daughter wanted to show him, then kissed her on the head and sent her off to play.

"Your concern is laudable, Mr. Zuko. Do you have any information that might help us find the thief?"

"I'm afraid I didn't get a good look at him. But you have evidence to work from, right?"

"Yeah," Ray answered. "We have the donation box. No leads yet, though. That's why we're here."

Zuko smiled placatingly. "Sorry I can't be more help. But I'm sure you'll find the guy. You'd have my gratitude if you did, both of you."

As they got back onto the car, Ray was shaking his head. "Can you believe that guy? 'You'd have my gratitude' – like pleasing him is reason enough to do this. I'm telling you, Fraser, he's up to something and it's bigger than some stupid forty dollar theft."

"Bindlestich."

Ray looked at him, puzzled. "Gesundheit."

Fraser frowned slightly. "No, bindlestich is a tool, one I believe was used to pry open the donation box."

"I've used a lot of different tools in my time, and I don't ever remember hearing that word before."

"Well no, you probably wouldn't. It's a very specialized tool, one used in shoe making and repair."

"So we're looking for a shoe maker?" Ray grinned. "As long as you don't think we have to find his elves, I'm good."

"Elves, Ray?"

"Yeah, like the fairy tale." At Fraser's blank look, Ray's eyes widened. "Come on, you know what a whatsit – a bundlepack is, but you don't know The Elves and the Shoemaker?"

"I know about bindlestiches because I've seen them used. Where I grew up it was much smarter to repair what you had rather than just try to replace it. And as for fairy tales, while my grandparents did have books of that nature in their library – and the pre-Bowdler versions were quite an eye-opener, believe me – I found local folklore to be much more interesting."

"That would explain why you have an Eskimo – sorry, sorry, Inuit story for every occasion," Ray teased. "Okay, so this is good, this is a lead we can work with. And seeing how we're in the neighborhood, we can take a look around, see if we can find the guy's shop."

There was in fact a shoe repair store on the block, but it was closed. Ray and Fraser asked other nearby store managers if they knew anything about it, and were able to find out that the owner's name was Joey Paducci, and that the shop had only recently shut down.

"Thank you, Ray," Fraser said as they left a shop where a woman had been very actively flirting with Fraser. "She was quite persistent."

"Yeah well, she's working at a lingerie shop, where else is her mind gonna go?"

"One would hope that she doesn't give quite that level of attention to all of her clientele."

Ray barked out a laugh. "Yeah, that does take customer service to a whole different level." Fraser gave him a look that made Ray laugh harder. "Okay, okay," he said as he caught his breath, "so we know this guy had a store, and that it was open until recently. What we don't know is just how to find him."

"Well, we could ask around some more, see if anyone had their shoes repaired recently. We know he has his tools with him. Even with the store closed, he could still do business, perhaps barter his services."

"You really think it's worth a shot?" Fraser nodded and Ray shrugged. "Okay, you take this side of the street, I'll take that side. Just find me if you get a lead – don't go off on your own."

After knocking on a lot of doors and looking over more pairs of shoes than Ray wanted to think about, they got a lead at a boarding house near the shop. Fraser went to the door while Ray took a chance and went outside. It paid off, as Paducci was trying to escape through the window. Ray caught Paducci easily and he and Fraser took him back to the station.

They walked in to hear snippets of odd conversations, and when Ray overheard Louis say something about wearing ruby slippers he stopped. "I'm gonna have to bleach my brain after that mental image, Lou – thanks."

"What – you're the one who started all this with your shoe guy," Louis shot back.

"You cannot blame your scary Dorothy drag on my shoemaker."

"It was when I was a kid! And it was just the shoes – like you don't have any embarrassing childhood stories?"

Ray pointed at him as he answered. "Yeah, but I got enough sense to keep them to myself. Come on, Fraser, let's get this guy taken care of."

Paducci's story was about what Ray had expected – he'd had a nice little business, a wife, an apartment, a decent life. Then he started getting offers of "protection at a reasonable price" from men who could only be working for Zuko. The price had gotten higher and higher until he'd lost everything.

"So when I saw Zuko put money in the box, something in me just kind of snapped. It was like seeing a chance to get some of my own back."

"Yeah, but at the expense of the church and your freedom," Ray replied. "I'm thinking that's a lot steeper than whatever you were charged before." He had an officer lead Paducci down to booking. "Jeez, he really got screwed over," he said as he watched them walk off. "I can see his point – kind of eye for an eye."

"Yes, but as you stated, it was at quite a hefty price. And if Mr. Zuko is really behind the extortion, his trouble may not be over."

"Yeah, I don't think he's the type to see jail as a fair punishment. He's probably lucky we found him before Zuko's goons did."

Frannie walked by Ray's desk as they were talking, but stopped and came back.

"Did I just hear the name Zuko? As in Frank Zuko?" she asked warily.

"Yeah, not that it's any of your business, Frannie." Ray answered.

"You need to watch out for that guy," Frannie said, arms crossed over her chest.

Fraser gave Ray a disapproving look. "I take it you know Mr. Zuko, Francesca."

"Oh yeah. He and my brother went to school together, same class. They never got along, and it only got worse when Ray took to liking Frankie's little sister, Irene." Frannie stopped then and a sad look crossed her face. She shook it off and continued. "He's bad news. Even if he wasn't dirty, Zuko'd have it in for the cops because of her."

"What happened?"

"I don't know the whole story. Ray won't talk about it. All I know is there was something going down, Ray was investigating a case and Frankie was involved. They got into it, Irene got in the middle… and she died. That's why Ray left for Florida, I think. He couldn't stay here, reminded of her everywhere he looked." She frowned. "Plus, there was the chance that Frank would have him taken out." She looked from Fraser to Ray, her expression serious. "So anyhow, be careful. He comes across as this nice guy, and he's a smooth operator, that's for sure. But underneath all that charm's a real mean streak."

"Thank you for your concern, Francesca."

"Yeah, Frannie, thanks."

She left them with a worried look on her face, and Ray watched her go, then turned to Fraser. "Okay, make that he's definitely better off in jail, at least for now." He looked at his watch. "Damn, the day's really gotten away with me. You want a ride home? We can let Joey cool his heels here tonight, talk to Father Behan about it in the morning."

"Thank you, Ray. A ride would be great."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser walked up the stairs to his apartment, finding them abnormally crowded. He approached his door carefully, surprised to see Dief waiting outside. He could hear noises coming from the other side of the door, but Dief's lack of concern kept him from being too worried. He opened it to find the small apartment filled with people and furniture, all unfamiliar.

"Excuse me," he called out over the noise, "I think you have the wrong apartment."

A woman with a clipboard approached him. "You're Benton Fraser, right?"

"Yes."

"And this is 221 West Racine, Apartment 3J, right?"

"Yes."

She shoved the clipboard toward him. "Then sign here – it's all yours."

Fraser signed, watched the delivery men as they left and then just stood in the middle of his apartment, looking around in bewilderment. A knock at his door startled him and he approached it warily, hoping not to find that they'd forgotten to deliver something else he hadn't wanted. What he found was Mr. Mustafi, scowling at him.

"You need a phone," he said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"There is a call for you. On my phone, in my apartment. If you had a phone, I wouldn't have to answer your call." He tried to peer around Fraser to see inside his suddenly opulent apartment, but Fraser inched out and closed the door behind him.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Mustafi. Do you know who the caller is?"

His frown deepened. "It's bad enough I had to answer it, do I have to be your receptionist too? I don't think so."

"Of course not. Thank you kindly for taking the call," he replied as they walked down the hall. Mr. Mustafi gestured for Fraser to go in, then slammed the door behind them. Fraser hurried to the phone. "Benton Fraser here."

It was Ray. "Hey, am I the only one surrounded by furniture?"

Fraser smiled in relief. "As a matter of fact, you're not. I was just wondering what to do about it. The delivery men refused to take it back."

"Same here," Ray replied. "My landlady kept trying to poke her head in, then chewed me out for not being here for the delivery. Did they have to bribe Dennis with a couch or something?"

"It's doubtful that he was involved at all, since my door has no lock."

"Still? Fraser, we've talked about this."

"Yes, and agreed to disagree." He felt Mr. Mustafi's disapproving glare and got back to the topic at hand. "So, what's the next step?"

Ray blew out a long breath. "I think we're gonna have to go to the source to get rid of it."

"I agree." Fraser lowered his voice, and Mr. Mustafi leaned in a little to try to hear. "Why do you suppose he'd done this?"

"Zuko? Who knows? Trying to buy us off, maybe. He did say he'd be grateful if we found Paducci."

"You know, Ray, if he was looking for Mr. Paducci, then this is a clear signal that he knows we've found him. He could be in danger."

Ray thought about that. "I'll make a couple of calls, make sure he's watched. If Zuko is after him, safest place for him is right where he is. You want me to swing by and get you on the way to St. Michaels tomorrow morning?"

"No, I think I'll go see about getting our apartments returned to their former states. I'll meet you at the station afterward."

"I don't know how good an idea that is, Fraser. You'll be deep in Zuko's turf. How about you come to the church with me first?"

"I'll be fine, Ray. Mr. Zuko has no reason to do anything to me. But if it would make you feel better, I'll meet you at the church after I've spoken with him."

"I still don't like it, but it's better. Okay, see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Ray." Fraser hung up the phone. "Thank you kindly for letting me take that call, Mr. Mustafi. Ray and I appreciate it very much."

Mr. Mustafi just glared. "You need a phone."

"Ah, yes. Understood."

The next morning, Fraser left Dief at the apartment with a stern warning not to touch the furniture. "Damaging it will not make it ours. It will just incur a repair cost, and don't think that you won't help repay it."

Dief cocked his head and flicked an ear.

"No, I don't think we should keep any of it. It's against the law. I'm shocked you'd even suggest it. What we had before was perfectly acceptable."

Dief sneezed and then just stared at Fraser. Fraser stared back, then shook his head.

"I'll be back for you later," he said as he put on his Stetson. "You pay and pay and pay…" he muttered as he closed the door behind him.

Fraser found Zuko playing basketball at a gym near his home. After a completely unfair game of one-on-one, Fraser left the gym unsatisfied, but with a better understanding of Zuko's character. Zuko was a man used to getting his way to the letter, and Fraser suspected that the only reason he'd left the building unscathed was that for the moment Frank Zuko found him to be something of a novelty. As he walked toward the church to meet Ray, Fraser couldn't help but wonder how quickly amusement would turn to annoyance, and just how far Zuko would go to make a point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Ray went to talk with Father Behan. Once he'd explained the situation, Father Behan was unwilling to press charges, pointing out that the money was for the poor and that Joey Paducci certainly qualified, even if his methods of obtaining the money were unorthodox. Ray was just leaving when Fraser arrived, and he gave Fraser the rundown as they walked back to Ray's car.

"You don't seem happy about this, Ray," Fraser observed as they got back in the car.

"Only because if they don't press charges we have no reason to keep him. And I don't know about you, but I don't want him back on the street just yet."

"I see your point. Perhaps we can think of something on the way back to the station."

It didn't matter. By the time they got back, someone had posted bail and Paducci had been released.

"Three guesses as to who posted it, and the first two don't count," Ray said with a scowl.

"It doesn't make sense. Why spend money on getting Mr. Paducci released, if as far as Zuko's concerned Paducci stole the money from him?"

"Because it's a lot harder to make an example of somebody when they're in jail. We gotta find Paducci fast."

And they did. He'd gone back to his apartment to gather up what he could; it was obvious to Fraser and Ray that he planned on leaving town.

"Don't try to stop me. I don't care if it's skipping bail – I'm a dead man if I stay here."

"We got no plans to stop you, Joey," Ray said, leaning casually against the door. "But do you have any? Plans, that is. 'Cause if you don't, you might as well just walk over to Zuko's now."

"Ray is correct. Well, not about you giving yourself over to Mr. Zuko. Neither of us advocate that. But you should be prepared, have a destination in mind, some kind of strategy if you're to get away safely."

Paducci looked at them, confused. "You're gonna help me get away? Isn't that kind of illegal?"

"It would be if there were any charges against you. But seeing as how Father Behan decided to be all charitable, you're free and clear. And since neither of us," Ray waved to indicate himself and Fraser, "really want to have to investigate your murder, it seems a lot smarter to give you a helping hand."

Paducci stared at them obviously trying to decide whether or not he could trust them.

"We just want to help," Fraser assured him. "That is, if you'll let us."

Paducci nodded slowly. "Okay, so what's the plan?"

"Well, I was going to try to keep you buried in red tape for another 48 hours, but the whole bail thing screwed that up." Ray walked over to Paducci and slung an arm over his shoulder. "So now you're coming with me to my place while we figure out a safe way to sneak you out of town. You have anywhere special in mind to go? Hopefully that's far away?"

They made it to Ray's apartment without incident, planning the entire way there. As Ray opened his door, both Fraser and Paducci couldn't help but be impressed at the furnishings. "At least he has good taste," Fraser noted.

"Yeah, if you like the overstuffed, too-nice-to-touch look. I'll be happy to have my ratty couch and scuffed coffee table back. This stuff clashes with the turtle."

Once they got Paducci settled in, Ray and Fraser fleshed out a plan. "Okay, so he has people he can stay with in Jersey – that's the good news."

"Yes, but is there a safe way to get him there?"

"That's the real kicker, isn't it? But as it happens, I think I have a solution."

"By the look on your face, I'd say you were about to use one of your myriad contacts to obtain safe travel for Mr. Paducci."

"Got it in one, Fraser. And the really nice part is that I can do it without being id'd as a cop. I have a couple of drivers that owe me a favor – let me make a few calls."

It was surprisingly easy to arrange a ride for Paducci. Enough so that Ray didn't trust it.

"Ray, you said yourself that this would be repayment of a favor. Why doubt it?"

"Because favors usually get trumped by threats from guys like Zuko." Fraser's face fell just a little, and Ray sighed. "Look, I know you want to see the best in everybody and that's great, that's good, but I can't help but look for the worst. So we hope for you to be right but need to be ready for it to be me that's called it, okay?"

"Okay. I suppose that balance is part of why we make good partners."

Ray smiled. "Duet all the way."

Unfortunately, Ray was right. His contact took Paducci to the bus station as promised, but Zuko's men were waiting. Ray and Fraser had followed, and they split up, Ray going after Paducci, Fraser swinging around to try and come around a different way. Ray saw Paducci narrowly avoid being shot, then crawl under a bus. He kept out of sight and tried to catch up.

Ray found Fraser first, and was shocked to see his friend bruised and bloody. "What the hell happened?"

Fraser just shook his head, wincing. "Later, Ray. We need to get Joey to safety."

Ray started to protest, but he knew Fraser was right. "Fine. Later. You wait here and I'll find him." It didn't take long, and Ray drove them back to the station. As soon as they got there, Frannie and Elaine started tending to Fraser's cuts and bruises while Ray got Paducci set up to look over mug shots, then told Welsh what was going on.

"I really want to pin this one on Zuko," Welsh said. "But I'm betting that even if Paducci finds them in the books they're halfway to California by now."

Ray looked over at Paducci. "He can't stay here, sir. He's targeted, and no way will Zuko let up. You think he can get protective custody?"

"No luck so far."

Ray shook his head. "We can't just let him go. I can give Stella a call, see if I can get her to change somebody's mind."

She told Ray no, though she sounded genuinely sorry. "If there was something solid we could work with, things would be different. But we just don't have the resources to help him. I'm sorry, Ray."

"Me too, Stella. Thanks anyway."

"Be careful. You're in over your head on this one."

"I gotta go. Talk to you later." He hung up the phone. "No dice. I'm gonna go rescue Fraser from the Nightingale twins there, see if we can come up with something."

Welsh nodded. "I'll start working on a way to bury him in the system, get us some breathing space."

As Ray approached Fraser, he saw just how hurt he was. He stalked up to Fraser, scowling.

"So that was from somebody swinging an otter at you?" Elaine was asking.

Fraser rubbed an eyebrow. "Yes. But it wasn't alive – that would have been illegal."

"Of course it was." Frannie responded. "The animals can't -" Whatever would have been said next died on her lips as she saw the look on Ray's face. She and Elaine stopped what they were doing and left the two of them alone.

"You said they didn't really hurt you," Ray growled.

"They didn't, Ray. These are all superficial. I'll be right as rain in a day or two."

"That," Ray spat out as he pointed to a particularly nasty bruise, "is not superficial. You're lucky they didn't break a rib. Hell, you're lucky they didn't try to kill you." Fraser looked away at that for a split-second, and Ray had to clench his fists to keep from shouting. "They tried to kill you?"

"It was nothing, Ray. Charlie was merely threatening me. I'm sure he wouldn't have fired-"

"Wait," Ray's voice was quiet and he stood stock still. "He had a gun on you, aimed at you? Were you planning on telling me this?"

"I'm not sure what purpose it would serve, other than to anger you. There's no one who will attest to it happening. In fact, I'm sure the men there would refute any claim I made."

"Were we not just talking about being good partners? I need to know this." He ran a hand through his hair and started pacing. "I am going to kill Zuko myself."

"You don't mean that."

Ray whipped around to face him. "Don't tell me what I mean. He's crossed a line."

"I don't think Mr. Zuko sees me as any kind of official police presence."

"I don't care how he sees it. You're my partner, that makes you one of us."

Fraser stood and put a hand on Ray's arm. "Ray, your outrage is touching, but what you're suggesting would do no good."

"It would get a mob boss off the streets permanently," Ray countered.

"And then I'd have to bring you in, and Chicago would lose a very fine policeman. And I would be without my partner."

Ray frowned at that, then sighed deeply. "I know. It's just. He wants you dead, Fraser. And for what? Because you won't play by his rules? That isn't going to change. If we don't do something, he's going to try again."

"What do you suggest?"

"Hell if I know. But something's got to happen." He paced for a minute, then stopped and turned to face Fraser. "I'm gonna go talk to him. Just talk," he emphasized, holding up his hands, "so don't start. You can come or go, but I'm going in alone. I don't want him even thinking we're ganging up on him – this is going to be hard enough as it is."

"But you have a plan."

"I have a plan, and it might even work. You coming?"

"Yes, and I'll wait in the car, but if I think something's not right I reserve the right to come in."

Ray thought about that, then nodded. "Fair enough, and to tell the truth, I'd like the back up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Detective Kowalski," Zuko said with a smile as Ray walked into the gym. "Come to shoot some hoops with me?"

"Call it off, Zuko."

"Call what off?"

Ray gave him his best don't mess with me stare. "Let Paducci leave town safely. And leave Fraser alone."

"Why should I do that? Out of the goodness of my heart, maybe?"

Ray snorted at that. "If that's what you want to call it. Good deed for the decade, cutting your losses… I don't care how you justify it. Find a reason and go with it. Because if anything happens to Paducci, Fraser will be after you, so that when you slip up, and sooner or later it will happen, he will be there."

"You seem awfully sure of that. Have you talked with him recently?"

"You mean since your boy over there threatened to kill him? Yeah. He could start with you now if he wanted to – assaulting a police officer is pretty serious."

"Please," Zuko said scornfully, "there's nothing to tie me to that."

"Nothing but the truth. And anybody who knows anything about Benton Fraser knows that he is all about the truth. He'll be a thorn in your side for the rest of your life."

"A thorn can be plucked out."

Ray nodded. "I can see where you'd think that. But he's not just one thorn. You mess with him and you get a whole briar patch, starting with the Chicago PD and ending with Canada. And you may have influence, but I don't think it's enough to stop a whole country."

"You know, to some this might sound like threats, Detective."

"Nah. I'm just conveying some information, making sure you have the whole big picture. If I were making threats, I'd say something about head-kicking, and that I wouldn't care what happened to me as long as I took you down first." He stopped and thought. "But I don't remember saying anything like that. So, now you know," he went on, crossing his arms over his chest, "and now you can really look at all your options, see if one lousy shoemaker is worth pissing off an entire country for." He shrugged. "Maybe you think it is, I don't know."

Zuko eyed him carefully, considering. "If your Mountie's so hell-bent on the truth, what makes you think that me letting Paducci go will stop him?"

"Because my world is a lot grayer than his. But I can spin this back into black and white if I need to."

"And I suppose you want me to guarantee you and Fraser will be safe, scot free"

"I don't see any reason for us to cross paths after this. It ought to be an easy enough thing."

Zuko regarded Ray coldly for a long time. "Paducci has 24 hours to get out of town, and quietly. More than that, or he makes a big deal of it, and I'm not responsible."

Ray nodded. "Done. So, if we're done, I really need to go. Gotta find a truck. Seems like my partner and I have a lot of furniture to move."

"They'll be expecting it back. I don't want to see you again, Kowalski."

"Feeling's totally mutual, Zuko," Ray countered, and left the gym.

Fraser waited until they were driving off to ask how it went. "It worked," Ray replied. "And you're gonna let the assault thing go, which you were going to do anyhow, but he doesn't need to know that."

"That's it?" Fraser said dubiously.

"That's it. But we should probably not go actively looking at him or his organization any time soon."

"Understood." Fraser was quiet for a minute. "You did a good thing today."

"Remind me of that the next time I hear about something somebody thinks Zuko was involved in." He blew out a long breath.

The rest of the ride was silent.

 

Episodes 1.20-1.21: Victoria's Secret

Fraser handed the man behind the counter a ticket, and he and Ray waited while the man went to the back of the shop, grumbling.

"What is it you were having fixed again, Fraser?" Ray asked dubiously.

"A toaster."

"You don't own a toaster."

"That's true. It belongs to Mr. Mustafi."

"Why are you paying to get Mr. Mustafi's toaster fixed?"

"It broke while I was borrowing it. I couldn't return it in disrepair."

"That was pretty convenient," Ray muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Ray replied, nodding toward the repairman, who handed Fraser the toaster. "So what's the damage?"

"I believe it was a burned out-" Fraser stopped as Ray thwacked him lightly on the arm.

"You know what I mean, doof. How much to get it out of hock?"

"Eighty dollars," replied the repair guy.

Ray's eyebrows shot up. "You've got to be kidding me! A new one doesn't cost that much."

"But it wouldn't have the character this one has," he replied, turning the dented and worn toaster over in his hands. "They don't make them like this anymore."

"Yeah, I get that," Ray agreed, taking out his wallet. "I feel the same way about this old thing. It's worn, and I could use a new one," he went on, opening it to show the wear, and the guy behind the counter's eyes widened when Ray's badge was revealed, "but I don't want to get rid of it. Sentimental value and all that."

"You know, I really need to re-check that invoice. I wouldn't want to tell you the wrong amount. I'll be right back." Ray grinned and put the wallet back in his pocket as the guy fled.

"You did that on purpose, Ray," Fraser said disapprovingly.

"Damn straight I did," Ray replied. "He was trying to rip you off, Fraser. He deserved a scare."

Fraser tried to frown, but a grin matching Ray's broke through. "Nicely done."

They left the shop having paid a much more reasonable repair bill, and Dief joined them as they walked. "You're still coming to the poker game at my place Friday, right?"

Dief yipped as Fraser nodded. "Yes, we're looking forward to it."

Ray eyed Dief. "I have your word that he won't try to help you cheat?"

Fraser looked affronted. "Ray, I've told you, I just had a run of luck last time."

"That's not how he tells it," he replied, jerking a thumb in Dief's direction.

"You're going to take his word over mine? What does that say about our partnership?"

Ray slung an arm over Fraser's shoulder. "That it's made of freaks," he said with a smile.

As they were walking, Fraser spotted something that made him stop and take a second look. He saw a woman go into a building, her back toward him, but something about her, the cascade of dark curls, the way she moved, tugged at his memory. A chill ran down his spine and he shivered, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the day.

"What's up, Fraser? Your Mountie version of spider-sense tingling?"

"What?" Fraser shook himself and forced his gaze away from the door. "Sorry, Ray. No, I just thought I saw someone I knew."

Ray turned to look at the building Fraser had been focused on. "You want to go see?"

Fraser shook his head slowly, then with more conviction. "No, I'm sure I was mistaken."

Ray shrugged and the two walked on.

But that night, in his apartment, he replayed that moment over and over, trying to find something in his memory to connect the woman he saw to the woman he thought she'd been.

"Mooning about, Benton? That's unlike you."

Fraser frowned but kept looking out the window. "Just trying to reconstruct a scene, Dad."

"Trying to figure out if that woman's the one you brought in all those years ago, you mean?"

Fraser did turn to face him then. "What do you know about that?"

"Just that you did the right thing."

Fraser shook his head. "I'm not so sure."

"You were then. Don't lose that, son."

Fraser knew his father was right. But that night, his dreams were filled with snow, and bitter cold, and a soft voice repeating a poem over and over. He was still so troubled the next morning that he went to a confessional. He'd hoped that recounting events aloud to someone would help ease his mind, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. A shift on guard duty with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company didn't help matters, and Fraser was for once grateful for the chaos of the 2-7 when he entered it.

"Hey, Fraser," Jack Huey said as Fraser entered the room.

Fraser nodded a hello in return and went to Jack's desk. "Good afternoon, Jack." He pointed toward Ray's empty desk. "Is Ray here?"

"Yeah, he's in with Welsh right now, doing his weekly check-in."

Fraser looked toward the closed door, dismayed. "Oh dear."

Jack laughed. "No, it's good. Haven't heard the Lieu raise his voice once."

Fraser raised an eyebrow at that. "Really?"

"I know. It's like a miracle or something – mark your calendar." He gave Fraser a more serious look. "I don't know if I've ever said this, but I'm glad you two are partners."

Fraser was a little taken aback. "Thank you, Jack."

"I mean it. And not just because your solve rate helps us all look good, though I definitely appreciate that. I've known Ray a lot of years, and he's a good cop, don't get me wrong, but he's been kind of a loose cannon, you know? You help ground him, get him to focus. It's good to see." He grinned. "And I'm sure you're getting something out of it too, but for the life of me I don't know what," he teased.

"Ray says I'm the logic of our duet, and he's the instinct."

"Well, whatever it is, it works." They turned as they heard the door to Welsh's office open. "Looks like Louis and I are up, assuming he ever gets out of the men's room. Hope our review goes as smooth as Ray's did."

"I'm sure it will."

"Hey, Fraser," Ray said with a grin as he approached. "You been waiting long?"

"Not at all, Ray. How did your meeting go?"

Ray did a little shuffle step around Fraser, punching the air. "No complaints, which may be a first. I'm – we're on Welsh's good side right now, and I for one plan on keeping it that way."

"I'm glad to hear it went so well. What's on our schedule for today?"

They went over some leads, then out for a quick bite and some legwork. Fraser tried his best to stay focused, but it got so bad that he was frustrating not only himself, but Ray.

"What is up with you today?" Ray asked after Fraser had to ask him to repeat himself. Again.

"I'm sorry, Ray. My mind isn't on the job today."

"Yeah, I'd noticed. You're either distracted or all twitchy and jumpy. You decide to try an expresso again? I thought you'd learned your lesson the last time."

"No, it isn't that. I saw someone yesterday and she reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago. And now I find I can't stop thinking about her. It's as if I expect to see her around every corner."

Ray raised an eyebrow at that. "This like someone you knew at Depot, or are we talking about an actual girlfriend?"

Fraser hesitated, unsure of just what he wanted to say. He'd talked about Victoria before, but never quite like this, and to be honest, he didn't want to tell the entire story to Ray just now. He settled on being vague, and hoped Ray wouldn't press. Or figure it out on his own. "I've never been in a long-term relationship like yours and ASA Kowalski's, but she's the closest thing, I suppose. I regret the circumstances… but I had no choice in the matter, and what's done is done."

"And you think whoever you saw might have been her?" Ray bumped Fraser with his shoulder. "I told you we should've followed her."

He looked away. "The woman I saw wasn't her, couldn't have been. And even if it was, she would have no desire to see me, I'm sure."

"So what, that's it? Stick it in a box, file it away, too bad so sad? Can you really do that – shut off your feelings like that?" Ray went on before Fraser could respond. "Obviously not, since you're all freaked today."

"It was just a little disconcerting. I'll be right as rain tomorrow, I'm sure."

"Business as usual, huh? Are you telling me that if this woman showed up tomorrow and asked for another chance, you'd say no?" He shook his head. "No way could I do that – give up a second chance like that."

"Yours is an entirely different scenario. You and Stella have known each other for years. You were married. It's not the same thing at all."

"Say what you want, Fraser. I'm just saying if it were me, I'd find out if I saw who I thought I saw."

"I appreciate your advice, Ray. But right now I'd prefer to focus on this case, please."

Ray gave him a long look, then nodded. "Okay. But we're not doing anything wildly bizarre today, you hear me? Normal stuff only – if you're not going to be 100% on your game, I'm not taking any risks."

Fraser breathed an inward sigh of relief. "Understood."

The rest of the day passed slowly, but not as awkwardly. Ray didn't bring up the subject again, nor did he coddle Fraser, but he did keep their work at a reasonable level, and didn't push, which Fraser appreciated more than he could express. And he didn't insist they have dinner together, instead accepting Fraser's polite refusal as if he'd expected it.

"You change your mind, you let me know," he said as he dropped off Fraser at his building. "I have nothing on my calendar."

"Thanks, Ray. I'll see you tomorrow."

His father's visit as he tried to have a quiet dinner didn't help settle his mind, but it was something of a comfort to know that his father was even more perplexed by women than he was. As Fraser was finishing his meal at the diner, he looked up to see a woman getting into a cab. This time, she turned toward him, and he drew in a breath as he realized that it was Victoria. Meal forgotten, he dashed out the door, trying to stop the cab.

One uncomfortable conversation later, Fraser and Victoria were at a different diner than the one he'd run out of, catching up over a cup of coffee. Fraser found being with her again a strange, but exciting experience, laced with a liberal amount of guilt. He winced inwardly whenever something he said inadvertently reminded her of her time in prison. If she noticed, she gave no sign of it, and he couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever forgive him for doing his duty. Seeing her again after all this time made him realize he'd never quite forgiven himself. He kept mentally replaying their past together as they talked, and he found himself on edge, waiting for Victoria to say or do something to let him know how she really felt about him.

When she started to leave, it all still felt too unfinished, and Fraser surprised himself by asking her to dinner. More surprising to him was that she accepted his invitation, and the two went back to his apartment to eat. Dinner was an odd mix of items, as his pantry wasn't well-stocked, but Victoria didn't complain. Afterward, they sat in front of the television he'd borrowed from Mr. Mustafi and watched an old movie, albeit without sound. Fraser thought about making up dialogue just to see if she'd go along, as he and Ray sometimes did, but decided against it.

He walked her back to the hotel and reluctantly said goodnight, then started back home. On his way he passed a street vendor, and when he got out his wallet to pay for a "genuine Eskimo soapstone sculpture" that he knew was none of those things, he found more money than he should have, and realized Victoria must have slipped the cash in, most likely to help repay for dinner. He was touched by the gesture, and wondered again why she was really in Chicago. Could it be as simple as the unfinished business she'd spoken of? And was she really able to say good-bye to Fraser so easily? Didn't she feel the spark between them, the connection, just as strong today as it had been all those years ago?

Fraser sighed. Maybe she was right to keep her distance. Maybe all that had transpired was too much to get past. Fraser was so totally lost in thought that when he found Victoria waiting for him by his apartment door, he was taken totally off guard.

But as Victoria wrapped her arms around him, he forgot about anything but how good it felt to hold her.

The next morning he awoke to a loud knocking at his door. Hastily throwing on some clothes, he opened it to find Ray standing outside, frowning.

"There you are! I was starting to think I needed to bust in."

"Good morning to you too, Ray. Is there something you need?"

Ray looked at him, confused. "You okay? I thought you were supposed to be at the Consulate today, but they said you were here."

"I'm fine, thanks. I just had some things I needed to get done. Speaking of which, I know I said I'd pick up some snack foods for tonight, but I don't think I'll have time. But I do want to contribute," he reached into his back pocket for his wallet, and held out a few bills to Ray. "Will this be enough?"

Ray just looked at the money for a minute, then blinked and took it, shoving it into his jacket. "Okay, but that isn't why I'm here, Fraser."

Fraser shifted impatiently. "I'm sorry, did I forget an appointment we had, something for a case?"

Ray frowned at that, but shook his head. "Nothing like that, it's just… we got a call at the station – and please note that I'm not saying I told you so about the no phone thing – and," he paused. "I'm sorry Fraser, your dad's cabin burned to the ground."

Fraser's eyes widened at that, and he stilled. "Was there any indication as to the cause?"

Ray shook his head. "Nope. They're treating it like a 'too bad, but at least nobody was hurt and we have more important things to do' kind of case, or at least that's how the guy I talked to sounded. But I know you – you wouldn't have left that place anything but super-safe, so I did a little more digging."

"And I take it you found something."

"A couple of somethings – you really made your share of enemies up there – but only one that really hit me." He pulled a notebook from his pocket at flipped through it. "Woman named Victoria Metcalfe that you put away years ago. She just got released, and the timing struck me as hinky." He shook his head. "She got out on good behavior and all that, but… I don't know. Like I said, the timing's right, and if somebody caught me the way you did, I'd maybe want a little payback. Add to that the fact that she pretty much disappeared after she was let out, and I think it's worth looking into."

"Ray, just because Victoria has a less than perfect past is no reason to assume her motives are nefarious."

Ray stopped and looked at Fraser long and hard. "Wait a second. You knew she was out already, didn't you?" He snapped his fingers. "She's the woman you were talking about the other day – the one you regret losing. You've talked some about her before, but I didn't match it up until now. Please tell me I'm wrong here."

Fraser stood straighter as he answered, steeling himself. "I can't, Ray. You're absolutely correct. Victoria was the woman I meant. I tracked her down, as you suggested, and while she was angry with me at one time, and justifiably so I have to say, she's since forgiven me." Ray looked dubious at that, and Fraser couldn't stop himself from getting defensive. "I thought you said if I had a chance at happiness I should take it."

"You have got to be kidding me. A convicted criminal, possibly an arsonist and a murderer – you really think she's your happy ever after?"

"I think making assumptions about her solely on her past is rather short-sighted. You've never even met her, and already you're judge and jury."

Ray waved the notebook in front of him. "She's had a judge and jury. Jesus, Fraser! You knew she was guilty the first time you met her. Are you so desperate that you can't see her for what she is?"

"You have no idea who she really is, Ray. If you'd like to find out, I'd be more than happy to arrange a meeting. Otherwise, I'll thank you kindly to stay out of my personal affairs."

Ray gawked at that, and part of Fraser wanted to apologize, but he squashed the impulse, waiting for Ray to say something.

"Okay," Ray finally said, sounding tired. "Okay, fine, you want to believe things are hunky-dory, I have no right to say otherwise. Not like I'm just looking out for you or anything." He held up a hand before Fraser could reply to that. "You go on, be with her, and I hope to hell you're right about her. But you get any doubts, you let me know." He turned to go, but stopped a few steps away and turned back. "I'll see you later."

"You might want to listen to the Yank, son."

"People can change, Dad," Fraser said as he watched Ray walk off.

"True, true," he acknowledged. "But has she?"

Fraser turned to look at his father, but he was gone, leaving Fraser alone in the corridor. He stood there for a few moments, frustrated, then went back into his apartment.

"Who was that?"

"A friend," he answered, frowning at the door.

"And you didn't want to introduce me?" Victoria's voice held a note of challenge.

"Did you want to be introduced?" he countered, nodding at her state of near undress.

"I suppose not," she relented with a smile, holding out her hand. "Come back to bed."

How could he refuse?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the poker game that evening, Fraser was nowhere to be seen. "I thought Big Red was coming tonight, Ray," Jack said as he grabbed a handful of pretzels.

"Yeah, well I guess he had better things to do," Ray replied with a frown.

"At least we won't get beat by a dog," Gardino said, chuckling.

"Half-wolf," Jack and Ray replied simultaneously. Ray continued shuffling cards, not paying attention, until Jack cleared his throat loudly. "Sorry, lost track of what I was doing," Ray said, dealing.

"So what did Fraser have to do?" Jack asked as he picked up his cards. "Extra shift at the Consulate?"

"Maybe he has a date, Jack," Gardino said, jokingly. Ray winced at that, and Gardino jumped on it. "He has a date? Who is she? Come on, Ray, you have to know – you two are too tight not to. Have you met her?"

"I thought we were here to play cards, not gossip," Ray growled, and Gardino held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, never mind. It's just I can't remember him ever having a date before." He grinned slyly. "Unless it was with you, of course."

Gardino barked as Jack kicked him under the table, and Ray rolled his eyes. "I don't think this woman's a good match for him, that's all, and I'm worried he's gonna get burned bad."

Gardino shuffled through his cards as he spoke. "You've got to be kidding me. He could have anybody he wanted – we've all seen how women throw themselves at him. And he never takes them up on it. So now that he has, don't you think he's thought it over?"

"Honestly? No. That's what worries me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser woke the next morning before Victoria and smiled at the sight of her, still and peaceful. He resisted the urge to kiss her awake, instead getting up to work on breakfast.

Despite his best efforts to keep quiet, she woke up soon after.

"It's okay, Ben. I'm a light sleeper. Hard habit to break," she said, moving in to give him a kiss. It started to become more, and Fraser was about to abandon breakfast entirely, when Dief whuffed at him.

"Does he need to go out?" Victoria said, a slight frown marring her features.

Fraser started toward the window to the fire escape, but Dief moved to the door and barked again.

"I sincerely doubt that Ray is here, Diefenbaker."

Dief cocked his head, and Fraser sighed, "You're that sure?"

"What is it?"

"Dief insists that Ray's in the hall, which I doubt. He would have knocked if that was the case."

"Do you usually work on Saturdays?"

Fraser's face fell. "Saturday – I missed the game last night." He grabbed Victoria's hand and squeezed it, then sat on the edge of the bed to put on his boots. "Entirely worth it, but that means Dief could be right. I'm going to go check."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray was on the stairwell when Fraser called out to him. He stopped and waited.

"Ray, why didn't you let me know you're here?"

"I heard a woman's voice, figured I'd be interrupting," Ray answered with an offhand shrug. "How'd you even know I was here?"

Fraser pointed to the bag in Ray's hand. "Donuts. Dief smelled them through the door and insisted I find you."

Ray grinned at that. "Should've known. That mutt may not hear too good, but he has a nose for the sweet stuff."

"Ray, you're welcome to come up, if you'd like to meet Victoria."

Just as Ray began to answer, a gunshot sounded from upstairs. They ran up, passing neighbors who'd opened their doors at the noise, and threw open Fraser's door, Ray with his gun drawn.

There on the floor lay Diefenbaker, blood seeping from his side. Fraser moved to kneel beside him, his face pale, and Ray pulled out his cell phone and tossed it to Fraser. "Call your vet – I'll check out the area, see if I can find who did this."

"And Victoria," Fraser added as he dialed. "Make sure she's safe."

Ray frowned at that. "Yeah, only somehow I'm sure she's fine," he muttered. A quick look around revealed just what he'd expected – nothing. No shooter, and no Victoria Metcalfe.

"What'd the doc say?" he asked as Fraser hung up the phone. "How's Dief doing? Can we move him?"

Fraser looked at him stoically. "I've been able to slow the blood loss by applying pressure, and as far as moving him goes, we've got no choice. The doctor will be ready for us as soon as we get him there."

"Okay, okay," Ray said, shooting glances around the apartment. "We need towels, blankets – something to carry him in. We lucked out – I got a decent parking space for once, so that's something."

"We can use the blankets off of my bed, if you could get them."

"Sure," he replied, kneeling next to Dief and ruffling the fur on his head as gently as he could. "We got you, buddy. You just hang in there," he whispered, then rose to get the blankets. The sight of the unmade bed and some of Fraser's clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor stopped Ray for a second. Cursing at himself, he shook himself and got moving, quickly gathering what they needed and doing his best to ignore the fact that Fraser obviously hadn't listened to him at all.

They got Dief to the car as carefully as they could, and Fraser sat in back, Dief's head in his lap. He murmured to Dief the entire way, while Ray did his best to make the ride a smooth one. True to his word, the vet was waiting at the door, and he got Dief into surgery immediately. Ray and Fraser went to sit in the waiting area. Fraser seemed somewhat dazed or in shock, and Ray felt helpless. "He's gonna be fine, you know that, right? That is one tough half-wolf."

Fraser gave him a weak smile as he answered. 'I'm sure you're right, Ray. I just – I can't imagine what happened."

"You don't think-" Ray cut himself off, hesitant to say more.

"No." Fraser's reply was firm, and it was obvious he wouldn't believe anything else.

Ray held up his hands. "Hey, I had to ask. You're a cop, you know the drill."

Fraser nodded, looking at his hands. "I know. Sorry, Ray. But I don't believe Victoria shot him."

Ray still had his doubts, but kept them to himself. "You'd know better than I would," was all he said. "Okay, so then we need to figure out who did, and why. You had anybody threaten you lately?"

"Not recently, no."

"How about her? Anybody after her?"

Fraser was silent for a long time. "I don't know," he finally admitted.

"So we find her, we might get some answers, shed some light on this thing. It's a start," Ray said with a nod. "But not until we know for sure about Dief, right?"

"Thank you, Ray."

"No problem. I have a soft spot for the sweet-toothed mutt, even if he does hate my turtle."

Fraser gave Ray another small smile at that, and the two sat in silence. Then Fraser sat up a little straighter, and turned to face Ray. "There was someone, a man. I noticed him outside of the building last night, and again this morning."

"Anybody you recognize?"

"No, I'm certain I've never seen him before. It may be nothing, of course."

"Yeah, or it may be something. You can give us a description at the station, and we can check the mug shots too, see if we get a match."

The vet came out soon after that, and assured them that with time and rest, Dief would indeed recover. Fraser went back to see Dief for a minute, and then the two left.

"I'd like to stop by my apartment before we go in, if that's all right, Ray," Fraser said, gesturing to his blood-stained clothes. "I don't think going in like this is such a good idea."

"Probably not. Okay, quick stop at your place, here we come."

But Ray got a call from the station as they were pulling up to the building, and had to go to a crime scene, "immediately if not sooner, Detective" according to Lieutenant Welsh. He offered to wait, but Fraser waved him off.

"I can change and then walk there, Ray. Don't get in trouble with the Lieutenant."

"I could probably use your help at the scene," Ray offered. "That'd make the delay okay with him."

Fraser shook his head. "I'm afraid I wouldn't be much help today."

"Okay, but I'll see you at the station, right?"

"Right."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser changed quickly, but instead of going to the station, he followed a hunch and went to Victoria's hotel. He got there just in time to see Victoria putting her suitcases into a taxi, and stopped her from leaving.

She insisted on going somewhere public, and so they ended up at the zoo, where Victoria told Fraser that the man he'd seen was her ex-partner in crime, Jolly. He'd been following her, she said, and while she'd thought she'd lost him she'd obviously been wrong. Dief had been shot trying to protect her.

She also told him why it was that Jolly was so persistent – there was a half a million dollars missing from their last robbery, money she swore she didn't have.

"You have to come to the station, Victoria. Ray and I can-"

"No! No cops. You have to understand that. Why would they even believe me?"

"Because I'd vouch for you."

She studied him intently. "You would, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would. If you won't go to the police, at least let me help you. I have connections here, and I'm sure we can find Jolly. After what he did to Dief, I have a personal interest, and no one would question it."

"I don't know, Ben."

"You've already tried running and where has it gotten you? Give my way a chance," he pushed, desperately hoping that she'd listen, that she'd trust him.

She looked away, thinking, then finally turned back toward him and nodded, still looking uncertain. "All right."

"Good. First things first. We need to find a safe place for you. This may sound strange, but I think you should come back to my apartment."

"That's the first place he'll look!"

"Is it? We know he knows about it, so why would you go back there? Logically, it's the last place you should go, and therefore should be the last place he'd suspect."

"That actually makes sense."

"Of course it does. Come on. I know a roundabout way, just in case he is watching." They made it to the apartment safely. Fraser was reluctant to leave, but needed to get to the station. "The sooner I go, the sooner we can clear this up."

"I know."

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I know."

"Here," he said, writing some numbers on a piece of paper. "This first number is the station, and the second is Ray's cellular phone." He looked sheepish. "I don't have a phone, of course, but there's a pay phone at the end of the street, or you could try Mr. Mustafi down the hall, though he probably wouldn't let you make a call. At least, not for free."

She took the paper and put it in her pocket. "Go on. And be back soon."

"I will," he said with a nod. As he left, he noticed a cigarette butt by the door, and knelt to pick it up. "Canadian," he determined, and pocketed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Ray was waiting impatiently at the station when Welsh called him into his office. There were two men Ray didn't recognize in there with him, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up as they watched him. When Welsh identified them as IA, he wasn't surprised.

"Whatever it is you need, I always tell you no, so can I go now?"

Welsh shook his head and gave Ray a warning look, but it was one of the IA men who answered. "We need to see your wallet, detective," he stated, holding out his hand.

Ray looked at him quizzically, but when another look at Welsh cued him to go along, he got it out and handed it over. They opened it and took out the cash, studying it for a minute and then turning their piercing stares back to Ray. "Where did you get this?"

"You think I keep track? It's only what, thirty-five or forty bucks, tops." They just kept watching him and he finally sighed and said, "I don't know. Bank machine, maybe. Grocery, the diner by my apartment, hell my partner might have given me some of it." They perked up at that, looking at him even more intensely. Ray shook his head, disbelieving. "You've got to be kidding me. What could you want with Fraser? He's the most honest guy I know, and he isn't even officially one of us, so you shouldn't care what he does!"

"When money that hasn't been seen for years starts turning up in Chicago, money that was part of a bank robbery he might have had a part in, we make it our business."

"You mean the Metcalfe thing? But Fraser's the one that tracked her down and turned her in. He wasn't part of the heist."

"So you know about it. Interesting."

"Of course I do – he's my partner. And anyhow, she's in Chicago. If you want to talk to anyone, it should be her. Hell, she could've put the money he gave me in his wallet, switched it out for his money."

"I sincerely doubt that. Victoria Metcalfe is dead."

Ray's eyes widened. "What?"

"She died months ago," the other man replied, smug. "Do you want to see the coroner's report?"

"No, but you need to re-check your facts, because if Benton Fraser says he's seen Victoria, I'd believe him over a report any day." He moved to the door. "I've got real police work to do, real bad guys to catch." He closed the door behind him and took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. He was glad Fraser wasn't here yet after all; guilty or not, didn't matter to IA. He was going to have to work fast to try to find a way to keep Fraser clear.

A few minutes later Ray saw Welsh's door open and the IA men leave, but he pretended not to notice and kept working. And he continued working to find some link to place Victoria Metcalfe in Chicago until Welsh and Jack Huey approached his desk. He reluctantly looked up when Welsh cleared his throat.

"You need something from me, Lieutenant?"

Welsh motioned for them to go into his office, and Jack closed the door behind them.

"I think it's time we talked to Fraser face to face, Ray. I know you want to protect him, and I'm having trouble believing he could ever be involved in this, but evidence is piling up. What IA didn't tell you and I shouldn't is that more of the money was found in the wreckage of Fraser's cabin. I need your honest opinion, Ray. Are you sure Fraser isn't involved in this?"

Ray opened his mouth to say yes, but images of the past few days flashed through his mind and he was as shocked as anyone else to hear himself answer, "No." He immediately started to backpedal. "I mean, it's really unlikely, and if you'd asked me last week I'd have threatened to kick you in the head for even suggesting it, but now?" He shook his head. "That doesn't change what I told IA, though – if he's involved, it's only now and because of Victoria, not because he helped her way back when. And my gut says she's playing him."

"Okay, then," Welsh said. "You're off this detail, you know that, right? I want you tracking down Metcalfe, see if she's really here, if she's working alone, anything you can find. Jack, go get Gardino. I want you two to go get Fraser." He gave them a stern look. "Just for questioning, nothing official. Is he at the Consulate today, Ray?"

"Should be. He had a shift."

"I'll get Louis and we'll bring him in." Jack said. "For what it's worth, I'm on his side, too. Guy couldn't even steal a box of Milk Duds without help." Ray gave Jack a weak smile at that as he headed out.

Welsh turned back to Ray, his voice less gruff. "I know this isn't easy, but I appreciate your being honest, Ray."

Ray looked at the ground and shuffled his feet. "Yeah, well honesty sucks." He jerked a thumb in the direction of his desk. "I'm gonna go work some more on clearing Fraser's name, if that's okay with you."

"I'm certain you'll have no trouble, detective," Welsh replied. "But make sure it's done right – I don't want a slip up."

As soon as Ray saw Jack and Gardino head out, he went to leave too, hoping to find Fraser before they did. But just as he got to the door Fraser walked in, totally oblivious to Ray's distress.

"I found Victoria," he said as he saw Ray. "She gave me more information to work from." Ray darted a quick glance around and dragged Fraser into the supply closet.

"You can't stay here, Fraser. There's serious trouble going down. IA's looking for you, and Welsh wants to ask you some questions too."

Fraser frowned. "Whatever it is, I'm sure I can answer to their satisfaction."

"No you can't, trust me."

Fraser frowned at that. "Well, I can't stay in here. I have information about the man following Victoria, the one who shot Dief."

"So tell me and then get out of here, lay low, something. Trust me to get it worked out."

"I don't like it, Ray. If I act as if I'm guilty, they'll have more reason to treat me that way."

Ray sighed. "Okay, then just follow my lead, and go right to the Lieu. IA left a few minutes ago, but they could come crawling back any minute. Just so you know, I told everyone you were probably at the Consulate, trying to give us some time."

"Technically I should have been there – I had a shift. But with Dief and Victoria…"

"Right, but I didn't say anything about that."

"Well, we won't find out anything staying in here. Why don't you see what you can find on Jolly, and I'll go talk to Lieutenant Welsh?"

"You sure?"

"Of course I am. I've done nothing wrong, Ray. You know that, don't you?"

Ray hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. "Yeah, I know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lieutenant Welsh was willing to listen, and a few minutes into Fraser's explanation of events Ray came in to join them. He'd looked up Jolly's criminal record, and what he found wasn't good. Apparently Victoria had testified against Jolly in exchange for a lighter sentence, which definitely gave him reason to hold a grudge, even if money hadn't been involved. And to add to it, he'd escaped from prison just days after she'd been released.

"The way I see it," Ray went on, "this is all just too coincidental. We need to find this guy and fast."

Elaine knocked on the door just then. "Fraser, you have a call. You want it at Ray's desk?"

Fraser looked at Welsh. "Can I take it in here, sir?" At the lieutenant's nod, Elaine went to transfer the call.

It was Victoria; she sounded terrified. "Ben, I think he found me. I mean, it looked like him – I was watching out your window and I think I saw him and I got scared so I ran."

"You did the right thing. Will you come here?"

"I can't!"

"All right," he said soothingly. "Go to the zoo, then. I'll meet you there, where we were before."

"Get there fast, Ben."

"I will," he replied, but she'd already hung up. "We need to get to the zoo, Ray. Now."

Ray looked at Welsh. "You believe us now, sir?"

"The constable's innocence was never an issue in my book, Kowalski. Go bring her in, give us something to rub in IA's face."

They got to the zoo in good time, but Victoria was nowhere to be found. Ray and Fraser split up to look for her and Fraser thought he saw her from a distance, so he went in that direction, but didn't find her. Suddenly, a shot rang out, and he ran toward it. Ray joined him as they got to the parking lot, Ray with his weapon drawn. A car parked nearby had its passenger door ajar, and they approached it carefully. Inside, they found a body, shot at point blank range.

Fraser's brow furrowed as he recognized the victim. "It's Jolly," he said.

Ray put his gun away. "No sign of Victoria, or anybody else for that matter. Tell me the truth, Fraser – could she have done this?"

"If your information is correct, he's been chasing her for weeks. I'm sure if she did this, she had justification."

"Not for me to decide. All I wanted to know was if you thought she was capable of killing somebody, and it sounds like that's a yes." He took out his phone. "I need to call this in." He dialed the precinct, and had a very short, very tense conversation, during which he shot more than one concerned look at Fraser. It got heated at the end, and Ray hung up with a scowl.

Fraser had a pretty good idea as to what he'd been told to do. "Are you going to arrest me, Ray?"

"What? No! But we tried this your way and it didn't work, and we both know that you cooped up at the station isn't going to help. Come on." He grabbed Fraser's arm to pull him along, but he remained where he was.

"I can't just run from my responsibilities."

Ray blew out a breath, trying to remain calm. "It isn't running – it's giving you breathing space. And it's giving us time to figure out what's really going on, how to clear you."

"Why are you so certain that going to the station is a bad idea? Lieutenant Welsh has already said he doesn't think I'm capable of the crimes involved, and that was before murder got added."

"Yeah, but Jolly getting killed just kicked this up a notch and I'm betting it won't be Welsh's show anymore – IA's back and they're taking over, and I don't trust them to look past the first vaguely possible scenario they come up with. Once they get an idea in their heads, it doesn't matter what the rest of us say, or what your record is."

Fraser stood his ground. "I can't let you do this, Ray. If you've been ordered to bring me in, you have to do so. I won't put up a fight."

Ray threw up his hands in frustration. "Well I will! There is no way I'm taking you in for something you didn't do! IA doesn't know you – I do. You're my partner, Benton Fraser. More than that, you're my friend."

"Was that hard to say?"

"Not even a little bit. Now come on. I grant you – what's that nuthouse word?"

Fraser tilted his head, thinking. "Asylum?"

Ray nodded. "Yeah. You can have asylum in Kowalski-land until we have a plan. And if you still feel guilty about it, you can turn yourself in. Later. Okay?"

Fraser nodded, hints of a smile around his eyes. "Okay, Ray." They waited by the car until they heard sirens, then went back to Ray's car and left, Fraser obviously still torn about the decision.

"So," Ray started once they were safely away from the zoo, "where to? Where's the most likely place to find her?"

"I'm not sure. I know she's checked out of her hotel, and I can't honestly imagine her going back to my apartment." He frowned at that.

"What? You've thought of something."

"Just that I wish we could stop by, but I'm sure it isn't safe if you're determined I avoid the police. Present company excepted."

"Yeah, that'd be the first place they'd go, with my place a close second pretty soon. Is there something you needed?"

"I wanted to check my trunk. My service revolver is in there, and with everything that's happened…"

Ray gaped at him. "You still won't carry, but you'll leave a weapon in a trunk in an unlocked apartment?"

"It isn't loaded, and can we can argue over my priorities later, Ray?"

Ray switched lanes, shaking his head. "For this, we can risk getting caught. Because if it isn't there, we're in even bigger trouble than I thought."

Amazingly, they were able to sneak into the apartment, and once there Ray opened the trunk, shuffling through it quickly. "It isn't here."

Fraser had been looking around the apartment for some sign Victoria had been there, but that stopped him. "What?"

"It's not here. When's the last time you saw it?"

"It's been several days, since-"

"Since Victoria showed up. Okay, so we can add that to her list of things she can use against you." He stood up. "Ready?"

Fraser frowned at that, but all he said was, "Ready."

Once they were on their way, Fraser said, "You really think Victoria is behind all of this. That she burned my father's cabin to the ground and concocted this entire thing as revenge."

Ray nodded. "Yeah. What I can't believe is that you don't see it. Come on – she had time to plan, she had motive – it's all there. And with the evidence that's been mounting up-"

"Most of which is circumstantial," Fraser interrupted to add.

Ray rolled his eyes at that. "Pretty amazing set of coincidental circumstances then, Fraser. Especially the dead body in a place the police know we went. She's set you up."

Fraser looked out the window. "I don't know if I can believe that."

"Whether you can or can't, it's what's happened. You need to stop sailing on the river denial and face facts." He started toward the door, then shook his head and went to the fire escape instead. "We're out of here. I know a couple of safe places we can crash."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray took them to a place not too far from Fraser's apartment, but in a decidedly less reputable part of town. Considering what Ray thought of his neighborhood, Fraser was surprised. "You think this is safe?" he had to ask.

"Compared to staying somewhere that we'll be found immediately, yeah. I've had to hole up here a couple of times and it's safe as long as you act fearless and never let your guard down." He pulled out his phone. "I'm gonna call the station, see if I can find out what's going on." Ray dialed, shifting from foot to foot impatiently as the phone rang. He was relieved when Frannie answered. As soon as he started talking, she interrupted.

"Oh my God, Ray, where are you?" She lowered her voice to a near whisper. "Is Fraser with you? Is what they're saying around here true?"

"Frannie!" Ray barked, cutting off the stream of questions. "Relax, and pretend I'm just some normal caller, before someone catches on."

"Right," she said, taking a deep breath. "Yes, this is the 27th precinct, sir," she continued brightly. "Do you have information for us about a case?"

"Not enough to come in, not yet," Ray replied. "But I know where Fraser is, and we're both fine and working on clearing him. What's it like there?"

"Yes, sir, we are extremely busy, helping the citizens of Chicago." She went on, quieter, "It's crazy. IA is here, Welsh is furious with you, and Huey and Gardino are looking for you both. And I heard something about Fraser shooting someone, but he doesn't have a gun, right?"

"Dammit," Ray swore softly. "Well, now we know she has it."

"She? She who?"

"Never mind, Frannie. You've been a big help. Thanks. Hey, I need to-"

"Just a second," she interrupted, and he could hear another voice in the background.

"Ray," it was Elaine now, not Frannie, "don't hang up - I have to tell you something. I did some more digging on Victoria Metcalfe, and it doesn't look good."

Ray hung up the phone a few minutes later and rubbed a hand over his face.

"I take it Victoria has my pistol," Fraser guessed.

"Not anymore – they fished a .38 out of the polar bear pool at the zoo, and forensics has gotten far enough to say the bullet that killed Jolly came from a .38 – that's what you have, right? And it's a no-brainer to say that bullet's a match to the one that got Dief, too. All they need to do now is match it to the gun and who do you think is going to take the fall? Because thorough as she is, I'm betting her prints aren't on it but yours are."

Fraser looked like he wanted to argue, but Ray didn't give him the chance.

"Wait, it gets better. IA told me earlier that Victoria Metcalfe is officially dead. Not today," he added quickly as Fraser paled. "At least two months ago. Bad accident, burned up so bad they couldn't ID with dental records. Her sister had to come in to do a positive ID, and I'm betting Victoria wasn't the one who died in the crash. This is getting nastier by the minute." He gave Fraser a sharp look. "You ready to believe she's after you now?"

Fraser didn't answer for the longest time, just stared out the window. Finally, he said, "Are you sure we shouldn't just go in, work with the others to clear my name?"

"We can't, Fraser. Not now, not with IA there. It's up to you and me to take care of this." He rubbed a tired hand over his face. "I'm going to grab us something to eat, and me the biggest coffee I can find. Looks like it's going to be a long night. You stay here, lay low until I get back, and then we can figure out what to do next."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser didn't say anything, just kept looking out the window, even after Ray left.

"You can't still be mooning over her," Fraser Sr. said, and Fraser turned a glare on him before looking out the window again.

"Go away, Dad. You don't understand."

"I understand that she's got you so twisted up you can't think straight. If you could, you'd see that the Yank's got it right."

I can't lose her again," Fraser whispered, his voice cracking.

"You never had her, son. And after what she's done, I don't know why you'd want her now."

The ringing of a phone interrupted Fraser's reply, and he realized Ray had left his cell phone in his jacket, which was thrown over the back of a chair. He hesitated, then decided to answer it. "Ray Kowalski's phone, Benton Fraser speaking."

"Ben." It was Victoria. "I was hoping you'd answer."

"Victoria," he answered coldly, and she laughed at his tone.

"I see your friends have been talking. Who are you going to believe, them or me?"

"Did you burn down my father's cabin, Victoria?"

"Of course I did."

"But why?" he asked, unable to keep the anguish from his voice.

"You really don't know? You took years of my life away, Ben! You could have let me go, but you didn't. I owe you."

"So everything since you've been here has been for revenge."

"Not quite everything, though I admit that's why I came for you in the first place. But seeing you again… we could have something special, Ben. You just need to be a little more open."

He shook his head. "I don't think I can be open enough to condone murder."

"That was self-defense, just like I said before. Jolly would have killed me for the money."

Fraser wanted to believe her so badly. But how could he? "You've been lying to me from the start, why should I believe you now?" he made himself ask, hating the part of him that still wanted her to convince him.

"Good question. I have a better one. If you turn me in again, who do you think the police here will believe? Because I can spin a pretty good story – you should know that better than anyone."

"What do you want, Victoria?"

"Smart boy. I want your help, Ben. There's just one more thing I need to do in Chicago, and then I can go. Better yet, we can, together."

"I have no desire to come with you."

"Would you have said the same thing if I'd asked yesterday? You feel the connection between us as strongly as I do," she insisted. "I love you, Ben."

"You have a unique way of showing it," he replied harshly. "I won't help you."

"Then I won't be responsible for what happens to your little friend. It's Ray, right?"

"What?"

"The way I see it, you don't help me and he's fair game. You don't think that money I planted on you is all I have, do you?"

"He's done nothing."

"He's your friend, and that's enough. But if you help me and I might not have to call IA and get him in trouble."

Fraser's face hardened with resolve. "What do you want?"

Fraser could hear the smile in her voice. "I have a little job that needs finishing…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray walked into the room and knew. Just like he'd known when Stella had finally called it quits, there was a feeling in the air, like the place was dead and empty. He called out Fraser's name, knowing there'd be no response but having to try. For a solid minute he stood there unable to move, to think, to feel. Then he saw his cell phone on the table, swore, and got into gear. He had to find Fraser before he did something stupid.

He called in to the 27th again, directly to Lieutenant Welsh who was, as Frannie had said, furious. "Kowalski! Where the hell are you? Are you trying to lose your badge?"

"No sir, and I can explain, but is Fraser there?"

"Why would he be here? Aren't you two hiding out together, like idiots?"

"Only one idiot here now, sir." He rubbed a hand over his face. "We were together, but he's gone and I thought maybe he'd turned himself in."

"Nothing as intelligent as that has happened around here all day. I want you in here now, detective."

"No can do, sir. I have to find Fraser. And I get that it might mean my badge, but I have a real bad feeling about this. I think he's gone after Victoria."

"After or with?" Welsh asked, and Ray ignored the question, just like he had when it had crossed his mind a few minutes before.

"I have to find Fraser," he repeated.

Welsh sighed. "You think she's trying to leave town?"

"It's a safe bet – things are getting way too hot for her here. That faked death story isn't going to hold out much longer."

"Get back in here and help, then."

"IA'd have me locked up the minute I walked in. I'm more help like this. I'm sorry," he said as he hung up.

He was racking his brain trying to decide which way they'd take out of town when his phone rang. "Kowalski," he answered.

"Ray." It was Fraser, thank God. "I don't have much time. Victoria has me helping with a diamond theft, and I'm fairly certain she's setting you up so that if you go to the station you'll be implicated somehow with all the money from the original robbery."

"Where is she now?"

"I'm on my way to meet her."

"Tell me where and I'll be there." After they hung up, Ray called the station again, and Welsh said he was sending Huey and Gardino as back up. "We'll wait for them if we can, but no guarantees," Ray replied. Then he raced to the train station, meeting Fraser at the front. They were making their way to where Fraser was supposed to match up with Victoria when they heard a shot. Fraser raced ahead, and Ray tried his best to follow, flashing his badge and dodging people as best he could.

He was stalled when he got to a huge throng of people, all grabbing at money that was scattered everywhere. Ray was sure he knew where it had come from. Huey and Gardino shouted at him and he waved them over. "You take care of this – I have to help Fraser," he yelled as he ran off in the direction Fraser had been headed.

He stopped short as he saw them there, Fraser and Victoria, standing there together as normal as you please, though he could see the tension in Fraser's body. They started toward the entrance and Ray just watched, trying to see some sign that Fraser wasn't doing this of his own free will, that he wasn't choosing to leave. He heard a gasp and realized he'd drawn his weapon and started moving forward without meaning to. He strode purposefully toward them, knowing he'd be too late, and called out, "Police! Stop where you are right now!"

Fraser hesitated, turning to look at him. The train started moving, and Ray could see Victoria calling and gesturing. Was that a gun in her hand, or was she just reaching out to help him? Ray pulled his glasses out of his jacket pocket and shoved them on, and while he still couldn't see well enough to be sure, he knew one thing – he couldn't let Fraser get on that train. He called out again, aiming his weapon at Victoria, then fired.

Only, it was Fraser who dropped to the ground as he and Victoria watched. Horrified, he froze for a split second, as everything around him went blank – no noise, no crowd, nothing but his focused gaze on Fraser's crumpled body.

 

Episode 1.22: Letting Go

-Fraser, falling to the ground-

-screams from people on the train platform-

-sirens, and police shouting, trying to get the crowd under control-

-the train leaving, Victoria still on it-

Ray took it all in without being consciously aware of anything but Fraser. He ran to him, not caring if he scared anyone, not caring if they were in his way or tried to stop him. All he cared about was getting to his friend. His partner. The man he'd just shot.

He ran, stumbling and dropped to the ground next to Fraser (not his body, he's more than a body, please let him be more than a body). There was so much blood and Ray was used to seeing Fraser in red, but not like this, never like this and he was paralyzed, stuck, had no idea what to do.

Then Fraser moaned, moved the tiniest bit and Ray was energized, he was focused, he was back in action. He checked the wound as best he could without moving Fraser, even more careful once he saw it had gone into his back. He stripped off his jacket and wadded it up, tried to use it to stop the flow of blood and Fraser made another noise, a pained sound and Ray winced but kept the pressure on the wound.

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder and he spared a glance, saw that it was Lou, and that Jack was right behind him.

"Paramedics are on the way," he told Ray, and Ray nodded grimly.

"I've got him, I have him, you find Metcalfe. You find her and bring her in, you hear me?" He growled it out, trying to keep in check, to stay calm and here. Louis nodded and Ray turned all his attention back toward Fraser.

If they said anything else, Ray didn't hear it; he had more important things to listen to. The rasp of Fraser's breathing – was it becoming more labored? Shallow? Did it sound wet? Should he move him? Just as Ray was starting to panic, the paramedics arrived, and he moved to the side, just far enough to not be in the way.

One of them came over and asked him some questions about what happened, if Fraser had any allergies, who should they call, and Ray answered them all, but if you asked him later he wouldn't remember it; only Fraser, pale and bloody, because of him.

They let him ride in the ambulance; not that he was going to give them a choice about it. But once at the hospital, he was escorted to a waiting room and told in no uncertain terms to stay, that he'd be notified as soon as there was something to tell. A little bit later a nurse came in, but she didn't have any news, just some scrubs in case he wanted to clean up.

Ray sat in the waiting room, staring down at his hands like he didn't recognize them. Then he stood abruptly and started pacing. The wait was making him insane. He kept watching the door, waiting, but no one came through it, which he guessed was good news, meant they were still working, that there was hope. But it was getting harder not to storm over to the nearest nurse or doctor and yell at them to tell him something, anything.

He wondered if this was going to be the end, if Fraser was going to die. Kind of ironic if he did, considering the way his dad had gone. He wondered if Fraser's dad was here, if he was watching over his son, hoping he'd pull through. Or ready to help him cross over. Ray shook his head at the thought; this waiting really was making him crazy, if he was thinking about a ghost. And even crazier considering he wished he could see the guy. He and Fraser hadn't talked about Fraser Sr. since he'd set up shop in Fraser's closet at the Consulate. He wasn't sure whether Fraser's dad was a ghost or a figment of Fraser's imagination, and he was pretty sure Fraser was in the same boat. Now he kind of wished he knew for sure.

"Hey, Fraser's dad," he whispered. "I don't know if you're here, or can hear me. Hell, I don't even know if you're real. But just in case, you gotta make sure Fraser pulls through this, if you have any say in it." He sat down again and hung his head. "I didn't mean to - I thought she had a gun, I swear. And I have to tell him that, so he has to be okay. So I can make it right." He looked up and around. No one was there, as far as he could tell, but for whatever reason, he felt a little better. "You just watch over him. I'd appreciate it like you wouldn't believe."

He heard footsteps and for one crazy second he thought it was Fraser's father, but it was Welsh, followed by Frannie and Elaine, who went wide-eyed when they saw Ray. He looked down at his clothes, only then remembering how dirty and blood-soaked they were. He stood as Welsh approached. "Any news?" the Lieutenant asked.

Ray shook his head. "Not yet."

"But that's good though, right?" Frannie interjected. "I mean, that means they're still working on him, that he's still..." she trailed off, looking lost. "That it's good," she finished quietly.

"Hope so. That's how I've been seeing it too," Ray replied, and Frannie shot him a grateful look.

"Detective," Welsh said, his voice holding none of its usual gruffness, "why don't you take a break, get cleaned up?"

Ray looked over at the chair next to his, and gestured at the pile of scrubs. "Yeah, they gave me something to change into, but I didn't want to leave, you know? In case somebody came by or needed something?"

Welsh nodded. "Good plan. But we're here now." He leaned in and spoke softly. "I think it would make them," he motioned toward Elaine and Frannie, "feel better."

"Yeah. Okay. I'll just - yeah." He picked up the clothing. "I'm just gonna go change, wash up a little. But I'll be just down the hall. And I have my cell if they come by with news."

"We'll make sure to find you, Ray," Elaine assured him.

"Okay," he said, then walked off reluctantly. Frannie made an abortive move to hug him, settling for a careful pat on his arm. Elaine moved in to give him a one-armed hug. "It'll be okay, Ray. He's strong and he's stubborn, right?" She smiled at him, and he gave her a weak smile in return.

"Right." He went to the nearest men's room, stripped off his shirt and trashed it. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, he started trying to scrub the worst of the mess off of his arms and chest, where blood had seeped through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. He sluiced off as best he could, then got some soap and started again. Once he was as clean as he could get that way, he stepped into a stall and stripped off his pants, wadding them up to carry with him, then pulled on the hospital scrubs. He walked out and saw himself in the mirror, haggard and pale, dark flecks in his hair, on his neck where he'd missed some spots. He turned away quickly, unable to face himself, to look too closely at a man capable of shooting his best friend.

Ray walked out of the restroom and, unable to face the others again just yet, paced the halls for a few minutes, then sat on the floor just a short way from the waiting room, knees pulled tight toward his chest, forehead on his knees. He closed his eyes tight and tried to pull himself together.

"He's a strong one, but he'll need you strong too."

Ray looked up at that, but there was no one there. Then he saw the doctor at the far end of the hall coming toward him, and got up quickly, shaking out nervous energy. "Doc," he called out. "How's Fraser?"

The doctor spoke as they moved toward the waiting room. "He's stable for now, but it's still touch-and-go," he explained. "We weren't able to remove the bullet, but we did everything we could. The next 48 hours are critical, but he's healthy and strong, so I'd say we're cautiously hopeful."

"Will he be able to walk?"

"Again, no guarantees, and we won't know for sure until the swelling goes down and takes the pressure off of his spine. But it's certainly possible."

Frannie and Elaine hugged each other, and Ray slumped in relief.

"That's good to hear, doctor. Thank you," Welsh said with a nod.

"Can we see him?" Ray asked.

"Not yet. He's in recovery and then needs to be moved to ICU. We'll let you know when he can have visitors."

Ray wanted to argue, but a look from Welsh stopped him, and the doctor left.

"I'm staying here until I know he's going to be okay," Ray informed Welsh, his tone resolute.

"I assumed as much, detective. I'll hold off IA as long as I can, but you need to come in as soon as Fraser's awake. You have a lot to answer for."

"Yeah, I know," Ray responded quietly, and looked off in the direction the doctor had gone. His phone rang then and he went to the chair where his wadded-up clothes were to pull it out of his pants pocket. "Kowalski."

It was Stella. "Louis called and told me what happened. Are you okay?"

"I'm not the one who got shot, so yeah, I'm fine," Ray said, harsher than he'd intended. "Sorry. Fraser's just got out of surgery and they still don't know, but they think he's going to be okay." He breathed in raggedly. "I just need to know, you know?"

"I know, Ray." Her voice was full of sympathy, and it was almost more than Ray could handle. It was certainly more than he deserved. "Do you want to come over?"

"I can't. I gotta be here when he wakes up." He sighed heavily. "Thanks for calling, Stell."

He hung up the phone and rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. He must sound bad, if Stella asked him over. And God, wasn't that something he'd wished for not so long ago? But he couldn't leave, not even for her. He had to stay, to be here for Fraser in case -. He cut the thought off. He just had to be here, that's all that mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was several hours later before they'd let him in to see Fraser, still out cold from all the drugs they'd given him. Ray could barely look at him, so pale and still, tubes and machinery everywhere. And all because of him. His thoughts kept going back to that moment, replaying it, trying to see if he could have done anything differently, but all that was doing was making him crazy.

Ray sat by Fraser's bed and watched for some sign of waking. Finally, exhausted, he fell into a fitful doze. He started awake some unknown amount of time later to hear Fraser coughing. He was pretty sure it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

A nurse came in just then, called for a doctor and shooed Ray away from the bedside as she got Fraser settled, checking his vitals and trying to keep him calm. He put himself into Fraser's line of sight and they locked eyes for a moment. Fraser still looking dazed and drugged, but he seemed to see Ray, and stopped fussing and went back to sleep.

The nurse came over to Ray then and gestured for him to follow her. "What he really needs now is to rest, and from the look of you he isn't the only one."

"How is he? I can't leave if there's a chance – I mean, he's awake now so that's good, right?"

"That he woke up on his own is very good, and he seemed to recognize you, which is even better," she assured him. "I know you want to be here for your friend, but making yourself sick won't help."

The doctor came out then, and the look on his face assured Ray even more. "He responded to stimuli in his legs. It looks like he was very lucky."

Ray closed his eyes and sent a prayer of thanks up to whoever watched over crazy Mounties. He moved to go back into the room, but the doctor stopped him, a hand on Ray's arm.

"Go home, detective. Or go catch whoever did this, but you can't stay here. He'll be out for the rest of the night, and probably most of tomorrow."

Ray was torn, but left as ordered, promising to return as soon as he could, "or sooner if anything changes, because you'll call, right?" he made the nurse promise. He thought about going home, getting cleaned up, maybe even trying to sleep, but couldn't deal with being alone. Besides, he was expected at the station – might was well face that music now.

Other than a severe chewing out and the normal shit he deserved after pulling the crap he had, things were surprisingly painless. It seemed that since there were, finally and thank God, witnesses who could identify Victoria, IA had backed off. That their main target was in a hospital bed had probably helped, but they'd decided to leave Ray mostly alone too. He had the feeling he owed the Lieutenant big time for that. The one thing he couldn't do was work on finding Victoria – he was on leave, standard procedure and other than making himself available for questions and keeping everyone up-to-date on Fraser, could he please kindly stay the hell away from the station for now?

So he did, information in hand on the shrink he had to talk with, another thing he couldn't wiggle out of, especially considering who he shot. Driving aimlessly through the city until he almost fell asleep at the wheel, Ray finally made his way home, where he downed several shots of liquor before falling into bed, still in the scrubs from the hospital, and into a restless sleep.

For the next few days, Ray went to his appointments as required, and to visit Dief, who was healing nicely. Ray could tell he was upset that Fraser hadn't come, and he did his best to explain but couldn't bring himself to tell Dief everything, afraid Dief might reject him.

He called the station as often as he could get away with, hoping to find out they'd found Victoria, but the news was always the same when he called – nothing yet. And he went to the gym, needing to work off tension and nervous energy.

The rest of the time he spent at the hospital, waiting for Fraser to wake up, then having no idea as to what to say to him. The periods of time that Fraser was awake were brief and disjointed, and Ray wasn't even sure Fraser really knew he was there, which in a way he was glad of.

When he got near Fraser's room one morning and saw that Frannie and Elaine were heading in, he turned around and left. It was one thing to have them there that first night, when all anybody worried about was Fraser making it through surgery. But now they'd see firsthand what Ray had done. And he just wasn't ready to face them after that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser thanked Lieutenant Welsh again for stopping by as he left, and refrained from asking about Ray. He knew Ray was all right; Elaine had told him as much earlier. But he hadn't seen him, and his absence was both disturbing and a relief. As he lay there, troubled and lost in thought, his father's voice startled him out of his introspection.

"You know, the Yank tried to talk to me while you were in surgery."

Fraser looked up at his father, surprised. "Ray? He talked with you?"

"To me, son, to me. He didn't know if I was there or not. Asked me to watch over you, though." Fraser Sr. moved so Fraser could see him more easily. "'He seemed genuinely upset, for what it's worth."

"I'm sure he was." Then quieter, mostly to himself, "I didn't realize he'd been here."

His father gave him a look of disdain. "He's your partner, isn't he? Of course he's been here. You'd know that if all the drugs they've been giving you didn't have you so addled."

"I've seen him?"

"When you first woke up. He was here until then, but from the looks of things he had a lot to sort out. He'll be lucky to keep his job over this."

"He did nothing wrong!"

"Good. Glad you have that much figured out at least."

Before Fraser could answer, the door opened, and Jack walked in, smiling a greeting. When Fraser shot a glance toward where his father had been he was, of course, gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack was leaving Fraser's room as Ray approached. He took one look at how simultaneously tense and exhausted Ray looked, and waved him over to the waiting area.

Ray's eyes narrowed as Jack tried to get him to sit down. "What's going on? Was the doctor there? Is there news? Did you find Victoria?"

Jack shook his head. "Nothing like that. Fraser seems fine, all things considered. And no, we haven't found Metcalfe yet, but it's just a matter of time, right?"

"Right," Ray agreed half-heartedly. "So," he said, nodding his head toward Fraser's room, "you two have a good visit?"

"Good enough, I suppose. He's hurting but not letting it show. Sound familiar?" Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "And he asked about you. When's the last time you were here?"

"I've been here every day!" Ray insisted, then went on hesitantly. "He just might not know it, since I don't always go in." He sent a stricken look toward Fraser's door and rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know if I can do this, Jack."

"Do what?"

"Go in there, talk to him. I don't know what to say, how to make this up to him. Jesus, I nearly killed him and he's lucky not to be paralyzed." Ray started pacing. "And he's so damn good at hiding stuff I probably won't be able to tell how he feels about me. He could hate my guts now, but be too polite to say it."

"Well, if he does hate you, which I seriously doubt, you wouldn't have to worry about how to deal with him. Maybe you should think about letting go."

Ray stopped at that and glared, furious. "You think I'd do that? That I'd just leave him high and dry? He's my partner, Jack. More than that, he's my friend."

Jack held up his hands, surprised at Ray's vehemence. "Hey, you're the one that said you didn't want to deal with him."

"No, I said I didn't know if I could. That doesn't mean I'd just stop trying." Ray laughed then, the sound brittle. "You've seen me around Stella, you really think that's how I could operate?" He sat down abruptly, slumping forward, holding his head in his hands. "What am I gonna do?"

Jack moved to put a hand on Ray's shoulder. "Talk to him, Ray. It won't be easy, especially since it's Fraser and you're right, he's a tough nut to crack. But you have to, or you won't get through this, not as partners, not as friends. That bullet wound he has isn't the only one that needs to heal."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray wanted to take Jack's advice, but he couldn't quite bring himself to. He did go into Fraser's room, though, and Fraser seemed not to hate him, which was something. But the conversation was strained and awkward, moreso than it had ever been between them. Ray left feeling almost as unsure as he had before he'd gone in, but determined to keep coming back, and to find the courage to talk things out like they needed to.

A few days later, Ray was there writing down the titles of books Fraser wanted from the library when Jill, Fraser's physical therapist, came in.

"Ready for a dip in the pool?"

"You need any help with him?" Ray asked.

She looked him over. "You're a little overdressed, but thanks for the offer."

"Ray, you can't swim," Fraser reminded him.

He shrugged. "It's not that deep, right? And I figure if I know how to do this stuff, I can help you. Once you're out of the hospital, I mean."

"It wouldn't hurt, I suppose, if your friend doesn't mind," she replied, looking at Fraser, who shrugged noncommittally. "Okay then," she went on, "this is going to be a daily routine, always at this time. So just come by tomorrow and bring swim clothes – you can change at the therapy pool."

"Great," Ray replied with a fervent nod. "Greatness." He turned his attention to Fraser. "Okay, you have stuff to do, so I'm just gonna go for awhile. I'll be back this afternoon, though, and we can start on what I'm going to need to know to help you fix your dad's place back up." He moved quickly to the door, waving the list. "I'll see you later."

He could still hear them as he stood outside the door shrugging on his jacket. "He's a very dedicated friend."

"Yes, he is."

"And he's a cop, right? You think he'll find the guy who shot you?"

"Ray is the one who shot me."

It was matter-of-fact, devoid of any emotion, and it hit Ray in the gut. He fled before they could see he was still there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray kept at the punching bag well past when he should; he could feel his muscles protesting, and knew he'd be more than sore later, but he didn't stop.

"Hey, Ray," Willie Lambert called out as he walked over.

Ray tried not to show his surprise; he'd been so focused he hadn't heard Willie approach. He kept punching the bag for a few more hits, then said, "Hey, Willie," back as he grabbed the bag to stop it swinging.

"Thought you'd be at the hospital," Willie remarked. Ray wondered how he looked to Willie; the kid was talking to him way too carefully, like he was afraid Ray might freak or something. "Everything okay there?"

Ray took a few deep breaths before he answered. "Yeah," he finally said. "Yeah, pretty sure. Fraser's stable, so that's good." He gestured at the punching bag. "Just needed to blow off a little steam, y'know?"

That was an understatement and a half, and Ray knew Willie knew that. He wouldn't have blamed the kid for calling him out; he was sweat-drenched and shaking, way more than he would be after his usual work-out. But he didn't say anything about it, for which Ray was grateful.

"Dief gonna be all right too?" Willie asked. "I kind of miss the mutt trying to pull one over on me."

Ray grinned briefly at that. "Oh yeah, he's going to be fine. Gets out of the vet's in a couple of days." Ray grabbed a towel and wiped his face. "I'm gonna keep him at my place until Fraser gets to go home too."

Willie nodded. "Well, you need any help with him you just let me know. I'll even cut you a deal."

Ray barked a laugh at that. "I may take you up on it. He's already got all the people at the vet's totally spoiling him. Not that I won't, but at least I admit it."

"Cool." He looked at the clock on the opposite wall. "I gotta go. Levon promised to show me some new moves today." He did a little bob-and-weave around Ray, who smiled again; this time it felt more genuine.

"He knows some slick stuff. Just don't let him overwhelm you. If nothing else, you're smaller and faster – use it."

"Will do. See you around, Ray." Willie started to leave, then paused and turned back. "You make sure to tell Fraser and Dief I said hi, okay? And that I hope they'll be home soon."

"I will," Ray responded, putting down the towel and moving back to the bag. "See you around, Willie." He went back at it, though with less ferocity, and after a minute or so stopped, moving to a nearby bench to sit down, head hung low.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gardino waited by Ray's car for Ray to finish at the gym. He finally came out, obviously surprised to see him there. Good, that was the idea.

"You look like shit, Ray," he observed.

Ray stopped in front of him, dropped his gym bag and crossed his arms. "You come all the way here to tell me that?"

"I came to see how you're doing."

Ray did a slow turn. "Now you've seen me. Satisfied?"

Gardino shook his head. "Cut the crap, Kowalski. You know what I mean."

"You've been talking to Jack," Ray responded flatly.

As a matter of fact, he had. They'd talked a lot about Ray recently, including just how hard Ray was taking all this. Jack was really worried about how Ray was acting, but Louis had seen it before. Of course, that had been with Stella, and that comparison freaked him out a little. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the whole thing, but really, the only important thing right now was that his friend was hurting. And that's why he was here now.

"He's my partner, that's what partners do," was all Gardino said. "They talk to each other."

"You have any news on Victoria?"

Gardino rolled his eyes at the change of subject. "No."

"Then maybe you shouldn't be wasting your time here with me. Maybe you should be out looking for her."

"Maybe there are other people involved," he countered. "Maybe they know to call me the minute they hear anything. Maybe you need me here more than they need me there." He reached out to Ray, but Ray jerked back. "Dammit, Ray, this is me! Don't be like this."

Ray looked like he wanted to hit Gardino, and Gardino couldn't help but tense up. But Ray must have noticed the movement; all the tension drained out of him.

"Talk to me, Ray. If you can't talk to Fraser, talk to me. You keep on like this and you'll be no good to anybody, including yourself."

"I already have a therapist – standard procedure, remember?"

"And it's someone you don't know and therefore don't trust. I'm your friend. Let me help. God knows you've listened to me enough over the years."

Ray shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, Lou, really. But I just can't."

"Won't, you mean."

"No, can't," Ray insisted. "I need to stop by my place to change out the stuff in the bag and feed the turtle, go to the library for Fraser, check on Dief, and get back to the hospital."

"So I'll tag along. You won't even have to bring me back to my car– I'll make Jack pick me up from wherever."

"I'd really rather be alone, Lou."

"Well, that's not going to happen," Gardino replied, moving to the passenger door. "You gonna let me in?"

"Gardino," Ray growled.

"Kowalski," Gardino growled back, exasperated. "Look, I've left you alone since this all went down – we all have – and it isn't doing you any good. So now you're stuck with me."

Ray tried to stare him down, but it didn't work. Finally, he unlocked the door for Gardino with a curt, "Fine," then went to get in on the driver's side. Gardino did his best not to look too smug at getting his way, and let Ray guide the conversation.

Once they were on the road, Ray asked, "So, how'd you know where I'd be?"

Gardino smiled and shook his head. "That was easy. It's where you always go when you're upset. Bad cases, lousy verdicts… hell, I lost count of how many times you came into the station with busted knuckles when you and Stella first split up."

Ray smiled ruefully. "Yeah, I guess I did at that. You never ragged me for it, though."

"Why would I? I thought it was pretty smart – beat up a bag instead of maybe taking it out on a perp." When Ray didn't say anything, he went on. "So what is it that's got you back here? 'Cause I can think of a couple of possibilities, not that I agree with them, but I'm curious."

"Curious."

Gardino grinned, "What can I say, I was a cat in a former life." He got more serious. "You blaming yourself is my number one theory. Am I right?"

Ray scowled. "How can I not? I'm the one that pulled the trigger."

"And that sucks, but it's not like you shot him on purpose. You have to let it go, focus on how he's gonna be fine. He needs his partner well, right?"

"Am I his partner? Are you sure of that? Because I have no clue what he thinks about me now, and it's killing me."

"I can't believe he'd blame you. That doesn't sound like Fraser."

"Neither does running off with a convicted criminal, one you know framed you. But he was going to do it. After everything, after being partners, after being friends, after me sticking out my neck for him and maybe losing my shield, he was gonna leave with her. Why?" Ray slapped his palm against the steering wheel and looked at Gardino, obviously torn up. "The Benton Fraser I know doesn't do that kind of shit."

"I don't know, Ray. Maybe she had him bamboozled. Maybe he wasn't really leaving. He might have thought he could convince her to turn herself in or something." He sighed, wishing he had something better to say, something that would actually help. "Only one person can really answer your questions, and it isn't me."

"Yeah, I know. I just don't know if I can take the answers."

"If you're going to stay his partner you have to."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They talked some more, mostly small talk and catch-up about what had been going on at the station, and by the time Ray dropped Gardino off, he felt a little better. All he had left to do was head over to visit with Dief, and then get back to the hospital. When he got there, Mr. Mustafi was leaving Fraser's room, and they nodded to each other in passing.

Fraser was looking out the window when Ray entered the room, but he turned when he heard Ray's footsteps, and smiled a little. "Hello, Ray."

"Hey, Fraser" Ray nodded, putting Fraser's books on the bedside table. "You're looking a little better then when I left – got some more color."

"Yes, the new therapy regimen is tiring, but it seems to be doing some good."

Ray tilted his head in the direction of the door. "I, uh, I saw Mr. Mustafi leaving as I came in."

Fraser smiled again, this one more genuine, or at least it seemed so to Ray. "Yes, he came as a representative of the building. He informed me that there had been some sort of lottery as to who would come, and he had apparently lost."

"Sounds like him," Ray said with a grin. He pointed toward some flowers near the window. "He bring you those?"

Fraser nodded. "And the ones next to it are from the Community Center. Mr. Colling and Gladys brought them, along with something for Diefenbaker."

Ray walked over to see what it was, and held up a heavy-knit doily-thing. "What is it?"

"I'm not really sure, and it seemed impolite to ask for clarification. My best guess is that it's either a placemat for Dief's bowl, or a hat."

Ray turned it over in his hands. "Either one of those is pretty scary."

"Yes, well, I'll just let him decide." Ray put the doily-thing down and went to sit by Fraser. "Did you stop by your apartment?" Fraser asked, gesturing toward Ray's still-damp hair.

"Yeah, after I went by the gym and did a few rounds with a punching bag. Winner and still champion, by the way, but it put up a good fight." He looked down at his hands, feeling awkward. "Oh, hey, I saw Willie there – he said to tell you hi and he hopes you and the mutt get out soon."

"That's kind of him. How is Dief?"

"Getting better all the time, and milking it for all it's worth at the vet's. I stopped there after the gym and checked on him. Looks like he'll be sprung soon, maybe even tomorrow." He held up a hand. "But don't worry – I'm gonna keep him at my place until you're up and around."

"That should please him to no end, especially if you 'forget' to bring his kibble."

"I'll make sure to bring it, but if a slice of pizza or something drops off my plate, I can't help that I'm kind of clumsy, right?"

Fraser gave him a look and Ray grinned at how normal it felt. "Dief does seem kind of anxious," Ray went on. "I think he's worried I'm not telling him everything. I might have to try to sneak him in, let him see for himself."

Fraser's eyebrows climbed at that. "How do you sneak a wolf into a hospital?"

Ray winked. "The less you know, the better."

True to his word, Ray brought Dief in the next day. He was extremely happy to see Fraser, licking his face and hands, any skin easily within reach. Fraser, while limited in his mobility, looked just as happy to see Dief, and something in Ray relaxed the tiniest bit. It was the best he'd seen Fraser look since he'd woken up, the most alive. Ray stood by the door, not wanting to intrude and keeping an eye out for hospital staff simultaneously. He noticed a nurse headed their way and moved to close the door, then gestured for Dief to hide in the closet.

Dief went reluctantly, and Ray grabbed him by the muzzle to say, "Remember the deal, quiet and out of sight," as he closed the door just in time.

The nurse quirked an eyebrow at the wolf hair on Fraser's blanket, and Ray groaned inwardly, but she didn't say anything other than, "You're looking better today, Constable. I'm glad to see your visitors are keeping your spirits up." She smiled as she left, and gave Ray a knowing look as she glanced significantly at the blanket again.

Ray breathed a sigh of relief and let Dief out. As Dief went to sit next to Fraser, Ray noticed a pair of binoculars on the table next to the bed.

"You started birdwatching or something?" he asked, pointing to them.

Fraser pinked up at that and shook his head. "They were a gift from Jill. She seems to think there's something suspect going on in the building across the way."

"Why would she think that?"

"Because I told her about some of what I've seen. Honestly, I think she's just trying to keep me interested in my surroundings."

"So there's nothing to what you've seen?"

"I wouldn't say that, but there's no real evidence, so it's all conjecture."

Ray nodded and sat down. "Okay, so conject at me – let's see if there's enough that I should do a little digging."

"Really, Ray…"

"I'm serious. If nothing else, it's something to do, right?"

Fraser caught Ray up on the conversation he and Jill had had, the observations they'd made. "So you see, it's entirely possible that it's nothing. No real evidence, and the likelihood it's something being made from nothing."

"But there's a gun involved, and money and burned photos," Ray countered. "Okay, I'll look into it."

"Are you sure?"

"What's it gonna hurt?"

"So you're allowed to work?"

"They cleared me to go back yesterday, on a limited basis until I get my partner back." Fraser looked away at that, and Ray figured it was as good a time as any to ask, "I am getting my partner back, right?"

Fraser, damn him, was deliberately obtuse. "I'm doing my best to be released from here, Ray. You know that."

"That isn't what I meant. We have to talk about this, Fraser. I know that isn't how you roll, and I'd keep going like this if I didn't think it was killing the partnership." Assuming he hadn't done that already.

"I'm not sure what it is you expect me to say."

"Anything! Tell me you hate me, tell me to go to hell, or go away. Tell me you still want to be partners. Or that you don't. Just, please talk to me."

Fraser frowned at that. "I'm not the only one who hasn't been saying anything."

Ray reluctantly acknowledged that with a nod. "I don't know what to say any more than you do, I guess. But we have to talk, so anything you want to know, ask."

Fraser looked at his hands, deep in thought. Finally, "I do have a question for you – were you wearing your glasses when you took the shot?"

Ray closed his eyes for a moment – Fraser sure started big - then opened them as he answered. "Yeah, I was. But I swear to God, Fraser, shooting you wasn't what I meant to do. I thought I saw her pulling a gun."

Fraser frowned at that, confused. "You thought she lured me away only to shoot me?"

Ray shrugged. "Or me, maybe. I don't know. Love and hate and revenge got all mish-mashed together for her – she might have done anything." Ray's looked away. "It happened so fast, I was acting on instinct. Listen, I don't expect you to forgive me or anything and if you – if you don't want to partner with me anymore I totally get it, okay?" He stood and started pacing. "I put that bullet there in your back, and I have to live with that for the rest of my life. If I'd shot myself I think it would hurt less." Ray paused. "You tell me something, and I want the truth. Do you think you would've been able to live with yourself if you went with her that night?"

Fraser looked at him for a long while and then, instead of answering, he asked a question of his own. "Do you know what happened to Victoria?"

Ray tried to keep his calm as he answered. "Not a clue. I saw you fall, and that was it. I know she was on the train, and Welsh has people following up. I swear, if I knew more I'd tell you."

As the two sat there, tense and silent, there was a knock on the door, and Jill came in. "Am I interrupting?"

Ray stood up and shook his head, still uncomfortable around her, knowing that she knew he was the one that had shot Fraser. "No, I need to get out of here. Got some stuff to look up for Fraser. I'll let you know if I find out anything. And you'll call if there's something, right?"

"I will, Ray," he answered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jill nodded toward the door as Ray left. "He doesn't like me."

"I don't think that's true. He's just uncomfortable being here."

"Serves him right."

Fraser chose to ignore that. "He's offered to look into the situation across the street."

"The one you insist is nothing?"

"I still believe that to be the case. But for whatever reason, Ray said he would check things out."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to his word, Ray did a little investigating, and on the surface it looked as if there was nothing going on. "The drug you saw was insulin," he told them. "Dr. Carter – that's the woman you saw - even has the medi-bracelet thing, and the gun's legally registered to her. And since you two don't have much more to go on, I'm thinking we're done."

"I suspected as much, Ray. But thank you for the effort."

Jill wasn't willing to let it go, however, and that night Fraser looked across the way to see her enter the office, waving at him. Fraser moved to the phone, planning on calling to warn her, when it rang. It was Ray, and it looked like maybe Jill had been right after all – a photographer that fit their admittedly sketchy description had turned up dead, shot in fact. Once Ray was done updating him, Fraser let Ray know what was going on across the street. Ray swore and said he'd be there as soon as he could.

After hanging up with Ray, Fraser was able to get the extension for Dr. Carter's office and called Jill, but before she could leave, Dr. Carter and the intern they'd seen with her came in. Deciding he couldn't wait for Ray, Fraser got his wheelchair moving as fast as he could, arriving just in time to see Dr. Carter pointing a gun at the intern.

Fraser did his best to talk to her, telling her he understood how she felt. And he did. To feel so strongly about someone, to love them only to have them betray you… yes, he knew that feeling all too well. Fraser kept trying to reason with her, but she wouldn't lower the gun, not even when he told her the police were on their way. Just then, Ray arrived, rounding the corner nearest him with his weapon raised.

"Drop it now!"

Instead, she fired, and before Fraser could move Ray was in front of him, taking a bullet in the arm.

"Ray!" Fraser yelled, and dropped next to him as more police arrived and subdued the doctor. Jill got on a phone and called for medical help.

Fraser looked Ray over as carefully as he could without exacerbating the injury. From what he could tell, it wasn't too serious. Thank God. "Ray, what were you thinking?"

"You've already been shot – met your quota," Ray mumbled, grimacing. "Besides, what are partners for?"

"We can talk about healthy parameters for partnership later," Fraser replied, and Ray smiled weakly. "But don't think this gets you out of helping me fix the cabin."

 

Episode 2.01: North

Ray followed Fraser to the hard plastic seats in the airport's tiny lobby, going back and forth between glaring at the guy behind the counter and then at Fraser the entire time. "Is that how you're going to be the whole time we're here?"

Fraser got settled, wincing slightly at the unforgiving chair, and Ray felt a twinge of guilt that just made him angrier. Fraser's answer didn't help. "Is what how I'm going to be, Ray?"

"That!" he replied, waving his hands toward the check-in counter. "The whole 'Please excuse my friend here. He's American.' thing you just did. And don't even give me that what are you talking about, Ray? look – I've known you long enough to speak Canadian."

"I would hope so, as it's actually English."

"Ha ha. I'm being serious here," Ray went on, pointing a finger at Fraser. "I don't like you making excuses for me, like there's something wrong with the way I act."

Fraser just looked at him. "You mean the way you explain my investigative techniques and behavior as Canadian?" he finally said.

"I don't do that. Do I do that?" He sat back. "Damn it, I do do that! If it's been bugging you, you should have just told me, instead of springing it on me like this. You can't let this kind of thing fester, Fraser. It's not good for you, or for us as a team." He slumped further in his chair. "And I'm gonna stop doing it when we get back."

"Ray, it really isn't a big deal," Fraser replied. "I was simply pulling your cord."

"Yanking my chain, and even if that's true, which I'm not sure it is, it's still a crummy thing I've been doing."

Fraser rubbed an eyebrow, then got up to look out the window. "It looks like it will be good flying weather."

Ray took the change of subject gratefully. They were going to be on their own for two weeks; the last thing they needed was to start it out tense. Or any more tense, since really, things still weren't back to how they were before Victoria. Ray stood to join Fraser, shaking himself as if that would rid himself of all the feelings thinking of her caused.

"Yeah, nice enough day," he responded once he was by Fraser's side. "And it's supposed to be like this the whole time?"

"Close enough," Fraser said. "Of course, weathermen can only predict so much, but this time of year the weather usually holds out. It will be a fine time to work on the cabin."

Fraser went to sit back down, and Ray followed. Once they were seated, Fraser looked at Ray speculatively, then spoke.

"I have to admit I was surprised that you wanted to come with me."

"Why? We talked about it more than once. I said I wanted to help fix up your dad's place and I meant it."

"But that was before –" Fraser stopped. "It was some time ago."

"We also talked about it at the hospital," Ray reminded him.

"Yes, I suppose we did," Fraser replied, half frowning.

"What? What are you thinking that's making you have that look?"

"Nothing I haven't said."

"Bull. Give it to me. Whatever it is, I can take it, Fraser."

Fraser rubbed his eyebrow as he answered. "You just seem to be avoiding me lately, so this time together is surprising, that's all."

"Avoiding you? We're partners – I see you nearly every day! And I helped you with your therapy and took you places while you were recovering – does that seem like avoidance behavior?"

"Of course not, Ray. My mistake."

"No. Do not do that. You tell me what made you say I was avoiding you."

Fraser looked like he was going to refuse, then sighed and slumped a little in his seat. "You haven't been to my apartment, other than to pick me up or drop me off, since the shooting. And I haven't been to yours. We work together, yes, and eat dinner on occasion, but it isn't like it was before." He looked at Ray. "So given that you seem to be doing your best not to spend time alone with me, this trip is something of a shock."

Ray looked away and was silent for a long time. He wanted to drop the subject, but now that Fraser was willing to talk, how could he? Just as he was about to speak, the announcement for their flight crackled over the PA, and Ray glared at the man behind the counter, wondering why he'd even bothered using the audio system for just the two of them.

Fraser moved quickly, looking almost relieved at the distraction. Oh well, they'd have more time to talk later.

They collected Dief, who'd been running around the field near the landing strip, and got onto the small aircraft. "You know, the way he came when you called just proves he's been messing with you about the deaf thing."

Fraser leaned in to speak softly to Ray. "The doctors said he'd be deaf after pulling me from the lake, and for a while I think he truly was. I believe there's been improvement, but that he still isn't at normal hearing level for a wolf, which means he might as well be deaf. It's all a matter of interpretation."

"And it gives you one more way to freak people out. As long as you know he's trying to play you."

"It does no harm," Fraser replied with a shrug. "And he did save my life."

"He looks happy to be back."

Fraser looked back at Dief, who had made himself comfortable in the back. "Yes, but he'll be just as glad when we return to Chicago, where baked goods are plentiful."

A few hours into the flight, Fraser leaned over to Ray. "I don't suppose you have your gun with you?"

"You told me not to bring one – said you'd arrest me for carrying illegally," Ray reminded him. Fraser just raised an eyebrow and waited, and finally Ray relented. "I might have brought something. But nothing like the last time. No explosives or anything major." He frowned. "Why are you asking?"

Fraser leaned in closer to Ray to answer quietly. "Because I'm not at all convinced that the man flying the plane is our pilot. He's been ignoring calls, flying under the radar, and we've been headed south for the past two hours, instead of northwest." He rubbed an eyebrow as he went on. "Also, when he shifted just a moment ago, I saw a bullet hole in the back of his shirt, still bloody."

Ray's frown deepened, and he twisted around in his seat, retrieving his gun from his jacket. "So," he whispered, "what's the plan? And do not say wait until he lands, because I have no interest in being a hostage, thank you very much."

"Well, I do have rudimentary knowledge of how to fly a plane, but it's all from reading, not hands-on experience."

"That's one better than me. You confident enough that we should grab the guy, or do we pull the gun on him and make him fly us back?"

The choice was taken from them as moments later the pilot jumped from the plane. They rushed to the window to see him parachuting down. Fraser immediately sat in the pilot's chair and surveyed the controls. Ray holstered his gun and sat down next to Fraser. "Radio's smashed," he said, pointing out its remains. "I'm thinking the guy knew you'd spotted him."

"That seems like a fairly safe assumption, Ray. You should strap yourself in now."

"You don't want me to look for parachutes or anything?"

"No time. We're going down."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Fraser! Fraser!" Fraser woke up to hear Ray calling his name almost frantically. Given that wherever they'd ended up was pitch black, he thought Ray's reaction was justified. He tried to sit up, then winced in pain and reached up to feel what had to be blood on his forehead, sticky enough that he knew the bleeding had stopped, and that he'd been unconscious for awhile.

"I'm over here, Ray. Follow the sound of my voice."

He heard Ray approach and winced again, inwardly this time, at how haphazard his steps sounded. "Carefully, Ray. You don't want to injure yourself."

Ray got to him unharmed, and knelt beside him, helping him stand. "I'm fine," Fraser assured him. "Just a bump on the head, but I don't think it's serious."

"I don't know, Fraser," Ray sounded concerned. "It doesn't look too good."

"Well, head wounds always look worse than they are. They bleed more-" Fraser stopped. "Did you say it didn't look good?"

"Yeah. I think it stopped bleeding, but it's a pretty nasty gash."

"Ray." Fraser's voice was quiet. "Indulge me, please. Where are we?"

"How should I know – the woods somewhere," Ray answered, confused.

Fraser took a moment to take stock of what he could catalogue with the senses available to him. "It's still daylight," he started. "Approximately 1:00, if my calculations are correct. There's a slight breeze coming from the north, and," he listened harder. "And hopefully the animal I hear approaching is Diefenbaker."

"Okay, so other than the daylight part, which is pretty hard to miss, you proved you know more than me about the Canadian woods. You got an itch to make me feel stupid or something?"

"Ray, until you walked over to me I thought it was night, or that we were underground, perhaps in a cave. Ray, I can't see." Fraser was surprised as how calm he sounded.

"That isn't funny, Fraser." Fraser could hear disbelief, but there was an undercurrent of panic there too.

"It isn't meant to be. It seems that my injury has rendered me temporarily blind."

"Jesus!" Ray exclaimed. "We have to get you help!"

"No, we have to find the pilot. I'll be fine." Diefenbaker came up and nudged his hand then, and Fraser gave the half-wolf a head scratch to reassure him.

"Fine? How is being hurt bad enough to be blind the same as fine?"

"You said yourself the bleeding has stopped," Fraser pointed out calmly. "I'm sure it's just a temporary swelling, and once the pressure is relieved my sight will return."

"Well until then, we're camping out here, not going after some nutjob that hijacked a plane."

"Nonsense, Ray. I grew up in woods like these. I know this type of terrain like the back of my hand." As if to prove his statement, Fraser started moving, and nearly walked off a cliff, with only Ray pulling him back at the last second saving him. The feeling of stepping off into nothing shook him, but he did his best to hide the reaction.

"I think you have some studying of your anatomy to do once you get your eyesight back, Fraser."

"Understood."

Ray walked them in the opposite direction, and got them settled under a tree. "So what do we do now?"

"It looks like you're going to have to get us out of here, Ray."

"You have got to be kidding me. I'm no good at this stuff! Me and Mother Nature, we have a what's-it-called, a detention thing going. I don't mess with her, she leaves me alone."

"A detention… I think you mean détente, Ray."

"Whatever. I just don't think this is a good idea."

"Would you rather I lead the way?"

"Considering you just tried to lead us over a cliff, I'm gonna say no to that."

"Then you're going to have to be the one to get us out of here," he stated emphatically. "Don't worry, I can help. I may be blind, but I still remember everything I learned about woodcraft and tracking."

"You're not going to give me a choice on this, are you?" Fraser could hear the resignation in Ray's voice.

"I'm afraid not."

Ray blew out a long breath. "Okay then," he said. "let me see what I can find to take with us from the plane."

"It's close by?" Fraser asked, then frowned as he recognized the smell of burnt plastic and fuel. "Of course it is. I don't know why I hadn't noticed that."

"Must've been distracted. Can't imagine why," Ray countered. "You sit still while I get us some stuff."

Soon they were on their way. Fraser, as promised, gave Ray directions, explaining how he was making his decisions as they went. If the instruction bothered Ray, he wasn't telling Fraser. In fact, he'd nearly stopped complaining altogether, which Fraser found more than a little disconcerting.

Despite their best efforts, Ray and Fraser ended up going in circles.

"Man, your compass getting smashed in the crash really sucks," Ray groused, and Fraser had to agree; any adrenaline he'd had was long gone, and he was achy and tired. Oh, and blind, couldn't forget that.

"And you're sure we're where we started?"

"Close enough. Unless there were two plane crashes here today." He sounded as tired as Fraser felt. "Okay, that's it – we're stopping for the night, which looks to be happening soon."

Fraser couldn't bring himself to argue, even when Ray led him to a tree and had him sit down by it, using the trunk as a backrest.

"You stay put while I see if there's anything else scroungable. It shouldn't take long." He moved away, then called back, "I'll be able to hear you, so shout if you need anything." Fraser felt oddly comforted by that, and settled back against the tree, closing his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray was sorry to find he'd been right – there really wasn't much left to take, though he did find a flare gun that he'd somehow missed the first time. There was also a raft, but he really didn't want to take it. Bad enough he'd been in a plane crash; going down a river seemed like pushing his luck. It looked like maybe someone else had been here while they'd been off tromping through the trees, but that fact he was gonna keep to himself. He knew this had to be freaking out Fraser more than he was letting on, if only because it was freaking the hell out of him, and he wasn't the one who was hurt.

He came back to find Fraser resting, which told him just how not right things were. He tried to be quiet, but Fraser still heard him, stirring and turning toward Ray as he approached. "Okay, so I salvaged everything else I could from the wreckage, which isn't a lot, sorry to say. But at least there were a couple of blankets." He settled one over Fraser. "How's that?"

"Good, thank you," Fraser responded. His hand slid over Ray's wrist as he adjusted the blanket, and he stopped to touch Ray's bracelet. "I've always meant to ask you about this, Ray."

Ray blinked at the touch. "This? I've had it, or one like it at least, since I was a teenager. Got it at the same time I started going by Ray instead of Stanley."

"So wearing it is symbolic?"

"I guess so. Says I'm Ray Kowalski."

"Ah. Like my serge identifies me, then."

Ray shook his head. "No, not like your serge. That isn't you; that's just what you wear when you work."

"There are a lot of people who would disagree with that assessment."

"Well, then there's a lot of people who know diddly squat. Listen, Fraser, I know you, and trust me, you are a lot more than that uniform and what it stands for, believe me."

"Thank you, Ray," Fraser replied, and Ray grinned and squeezed his shoulder.

"Here, take this," he said, putting a candy bar in Fraser's hand. "I know it isn't your usual camping food, but it'll have to do for now."

"I don't know that I'm all that hungry."

"Tough. You need to eat, give your body something to work with to heal you."

Fraser opened the wrapper, took a tiny bite, and made a face. "I don't know if chocolate will be all that helpful."

"Does wonders for me."

"You know, if you help me root around under some rocks, I'm sure we can find some grubs," Fraser offered. "They're not the most palatable choice, but they're perfectly nutritious."

"I'm gonna pretend that was the concussion talking, because the idea that you'd seriously want us to eat bugs is grossing me out," Ray replied, shuddering at the thought. "Especially if you're the one saying it won't taste good." He clapped his hands together. "Okay, now that we have you settled in I'm going to try the fire thing, which means gathering wood. You'll be okay, though, right?"

"Of course I will."

"Shout if you change your mind. I'll be close as I can and quick as I can."

He got done faster than he'd expected, returning with an armful of twigs and branches. "All right, between this and some paper from the plane, I have enough to get a fire going, assuming you can tell me how to do it."

"I could start the fire if you'd like, Steve. I've done it in conditions nearly this dark."

Ray frowned at that, but wasn't sure if he should say anything. Fraser looked pretty wiped out; maybe the name thing was just from being tired. "Noooo, I think I need to learn how to do this, so why don't you talk me through it."

Surprisingly, Ray turned out to be a natural at fire-starting. "Well, at least we won't freeze," he quipped, smiling. It felt nice to be good at this, to be needed, even if the reason sucked.

"That was excellent work, truly," Fraser said as he warmed his hands. "Much better than my first attempt."

"Yeah? Your old man talk you through it like you just did for me?"

"No. Actually, he took me to a remote spot in the forest near our home, gave me the rudimentary instructions and tools and then left me there."

"Jeez, that's a rough way to learn. How old were you?"

"Six."

"You're joking. No, don't answer that – I know you aren't. That's just – that's harsh, Fraser. I'm surprised your mom let him get away with it. Mine would have been all over my dad for doing something like that."

"This was after she died. At that point, it was just my father and me. Now that I think about it, it wasn't too long after that that I moved in with my grandparents." Fraser's eyes started to drift shut, and Ray panicked a little.

"Fraser, hey, don't go to sleep just yet. Is there anything else I need to know? Tonight, I mean, to get us through."

Fraser visibly roused himself. "You have the fire – that's the most important part, I think. Dief will let us know if there's anyone or anything nearby that we need to worry about. He might even bring us something to eat, but I wouldn't hold too much hope in that."

"Not even if I promise him a whole box of donuts?"

"That's between the two of you, Steve." He began to drift off again, and this time Ray let him, a small part of him glad Fraser couldn't see how worried he was.

Fraser slept fitfully, but at least he was sleeping. He was getting worse, and it was scaring the daylights out of Ray. Blind, and now hallucinating... Jesus. Fraser turned over, dislodging the thin blanket over him, and started to shiver. That he was feeling the cold couldn't be good either, considering how immune to it he usually seemed. Ray got up and covered him, then pressed the back of his hand against Fraser's forehead to check for fever. Fraser sighed and calmed at the touch, and Ray gave in to the impulse to brush his hand softly against Fraser's cheek before moving back to his spot.

He hadn't realized just how much he touched Fraser, until he felt like he had no right to anymore. Whether it was a clap on the back, an arm over the shoulder, a bump of the hip, even a playful whap on the back of the head – there had been almost daily physical contact. And since Victoria… nothing. He could barely bring himself to look at Fraser, afraid to see a twinge of pain, or the slight limp he got at the end of a long day. But now, he made himself look, to see how his friend really was.

While he didn't look good, which was no surprise given the circumstances, he did look better than he had the last time Ray had sat with him like this. Of course, that had been in the hospital. Fraser had been so pale and still, all plugged in to machines, tubes and wires everywhere. He'd barely been able to bring himself to look at Fraser then; the sight of his friend like that had made him almost physically ill, especially since he'd been the one to put Fraser there.

Ray shook himself and moved to the fire to build it up. Fraser still looked a little cold. No point in dwelling on the past. They had enough to get through in the here and now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray was already up and moving, cleaning the campsite when Fraser woke up.

"You're awake early," he called out, and Ray turned toward him with a smile.

"You're up – good! Yeah, I don't sleep so well outdoors, I guess." Especially not when he knew he needed to be watching over Fraser, but he wasn't going to mention that. He walked over to Fraser and sat down, bumping shoulders with him. "Hey, Fraser, who am I?" he asked, figuring it'd be best to figure out where they stood now rather than later.

Fraser turned toward the sound of Ray's voice, looking annoyed. "Who are you? What kind of question is that?" Annoyance gave way to concern. "Oh dear. Were you injured? Have you taken a recent blow to the head? What year is it? Who is the presi-"

"Whoa, Fraser!" Ray interrupted, holding up his hands and then putting them back down when he remembered Fraser couldn't see them. "I'm fine, buddy. And I know who I am – that's not why I was asking."

Fraser's frown returned. "Then why would you worry me like that, Ray?"

"Because last night you were calling me Steve."

Fraser 's frown deepened. "I'm sure I didn't do that."

"I'm just as sure you did, and I'm not the one with the bump on the head. And let me tell you, it was starting to freak me out."

"Oh," Fraser replied softly. "I'm sorry to have worried you, Ray. I'm feeling much better now. Let me just-" he started to move to stand, then stopped.

"Ray." The eerie calm in Fraser's voice set off Ray's internal alarms. "I can't feel my legs."

Ray's eyes widened. "What? Maybe you're just numb from sleeping on the ground." He prayed that was it, or that he hadn't heard what he'd just heard.

"I'm afraid not," Fraser replied, and his quiet, straightforward answer to Ray's lame suggestions spoke volumes as to just how serious the situation was.

He stood up and started moving, running shaky hands through his hair. "Okay, okay, think, think… we need to set up a system, a way for me to get back to you. Because I am going to get help and then come get you and to hell with the guy, you hear me?" He could hear how shaky his voice was, felt how barely in check he was keeping his panic, but couldn't stop himself. "I need to get all the supplies together for you, easy reach, find you more water, something to keep it in, and-"

"Ray. Ray. RAY."

Fraser's voice cut through his running monologue. "What?"

"I'm going with you."

Ray stared at him like he was insane. "You can't!"

"I have to," Fraser went on matter-of-factly, oblivious of course to Ray's reaction to what he was suggesting. "You don't know woodcraft well enough to track, or to know what's safe to eat. I don't know how long it will take you, and to be quite frank, I don't think it's safe for me to stay here alone. I'm afraid it will require carrying me, but-"

"This is just more of your crazy super-mountie stuff, like power-napping while you walk," Ray interrupted. "And I can let it slide when we're in Chicago because, hey no reason not to, but this is different."

"Yes it is," Fraser agreed. "Because in this case I'm deadly serious."

Ray knelt in front of Fraser and placed a hand on his arm. The sudden touch must have surprised him; he stopped talking and turned toward Ray, waiting.

"I can't," was all Ray could get out, and that in barely a whisper.

Fraser frowned at that. "Of course you can."

"No, I can't!" Ray yelled, standing up. "I can't carry you. It isn't safe and it isn't smart."

"Ray, this," he swept his hands across his legs, "is just a side effect of the concussion."

"What if it isn't? What if-" he hesitated, then went on in a rush, "what if the bullet moved because of the crash? What if moving you makes it worse? I can't risk that, and you shouldn't want me to."

Fraser's voice was sympathetic but firm. "Ray, we don't have much of a choice."

Ray stalked around the clearing, trying to clear his head enough to make a good argument. Nothing came to him. Finally, he stopped near Fraser. "You want to know why I don't come by your place anymore?" He didn't wait for a response. "Because I still can't believe you really want me around."

If Fraser was confused by the change of subject, he didn't let it show. "Then why are you here now?"

"I don't know. I guess I figured this was like some giant game of chicken, only neither of us backed down and all of the sudden here we are, on the way to Canada. And I was glad, because I thought hey, maybe this is a chance to fix things, to get back the duet." Ray started to pace again. "But me being here made things worse. Maybe if you'd been alone you would've spotted the guy before the plane took off, avoided this whole being stranded and blind and – and everything."

"You have no way of knowing if this scenario wouldn't have happened."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm finally figuring out I'm no good for you, Fraser. Maybe when we get back, we should rethink this partnership. You need somebody you can trust."

"Do you not want to be partners?" Fraser asked quietly.

"Have you not been listening to me? It isn't about what I want. It's about what's best for you."

"I believe I have some say in that. Why is it so hard to believe that I've forgiven you?"

"Because I haven't forgiven me!" Ray replied, anguished. "If I can't, how can you?"

"I'm as much to blame in what happened with Victoria as anyone, Ray."

Ray barked out a harsh laugh. "I think you've more than paid your dues on this one, Fraser. I'm not the one with a bullet in my back."

"No, but you trusted me and I betrayed that trust. The wound I caused wasn't physical, but it's just as real. And for that I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be apologizing. We've already been through this."

"Not well enough, apparently. If we can't get past this, can't regain the trust we once shared, then maybe you're right. Maybe we shouldn't be partners anymore."

"Is that what you want?" Ray made himself ask.

Fraser didn't even hesitate. "No."

Thank God. "Me either." He sat down next to Fraser, and the two were silent for a minute. Then Ray spoke. "Okay, so how are we going to get out of here, partner?"

Fraser smiled and Ray couldn't help but grin back. ""We need to follow the river," Fraser said. "That's what the hijacker will be doing. It will give us the best chance of finding him, and assures that we have water, and possibly food if we can rig something for you to fish with."

"Find the river. I'm pretty sure I can handle that." Fraser shivered and Ray frowned. "But first I'm getting you warm and settled in. I promise I'm not gonna ditch you, but it'll be easier to figure out which way to go on my own, then come back for you. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Ray went over to Diefenbaker, who'd returned earlier and was resting by the remains of the fire. "Okay. Dief, stay with Fraser, keep him safe, okay? And catch him up – I'm betting you have some good stories from last night to share."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Ray went off, Fraser was startled by a voice to his right. "Looks like you two have turned a corner, son. Good to see; the Yank makes a good partner." There was a loud crash and an "I'm okay!" from nearby. "Leaves a lot to be desired when it comes to outdoor skills, though."

"Yes, well, next time we're in a plane crash I'll try to make sure it's Ray that's blinded and paralyzed, so I can do the tracking."

"I see your injuries haven't dulled that sharp tongue of yours."

"Fraser?" Ray called out. "You talking to Steve again?"

"What does he mean by that?" Fraser Sr. asked.

"No, it's my father," he replied, ignoring his father's question.

"Oh," Ray replied, then with more enthusiasm. "Hey, does he have any good ideas on how to get us out of this?"

"You see," Fraser's father said smugly. "He's asking for my advice. You should pay attention to that."

"Not that I've heard so far," Fraser replied to Ray, rolling his eyes at his father's words.

"What about scouting ahead or finding this guy for us and saving us the work – can he do that?"

"That's an interesting idea," he called out, then turned in the direction he'd last heard his father. "Is that possible?"

"Don't know if I should," Fraser Sr. replied. "Doesn't seem right somehow."

"How on earth could that be?" Fraser asked, exasperated. "You are, assuming you're real, the perfect scout – no one but me can see you, when I can see that is, or hear you. If you're going to be here, you might as well make yourself useful."

"I think that perhaps I'm here more for moral support, son."

"Because that's always been your strong suit. Of course."

"Well, you don't seem to want my advice. In fact, I could have helped you get that plane started again, but I didn't think you wanted me to interfere."

"Interfere?" Fraser replied, incredulous. "You could have prevented a plane crash and you chose not to because you didn't want to interfere?"

"I knew you'd see it my way, son. Now you and the Yank go get your man, do your duty."

"If that's an example of support, I think I prefer the interference," Fraser complained. When he didn't get a response, he called out, but it appeared his father had gone, as usual leaving him more frustrated than enlightened.

Fraser felt around, trying to find something to do to keep himself busy, to feel useful. He found some vine and pulled at it, taking the strands and weaving them together. He lost track of time as he worked; approaching footsteps stopped him, but Dief assured him it was just Ray.

"I think I see the way we need to go," Ray said, and Dief whuffed out that Ray had indeed come from the direction of the river.

"You seconding me or telling Fraser I'm way off base, furface?"

"He's agreeing with you. And he can help lead, though he refuses to carry anything."

"Of course he does. I'm sure it's beneath his canine dignity."

Fraser blinked in surprise. "That's nearly a quote, Ray."

"Yeah, well I've been around him long enough to know. Okay, so how about I carry you and you carry our stuff?"

"If we had longer, I'd say I could fashion a travois, but I think that sounds like the best course of action."

"A travois? That what you're working on?"

"No, this is a bola," Fraser replied, holding it up. "It's used for hunting."

"How're you going to use it if you can't see?"

"It isn't for me – it's for you."

"Oh no. No, no, no. I've never even seen one of those things before – no way am I going to try to use it. You can't even teach me how right now!"

"Of course I can. And it never hurts to have another tool at our disposal."

"If you say so. But I'm more likely to strangle myself with it than actually get us food with it, I hope you know that."

"Understood," Fraser replied with a grin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After walking for awhile, Ray was rethinking the plan. "No offense, Fraser, but you are no lightweight. I'm gonna need a break soon."

"If you put me down, will you be able to pick me back up?"

"Good point. But my back is screaming at me."

"What you need is a distraction to keep your mind off the discomfort."

"Any suggestions? 'Cause all I'm coming up with is dropping you and collapsing in a heap next to you, and we just decided that's not an option."

"It's definitely not my first choice, no." Fraser was silent, then offered, "You could sing."

"Sing?" Ray responded, his voice heavy with skepticism. "That's the concussion talking again, isn't it?"

"Not at all. Singing would keep your mind off of what you're doing. It's an excellent distraction, in fact."

"I don't know if I have the breath to do it."

"It's worth a try."

Ray considered it, then finally, he said, "Only if you sing along with me. I am not making a fool of myself alone."

"All right. What should we sing?"

A lot of back and forth later, and the two were going through the woods singing "Satisfaction" as it was the first one they both knew.

When they were close enough to the river to hear it, they stopped to rest briefly, Dief went off to scout ahead, while Ray got Fraser settled by a tree, and started rummaging through their things, hoping he'd find something foodlike that he'd missed. He really didn't want to take Fraser up on the bug-eating thing.

Dief returned fairly quickly and sat next to Fraser, barking out a few times.

Fraser nodded and spoke softly to him, and Ray sat back against his tree and closed his eyes, enjoying the chance to sit.

"Ray," Fraser called. "Diefenbaker's found tracks leading toward the river, fresh ones. He thinks it's our man."

"How would he know that?"

"Well, he says they're a match for the ones near the crash."

"Oh. Good eye there, furface."

"He also says that there were several sets of those tracks to see, some more recent than others. Did it look like he'd been there more than once?"

Damn. Ray glared at Dief as he answered. "Yeah, it did. I figure he circled back about the time we were getting lost, but he was long gone by the time we got there."

"Why didn't you say anything? We could have gone after him right then."

"Are you kidding? I might've been able to go after him, but there's no way you could, and I wasn't leaving you alone. It was a no-brainer."

"But our duty-"

"No!" Ray interrupted angrily. "Right here, right now, my duty is to help my partner stay alive. That's it."

"You have to stop being so overprotective of me."

"I'll take that under advisement, get back with you once we're back home and you can, I don't know, see and walk. Until then, I like my way just fine."

Fraser frowned at that but didn't say anything, and the two sat in silence. Dief looked from one to the other, sneezed and walked off toward the river. Ray watched him go, then sighed heavily and got to his feet.

"Dief's gonna leave us behind if we don't go now. You ready to move on?"

Fraser nodded. "I could use some water." He started to gather their gear from where he'd laid it down, then stopped suddenly. "Ray," he said, his voice sounding off somehow, "I felt a twitch."

Ray looked up from what he was doing. "A what?"

"A twitch. In my foot. The swelling must be going down."

"Thank God," Ray said to himself as he walked over to Fraser. "You feel like they're all back, you let me know. Carrying you is no picnic," he teased.

"You'll be the first to know. And I'll try to control the twitching – I'd hate to kick you accidentally."

"Yeah, you kick my ass enough already without doing it for real." He bent down and reached for Fraser. "Here we go, on three."

They made it to the river without any trouble. Ray set Fraser down and got them both water, which they downed greedily.

"How're the legs?" Ray asked as he refilled his water bottle.

Fraser's brow furrowed as he concentrated. "The same, it appears."

"Give it time." Ray looked at the river, watching how fast it moved, and shook his head. "Okay, I know you wanted us to use the raft from the plane to go down the river, but now that we're here I'm thinking that with your legs and my crappy lack-of-swimming ability, we should maybe rethink that plan."

"I still think it's our best option, Ray."

"Yeah, and you thought my name was Steve yesterday. But," he went on, before Fraser could respond, "I'm thinking we could use this to flush our guy out, maybe use it as bait."

Which is what they did. As Ray got things set up, Dief kept watch and Fraser continued his work on the bola, stopping every so often to check his legs. Ray looked over at one point to see Fraser twitch his foot, and he wasn't sure which of them was more relieved.

As Ray started to make his way over to Fraser, a shot rang out, and Ray ran the remaining distance to make sure Fraser wasn't a target. He and the hijacker exchanged fire, neither man hitting the other. Ray swore as his gun clicked, empty.

"Here, Ray, take the bola," Fraser offered.

"Nah, I've got a better idea," Ray replied, fumbling around in their makeshift pack. Ray pulled out the flare gun, then took a deep breath to steady himself, stood and fired. The shot went wide and high, hitting the rocks above the hijacker's head, and Ray once again cursed the luck that his glasses had been broken in the crash.

But then there was a grinding noise, and as Ray and the hijacker watched, the rocks above the hijacker's head shifted and fell, pinning him to the ground. Ray whooped and Fraser turned toward him quizzically.

"Got him!" Ray crowed. "And I still have a flare left."

"That's good, because I think I hear a plane."

Ray looked up and sure enough, there was a plane overhead. He fired the last flare, then turned to Fraser.

"Can I have that bola now? I'm thinking it will make a great rope." Fraser handed it right to him with a smile.

"Here you go, and if you need help with the knots, let me know."

"You can do them blind? What am I saying - of course you can."

"Probably. But I won't have to. Everything's a blur, but my sight is definitely coming back, as is the feeling in my legs."

Ray smiled widely, and at Fraser's urging helped him to his feet. Fraser was shaky, but able to stand.

"It's good to have you back, partner."

"It's good to be back, Ray. And since it looks like I'll be fine, I don't see any reason not to go back to our original plans."

"You still want to work on your dad's cabin?"

"Oh, yes. Especially now that I know you're such a quick study and outdoorsman."

 

Episode 2.06: Mask

"So, these are some pretty important whatchamacallits, right?" Ray said, indicating the masks on the wall with a nod.

"Yes, though I believe the correct technical term for them is Tsimshian transformation masks."

Ray chuckled. "Hey, it was that or mangle the real words. Which is the worse choice?"

"So you used the term as a gesture of respect. Forgive me for not recognizing the fact immediately." Fraser smiled at Ray to take any sting out of the words. "The masks are quite rare and valuable, not only in a monetary but a cultural sense."

"Yeah, I know, the two masks are some kind of religious symbol, and were separated for like a hundred years. So this is a big deal because it's the first time they've been together since then, right?"

"Right," Fraser replied, a little stunned.

Ray grinned and pointed to the placards next to the masks. "Don't be so shocked. I read about it while you were messing with the lasers."

"Ah, that does explain it. I didn't think we'd talked about the exhibit in that much detail."

"Oh yes we have, just not those particular details. Mostly you've been going on about the security, which is cool, because I like that kind of thing. Oh, and about how we have to get everything just right, so maybe the Ice Queen will finally see that you're more than a glorified combination of statue and gofer." They turned a corner, and the woman in question was right there, but luckily she was so involved with one of the museum curators that she hadn't heard what Ray had said.

Ray glared at the look of relief he must have seen cross Fraser's face. "You need to stand up for yourself with her, Fraser," he said softly. "She's wasting you there."

"My last attempt didn't go so well, as you recall," Fraser reminded him, referring to the circumstances that led to his brief period of unemployment when Inspector Thatcher first transferred to Chicago.

Ray snorted at that, but had the grace to look a little embarrassed, since some of Fraser's actions at that time had been at Ray's urging.

"That was before she really knew you. I think you should try again."

"I think that as long as I'm given ample time to liaise, I'm not going to push anything," he replied, his tone firm.

"She's still making you crazy, though," Ray commented.

Fraser nodded in acknowledgement. "Every time I think I've found steady footing, I find the opposite to be the case. I don't know what I'm doing wrong," he admitted. It had been months since Thatcher had taken over for Inspector Moffatt, and Fraser still couldn't figure her out. He had no idea just what she expected from him, other than disappointment, which he seemed more than able to provide.

He suspected that the majority of her attitude toward him wasn't directed at him personally, but from past experiences she couldn't help but overlap onto new working relationships. Knowing that didn't make it any easier, of course.

"Maybe she has the hots for you and doesn't want you to know about it," Ray teased. "She's, you know, deflecting."

"I sincerely doubt that," he replied. "Inspector Thatcher seems quite immune to any of the 'Mountie charm' you keep saying I have."

Ray shrugged. "So she's the exception. It was just a thought."

"Your ex-wife doesn't like me either," Fraser went on, hoping to shift the subject away from Inspector Thatcher before she heard them.

"Yeah, well Stella doesn't have the best taste in men," Ray replied, gesturing to himself. "Living proof." He bumped shoulders with Fraser. "So are we ready to blow this popsicle stand, or does Thatcher not liking you mean you have to stay and rearrange the exhibit or clean it all with a toothbrush or something?"

"There shouldn't be anything else, but I'll go make sure."

Fraser returned almost immediately. "We can go. In fact, it was almost an order."

"Cool! You hungry?"

"Yes, actually. But I do want to check the perimeter one more time."

Ray nodded as if he'd expected that. "Not a problem. You want me to go with, or circle around the other way?"

"You don't have to-"

"Fraser," Ray interrupted. "The sooner we look, the sooner we eat. So I'm helping. Deal with it."

Everything looked fine, but Fraser couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. As he and Ray made their way back to Ray's car, the sound of alarms stopped them both. "You've got to be kidding me!" Ray exclaimed as they started to run back toward the museum. "We haven't even been out of there five minutes!" He pulled out his gun. "I'll go inside, check with the night watch. You keep an eye out out here."

Fraser spotted someone on the roof and started pursuing them, but before he could catch the man he was chasing, a large black bird flew right into his path. Fraser flinched back instinctively, lost his footing, and ended up dangling by his fingertips off the edge of the roof.

As he slipped and fell into the dumpster below, Fraser realized that the man he'd been after seemed very familiar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray found one of the thieves in the room where the masks had been, but of course they were nowhere to be found; they never had it that easy. He cuffed the guy, Mirandized him and removed his mask, surprised to see that it was a teenager. What the hell would a kid want with ceremonial masks? Ray let the thought slide as he got the kid up and started them toward the museum entrance. He could hear the sirens of approaching police cars over the alarms still blaring throughout the building.

"Looks like it's your fifteen minutes, kid. Hell of a way to get famous," Ray said as he got them through the door and over to an officer he recognized.

"Hold up a minute," Ray said as the kid was put in the back of the blue and white. "I need to find my partner, see if he…" Ray trailed off as he spotted Fraser coming around the side of the building, alone. "Never mind. We'll make sure everything's taken care of here. You just get this guy to the station safe and waiting for us, okay?"

"Sure, detective."

Ray jogged over to Fraser, his surprise at seeing his partner alone turning to worry as he got close enough to see that Fraser was mussed up and moving stiffly. "What happened?"

"Sorry, Ray," Fraser began. "I was chasing one of the thieves across the roof, but I lost him when I fell."

"What?! Run that by me again."

Ray could see Fraser fight to keep his face impassive. "Well, it's pretty hard to get back up on a roof, so I lost him."

"I don't care about that, you freak," Ray replied, waving a hand dismissively. "It's the part where you fell off the roof that's bugging me. Why the hell are you even walking around?"

"I'm fine, Ray. There was a dumpster below me that broke my fall."

"That explains the mess," Ray plucked some shredded paper off of Fraser's shoulder. "But I still think you need a doc to look you over."

Fraser frowned. "You're being overprotective again."

"And you're being stubborn." The two stared at one another for a minute, then Ray sighed and shook his head. "Will you at least promise to go if anything – and I mean the slightest little anything – starts hurting in your back?"

Fraser nodded. "I can do that."

"Okay," Ray started to clap Fraser on the shoulder, but thought better of it. He began walking toward his car and gestured for Fraser to follow. "Let's go see what we can find out from the guy I caught."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'The guy' was actually a minor, and a close-mouthed one at that. His only real reaction had been a widening of his eyes when he saw Fraser walk in. Otherwise he sat silently, making birds out of scraps of paper. Fraser, Ray noted, was watching the young man very closely, and finally, he said something in some kind of gibberish that made the boy look up with a start, then go back to folding paper. Fraser seemed unsurprised, and Ray could see a fleeting look of satisfaction cross his partner's features.

Just as he was about to ask what Fraser had said, the door opened, and Elaine came in with information on their suspect's identity. They followed her into the hall, and once they'd gotten David's name, and the fact that he was Canadian, from Elaine, Fraser turned to answer Ray's unspoken question. "Tsimshian."

"That's what you were speaking? Wait, that's the same as the masks, right?"

"Yes, which gives the young man a motive. He could be trying to return the artifacts to his people."

"Speaking of people," Elaine chimed in, "Welsh has some people in his office to see you. Both of you."

"Thank you kindly, Elaine. We'll be right there."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were representatives of both the French and the Canadian governments in the lieutenant's office, as well as Inspector Thatcher. Everyone was concerned about retrieving the masks as quickly as possible, so tensions ran high, and Fraser gave Ray a warning look when he wanted to rail at Inspector Thatcher, who as usual was criticizing Fraser.

As they left Lieutenant Welsh's office, Fraser saw ASA Kowalski headed in their direction, a scowl on her face. Fraser sighed inwardly. Ray was already angry; after another fruitless attempt to charm his ex-wife he'd be depressed as well. She stopped in front of Ray and immediately began her attack. "What were you thinking, bringing in a teenager like that?"

Fraser bristled at her tone and was about to intervene, but Ray beat him to it.

"I was thinking that he'd broken into a museum and helped steal some very valuable stuff," Ray countered. "And don't start with me about him being young – I have no problem with kids."

From the look on Stella's face, Ray had surprised her, and not in a good way. For his own part, Fraser was, while just as surprised, very glad to see Ray stand up for himself.

If Ray had noticed either of their reactions, he didn't show it. "He's a suspect, so yeah, we asked him some questions. And now we know he's a minor, and the social worker's on the way, which means he'll get lost in the system and we will have no lead. Happy?" Not waiting for a reply, he started toward the interrogation room. "Come on, Fraser. Maybe you can let him know, in a completely safe and unthreatening way, of course, that if he wants to talk, we're available."

"Of course, Ray," Fraser nodded toward Stella as he went to follow Ray. "Ms. Kowalski."

Child welfare arrived soon after that, having offered to house David temporarily. Fraser and Ray followed them out.

"So, from what everybody was saying in Welsh's office, maybe the kid," Ray nodded toward David, who was far enough ahead to be out of hearing range, "figured he had some claim. That what you're thinking?"

"It's certainly possible. As I said earlier, the actual ownership of the masks is in dispute, and David's people, unlike some others, seem to want them back for their religious symbolism rather than any monetary value."

"Pretty ambitious thing for a kid to take on, though. I have to wonder about his partner, just how - hey!" Ray saw David push the social worker roughly, then run. "You go after the kid. I'll catch up after I make sure she's okay."

Fraser was already moving as Ray spoke. Unfortunately, even having more experience in Chicago couldn't help him corner the boy, who lost Fraser on the El, waving goodbye while Fraser watched from the platform.

Inspector Thatcher was not going to be pleased.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray dropped him off soon after that, promising to pick him up the next day unless Fraser needed him sooner, "what with the fall and all," and a tired Fraser opened the door to his apartment to see a familiar face. "Eric."

"You don't seem surprised to see me."

"Should I be? After our encounter on the roof, it was inevitable that we'd meet," Fraser responded, closing the door.

"Not sure what you mean by that. I've been here most of the evening, waiting for you." He gestured toward Diefenbaker. "You can ask the wolf if you don't believe me."

Fraser ignored that, too tired to argue. "If you're looking for information on David's whereabouts, I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place."

"You've seen him, then."

"Yes, but he declined to stay with the social worker, in a very aggressive manner, I might add."

Eric shook his head at that. "Bull-headed, that one. I was hoping to find him before he got into trouble."

"And yet you came to me, an officer of the law, not for help but for information."

"That's your interpretation, Mountie."

Fraser sighed. "I really don't have it in me to do this verbal tap dance tonight. Is there anything else you wanted?"

"I need to find David, before he gets himself into real trouble. He's here with another boy from the village, because of the display at the museum."

"I gathered as much when he was caught there. If you have some way to contact him, I'd suggest you use it, and tell him that his actions tonight were completely unnecessary, and that I don't believe the social worker will be pressing charges."

"If I had a way, I'd let him know. You were my best lead. Can you help?"

Fraser heard the unspoken challenge Will you? and frowned. "Yes, but not tonight."

"Fair enough. You look pretty beat up."

"Falling from a building can do that."

Eric chuckled at that. "You haven't changed. Still taking crazy risks."

Fraser acknowledged that with a nod. "So, do you have a place to stay tonight? If not, you're welcome to stay here."

Eric gestured toward the bed and gave Ben a look. "Looks pretty small."

"I'd take the floor. I have a sleeping roll."

"Nah," Eric replied, going toward the fire escape. "Out here is better. It's not the cleanest air, but at least I won't be cooped up. Thanks for the hospitality."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser awoke the next morning to the sounds of people and the smell of food cooking. He opened his eyes to see not Eric, but a young girl staring at him… no, at a ball next to his head. He handed it to her and she ran off.

"Finally up!" Eric said as he moved through the crowded apartment to stand by Fraser's bed. "City life has made you soft, Mountie."

"I didn't realize you'd brought people with you, Eric," he said as he sat up, looking around.

"Family," Eric replied with a shrug. "They're all worried about David."

"I recognize them," Fraser said, acknowledging those he knew with a nod and hello.

"So, where do we start?"

"We start with me getting dressed. Then I want to have a talk with you about last night, and how you let me fall from that roof."

"I told you, I was here. You know, maybe it was Raven, making you see things that weren't."

"I saw what I needed to, Eric," Fraser responded as he got up and grabbed his uniform, holding it modestly over his long underwear. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He came back as quickly as he could, and found that everyone had made themselves even more at home. They'd even brought a television, and were setting it up when Fraser came in.

One of David and Eric's relatives asked Fraser if he wanted any breakfast, but he declined as politely as possible, then motioned for Eric to join him at the door. "Unless you'd rather stay here and let Ray and I do the follow up?"

Eric shook his head. "They have the TV and a guide book to the city. They'll be fine," he replied and the two headed out to meet Ray.

Ray was on the stairs talking with one of Fraser's neighbors when Fraser and Eric got outside, but quickly said his goodbyes and quirked an eyebrow at Eric as he walked toward them.

"Ray, this is Eric. He's David's uncle and has come to help us find him."

Ray gave Eric an appraising look, and Fraser wondered if he recognized Eric from their first case together. If so he didn't acknowledge it; he held out his hand for Eric to shake. "Ray Kowalski. You have any ideas on where to look?"

"He rented a car," Eric replied, holding out a receipt. "Using a card he shouldn't have."

Ray looked the paper over, then nodded. "I know the place. Come on." Ray unlocked the passenger doors, then went to his side, but stopped as he looked at Fraser's building.

"Is that smoke?" Ray turned to Fraser, alarmed. "Fraser, why is there black smoke coming out your window?"

Fraser tugged on his collar. "Eric didn't come alone. Some of their family is here as well. The smoke is from a cooking fire."

"It's an arson charge waiting to happen is what it is. You got hungry guests? Here," Ray replied, tossing Fraser his cell phone. "Order them a pizza before they burn the building down."

"For breakfast?"

"Okay, maybe not. But seriously, that is a disaster in the making."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The guy working at the rental place was helpful, having taken both the fake address David had given him and the address on a boarding house receipt he'd seen. They followed up on the second address to find the rental car, stripped.

Ray watched Fraser and Eric go over the scene, each finding things he couldn't even see. The way they were talking together, the easy back and forth, bothered him. He stayed back, watching them and absently petting Dief, who was happily munching on the remains of a hamburger they'd found.

Fraser stood and waited as Eric kept moving, and Ray could tell by Fraser's expression that he'd found something the other man had missed.

When Eric came back, he looked and then nodded. "You haven't completely lost your skills, Mountie," he said with a nod of approval.

"David doubled back to throw us off the trail," Fraser explained.

"So he's inside?" Ray responded. "What are we waiting for?"

He wasn't inside, as it turned out, nor was there any evidence that his partner Joshua Springer, another boy from the village, according to Eric, had ever been there. But they did find the masks under a floorboard.

As he retrieved them, Ray gave Fraser a look. This had been too easy.

Easy or not, the museum was thrilled to have the masks back, as were the Canadian and French representatives, and even Inspector Thatcher had been pleased.

"Are you going to say anything, Fraser?" Ray asked.

"About what, detective?" Thatcher wanted to know.

Fraser shot Ray a look, then turned back to Thatcher. "It's just that we believe this was all too easy, sir."

"Too easy. And that's a problem."

"It might be."

"Well, let me give you a different problem." She handed Fraser an envelope. "Here's a table's worth of tickets for the opening night event. I expect you to have them sold."

"Yes sir." She left with a satisfied nod, and Fraser turned to Ray. "I hope you know you're buying one of these."

Ray took them back to Fraser's apartment, which was still smoking, though it was white smoke now instead of black. "You want to order that pizza now, Fraser?"

"That's not for cooking, Ray. They've got a sweat lodge started."

"In your apartment?"

Eric got out of the car. "Yes, and we should get in soon. Come on."

Fraser started to open the door, but Ray stopped him with a hand on his arm. "So who is this guy, Fraser?" There's more to him than just some guy here to help his nephew."

"Eric and I have known each other a long time."

"Yeah, I got that from the whole 'who can track better' thing you two had going. Plus, I'm pretty sure I recognize him from when we caught Gerard. Do you believe that he's only here to find David?" Fraser rubbed and eyebrow and Ray pointed. "I knew it! You think he's the roof guy, don't you?"

"He's said it wasn't him."

"Which doesn't mean squat. Seriously, he let you fall off a roof. You might have known him a long time ago, but can you trust him now?"

Fraser sat back. "I'm not sure. But in any case, it seems the wisest course of action is to keep him close, so I can watch him."

Ray shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the idea for reasons he didn't quite understand. "I guess. Just, keep me in the loop."

"Of course, Ray." Fraser started to get out of the car, then paused. "Do you want to come to the lodge?"

Ray shook his head. "Nah. I need to go see if I have anything to wear to a gala."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eric was waiting for Fraser by the door. "Ah."

"What?"

He nodded toward Ray's car as it drove away. "Chicago makes more sense now."

"What do you mean?" Fraser asked, turning to see what Eric as looking at. "He's a fine partner."

Eric gave him a knowing look, and Fraser frowned at him.

"Don't go stirring up trouble, Eric. Please. Ray and I are partners and friends, but it hasn't been easy, and I don't want anything to jeopardize it."

"Not easy because…"

Fraser sighed. Of course Eric wasn't going to let it go. "Because partnerships are work. My father and Buck didn't speak for long periods of time, as you recall."

Eric chuckled at that. "Yeah. You were always extra-proper when that happened. Still, things are good now?"

"Yes. Ray likens our partnership to a duet."

"Hmm."

Fraser frowned, suddenly understanding Ray's annoyance when he'd give such non-committal answers. "Are you going to elaborate?"

Eric shrugged. "Interesting term to use, that's all. Way I see it, there's two ways that could be taken. One is with one of you as melody, strong, independent, with a harmony dancing around you, making things interesting but not really needed."

"I don't-" Fraser started, but Eric held up a hand to stop him.

"The other concept is two distinct songs that sound okay alone, but together, they make magic." Fraser didn't know how to respond to that, and his silence made Eric grin for some reason. "You sure it wasn't Raven you saw on that roof?" Eric went on. "Got a bit of the Trickster in him, that partner of yours."

Fraser was simultaneously grateful for the new train of thought and annoyed at whatever it was Eric was implying. "Ray is very good at undercover work, so that doesn't surprise me," he replied mildly.

"That would be why he's hard to read, then. Full of contradictions. But if he channels the Energy into work, makes it positive… the rest makes sense."

When Eric again chose not to elaborate, Fraser frowned and muttered, "Only to you, apparently," inwardly wincing at how petulant he sounded.

That elicited a laugh. "You told me not to, remember? 'Don't go stirring up trouble,' you said. Next time," he went on, eyes sparkling with laughter, "be more careful what you ask."

He was up the stairs before Fraser could get him to say anything more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once it was their turn, Fraser and Eric settled themselves in the lodge. As always, the oppressive heat was a shock to Fraser's system, but it seemed as if perhaps he'd found a positive side of Chicago summers – it wasn't quite as bad as he remembered it.

They were silent for a few minutes, then Eric said, "You've got a lot to release. Let it go; you're too constrained."

"You've told me that before."

"True. But it's different this time, Mountie." Fraser could feel Eric watching him, even in the darkness. "You're trying to protect yourself. Understandable, especially in a place as different from home as Chicago. But what you're keeping in, it's troubling. It's at least as dangerous as what you're keeping out, maybe more so."

"I don't know that I agree with that."

"Of course you don't, or you wouldn't be doing it. Sometimes it takes an outsider to see things clearly. We all wear masks, hide parts and pieces of ourselves. They're useful tools. The trick is to know when to take them off. Or to recognize we've got one on at all." He was silent for a few moments and Fraser closed his eyes again, doing his best to keep from being overwhelmed by the heat.

"So, that bullet in your back," Eric said, startling Fraser into opening his eyes. "That a choice you made with open eyes? Or were you like this, wrapped so tight you couldn't see or hear or feel what's around you?"

As Fraser fumbled for something to say, Eric chuckled and added, "You think you can bring metal into a lodge and it won't be noticed? You have been here too long."

Fraser chose not to answer after all, knowing Eric was pushing and not wanting to play his game. He let himself sink into the experience, his mind awash with images, ending with a man, a raven, and the masks, broken.

Later, after the lodge had ended, and everyone had eaten, Fraser took Dief out for a walk. He went to a phone booth a few blocks away, and called Ray, who met him at the diner they frequented.

"So it's just us this time?" Ray asked as he sat down. "Or is your tracker buddy in the can?"

"Eric isn't here," Fraser replied, and Ray nodded at that, looking satisfied and something else. Fraser studied him for a minute, then sighed heavily. "Ray, please don't sit there and tell me you're jealous of my friendship with Eric." Ray stayed silent, until Fraser rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Well?"

"You told me not to tell you, so I'm sitting here not telling you. What more do you want?"

"For you to talk to me, for one thing."

"Make up your mind! Okay, it's just…" Ray waved his hands, agitated. "You know all my friends, Fraser, and most of my stories, it feels like. Hell, you know me better than pretty much anyone. And I think I'm like that with you, and then Bam! Someone comes along and I feel like I'm at square one with you again."

"Ray. While you may not know everything about me, and I sincerely doubt I know everything about you, it doesn't change our friendship. You may not know my past, but you know the man I am now better than anyone. Isn't that more important?"

Ray shrugged. "I guess."

"That's convincing," Fraser replied.

"Sorry. I don't mean to get like this. I made Stella crazy when I'd get like this. It's just – I guess I forget sometimes that you have another life, one that isn't in Chicago. That you have other friends – close ones, I mean."

Fraser sighed. "I don't make friends easily, Ray. You know that. So the connections I do forge tend to be strong, and not affected by time apart."

"Yeah, you can say that again." Ray replied, then winced.

"I'm going to do us both a favor and not comment on that remark."

"Thanks. So, what's the story, morning glory?"

Fraser shook his head at that, but was relieved to see that Ray had relaxed. "I was wondering if you knew any forgers."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray did, and soon they were on their way. The forger, unfortunately, couldn't help them, as he was dead when they got there. But he wasn't alone. Michelle Duchamps, the French representative, was fleeing the scene.

Ray and Fraser caught up with her fairly quickly, and she denied having anything to do with the forger's death. They listened to her story, then took her to the station for questioning.

"Do you believe her?" Ray asked after questioning her.

"Yes," Fraser replied with a nod. "I can understand her mistrust of us, especially since I have a tie to Eric and a sympathy for the Tsimshian people."

"So we wait for ballistics to confirm that her gun wasn't the murder weapon, and then we're back at square one." He grimaced as he saw Stella walking toward them. "Hey, why don't you go see if Elaine has any updates on that?"

Fraser turned to look at Stella, then back to Ray. "You're sure?"

"I've got it, Fraser. Don't worry."

And he did. Stella was displeased, and understandably so, given that the French government was on her back, and that technically, since Duchamps had diplomatic immunity she shouldn't have been brought in at all. But Ray was gracious and, knowing Duchamps wasn't the killer, let her go without a fuss.

Ray watched them leave, Stella looking once again bemused at his attitude, and then went back to his desk to wait for Fraser. He was trying to pull up information on Eric when Frannie came by.

"Green is so not your color, Ray." Frannie said, looking over his shoulder to see what he was researching.

Ray looked down at himself in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

She nodded toward the screen. "I'm talking about the green-eyed monster. You're jealous that Fraser has other friends."

"I am not!" he protested. Geez, first Fraser and now Frannie. Was it really that obvious? "He's a suspect, Frannie."

"Oh please," she replied, rolling her eyes. "It's as plain as the nose on my face. You got the same way when that hockey guy was in town."

"That wasn't jealousy," he countered. "That was being mad that Smithbauer wasn't treating Fraser like a friend."

"Whatever gets you through the night, Ray," she answered, patting him on the arm as she left.

Ray glared at her and then went back to what he was doing, but shut it down when he saw Fraser approach.

"Sooo…"

"Ballistics confirms that it wasn't Ms. Duchamps's weapon that killed the forger."

"Good, because I let her go with Stella. Diplomatic immunity," he explained.

"Ah."

"And we're back to having no suspect."

Which wasn't quite the case. They went through the list of people involved, and came up with a very likely suspect – Daphne Kelly, the Canadian representative.

"You know, people like her are gonna give your whole politeness scheme a serious hit," Ray commented as they went to find her.

The museum made for a likely starting place, and turned out to be an excellent choice. They found not only Kelly and the curator there, but David, confronting them, a gun in his shaking hand.

"I saw what you did. I want the masks. They belong to my people, not you."

Upon seeing Fraser and Ray, Kelly made a run for it into the museum. Ray took care of the curator while Fraser and David chased Kelly, who was holding them both at gunpoint when Ray found them.

He aimed his weapon at her. "Drop it!"

"I don't think so, detective." She kept the gun on Fraser and nodded toward the cases holding the masks, both the real and the forged sets. "Move those toward me, very carefully, if you please. I wouldn't want to hurt anyone."

"Anyone else, you mean," Ray remarked, and she glared at him for a brief second.

"Those masks don't belong to you," Fraser replied, standing his ground. "Do they, Eric?"

Eric moved out of the shadows and smiled at Fraser. "Glad to hear that you know that, Mountie."

Eric said something in Tsimshian to David, who protested, then relented. He handed to gun to Eric.

"Stay where you are, Eric," Ray warned. "Don't make me shoot you."

"You can't aim at the both of us," he replied calmly, nodding toward Kelly. "And all I want is what belongs to my people. You'd shoot me for that?"

"I'd shoot you because you would've let a friend die for some stupid pieces of rock," Ray spat out. Eric's eyes widened, and Ray grinned in satisfaction as he saw that he was being taken seriously.

"Eric," Fraser started. "You saved my life not too long ago, and I'm grateful. But that gratitude doesn't extend to letting you break the law."

"You haven't changed, Mountie."

"I never said I had." He stood there calmly. "Are you going to shoot?"

Eric regarded Fraser, then Ray. "You win," he replied, motioning for David to run. He did, and Eric followed. Ray kept his gun trained on Kelly, and as soon as Eric and David were out of sight, called Fraser over to cuff her while he read her her rights.

Once she was subdued, Fraser went to the cases and opened them. Ray got close enough to see that one case had two masks; the other was empty. He started to say something, but stopped as he saw the tiniest bit of a smile playing at the corner of Fraser's lips.

If Fraser was willing to let it go, Ray wasn't going to argue the point.

 

Episode 2.07: Juliet is Bleeding

There was a knock on the apartment door. "Hey, Fraser – you ready yet?" Ray asked as he walked in without waiting for Fraser to answer. He was followed by Louis Gardino and Jack Huey, who waved at Fraser in greeting.

"Almost, Ray," Fraser replied as he put the finishing touch on polishing a boot. "Hello Jack, Louis," he said with a nod to each as he put the boot on.

"I still can't believe this is where you live, Fraser," Jack remarked.

"And with no lock on the door," Gardino added.

"I've never felt the need for one," he replied, then amended, "that is, almost never." He could feel Ray looking at him and glanced up to give him a let it go, please look which actually worked, somewhat to Fraser's surprise. "In any case, I like it here. The location is convenient, the rent reasonable, and the neighbors are, for the most part, very friendly."

Ray stopped scratching Dief behind the ears to gesture at Fraser's uniform. "What's with the dress reds? You know this is just dinner, right?"

"Yes, but it's a work-related dinner of a congratulatory nature, thus deserving of a sign of respect."

"Whatever, as long as it's soon," Gardino chimed in. "I'm starving."

"We can't have that, Gardino," Ray replied with a snort. "Only once bottomless pit per car, and Dief's permanently claimed the title."

Jack and Gardino frowned at that. "Diefenbaker's going? Where's he going to sit? And what kind of place are we going to that lets in wild animals?"

"Relax, Lou – he's promised to behave himself, which is more than I can say for you."

"And he won't be joining us in the restaurant," Fraser added. "He's agreed to wait near the door."

Jack looked impressed by that. "Really? How'd you get him to agree to stay away from the food?"

"I don't know the details, but I'm sure there's bribery involved," Fraser answered, giving first Ray and then Dief a disapproving look.

"Okay, enough of the chit-chat," Ray said as he shooed them toward the door. "There's only so long a car is safe around here, and we're gonna be late if we don't head out now."

As they walked out, Fraser could hear Gardino ahead, asking again, "Where did you say the wolf was going to sit?" He went back and quickly grabbed a lint brush; Dief had been shedding up a storm the past few days.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"A toast – one step closer to becoming one of Chicago's finest!" Jack's words were met with cheers and clinking glasses.

"I can't believe I'm almost there," Elaine said, shaking her head.

"What's not to believe," Frannie responded, nudging Elaine's shoulder with hers from the seat next to her. "You aced this class just like you've aced all the rest."

"Which I wouldn't have done if you hadn't been helping me study all this time. I keep telling her she needs to give up and fill out the application already – she knows this stuff as well as I do by now."

Frannie gave the statement a dismissive wave. "One cop in the house is enough for now, thanks."

There was more conversation around the table as Huey, Ray and Gardino tried to out-do each other with outrageous rookie stories. In a lull, Fraser leaned in toward Ray. "I need to check on Diefenbaker."

"The people up front seemed pretty okay with him hanging around the side, didn't they?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid that all the smells will override what good judgment he has, and we both know how persuasive he can be." Fraser made a face. "I'd rather not have a repeat of the last time he tried Italian food."

Ray chuckled. "I hear that."

Fraser started to stand, but stopped at Ray's hand on his arm "Hey, while you're up there, if you see our waiter can you let them know we need some more wine back here?"

"Of course," Fraser replied.

After speaking to the waiter, Fraser went to Dief, assuring him once again that if he showed some self-restraint he'd be rewarded. "I think we've known each other long enough that you know you can trust me." Dief sneezed, and Fraser rolled his eyes. "Fine, then trust that Ray is looking out for your baser dietary wants, and will have something for you when we leave, as promised."

Fraser was walking to the door when he heard a familiar voice say, "Pretty long hike from Racine, Constable." He turned to see Frank Zuko coming up behind him, a small entourage in tow.

"I'm attending a celebration for a colleague," he answered politely. "This restaurant came highly recommended."

Zuko nodded at that. "It should. It's the best food in town." He introduced Fraser to the men with him, including Jimmy "Roast Beef," and Fraser knew he was being watched to see how he reacted. Zuko regarded Fraser thoughtfully, then said, "So, this is purely a social visit, then."

Fraser went to open the door, but one of Zuko's men beat him to it. They entered the restaurant and the wait-staff started hurrying to make ready for Zuko and his party as soon as they saw him walk in.

"I'm here with friends and co-workers, and I really should be getting back to them," Fraser replied. "If you'll excuse me." He turned to go when Frannie came toward him, smiling brightly. Then she saw who he was talking with, and her face changed, her smile becoming more of a grimace, her face paling. She looked like she wanted to turn around and leave, but Zuko had noticed her.

"Francesca Vecchio. It's been a long time since I've seen you." Zuko moved to take her hand, kissing the back of it as he looked her up and down. "Too long."

"Yeah, it's been awhile," she agreed, uncharacteristically quiet. She turned toward Fraser, eyes pleading. "We're ready to order, but we didn't know what you wanted, Fraser."

"Of course, Francesca, I'm sorry to have kept everyone. I'll be there momentarily." Fraser responded, and she gave him a small but relieved smile and turned to go.

"Thanks, Fraser. See you around, Frank."

Zuko watched her as she left. "She's a co-worker?"

"She works as a Civilian Aide at the station, yes."

"I didn't know she was working with the police now. Following in her brother's footsteps – not something I'd have expected of her."

"She's very helpful," Fraser responded evenly.

Zuko elbowed him, "I'll bet she is."

Fraser just looked at him, keeping his face a mask. "I don't want to keep everyone waiting, and I'm keeping you from your guests. Good evening, Mr. Zuko."

Ray pulled him aside as soon as he returned to the table. Frannie was sitting at the far end, facing the direction of Zuko's table, and Elaine was talking quietly with her. "What happened?" he asked quietly. "Why is Frannie so freaked out?"

Fraser responded just as quietly. "Frank Zuko is here." He placed a hand on Ray's arm to stop him from going out. "For dinner, just as we are."

"What did the scumbag say to her?" he growled, still too low for anyone but Fraser to hear.

"Nothing untoward, though the look he gave her was unsettling. I think she was just surprised to see him, as was I. But I assured him we were only here for a meal, and hopefully that will be the end of it."

Ray shook his head. "If I didn't know better, I'd say him being here at the same time as us was no coincidence."

"He intimated the same thing in regards to our presence here tonight. Considering that this restaurant is near his home, I'm inclined to believe that coincidence is all it is."

The mood at the table was somewhat subdued after that, and the fact that suddenly the waitstaff couldn't be bothered to check on them regularly didn't help.

Frannie seemed more herself, but partway through dinner she made Elaine go with her to the restroom.

"This sucks," Ray told Fraser. "This is supposed to be a happy night, and now Zuko's blown it all to hell."

"He seems to be keeping to himself, Ray. He knows full well that we're here and hasn't come back."

"He hasn't had to. He's got everyone in the place jumping through hoops and making sure we get the shaft. I've got half a mind to go out there and tell him to knock it off."

"You'll do no such thing, detective," Welsh interjected with a warning look.

"I'm sure Ray was just venting, Lieutenant."

Ray glared at Fraser. "Don't do that. Don't answer for me, Fraser."

Fraser was taken aback at Ray's vehement tone, and Ray immediately looked contrite. "Sorry. This just has me on edge and I don't know exactly why." He glanced around the room. "Hey, how come Frannie and Elaine aren't back yet?"

He stood up and Fraser stood with him. "What, you're coming with me? I don't need a babysitter, Fraser. I heard the Lieu before."

"I'm sure you did. I'm also fairly sure that if I go with you there's less likely to be trouble." Ray glared, but Fraser held his ground. "You've been looking for an excuse to confront Frank Zuko since you heard he was here." Ray kept glaring, but before he could argue, Fraser gave Ray his most sincere look and said, "Maybe I'm just wanting to spend more time with you."

Ray's eyes widened at that, and then he laughed and slung an arm over Fraser's shoulder. "Okay, fine, come bask in my presence."

When they got to the doorway, Ray looked at Zuko's table and whistled. "Jeez Louise. There's no way this is just dinner, Fraser. Those guys aren't his normal cronies, not all of them. And that," he went on, pointing at Zuko and some of the others deep in conversation, "is no idle dinner talk."

"The discussion they're having isn't our concern, Ray." Fraser scanned the room, looking for Elaine or Frannie. "Perhaps they aren't out of the restroom yet. We could ask a waitress to check on them."

"Nah. I need to hit the can anyhow. I'll knock on the door and make sure they're okay. And please don't tell me that suddenly you need to go too. We are not girls, Fraser – I can go to the john alone. And behave myself getting there."

"Of course you can, Ray." But Fraser watched Ray carefully as he went past Zuko's table, and was pleased to see that while Ray walked close enough that he had to have been noticed, he made no move to speak to anyone there. Fraser started to go back to their table when he heard a shout. Oh dear.

Jack and Louis came running as Fraser went toward the sound. They were intercepted by some of Zuko's men, but Fraser went around them to see Ray standing over someone, Frannie and Elaine watching him with a mix of worry and awe. Then someone with a knife tried to shove past him to get to Ray, and Fraser joined in the fray.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The guy was harassing Frannie and Elaine!" Ray shouted as he paced in Welsh's office. "He started the whole thing."

"And you had no choice but to hit him?"

"I could've let him hit me instead, but it didn't seem like the smartest thing to do. Sir. And the guy did throw the first punch, but I blocked it."

Welsh looked to Elaine for confirmation. "That is how it happened, sir. And while I'd like to think Frannie and I would have gotten rid of the creep without trouble, the truth is, he was pretty insistent, and I could see he was armed." She looked out the window at Frannie sitting quietly at Ray's desk. Diefenbaker had his head on her lap and she was petting him absently. "I don't know what history Zuko has with her, but she was really shook up, even more than she showed."

The lieutenant sighed. "While I appreciate your chivalry, detective, not everyone is seeing things my way. Zuko's pressing charges."

"What? What charges?" This came from both Ray and Elaine.

"Harassment, assault and trespassing." Welsh held up a hand to stop their protests. "Some of which I can fight, but here's what's going to happen. Elaine, you can go – this won't affect your record."

"Thank you, sir."

"Thank whoever gave you the good sense to stay out of the fight itself." He turned to Ray. "Kowalski, you're on a week's suspension, without pay, effective as of now.

"You've gotta be kidding me!"

"It's the best deal you're going to get, detective. I suggest you take it. You can leave your shield with me."

Ray flung his badge onto Welsh's desk and stormed out. Fraser hesitated, and Welsh waved his hands in a shooing motion. "Go. Keep him out of trouble if you can, and away from Zuko at all costs."

"Yes sir." Fraser left Welsh's office and saw Elaine and Frannie at Ray's desk. She seemed calmer than she had since she'd seen Zuko; Fraser was glad she felt safe, and had Elaine to help her. Another look around and he found Ray commiserating with Jack and Gardino.

"Man, that's rough, Ray," Gardino was saying as Fraser approached. "But at least we showed them we weren't pushovers. Right?"

"That's true," Jack agreed, rubbing his jaw. "But I think you owe me a filling, Gardino."

"Makes up for the PT I had to do when I hurt my back last year saving your sorry ass," Gardino replied with a grin. "Hey, is anybody still hungry?"

"You still got that tapeworm problem, Lou?"

"Look who's talking. At least I eat real food, not just all the kinds of sugar in the world. I'm thinking Olympo's - you in?"

Ray nodded. "I could use a cup of coffee, sure. How about you, Fraser?"

"Considering you owe Diefenbaker a meal, I think going with you is probably the best course of action."

"Hey, Kowalski, give me your keys," Gardino asked, holding out his hand.

"Olympo's is a block and a half away."

"Yeah, and it's cold and my jacket is in your car. Gimme."

Ray tossed him the keys. "I'm going to check on Frannie before we go. I'll get Dief after and meet you guys outside."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray went over to his desk and sat on the edge, nodding to Elaine as he reached down to scratch Dief behind the ears. He waited for Frannie to notice him, then quietly asked, "You doing okay?"

She started to nod, then shook her head. "I'm really, really not." She sniffled and sat up straighter. "But I know I need to be, so don't worry. I'll toughen up."

Ray frowned at that. "I wasn't going to tell you to do that. You and Zuko have some kind of history. It's none of my business, I get that. But don't beat yourself up for feeling. It's why they don't let us work cases that hit too close to home. Cops have to be able to feel, or else we end up no good to anybody. Okay?" He smiled at her, and after a few moments, Frannie smiled back. It wasn't her usual full-on version, but it was real.

"Okay, Ray. Thanks."

"Okay," Ray nodded. "I need furface here if he's ready to go. I owe him a meal."

Dief trailed behind Ray as they went to meet the others, and Ray had the feeling he was definitely going to be out a few bucks before the mutt would forgive him. Walking up to Jack and Fraser, he started to ask about it, but noticed Fraser's attention was focused on something down the street. "What's up?" he asked as he turned to look too.

Fraser's brow furrowed. "There's something familiar about that man walking away from us," he responded absently, obviously trying to figure out what it was about the guy that had caught his attention. His frown deepened, and something about it made the hairs on the back of Ray's neck stand on end.

He squinted at the guy but he was too far away and it was too dark. Refocusing, he saw Louis going to open his car door, and he was about to yell at him for taking so long when Fraser moved past him, shouting Louis's name. The fear and warning in his voice shook Ray, but before it could really register, there was a flash of light and a huge booming sound as the car exploded.

Jack lunged forward and Fraser held him back. "We've got to get him out of there," he repeated over and over, struggling against Fraser's hold.

As Fraser floundered for something to say, Ray's voice cut through Jack's litany, cold and final. "It's over, Jack. He's gone." He put a hand on Jack's shoulder, and that seemed to get through; Jack slumped against Fraser, almost knocking the both of them over, as if Ray's touch had drained all his energy.

Ray could feel Fraser watching him, but he was facing the burning car, and wouldn't look back to meet Fraser's eye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Based on the evidence that was found in the wreckage of Ray's car, and the events of the preceding evening, they were able to get a warrant fairly quickly and went to search Zuko's house. When detonators were found under his toolshed, Zuko was arrested and taken downtown. Fraser arrived just as Zuko was being taken away, and went to Ray to find out what had happened.

"Ray, that evidence – it seems awfully convenient."

"To us, yeah. To Zuko, not so much. He's going down for this, Fraser."

"I was talking with the bomb experts at the station; that's why I was late. I found out some very interesting information about bombs, and how distinctive they are. Each person has their own signature way of making them."

"Yeah, so? So what if that's true? Maybe Zuko didn't want to sully his hands so he hired the job out."

Fraser looked Ray in the eye, knowing what he was about to say wouldn't be taken well. "I'm not convinced Zuko was behind this at all, Ray."

"Of course it was Zuko!" Ray shouted. "How could you think anything else? Was it coincidence that my car blew up right after we got into it with Zuko's guys?"

"You make it sound premeditated, but I don't believe that's the case. If Frank Zuko wanted you dead, why wait until now? He's had ample opportunity since we last dealt with him. Having you killed now, when there's an obvious connection between events just isn't smart, and while there's a lot about him I find abhorrent, I will say that he isn't a stupid man."

"Maybe this time he was. Maybe he saw a good chance and took it. Maybe his guy started something with Frannie and Elaine so they could take me out in a fight and call it self-defense, only they picked a schmoe who doesn't know how to fight. I don't know! Why are you defending the guy?"

"I'm not. I'm just not sure he was trying to kill you. He had no way of knowing that was your car. It isn't particularly distinctive, and there were four of us in it. And for him to know we were there would mean someone told him, as we arrived at the restaurant well before he did." Fraser took a deep breath to center himself. "Ray, I'm just trying to make sure we're looking at this objectively."

"Look at it however you want. I know we have our guy, and I'm going back in to watch him get booked. You coming or not?"

Ray drove Fraser back to the station after he'd had a very brief look around. The trip was spent in silence, the tension palpable. As soon as he parked, Ray was out of the car, not waiting to see if Fraser would follow. Fraser rubbed his forehead and sighed tiredly, then got out and made his way into the station.

It was relatively easy to find out where Zuko was being held, and once he'd ascertained that Zuko was, for the moment at least, alone, he went to talk with him. Zuko seemed surprised to see Fraser as he opened the interrogation room door.

"If you've come here to threaten and accuse me too, can we just consider it done? I'm getting tired of the harassment." He cocked his head. "Or are you the good cop in this scenario, trying to nice me into a confession?"

Fraser shook his head. "I have some questions, but I didn't come here to accuse you of anything, or to coerce you."

"Then come on in, Constable," Zuko said. "A police presence that isn't automatically out to lynch me will be a welcome change." He watched Fraser enter the room, a curious look on his face. "So how is it you're not of the same mind as the Chicago PD on this? Does Canada have the market cornered on common sense?"

"I can assure you that not everyone on the Chicago police force believes you're guilty."

"Could have fooled me." Frank waved a hand, pulling up short where it was cuffed to the table. "Don't bother defending them. How about you tell me just why it is you're here."

"As I said, I have a few questions because while I don't believe you were the one behind the car bombing, I do believe you're involved." He held up a hand as Zuko's face reddened. "Not as an accomplice. I think that someone is trying to set you up, perhaps even someone working for you now."

"You think this was an inside job? No way."

"Because they fear you," Fraser replied, disapproval lacing his words.

"Don't look down on fear, Constable. A little bit of intimidation can go a long way."

"But it doesn't garner much loyalty, does it? Are you sure there's been no dissension in your ranks? That there isn't anyone who might betray you if properly motivated?" Zuko stiffened then, defensive, but Fraser could see that remark had him thinking.

"You know what? I think I'd rather be threatened than have to listen to this. I think it's time for you to go."

"Of course. But if you do think of anyone, it would be in your best interest to let the police know."

Zuko leaned forward. "Why do you care if I'm being set up? Guy like you can't want to see me back on the street."

"Honestly? I don't care, not about you. But that doesn't mean I want to see Detective Gardino's killer go free. Good day, Mr. Zuko."

Jack was at the door and pulled Fraser aside as he left the interrogation room. "What were you doing talking with Zuko? And before you ask, yes I was in the observation room and heard it all."

"I wasn't going to ask, Jack. I'm just trying to pursue the investigation based on the evidence." He looked Jack in the eye. "Which I'm sorry to say may not be what everyone else is doing."

"We have evidence, Fraser. Solid evidence that Zuko was behind this. It's just a matter of tying it all together for the DA. The case is solved. So why are you doing this?"

Fraser sighed, tired of having to justify himself yet again. "Yes, there's evidence, but is it evidence that makes sense? Would Frank Zuko really keep something as dangerous as a detonator at his home? Near his daughter's room? When someone else was making the bomb in the first place?" He kept going. "Would he not have an alibi on a night he knew he'd need one? It doesn't add up."

"Don't you want Louis's killer to see justice?"

"That's exactly why I'm doing this, Jack. His killer needs to be found, but it has to be done the right way. If Frank Zuko is the killer, what I'm doing will confirm it. If he isn't, better we know now, while the trail is still fresh." Fraser paused and put a hand on Jack's arm. "I know this is hard, believe me. But it has to be done, for Louis's sake. To do less than our best now would be a disservice."

"And you think we're not doing our best," Jack replied, voice cold.

"I believe you're doing an admirable job, especially considering it's your partner's death we're investigating. But that relationship puts you too close to see the bigger picture. And the big picture is what I'm making sure is seen."

Jack scowled. "Do what you have to, but stay out of our way," he growled, pushing past Fraser before he could respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The funeral the next day was tense. Fraser, unsure of his reception considering the previous day's arguments, was glad to be included as pallbearer; however the others felt about him at the moment, it seemed they still remembered Louis had been his friend as well.

But he was left to himself, other than a few comments made about the arrangement the Consulate had sent. He'd been surprised that Inspector Thatcher had wanted one sent, but she'd just glared at him and said that "a loss of one of us affects us all, Fraser," and that had been that. Fraser was also surprised to see ASA Kowalski at Ray's side, but given how long Ray and Louis had been friends, he supposed he shouldn't be. Still, it hurt that Ray was ignoring him, was in fact actively avoiding him, a feeling he buried as soon as it surfaced; to think such things was beyond selfish at a time like this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser left right after the service, and the fact that no one stopped him didn't go unnoticed. Stella murmured to Ray that she needed to talk with Lt. Welsh for a minute, and he nodded, though she was pretty sure he hadn't heard a word she'd said. She left him with Jack, and Louis's parents, and walked over to where the Lieutenant was.

They exchanged a few condolences, and then Stella got right to it.

"Okay, so I could have asked Ray this, but I'm pretty sure it would only have upset him," she started, voice quiet. "What's going on with the Mountie? He was there as honor guard, but no one went anywhere near him unless they had to. Is he not Ray's partner anymore or something?"

"He's questioning the arrest that's been made, and as you saw, it hasn't endeared him to anyone."

She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "So is he spouting off wild theories or something?"

"Not at all. He's doing some digging of his own in regards to the case."

"Let me get this straight," Stella said, looking skeptical. "Everyone's upset with Fraser because he isn't convinced Zuko's guilty like they are. In fact he's so unconvinced that he's investigating on his own, checking and re-checking the evidence and the facts."

"That's the short version, yes," Welsh replied tiredly.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I'd listen to him. It sounds to me like the Constable is the only one here who's actually thinking instead of reacting." Welsh gave her a look of disbelief. "I'm serious," she went on. "He's either going to find more evidence, which will make the case stronger, or he'll find the same holes in the case Zuko's lawyers would, only we'll have time to make sure they aren't loopholes so big he'll get through. Or he might find out Zuko didn't do it, and save the department, and us some embarrassment. Any way you look at it, it's a win."

"When you put it in that light, I have to agree."

"Glad to hear it."

"You think you can get your ex to believe that?" he wondered.

Stella shot a sad look toward Ray and shook her head. "Ray won't listen to anybody right now. He and Louis were close – there's no way he isn't going to take this very personally. But I can and will make it clear that my office appreciates what he's doing." She turned to leave, then stopped. "Not because I like Fraser or even usually approve of his methods. But because this time, he's actually helping."

Ray was sitting next to Elaine when she got back.

"It's stupid, right?" Elaine was saying. "I mean, it isn't like I don't know the risks. I get how dangerous this job can be. But…"

"But seeing someone you know killed is different than thinking about it in some far off, happens to somebody else way," Ray finished. "Brings it home in more ways than one."

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess." She looked up as Stella stopped by them, and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Thanks for listening, Ray," she said, and gave him a quick hug before standing to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser went to the station and quietly looked into the facts, asking questions as unobtrusively and benignly as possible, then left to follow up on what he found. His investigation led him to a meeting with Zuko's lawyer, Charlie, at a diner in Zuko's neighborhood. The conversation they had was enlightening despite how circumspect the lawyer was.

It was obvious that Charlie knew more than he felt he could say, but even so it cemented Fraser's belief that Zuko was being set up for a crime he didn't commit. That evening, he went to Zuko's neighborhood and went door-to-door to ask some questions, then made a stop at a nearby cigar shop.

He took his purchase to the station the next day, and went to talk with Zuko again. Zuko never gave Fraser a direct answer, but it was clear that by the time Fraser had explained about the cigar cutter used to cut the wires for the bomb, a cigar cutter of a type that only Zuko himself bought and gave as gifts, he'd gotten through.

"Interesting theory, Constable," was all he said, but it was enough. If the police couldn't find Louis's killer, Fraser knew that Zuko had a vested interest to. And while helping Zuko was repulsive, he couldn't let the real killer go free.

As he stood to leave, Zuko's attorney came in, smiling. Fraser knew why; in canvassing the neighborhood the previous night he'd found someone who could corroborate Zuko's alibi. Not that Fraser planned on letting Zuko know that. Unfortunately, he figured it out, and made sure everyone in the bullpen knew it by thanking him for his help as he left.

Zuko's comment was, of course, heard by Ray, who motioned angrily at Fraser to follow him. They ended up in the same room where Zuko had been held, and as soon as Fraser was there and the door was closed Ray jumped at him.

"What the hell was that about?"

"Mr. Zuko was just trying to upset you, Ray."

"So he was lying about you helping get him released?" Fraser didn't answer, and Ray pounded a fist on the table. "Dammit, Fraser, you're conspiring with the enemy!"

"I most certainly am not. I am searching for the truth, which I've been very up front about since this case began."

"We have the truth," Ray said through clenched teeth.

"What we have is an all-too-convenient set of facts that fit the scenario you want."

"And cases can't be like that in your world? Pieces can't just fall into place?"

Fraser shook his head, his entire body tense. "Not when a man like Frank Zuko is involved." He took a deep breath. "Ray, if I'm wrong, you can hold that fact over me for the rest of our lives. But I have to know for sure. There's no harm in that."

"Really?" Ray replied with a bitter laugh. "You walk through that bullpen, then tell me if you feel the same way. Or maybe feeling is beyond what you can do." He threw his hands up and started pacing. "It's like you don't even care that you knew Louis, that we hung out with him. You don't understand-"

Fraser interrupted him, his patience frayed. "Don't I? How do you think I felt when I got the news of my father's murder? Do you think it hurt less because I wasn't there to witness it? Or perhaps because we were somewhat estranged I didn't mind it so much, or maybe you just think that I'm incapable of grief." Fraser glared at Ray. "Don't tell me that I don't understand how you feel, Ray. Everyone else may think that, but you of all people should know better."

Ray just stared at him as if in shock. "I'm sorry, Fraser," he finally said, voice hoarse. "I wasn't thinking - nothing new there, right?" He laughed, and it came out half-sob. "I just - he was my friend and he's dead and I just want to hurt somebody. And you were closest and that's way screwed up but then so am I and I shouldn't have said that." Ray crossed his arms tight over his chest, hugging himself, and turned away.

Fraser's anger evaporated, and he reached out a hand to touch Ray gently on the arm. "I'm sorry, too, Ray. And I'm doing everything in my power to find Louis's murderer."

There was a knock at the door, and Frannie popped her head in. "Sorry, but Welsh is looking for you guys."

"Okay, Frannie, we're on our way." Ray started toward the door, then stopped to look at Fraser. "You coming?"

Fraser just nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment.

Frannie stayed by the door, then touched Fraser's arm as he came out. "Can I just ask you something real quick?"

Fraser shot a questioning glance at Ray, who nodded and kept walking. "Catch up quick, though."

"What is it, Francesca?"

She took a deep breath. "It's just… Elaine's been pushing me to apply for the Academy this next round, but I think I'm gonna stick with Civilian Aide for awhile longer. Do you think that makes me a coward?"

"Not at all. Caution isn't a sign of cowardice. If you feel you should wait, then that's what you should do."

She smiled at that, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thanks, Fraser. I knew you'd be straight with me." She made a shooing motion. "Better go catch up before they come looking."

Fraser got there to find the Lieutenant, Ray, and ASA Kowalski talking about their next move.

"But that could take weeks!" Ray was nearly shouting, and Fraser quickly closed the door.

"Yes, and the evidence will be legal and admissible, Ray," Stella countered. "Isn't that worth the time?" She turned to Fraser. "Unless you've got some Mountie magic to get this solved sooner, of course," she went on, and Fraser tried not to bristle at her tone.

"Nothing like that, but I do believe I've narrowed down the list of suspects considerably," he countered.

"Well then," Lieutenant Welsh said, "do enlighten us, Constable, before your partner here gets more than a suspension."

Fraser filled them in on what he'd learned, and what he'd extrapolated from the conversations he'd had, and they came up with a plan.

"But this is in addition to the parameters I've set," Stella insisted.

"Of course," Lieutenant Welsh assured her. "We believe in solid evidence as much as you do. Trust me. Ray, you fill Huey in and work the van. Fraser, you follow your lead, then meet up with them."

"Yes, sir," both replied.

Fraser went to the diner and found Michael Sorrento, one of Zuko's more trusted men, eating dinner. Fraser let it be known that Zuko had been released, and made a point of giving him the cigar cutter he'd purchased to show Zuko, then he and Dief left just as Sorrento got a call. It didn't take long for Sorrento to leave, and Fraser was certain he was headed for Zuko's house.

Fraser and Dief made their way to the surveillance van and found out that he'd been correct – Sorrento was there, and from what they could hear, the conversation wasn't going well. Sorrento had been the one to set Zuko up, and Zuko got him to confess it all while they recorded it.

They rushed in after that just in time to see the two men holding each other at gunpoint. Fraser grabbed Zuko and Huey grabbed Sorrento, while Ray called in for back-up. If Huey held on a little too tight, or was a little rougher cuffing him than necessary, no one said anything. After he was read his rights, Sorrento was taken away, and Huey went with the officers to "make sure it all got taken care of right." Before he left though, he stopped at the door and looked at Fraser. "Thanks," he said with a nod.

Fraser nodded back, and Huey went on, leaving Fraser and Ray with Zuko.

"So, you going to try to figure out another trumped-up charge to take me in? Maybe arrest me for defending myself in my own home?"

Ray glared, but just shook his head. "We're going to leave you alone, like we have been. And you're going to do the same with us. Nothing's changed."

Zuko gave them both a long, hard look, then nodded. "If you can live with it, so can I."

 

Episode 2.12: Some Like it Red

Ray was on the phone when Fraser knocked at his door, take-out bags in hand. Ray let him in with a nod and a wave. "Yeah, it's Fraser – yes, he brought dinner. Right, so you don't need to worry – he insists on real food. No, he doesn't think pizza counts, but I'm working on him," Ray went on, and Fraser looked up just in time for a wink and a grin. He raised one disapproving eyebrow, and Ray had to smother a laugh.

"No, I'm fine, just, probably I should go, be a good host, right? Okay, love you too, thanks for calling. Yes, I know. Yes, I'll tell him. Okay, mom – bye."

Fraser took the bags of take-out to the table as Ray moved toward the kitchen to get plates and utensils.

"Mom said to tell you hello, and to thank you for the tip on how to get oil stains out of upholstery. Said it was better than anything store-bought."

"I'm glad to be of help. I hope you gave her my regards."

"Nah, I told her to take a flying leap." Ray rolled his eyes as he set down forks and serving spoons. "Of course I did."

"And how is your father, Ray?"

"Same as always. We talked cars for a few, avoided anything work-related. Your basic father-son talk, Kowalski style." He moved toward the refrigerator. "Milk, water or tea? Or do you want to go crazy and try a beer?"

"Water is fine, thank you kindly," Fraser replied. "Have you given any more thought to visiting them?"

"Nah – I don't really have the time right now to take. Mom made some noises about coming for a visit, but I can't see them coming all this way." He shrugged. "It's good, Fraser. We talk, keep in touch for more than holidays and birthdays. S'more than some families get."

Fraser looked down at the paper bag he was folding. "Right you are, Ray."

Ray stepped out of the kitchen, empty glasses in hand. "Ah jeez, I didn't mean it like that."

"No, I know you didn't. And believe me, I can understand having mixed feelings about familial visits, especially when your relationship with your father is somewhat strained." Ray looked at him closely, then nodded and went back to get their drinks.

"Was that last bit for my benefit, son?" Fraser nearly dropped the container of ling mung gai on the table at the sound of his father's voice. He looked up quickly and made sure that Ray was out of hearing range.

"As I didn't know you were here, I would have to say the answer is no," he whispered.

"Glad to hear it, son," his father replied, as always oblivious to his son's discomfort.

Dief yipped at Fraser. "You keep out of this," Fraser replied curtly.

"What was that?" asked his father and Ray simultaneously, the stereo effect more than a little disconcerting.

"Diefenbaker's just anxious for dinner, Ray," he answered, glaring at the half-wolf to stop any further comments. "I hope your parents do decide to come to Chicago. I'd like the chance to meet them."

"Yeah, that would be a trip," Ray replied with a chuckle, sitting their drinks on the table. "Mom would love you, and Dad wouldn't know what to make of you, or us being partners."

Fraser Sr. moved closer to Ray, peering at him intently. "Maybe I should figure out a way to introduce myself to the Yank, if you're going to get to meet his family."

"No!" Fraser exclaimed before he could stop himself. Ray stared at him, confused. "That is, I'm sure we'd get along just fine, Ray."

Ray's gaze turned contemplative, and he looked around the room. "Your dad's here, isn't he?"

Fraser tried to mask his surprise as he answered. "What would make you think that?"

"Well, he is a detective," Fraser's father commented. "And your poker face needs some work, if you don't mind my saying."

Fraser glanced at him sharply, and Ray pointed.

"That," he said. "That look right there is how I know. And if he wants to spend his afterlife haunting you, there's not much I can do about it, short of trying to find an exorcist, which is not my call. But this is my place, and I get to say who's here and who isn't, and I don't want him here." Ray shrugged. "I don't like how he talks to you, okay?"

"What does he mean he doesn't like how I talk to you? What's wrong with giving some fatherly advice? Or professional advice, for that matter."

"I didn't realize you could hear him," Fraser said, startled.

"Whatever you just said, you can stop it," Ray called out, then turned his attention to Fraser. "No, I can't hear him or see him or anything, but I see how you react when he's around. And I can tell whatever it is he's spouting, it isn't all hearts and flowers and it's great to see you, son." He waved his hands in a shooing motion. "So if you have nothing nice to say, you can get out now."

"Aren't you going to say something, Benton?"

Fraser fought to hide a smile. "It is his apartment, Dad. And all he's asking for is a little courtesy."

Fraser Sr. glared at Kowalski. "That Yank wouldn't know courtesy if it walked up to him and introduced itself," he said, then stomped through the closed door. Fraser watched him go, then turned toward Ray.

"He gone?"

"Yes. It seems that even death doesn't necessarily bring about maturity."

"There's goes my last chance at being a responsible adult, then, because it ain't happening in this lifetime," Ray responded with a grin.

Fraser shook his head with a smile, then his expression became more thoughtful. "How long have his visitations been bothering you, Ray?"

Ray shrugged. "Long enough. Like I said to him, I don't like how he makes you act, all tense and freaky. You're freaky enough without his help." He smiled as he spoke, then his expression became serious. "I've ignored you talking to him all the other times because that's how you wanted to play it, which is not buddies, by the way, but that is an argument for another time. I am too hungry right now to call you out for it." He clapped his hands together and started dishing out food. "This smells terrific. Just remember our deal."

Fraser watched him for a moment, still stunned, then nodded. "Don't tell you what it is until tomorrow, at the earliest, even if there's nothing you'd think is questionable, so as not to prejudice you against any of the meal."

"That's the one. Because I'll try anything, but that doesn't mean I want to know what it is I'm getting myself into."

"I'll keep that in mind."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey," Ray said partway through the meal, "I meant to ask. You have any luck finding that liquor for the Ice Queen yet?"

Fraser frowned at Ray's use of his favorite nickname for Inspector Thatcher, but didn't comment. "Not as yet. It seems that the brand she wants is rare."

"Well, I might know a guy who can help, if you want."

"That would be very helpful, Ray. Thank you."

They were just finishing up when Ray's phone rang. "First three messages on my machine, then mom, now this. It's like the Grand Central Station of phone calls today - when did I get popular?" He picked up the receiver. "Kowalski. Hey, Frannie," he looked at Fraser with a why is she calling me look, and Fraser responded with an I have no idea, why don't you ask her look and gesture combination.

After listening for another minute, Ray interrupted with a, "Just a sec, Frannie," and put his hand over the mouthpiece. "She's got somebody she wants me to meet with, some friend of the family with something she wants off the record."

"Do you want to meet with them or are you looking for an excuse not to go?"

"Both, I think."

"Ray, there will be other games to watch. If Francesca is asking for help, we should try to give it to her."

"And you're okay with the part where it's on the QT?"

Fraser shifted a little before answering. "As long as it isn't illegal, I don't see why not."

"Okay." He nodded and spoke to Frannie again. "Okay, so Fraser and I can meet you now, that's fine. Coffee shop where? No, I don't know where every coffee place is in Chicago – funny, I thought you wanted my help here." He paused, listening. "Yeah, we can find it – shouldn't take more than twenty minutes. Is it wolf-friendly?"

Twenty minutes later they were in a diner, sitting across from Frannie and her friend Sister Anne, who ran St. Fortuna School. "So you see, I don't want to go to the police officially, but I'm worried, and I thought maybe Ray would help – sorry, Ray Vecchio – as a favor to a friend."

"It does sound as if you have reason for concern," Fraser agreed. "Ray and I would be happy to help if we can. Would it be possible for Ray to come in as a teacher, perhaps? He's quite good at undercover work." Ray kicked him under the table; Fraser ignored it.

"I'm afraid not – it's an all girls school, and that includes the teachers. The only men we have are handymen, and we're not short-staffed there."

"Well, I can check around a little, see if there's anybody who could help. Still unofficially," Ray reassured her.

"You don't know how much I appreciate this, Detective, Constable."

After they'd left, Ray turned to Fraser with a scowl. "Why did you volunteer me, Fraser?"

"I believe I volunteered us both, Ray. And if you didn't want to help, why did we meet with her at all?"

Ray sighed. "Okay, point there. But could you maybe let me volunteer myself next time?"

"Of course."

The next morning Fraser called Ray from the Consulate. "Have you found anyone that might be able to help, Ray?"

"Nope – totally striking out on this one. I thought I had a lead, but she broke her leg yesterday, so no dice. Frannie and Elaine both offered to do it, but Welsh'd have my hide if he ever got wind of it, plus neither of them's got enough experience. Having Frannie check out cars is very different than being a teacher."

"I'm sorry to hear you're having trouble, Ray."

"Yeah, me too. I hate to tell Sister Anne no, but if things don't change soon I'm gonna have no choice."

Fraser was silent for a minute. "I'm sorry, Ray – I need to go. I'll try to be by the station later, if you'd like."

"Sure – maybe you'll bring me luck."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray was on the phone that afternoon when a woman sat down in the chair by his desk. He gave her a distracted wave as he finished up his call. "Okay, so how can I help you, mi – Fraser?" he ended with a hiss, leaning forward. "What the hell are you doing?"

Fraser frowned at him. "I'd think that was obvious, Ray," he said, swinging his auburn hair back over his shoulders. "I'm volunteering to go undercover."

Ray just stared at him, speechless, then stood and grabbed Fraser's arm so he'd follow. He found an empty interrogation room and pulled Fraser in, shutting the door and locking it. "Are you crazy or something, coming in here like this? What if somebody you knew saw you?"

"Several people did, Ray," Fraser answered. "No one seemed to realize anything was amiss."

Ray shook his head. "I can't believe you're doing this."

"You said yourself you didn't want to tell Sister Anne no. This seemed the logical solution."

Ray's eyes widened at that. "Drag is a logical solution."

"Yes. Be reasonable, Ray. It would be best if it were one of us in any case, given the unofficial nature of the surveillance. And I'm less likely to be found out." He held up a hand. "Not that I'm impugning your considerable undercover skills. It's just that in this case, I believe I make the more convincing choice."

"I wasn't gonna argue that," Ray replied rubbing a hand through his hair. "But are you sure you want to do this? I know how uncomfortable this kind of thing makes you."

"I'm positive. After all, it isn't as if I'll be doing anything illegal. Just obfuscating in regards to my true identity. It's similar to when I went to the psychiatric institution."

"It's just as nuts, that's for sure." Fraser frowned again, and Ray shook his head. "Sorry, sorry. It's just – you surprised the hell out of me, Fraser. I think I have a right to be a little freaked, maybe say something stupid."

"Far be it from me to curtail your rights, Ray," Fraser answered wryly. "Honestly, do you think it will work?"

"I think it's worth running by Sister Anne at the very least."

Good," he responded with a smile, moving to the door. "Shall we, then?"

Ray unlocked it and opened it with a bow. "After you, madam."

After questioning them both, Sister Anne agreed to give Ms. Fraser a try, starting the next day. They left the school with a promise to be back bright and early the next morning, and Ray drove Fraser home.

"You know," he said as he drove, "I've done a lot of stuff as a cop that I never thought I'd do, but drag isn't on that list."

"Did you know that the term drag was used in reference to transvestites at least as early as the 18th century, owing to the tendency of their skirts to drag on the ground? There are those who thought perhaps the term was an acronym for 'dressed as a girl', but that would make the word 'draag' if one were being precise." He paused. "I'm surprised that will all of your undercover experience you've never been asked to do this."

Ray shook his head. "Vice has asked me a couple of times over the years, but I never ended up in a dress. I can't walk like a girl to save my life. Now eyeliner is another story – the whole bad-boy rocker look is one I can do."

Fraser looked at Ray appraisingly. "I'm sure you can."

Ray tried not to react to the intensity of Fraser's look, but he felt a blush rise in his cheeks. Trying to get the attention off of him, he asked, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Ray."

"It's just – look, I know you said you haven't done much undercover, so it can't be that, but – did you maybe do prep work or something? Because you put that makeup on like a pro. You didn't ask Frannie to help, did you?"

"No, Ray. I didn't want to get her any more involved."

"Okay, then what?" Ray shook his head. "Wait, don't tell me – you read a book on it."

"Well, the fashion magazines are fairly explicit in their instructions. And of course I've seen women in makeup."

"Yeah so have I, but that doesn't mean I can put it on. I'm thinking I'd end up looking like some kind of demented clown. C'mon, spill."

"Well, I had a friend growing up – Joon. She was quite the tomboy, but she went through a phase where she was interested in trying cosmetics. And there weren't really any girls her age to practice with."

"So you and she put on makeup together?"

"It seemed like a fair trade for all the tracking and hunting she did with me. And odd as it seems, you can't deny that it's come in handy now. I must admit that I was surprised at how easily it all came back; the skill stays with you once learned, like riding a dogsled."

"Yeah, well I know which of those skills I'd rather learn. But you're right – it's a good thing you know how to look like a girl, because starting tomorrow morning, you're gonna have to fool a bunch of them. And high school girls at that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ms. Fraser's first day went better than he'd expected; he'd even been able to have a short conversation with Celine's roommate, Melissa. After checking in with Sister Anne and Ray, he went to Melissa's room to talk with her privately. As luck would have it, he discovered Celine's diary, and with a little bit of persuasion Melissa agreed to let him have it, temporarily at least. He put it in his purse and headed toward the front of the school, where Ray was waiting to pick him up.

As soon as they were a safe distance away from St Fortuna's, Fraser took off his wig, setting it carefully in the front seat. He wasn't so delicate with the rest, taking a knife to the hose he was wearing when he had trouble taking it off.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Ray called out from the front seat. "You could be arrested for indecent exposure, you know."

"I assure you I'm perfectly decent, Ray," he answered, sighing deeply as the got the remnants of the hose off. "I just couldn't bear those hose for one second more. And to be honest, I'd rather buy more than try to take them off carefully."

Ray chuckled at that. "I figured your uniform would've gotten you used to being uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable is one thing," Fraser replied, making a face at the bits of fabric as he balled them up. "These are torture devices, I'm sure of it."

"Yeah, well you've got equipment that usually doesn't go in them. It can't be that bad for women. They wouldn't wear them if it was."

"Women have pain thresholds we can't hope to attain, Ray. If childbirth isn't proof enough, women's undergarments should be." Fraser started reading Celine's diary as he dressed.

"What have you got?" Ray asked, and Fraser looked up to see Ray watching him in the rearview mirror.

"Celine's diary. It's… well, I suppose it's a fair representation of the adolescent female mind, but to be honest, the writing is rather difficult."

"What do you mean?"

"I gifted him with a treasure of gold and time, and he gifted me with his love," he quoted.

"That isn't so bad."

"No, but I left out the bit before with 'cries of ecstasy' and 'fire branding the depths of my soul' and such. I was trying to spare you."

"Ouch, that's as bad as the stuff I used to write Stella in high school."

"You wrote poetry?"

"Yeah, but I learned to keep the poet on the inside. Trust me, better for everyone that way."

"Hmmm." Fraser flipped through the book some more as he shrugged into his braces. "You know, the school handyman had a very interesting watch. I noticed it when we were introduced."

"He look like someone a high school girl would go for?"

Fraser raised an eyebrow at that. "My experience as a woman is limited, but yes, I think it's a possibility."

"Okay, so you give me the info on him and I'll follow up while you do the Consulate thing." He looked back again, and threw Fraser a wad of napkins. "You might want to take care of your face before we get there."

Fraser frowned as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. "Thanks, Ray. You've saved me from a very interesting lecture," he replied as he removed his earrings.

"You don't think Thatcher would approve?"

"After her reaction to my choice of uniform, do you really think this would pass muster?"

"Nah," Ray laughed. "But it would be fun to see the look on her face if you tried to convince her to let you wear the stuff."

Fraser tried to hide a grin, but failed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inspector Thatcher did in fact stop Fraser as he made his way to his office. She made known her displeasure at his inability to find the scotch she wanted to present to a visiting mentor, all the while giving him strange looks, but she made no comment on his appearance, other than to note that he smelled like perfume. He nearly slumped in relief as she left, darting into his office. He was about to close the door when Constable Turnbull popped his head in the doorway.

"You know," he said, leaning in conspiratorially, "while that shade of pink does work nicely with your complexion, it clashes just the tiniest bit with the red of the serge." When Fraser just stared at him, he added, "There are remnants of it on the edge of your bottom lip."

Fraser felt his cheeks redden, but before he could dismiss Turnbull, he continued along the same vein, seemingly oblivious to Fraser's discomfort.

"You know, sir, I don't mean to boast, but I've been told I have an eye for color. If you'd like, I'd be happy to help you find something a bit more complimentary."

The amazing thing was, Fraser was certain Turnbull was being completely sincere. "Thank you, Turnbull. If I need help, I know where to find you," he responded, shoving Turnbull out of his office as politely as he could. Once he was alone, he quickly took out a handkerchief and thoroughly wiped his mouth, dismayed at just how much pink came off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray went to the station after dropping Fraser off, and arrived just in time to hear Tom Dewey make one of his typical bad jokes. Normally he ignored them, hell he ignored Dewey as much as he possibly could, and had since the day Dewey came in announcing himself as Louis's replacement. Because ignoring him meant Ray did not get suspended for hitting a fellow officer. But today the joke was about Fraser. All Ray heard was, "Dudley Do-Right," and before he realized what he was doing, he was in Dewey's face.

"You shut your hole," Ray snarled.

Dewey glared and held his own, which actually surprised Ray. "What? You and Jack talk about Fraser all the time. It's okay for you two but not for me?"

"That's exactly right," Ray shot back. "And do you know why? Because you haven't earned it. You aren't his partner and you aren't his friend, so you have anything to say about Fraser, you keep it respectful or you keep it to yourself, or so help me, I will kick you in the head."

The two stared at each other, neither willing to back down, until Jack got between them. "Okay, that's enough. We don't need a scene, and I think you've made your point, Ray." He put a hand on Ray's arm, and Ray fought to keep from shrugging it off. Jack was right.

"I'll be at my desk doing actual police work, if anyone needs me," he said, shooting a final glare at Dewey as he walked away.

He half-heard Jack talking to Dewey, then watched Dewey stalk out. Jack didn't follow, instead coming to talk to Ray. He sat in the chair by Ray's desk with a sigh. "You really need to cut him some slack, Ray."

Ray sat back in his chair. "I know, but he needs to stop with the trash talk. It makes me crazy."

"You and me both, but keep this up and one or both of you will end up suspended. I get it, believe me. He's hard to get used to, but we don't have much choice."

Ray looked down at that. "Damn. Look, I don't mean to make this harder on you. I'll try to be nicer, okay? But it'd be a lot easier if he'd quit with the crap jokes and insults."

Jack gave him a small smile. "I'll see what I can do about the insults, but I think we're stuck with the bad jokes. Thanks, Ray."

Ray had several official cases to work on, and had no time to research Todd the handyman. It wasn't until the next afternoon that he found the guy's record, and that he was in fact employed at St. Fortuna's as part of a work-release program. Ray got a home address, grabbed his jacket, and left to check it out.

He was just heading into Todd's apartment building when a squeal of tires made him look back. A van was driving away, and a young woman was kneeling by someone in the middle of the road. He pulled out his phone and called in the accident, then went to help.

The girl ran as soon as he got there and announced that he was a police officer, but he paid her no attention, focusing instead on the injured young man. As the ambulance arrived, too late he was pretty sure, he pulled out the guy's wallet, hoping to find some ID. A business card fell out of the wallet, and as Ray saw the guy's driver's license, he picked up the card and pocketed it, then let the paramedics do their job.

"By the time I got to him it was already too late," he told Fraser later. "And the girl with him must've been Celine, but I wasn't paying attention."

"You mustn't be too hard on yourself, Ray. You were understandably distracted trying to help an injured person."

"Yeah, but if I'd been able to stop her, we might be done with this."

"You did get a lead," Fraser reminded him.

"Yeah," he said, handing Fraser the card. "Maybe we can find out something there."

The trip to the antique store was enlightening, though Ray was certain Fraser had only licked that flask to mess with him. It had worked in more ways than one, but no way would he let Fraser know that. When Ray held the door open for Fraser as they left the antique store, Fraser gave him a thoughtful look. "What?" he asked.

"I just hadn't realized what a gentleman you are, Ray."

Ray wasn't sure how to respond to that. "What do you mean? This is how I always am. At least around women," he amended.

"I beg to differ. I've never seen you hold a door open for Francesca or Elaine, for example."

"Yeah, but they're not ladies. They're more like one of the guys, y'know?"

"Are you saying that I'm more of a lady than they are?" Fraser responded, amused.

"If the pump fits..." Ray replied, flashing Fraser a quick grin. "I'm just saying," he paused and shook his head. "I don't know what I'm saying." He opened the car door for Fraser. "It's different with you, and just leave it at that and get in, willya?"

"Thank you kindly, Ray."

Ray dropped Fraser off back at the school after that. "I promised Melissa I'd be at the dance," he'd explained earlier. To be honest, Ray was glad of the time alone. The drive back to the station gave him some time to think.

What Fraser had said got him to wondering. Was he acting that different? Hard to say, since most of the women he saw were at the station, and that was a whole different world. But he always did the door thing, and the after you thing when he was out with a woman, didn't he? He sure did when he was with Stella, even when everything was going to hell. And that was when it hit him. He'd been treating Fraser like a date, not a friend. He'd been polite, and attentive and even flirted a little, and was having a great time.

But that didn't ring quite true, so Ray thought about it some more, and he realized that other than the whole I'll hold the door for you kind of thing, they hadn't really been saying anything different than usual. Ray flirted with people all the time, Fraser included. But now, Fraser was reacting to it, flirting back, like being Ms. Fraser freed him, relaxed him somehow. And it was nice. Almost right, even.

And that train of thought led him back to the antique store and the almost embarrassing reaction he'd had to watching Fraser lick that flask. Normally, he'd say Fraser had done it with no idea as to the effect it might have, but the way they'd both been acting, he wasn't so sure.

Maybe, he thought with a grin, it was time for him to push the envelope a little more, see if he was the only one thinking things were changing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Watching Melissa light up as a boy asked her to dance was almost worth coming to the dance, Fraser thought as he danced with one of the teachers from the boys' school. Almost. The music changed to something slower then, and Fraser was trying to find a kind way to leave the floor when he heard a familiar voice behind him. "Can I cut in?"

The teacher frowned as Ray stepped in. "I don't remember seeing you – are you new?"

"He's with me," Fraser explained, then leaned in to add, "And I'm afraid he's the jealous type, so it's best if you just go on."

The man eyed Ray nervously, and Ray grinned at him in return, which made him shuffle off more quickly. "Thank you kindly for the dance," Fraser called out as he left, then turned to face Ray. "And thank you for saving me."

"He not the best partner?"

Fraser shuddered. "No rhythm whatsoever."

"Well, looks like I got here just in time, then," Ray responded, then pulled Fraser into his arms and started moving them easily on the dance floor. "Probably best if we keep up the cover, especially since I get so jealous and all."

Fraser blinked several times as he tried to process Ray's words. "Oh, yes," he finally answered. "I suppose you're right." As they danced, Fraser tried to think of something to say, finally settling on, "I can't remember seeing this suit before."

"Yeah, it isn't really the best for work, but I figured, school dance, probably ought to switch out of the jeans." Ray grinned ruefully. "Man, this is giving me some serious flashbacks. It's like I'm being visited by the Ghost of School Dances Past."

"Really? You must have gone to a very progressive school then."

Ray looked puzzled for a split second, then barked out a laugh. "I meant the crappy sound system piping out past hits, the awkward shuffling, everybody nervous and on edge, and I bet the punch is nasty." He shook his head. "I did not mean dancing with a guy, in or out of a dress. Freak," Ray said fondly, squeezing Fraser's waist as he spoke. "What about you? This bringing back happy memories of dancing in igloos?"

"I attended a few dances while at Depot. I suppose they were similar to this. But no, nothing before that."

"Depot – that where you learned how to dance?"

Fraser shook his head. "No, that was my grandmother's doing. She made sure I knew all the basic dances – waltz, foxtrot, that kind of thing." He paused, then remarked. "You seem comfortable doing this."

"What? Dancing with a guy? It isn't like anybody knows."

"That's not precisely true. You and I most certainly know."

Ray turned them a few times and smiled. "That we do."

Fraser couldn't help but return the smile, and hoped that the butterflies he felt weren't noticeable. He felt off-kilter, but at the same time there was something about being with Ray like this that just fit.

They danced a bit more, then Ray chuckled. "Man, I feel like everyone's watching us. Which I know they aren't – it's just weird, like when I used to dance with Stella. I remember being so scared my hand was accidentally going to slip down from her waist and then Bam! I'd be busted." He leaned in just a little. "You think someone would say something if that happened now?"

"I would hope so. This school has a reputation to uphold, and even though I'm only here temporarily, I need to adhere to their standards," Fraser replied primly, but was unable to keep up the serious look in the face of Ray's grin. "And shouldn't we be discussing the case?"

"Not a problem," Ray agreed. "I found out some very interesting stuff after we split up earlier. Turns out that there were rumors back in the 30's about a hidden vault somewhere in Chicago, full of loot, including a gun that one of Capone's men allegedly stole off of Eliot Ness."

"And you think the vault is under St. Fortuna's."

"Makes sense. And I can even see how Todd and Celine might have found it. School basements are great for when you want some private time for you and your girl, especially if it's a relationship you need to keep quiet."

Fraser was shocked at his reaction to that, as images of a young Ray and Stella in just such a situation flitted across his mind. He forcibly turned his thoughts back to what Ray had said. That he was having trouble keeping his mind on the subject with Ray so close was unsettling, and yet somehow he couldn't find it within himself to pull away.

"You found out all of this in the short time we were apart?"

"I don't know if you know this, but I'm a pretty good detective," Ray replied, but Fraser could tell he wasn't offended. "I know how to do research," he went on. "I even know where the library is."

"That is impressive," Fraser teased.

Ray rolled his eyes. "Ha ha. You can make jokes at my expense later. Right now, we need to see if there's some kind of underground stash of goodies."

As the song ended Ray twirled Fraser out, then pulled him in gently so they ended up almost nose to nose. They stayed that way for what seemed like hours, then Ray cleared his throat and moved back just a bit, keeping one arm around Fraser's waist. He nodded toward the door. "Shall we?"

All Fraser could do was nod and let Ray lead them off the floor. He shook his head gently, trying to clear it, and looked around for Melissa, wondering what she'd think if he left without telling her. He saw the boy she'd been dancing with, holding two punch cups and looking around, confused. Fraser leaned in to Ray to murmur in his ear, "Melissa's not here, Ray. I'm worried she's gone after Celine."

Ray nodded and gave Fraser a soft smile filled with promise. "Sounds good to me," he said as they passed some teachers by the door. Fraser felt himself blush, and for once was glad of the heavy makeup he wore; hopefully it concealed the redness of his cheeks. Inwardly he cursed himself for twelve kinds of fool for his reaction. Ray was just keeping up the façade. He knew that. So why was he having trouble remembering it?

Once they were away from the gym, Ray was all business, though Fraser couldn't help but note that he stayed close. Then again, was that really new? "Any ideas on how to find the girls?"

"I've been trying to search the grounds, but nothing so far. It's rather difficult to blend in when you're the new girl. I even had two of the students stop me to tell me they knew I was secretly Canadian." Ray shook his head at that with a chuckle.

"Okay, so you've been able to narrow it down some though, right?"

"Yes, but I fear time is of the essence, and what I've done won't be enough." As he spoke, one of the Sisters came around the corner then, and Fraser stopped her. A quick check of her shoes and a few questions later they were headed down to a basement Fraser hadn't yet explored.

Ray and Fraser followed the passage to an alcove, where they could see Melissa and Celine being held at gunpoint by the antique store owner and some of his men. Fraser gestured for Ray to stay back, hoping that by confronting them alone and in his guise as Ms. Fraser he'd be able to surprise them in more ways than one.

The inevitable fight ensued, and Ray was able to handle the men closer to him. Melissa and Celine assisted from the sidelines, throwing dirt and rocks and bottles at their captors. Fraser looked over in time to see the label on one bottle and caught it in mid-air; it was the very liquor he'd been searching for. He made a mental note to ask Ray about it later; perhaps not all the bottles would be needed for evidence, but if they were, he'd need corroboration of that fact when he told Inspector Thatcher.

The fight over and the men subdued, Ray went up to the top of the stairs to call for back-up, while Fraser checked on the girls. His wig had fallen off some time during the fight, and Melissa watched him, wide-eyed and hurt, but didn't say anything. Celine seemed impressed that someone was willing to go so far as to wear a dress to try to find her.

Once the police arrived, Fraser and Ray escorted Melissa and Celine up the stairs, shielding them from the teachers and students surrounding the doorway, and getting them safely to the officers waiting to take them to the station. Ray was kind enough to get Celine settled in so that Fraser could have a few minutes to talk with Melissa.

After she left, Ray walked over and handed Fraser his wig. "Found this when we were cleaning up, and I thought you might want it back."

Fraser took the wig and shook the dirt from it, then started finger-combing out tangles and pulling out debris. "Thank you kindly, Ray."

Ray waved that off and nodded toward the direction Melissa had gone. "She gonna be okay?"

Fraser followed his gaze, watching Melissa with concern. "I think so. She's upset with me for deceiving her, but I believe that given time she'll understand why I had to."

"That's a part of the job that definitely sucks, that's for sure. But she's safe and so's her friend, so we did good." He nudged Fraser with a shoulder. "You did good."

"Thank you, Ray. I know it's all turned out well. I think I just need to get home, get cleaned up. Then I'll feel more myself again."

"Sure, that makes sense. I can give you a ride. And if you're worried about what your neighbors might think, you can clean up at my place first." He looked Fraser over appraisingly as they started walking to Ray's car. "Though it is an interesting look for you. You might think about keeping it."

"Are you saying that you think I should wear dresses more often?"

Ray wrinkled his nose at that. "Nah, the dress thing isn't really you – wig either. I was thinking the other stuff," he replied, making circular motions to indicate Fraser's face. "The eyeliner and messy hair isn't a bad look for you, if you're wanting something different."

Fraser started to smooth down his hair automatically, then stopped himself. "This is a good look for me?" he asked, disbelief running through his voice.

"I'm not saying it's your best look or that the Ice Queen would go for it for work, but yeah, I like it." He shrugged and went to unlock his passenger door for Fraser. "Just a thought."

"I'll keep it in mind if I ever need a change." Ray opened the door and Fraser raised an eyebrow. "Still the gentleman, I see."

"Hard habit to break, especially with you still in heels."

"You know, I'm not sure I should go to your apartment," Fraser teased as Ray settled in and started the car. "I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea. I'm not that kind of girl."

Ray laughed at that. "Don't worry – your virtue's safe with me. For now," he added with a wicked grin and a wink, and drove away.

 

Episode 2.18: Flashback

Why is it they couldn't have a single, solitary normal day? Or get a case in a normal way, like someone calling the station and asking for help?

Ray sighed inwardly as he ran after Fraser, who was in turn chasing after someone Ray hoped to God was an actual criminal. Not that he doubted Fraser – if he said the chick was suspicious, then she probably was, but still. A day without a bizarre chase didn't seem like such a big thing to ask for, did it?

Ray rounded a corner and stopped in his tracks at the sight of Fraser flying past him, holding on to the back of a van for dear life. Somehow he actually saw Ray and yelled for him to follow. Like Ray wasn't going to do just that. But as he started to move, he saw Fraser slip and fall back onto the pavement, his head hitting hard.

Ray ran to him immediately, waving away traffic, scared to death when Fraser made no move to get up. When Ray got to Fraser, he opened his eyes briefly and gave Ray a confused look, then fell unconscious. Swearing viciously in the direction the van had gone, Ray pulled out his phone and called for an ambulance.

They wouldn't let Ray ride in the ambulance, even when he threatened to kick them in the head if they didn't. Thinking about it as he drove to the hospital, Ray figured that maybe that was part of why they hadn't wanted him along. He glared at the red light in front of him, at the drivers surrounding him, at everything that was keeping him from finding out if Fraser was okay.

By the time he got to the hospital he was in a foul mood, but remembering how well taking it out on the paramedics had worked for him, held himself together and asked as nicely as he could where Benton Fraser had been taken, and could he be taken there, please and thank you kindly.

Either the paramedics had warned Admitting about him, or he'd sounded desperate, or maybe it was just that he'd asked, but whatever the reason, and Ray really didn't care what reason it was, he got to go see Fraser pretty quickly.

Fraser was still out cold, but the nurse assured Ray it wasn't anything too terrible and that the doctor would be in soon. She also handed him a clipboard with some forms to fill out, since Fraser really wasn't in a position to do so.

Ray looked at the forms without really seeing them, then put them on a chair next to Fraser's bed and just stood there, watching his friend. He shouldn't be doing this. It was taking advantage and just plain wrong. But who knew if he'd ever get another chance. So Ray looked at Fraser, drinking in the sight of the man, finally able to watch him the way he'd wanted to. No fear of discovery, of questions he couldn't answer. He risked brushing a stray bit of hair off of Fraser's forehead, his hand unaccountably shaky, then swore at himself and picked up the papers he'd thrown on the chair, moving to a nearby counter to fill them out.

As he was trying to make sense of some of the questions, he heard a groan and looked over to see Fraser starting to move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Fraser! You're awake!"

"Obviously," Fraser grumbled, trying to sit up. The movement made his head spin and a sharp pain in his temple stopped him cold. He felt a hand on his arm, easing him to a sitting position. "Thanks."

"You just take it easy, Frase. The doc is on his way." The man shook his head. "Man, I was worried – that was some knock to the noggin you took." He glared at Fraser and his voice rose as he went on. "What were you thinking, going after a moving van like that?"

"What are you thinking, yelling at an injured man like this?" Fraser countered, almost sorry when he saw the other man's face crumple.

"You're right, you're right. Sorry. This whole thing just stressed me out real bad. I mean, you never get hurt, at least not hospital hurt." He grimaced and blew out a deep breath. "Okay, so what happened?"

"No idea," Fraser answered, as the doctor walked in and started checking him over.

"How is he, doc?"

Fraser frowned. "Don't you think I should be the one asking that? And who are you, anyway?"

The man paled, then grinned weakly. "That ain't funny, Fraser."

"Good thing I wasn't joking, then." He turned to the doctor. "Who is that man? Oh, even better – who am I?"

"You don't remember your name?" the doctor responded, shushing the other man with a wave of his hand. "If you're done with those, you can give them to the nurse at Admitting and then come back," he said, indicating the clipboard.

"Yeah, I'll just… yeah. I'll be right back though, don't worry," he assured them, then went out in a rush.

Fraser started to shake his head, then winced and leaned in to speak to the doctor. "He kept calling me Fraser. Is that really my name? And do I even know him?"

"Yes it is, and he's your partner." Fraser thought about that for a minute. Tall, thin, kind of scruffy, but in an attractive way… he could see it. Besides, it explained why the guy had been hovering over him. And how he'd been able to fill out what had to have been insurance and medical forms. "Okay, I'll buy that. So what's going on?"

The doctor consulted his chart, then frowned. "Let me get back to you on that."

The other man – his partner – returned then, and the doctor took him aside. Fraser watched the man pace and nod, nervous and obviously very upset, though whatever the doctor was telling him seemed to calm him just a little. He kept darting glances at Fraser and smiling encouragingly, and each time he did Fraser would smile back. He'd nodded once, then remembered what a painfully bad idea that was with a head injury. He might not remember his identity, but that didn't mean he had to act like an idiot.

Finally, the doctor left, after reassuring Fraser he'd be back after he checked with the lab for some test results. The other man stayed, hovering near Fraser but not engaging him. It didn't take long for Fraser to sigh irritably and gesture for the man to come closer. "If you're staying you might as well talk to me. I've lost my memory, not my complete bag of marbles."

The man grinned at that and walked over. "Hey, Fraser. Sorry. It's just, the doc says I'm not supposed to upset you or tell you too much."

Fraser reached for his hand. "Could you at least tell me your name?"

"It's Ray. Ray Kowalski," he answered distractedly as he stared at their joined hands. "And you're Benton Fraser, and you're holding my hand."

Fraser looked at him, puzzled. "Well yes, the doctor told me you're my partner, so I figured we were out."

Ray looked confused at that. "Out? What?" Ray's eyes widened. "No, he meant… we're police partners, Fraser."

Oh, well that changed things. Except, Ray hadn't pulled away. "Is that all we are?"

"We're friends, buddies. Best friends. But that's it." He squeezed Fraser's hand and then let it go. "I don't know what else getting hit on the head did to you, but as far as I know, you've never swung that way."

Fraser thought about that. "As far as you know," he repeated. "How can we be best friends if you aren't sure about something as basic as my sexual orientation?"

Ray just stared at him, wide eyed, then shook his head. "Okay, we are not having this conversation right now. You don't even know your name. Obviously something got shook loose up there. So let's just see what the doc says when gets back, and get you out of here." Ray grinned mischievously as he went on. "Because what I do know is that you're too hard-headed for this to take your memory forever."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More tests were run, more blood was drawn, and finally they agreed to release Fraser, as long as he wasn't left alone.

"No problem," Ray assured them. "I can watch him. But this is just a temporary thing, right? I mean, he's going to remember who he is and everything soon?"

"I can't give you any guarantees, but no, I don't believe the amnesia to be permanent."

Ray took the doctor aside as Fraser got dressed, leaning in and trying to speak so as not to be overheard. "So, could getting hit on the head like this change who you are? I mean, I get that he doesn't remember stuff, but is he pretty much still the same guy?"

The doctor gave him a concerned look. "Does he seem to be different? Is his behavior out of character?"

"Yes. No." Ray sighed. "I don't know. I just wondered, is all."

"Ray," Fraser called out, and Ray turned to see him holding his serge up, a look of distaste on his face. "Are you sure I have to wear this? It's really… bright."

Ray jerked a thumb in Fraser's direction. "How out of character before I need to worry?" he asked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray convinced Fraser to put on the rest of his uniform, and the two headed out. Fraser let Ray lead, but as soon as the door to the hospital was open he was through it, not caring that there were others trying to leave as well.

"I can't believe you just did that." Ray said as they left the building.

"Did what?"

"Let the door almost slam on that lady." He pointed at Fraser. "See, this just proves my point – you aren't yourself. No way would the Benton Fraser I'm partnered with do something that rude."

"She looked perfectly capable of opening a door. Besides, I'm the injured one here, aren't I?" At Ray's stare, he stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't tell me, let me guess. I hold doors for people."

"And let people ahead of you in line. It's almost an obsession."

Fraser shrugged. "Sounds like I need to grow a pair and put myself first." Ray stopped at that, stunned, and when Fraser noticed he stopped too, rolling his eyes at Ray as he turned back. "What now?"

"Grow a pair?"

"What? I don't say things like that? Next thing you'll tell me is that I never swear."

"Well, hardly ever,"

Fraser made a face at that. "You've got to be kidding me. What am I, the Canadian Sandra Dee?"

Ray started moving again. "Come on, let's go to the car. I'm not sure I can deal with more of this conversation. The doc said that being in familiar surroundings might trigger your memory. How about I take you home, see if that helps?

"That's fine with me. I can't think of anywhere else I'm supposed to be."

Ray rolled his eyes. "Ha ha. Come on, comedian."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser looked out the window and then turned to Ray, frowning. "Is there some reason you chose to drive through what has to be the worst part of town to take me home?"

"Yeah. This is home." He pointed past Fraser. "That's your building." Fraser gave him an incredulous look. "Hey, you picked it, not me."

As he was parking, Ray's cell phone rang. "Kowalski. Yeah, I have him. No, nothing yet. I know, sir. Yes, I - yes, sir." He hung up. "That was the Lieu - Lieutenant Welsh. He was making sure you're doing okay."

"It was more than just that, based on how you reacted."

Ray sighed. "Yeah, he was hoping you'd remembered something about the chase today. Turns out there was a kidnapping and you're the only real lead, so he's just a little anxious about it."

"Well, I'm doing my best," Fraser snapped.

"Yeah, I know. I didn't tell you to pressure you." He sighed again and parked the car. "Come on, let's go inside."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they got to the entrance of the building, Fraser stopped and turned to Ray. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Nope, totally serious. And it isn't so bad, trust me."

"Not like I have much choice," Fraser muttered under his breath as Ray led them in, greeting people as they went.

"Hey, Mr. Mustafi, how's it going?" "Mrs. Garcia, thanks for the tip on where to get poblanos." "Hey Lucy, how'd that math test go last week?"

Fraser was quiet as they walked, just watching Ray interact with everyone. When they got to what Fraser assumed was his apartment door, he commented, "You certainly know quite a few people here."

Ray smiled almost shyly and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I do. I'm over here a lot, and you're big on community, so I've gotten to know everyone. Mostly they're good people."

"Do they like me?" He winced inwardly at how needy he sounded.

Ray stopped fumbling with his keys at that and looked at Fraser, surprised. Was that a question he wouldn't normally ask? It was frustrating, feeling like this stranger knew more about him than he did.

"Yeah, they do. I mean, at first they thought you were a freak, but everybody thinks that, what with the super-polite stuff and the uniform and all. But they got to know you and for the most part everybody gets along with you." He went back to looking through his key ring and grinned as he found the right one. "Here we go!" He unlocked the door. "Home sweet home."

He opened the door only to be jumped by a large dog. Fraser took a step back, but Ray seemed unsurprised by the attack. Then Fraser took another involuntary step back as he realized that this wasn't a dog, it was a wolf.

"Hey!" Ray shouted, pulling on the animal's head to look him in the eye. "What have I told you about jumping me first thing?" He grabbed the wolf by the muzzle and shook it playfully, then pushed the beast off of him. "Lay off, mutt," he said fondly, then turned to say something to Fraser, frowning when he saw how far away Fraser had gone.

"You okay?"

Fraser nodded. "Ray, that's a wolf!"

"Half-wolf, yeah, and he's with you, so no worries. You don't recognize him?"

Fraser looked again, then shook his head, and Ray sighed; Fraser could hear the disappointment in it. Then Ray knelt down and looked the half-wolf in the eye. "Okay, Dief, here's the thing - Fraser's taken a hit to the head and he isn't all here right now." He raised an eyebrow as Dief, was it? As Dief cocked his head. "No looking at me like that, bud - I'm serious. Just behave, okay?"

"Does he understand you?" Fraser asked as Ray stood back up.

"You say he does, so I figure it doesn't hurt." He gestured Fraser over. "Come here, Diefenbaker won't bite."

"His name is Diefenbaker? After the Prime Minister?"

"Yep. And that one's all on you, so don't give me that look. You had him when we met - brought him with you from Canada." Ray started inside and Fraser followed, still wary. Diefenbaker watched him with what seemed to be concern, but Fraser really couldn't be sure. It could have been that he was being assessed for the evening's dinner menu for all he knew.

"How did we meet, Ray?"

Ray looked up from where he'd been checking Dief's bowl, and scratched the back of his neck. "You came here for a case," he answered. "I helped you out and you stayed."

Fraser might not remember anything, but he could tell Ray was tiptoeing around something. "And I'm a Mountie."

"Yeah."

"A Mountie that works in Chicago."

"At the Canadian Consulate, yeah."

And I get the feeling there's more to the story than what you're saying because..."

"Because there is, of course there is, but it isn't important right now. If you don't remember that, we gotta try something else."

Fraser made a face and crossed his arms. "Because I know something about a kidnapping and you need me to remember what it is."

Ray mirrored Fraser's stance and gave Fraser the same stubborn look. "Because you're my best friend and my partner and I want you back at 100%." They stared at one another, then Ray grinned, and Fraser couldn't help but smile back. "Okay?" Ray asked.

"Okay."

Ray nodded. "Good. So look around, see if anything looks familiar, sparks something. I'll hang back, try not to bug you."

Fraser surveyed the small apartment, noting that this shouldn't take long; it was pretty bare. He looked around, shuffled through a neat stack of mail, opened and closed cabinets, then moved to look in the trunk at the foot of his bed. Inside, he found stacks of notebooks. He took one out and flipped through it. "Do I write?"

"Those are your dad's. But I gave you one for Christmas this past year – don't know if you use it, though."

Reading through an entry, Fraser observed, "Do we keep in touch?"

Ray coughed at that, and gave Fraser an odd look before answering. "That's a hard one to answer. You've told me you've gotten to know him better lately, reading those, I guess. Does that count?"

"I suppose so," Fraser replied with a shrug. Ray looked relieved at that.

"You want me to help you look for your journal?" Ray and Fraser looked, but it wasn't anywhere that they saw and considering the tidiness and minimal nature of the place, that seemed odd.

"Damn," Ray swore. "I was hoping we could find it – that maybe it'd trigger something. Could be at the Consulate I guess."

"Is it likely that I'd leave something that personal at work?"

"Now that you say it like that, no." He gave the room a quick look. "But I'm out of ideas. Where would you put something if you didn't want it found?"

"You think I'd hide it?"

"Only because I don't see it. And you're a pretty private guy, so yeah, maybe. My best guess would've been with your dad's stuff, kind of hiding in plan sight, but it wasn't there." He looked at Fraser. "So where is it?"

Fraser glared at him, frustrated. "How should I know? Amnesia, remember?"

Ray just gave him a look. "Because you're still you. So where would you put a journal if you wanted to keep it private?"

Fraser thought about that, then moved to the bed. He knelt down and lifted the edge of the mattress by the head of the bed and looked under it, then looked up at Ray with a smile. Reaching in with his free hand, he retrieved the missing journal.

Ray smiled brightly. "Okay – now we are getting somewhere! How about you get changed," he gestured at Fraser to indicate his torn and stained uniform, "and we can take that with us. You do some reading and I'll drive us to the Consulate – maybe work stuff will bring back your memory."

"Okay." Fraser took one look at the uniform in his closet and got a pair of jeans and a henley, then looked at Ray, eyebrow raised.

To his surprise, Ray blushed, then stammered out, "Yeah, right, so I'll just-" he pointed to the door, "I'll take Dief out to do his business and come back in a few. Yeah." He collected Dief and they left. As Ray closed the door behind him, Fraser grinned. That had been interesting. And kind of fun.

Getting out of his serge had been an interesting experience, and Fraser was glad he'd chosen easier clothing to change into. He was just lacing up his boots when Ray and Dief returned. He stood with a nod, "Ready when you are, Ray."

Dief barked, and Ray shushed him. "Yeah, I know, give me a sec," he told Dief, then turned to Fraser. "He wants to come with. You okay with that?"

"I suppose so. You'll vouch for his behavior, right?"

Ray chuckled. "I'll promise he won't bite, but no way am I gonna be responsible for the rest. He's got a sweet tooth like you wouldn't believe, and my personal opinion is that his deafness is selective."

As Ray drove them to the Consulate, Fraser rubbed his head, brow furrowed in concentration. "You okay? We need to stop and get you meds or something?"

"No, it's just, there's something familiar about this."

"What, me driving us around? That's a pretty normal occurrence."

"It's more than that. Something about having this journal with me… Ray, has my father ever been here?"

"Your dad? Why would you ask that?"

"I'm not sure. There's just the barest glimmer of something, of he and I in a car, talking about a case, me holding his notebook. Did that happen here?"

"Only you would remember that and not the easy stuff," Ray muttered to himself. "Your dad… I don't know how to tell you this, but he's dead, Fraser. That's what brought you to Chicago."

"I was on the trail of the killers of my father…"

"Exactly! I was working the case, you came down from the Great White North, and you stayed."

"I chose Chicago over Canada?"

"Pretty much. Uhm, you might have had some other reasons to stay, but they don't need exploring at this juncture." He gestured at the journal. "So maybe you should read some of that, see if it helps jog anything else."

Fraser read through the journal as Ray drove, and while he couldn't remember the events he'd written of, he found it enlightening nonetheless.

"Ray, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything."

"Are you sure we're just friends?"

Ray shot a glance at him. "What is with you and thinking we're-" Ray waved a hand between them. "Together?"

Because what he'd read indicated that if they were just friends, Fraser had wanted more, he didn't say. Because he was still in Chicago, instead of the wilderness he somehow knew he loved. But if the man he couldn't remember being hadn't said anything, there must have been a reason. Still, he couldn't help pushing the subject. After all, he could always blame it on the head injury later.

"Because when I woke up and saw you, you were so worried, so upset. It just seemed like a more than friendly concern. That's why, when the doctor called you my partner, I assumed it was a domestic partnership, not a work-related one."

"Well you assumed wrong. Why can't you just let it go? Maybe it's that nurse thing," he said, waving his hand. "You know, the one where you start thinking you're falling for the person taking care of you? What's-it-called – Florence Nightgown Syndrome?"

Fraser quirked an eyebrow at him. "I think you mean Nightingale, and this is no more likely that than it is Stockholm Syndrome."

"Whatever," Ray shrugged as he parked the car. "We're here," he said, and opened his door.

Fraser shook his head at Ray's obvious ploy to stop the conversation. He gave Ray a sidelong glance. "Do you find me attractive?"

Ray stopped halfway out of the car. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Do. You. Find. Me. Attractive."

"Why does that even matter?"

"Because I'm just trying to figure things out. And for the record, I do find you attractive. Very much so. In case you were wondering." And with that he quickly opened the door and got out before Ray could respond.

Fraser headed to the door, then waited there for Ray, who was getting Dief out of the backseat and avoiding Fraser's gaze. He kept his focus on the half-wolf, opening the door and letting both Fraser and Dief through before following them inside.

Fraser waited just inside, and Ray took the lead, stopping by the desk. The Mountie working there gave Fraser a stricken look as Ray spoke to him, then nodded and picked up the phone.

"He's letting Thatcher know you're here." Fraser looked at him blankly. "Inspector Thatcher – she's your boss. And that's Constable Renfield Turnbull." He leaned in. "I'd stick with talking to Thatcher if I were you. She's kind of cold, but he'll make you more confused than you started out without even trying, believe me."

Fraser stayed back and waited, only giving Turnbull the barest acknowledgement. He'd thought about going over and talking to the man, despite Ray's warning, but one look at the Mountie's face and he decided to do as he was told. Even if he wasn't confusing, he just looked so damned earnest. Fraser wasn't sure he could take it.

It only took a minute for Inspector Thatcher to come out to meet him. Her first look at him made Fraser wonder if she even believed he was injured, which just pissed him off. Somehow, telling her that was all it took to convince her, and she went from disdainful to concerned in a heartbeat. But try as she might, nothing she said to Fraser triggered his memory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Ray had explained the situation, he stayed back as Fraser started talking to Thatcher, glad for a few minutes relatively alone. Turnbull started to approach him, but skittered away at the look on Ray's face. Ray gestured toward the door. "I'm going out for a minute," he announced as he left. Once outside he started walking, pacing back and forth in front of the Consulate, trying to work off some of the anger and frustration he was feeling. Why did the universe's timing have to be so bad? Fraser tells him he's attractive now? When Ray really shouldn't say anything back? Not that he didn't want to, because God knew he did, but with Fraser at less than full capacity it wouldn't be fair or right.

Ray resolved to keep how he felt to himself, because as much as he wanted to believe what he was hearing, wanted to believe that the blow to the head took Fraser's memory but didn't change who he fundamentally was, he knew better than to give in to that desire. Because if it wasn't how Fraser really felt he'd be taking advantage, and they'd come too far these past few months, rebuilding their partnership, their friendship, for Ray to risk messing that up.

For now, he amended, grinning to himself. Because maybe there was a way to turn this to his advantage once things were back to their screwy version of normal. If nothing else, he'd have a hell of a conversation starter.

But for now, he'd keep on doing best to keep things at the status quo.

Fraser came out of the Consulate looking frustrated. "No luck?"

"Nothing. And I don't know who that bothered more, Thatcher or me," Fraser replied as he got into Ray's car.

"Well, maybe a trip to the 2-7 will do the trick." At Fraser's blank look, he added. "That's where we spend most of our time, at the station."

Fraser was quiet for a few minutes, then turned to Ray to ask, "Ray, were Inspector Thatcher and I involved in any way?"

"Involved? You mean, like in a relationship?" He laughed. "That's about as far off base as you can get. She hated you when she first got here – even fired you… well, tried to."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." Ray scowled at that. "It was not a good time. You had to stop me from kicking her in the head more than once over that one." He shook himself, and the motion seemed to shake off his darker mood. "She got better, but not that much better." He gave Fraser a questioning look. "Why? What'd she say to you in there?"

"It wasn't anything she said, more like non-verbal cues."

"She was sending you signals?"

"Yes. Very mixed ones. In fact, they were a lot like I've been getting from you all day."

Ray pointed a finger at Fraser. "We are not talking about this. We need to focus on you getting your memory back."

Fraser turned toward the window, mumbling. "What was that?" Ray asked.

"Just that you're protesting an awful lot. But you don't want to talk about it, so I was trying not to bother you with it."

Ray sighed. "Okay, enough. Just, I don't know, put yourself in my place for just a minute. Pretend I'm the one with the head injury, and that you've got your whole bag of marbles. If I was doing what you are, how would you react?"

Fraser frowned at that. "Considering I don't remember my behavior prior to the concussion, I don't think that's a fair question."

"So what. You aren't being fair, why should I? And for the record, fair is exactly what I'm trying to be, only you just aren't seeing it. Even if I want to go along with what you're saying, and I am very much pleading the fifth on that one, it wouldn't be fair of me to say or do anything while you're still all discombobulated. So cut me some slack, will you?"

Fraser was silent for awhile as he processed that. "I hadn't thought about it that way, Ray. I'm sorry."

"Hey, you aren't at 100%. You're off your game, and I get that. But I can only get it for so long, okay?"

"Okay." Fraser sat there a moment in the uncomfortable silence. "So, can I ask about our partnership? I mean, how long we've been working together, that kind of thing."

"Sure, I guess. It's been almost two years since our first case. I didn't have a partner, so us working together just kind of worked itself out."

"And do I work on a lot of cases? Is there really that much call for me to help you?"

Ray looked a little embarrassed as he answered. "To be honest, we kind of bend the rules on that one sometimes."

"Really? Given what you've told me, I'm surprised I'd be willing to do that."

Ray shrugged and grinned. "It's a lot more interesting than doing paperwork and running errands for the Ice Queen."

Fraser laughed at that. "Did you come up with that name for her or did I, because I just met her but it sounds perfect."

Ray's eyes widened, but he chuckled along with Fraser. "Oh, I am so gonna make sure you remember you said that later. You are never allowed to give me shit over what I call her ever again."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They got to the station and did a walk-through, but it didn't help. When they got to the bullpen Welsh saw them and motioned them over. Ray knew that the lack of progress wasn't going to go over well. "Fraser, why don't you wait at my desk or something for a few while I talk to the Lieu," Ray said.

"Sure, Ray," Fraser replied, and went to sit down, then started thumbing through Ray's case files.

"Still nothing, detective?" Welsh asked, and Ray shook his head.

"We've been all over the city, talked to just about everybody who knows Fraser, and nothing. Didn't even recognize Dief."

"Well, maybe looking through your case files will help," the lieutenant said, nodding toward Ray's desk.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Maybe they – wait a minute. Fraser's at my desk."

"Is there a reason he shouldn't be?"

"I don't think I told him which one it was. This is good!" Ray smiled and hurried over to Fraser.

"So, anything?" he asked, trying not to push.

Fraser frowned; it was obvious he could tell something was going on. "Well, a few of these cases sound familiar, but that could just be because they're typical examples. Now if I found one about me hanging off of a van or something, that might be different, but these are all pretty cut and dried."

"Hanging off a van would be different? How?"

"I don't know. It just popped into my head then. Did I do that? Try to read a license plate and fall? Or is that something I made up just now?"

"Depends on what that license plate number was."

"RCW 139," Fraser rattled off automatically, then looked at Ray in surprise. "Was that right?"

"Let's find out, buddy," Ray replied his grin widening. "Hey, Elaine!" he called out.

The license number was legitimate, and it took very little time for Ray and a back-to-full-memory Fraser to find and apprehend the kidnappers, who turned out to be girlfriends of the kidnapped man, out for revenge after finding out he'd been cheating on them.

"Wow, didn't see that one coming," Ray remarked as he drove. He was taking Fraser back to the hospital, to make sure everything was good. Fraser had, of course protested that he was fine, but Ray had, just as unsurprisingly, ignored him.

"Are you referring to the reason behind the kidnapping?" Fraser asked.

"That too, but what I meant was that guy having all those women after him in the first place. Not a guy I'd have pegged as a player."

"Apparently he has charms we don't see."

"Yeah, or he picks ones that don't mind being strung along, as long as the string is sparkly enough."

"Interestingly put, Ray."

"Thanks." They got to the hospital and got Fraser signed in, then a nurse led them to a waiting area that was, surprisingly, empty. Ray rubbed the back of his neck. "Man, this whole thing has me fried."

"It has been a stressful day. If you'd rather just take me home, we can come back tomorrow and-."

"Nice try but no dice," Ray interrupted. "We're here now – might as well keep waiting." He went back to his original point. "You with no memory for a day was freaky. I want to make sure we're done with it, thank you very much." He thought of something and shook his head.

"What?"

Did he want to say it? What the hell. "Just, this case, where nothing ended up like we thought it was… that's pretty much been the theme of the day. Looking past appearances, I mean, and getting to the truth."

Fraser didn't answer for a minute, and Ray just let him think. "I believe I know what you're getting at, Ray," he finally answered, "and I'm not sure how to account for my actions. It appears that the blow to my head altered my-"

Ray held up a hand to stop Fraser from going any further. "Wait. Just… wait. You spent all that time and energy trying to convince me that your feelings toward me weren't because you hit your head, and now you're going to say that they were?" He shook his head. "That's some seriously mixed signals you're sending, Fraser."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Fraser answered, flustered. "I didn't mean to -" he stopped midsentence when he saw the grin on Ray's face. "You think this is funny," he accused, glaring. "You're teasing me. That isn't at all buddies, Ray."

"Sorry, Fraser. I'm not trying to mess with you. It's just seeing you all thrown off like that is kind of cute."

"Cute," Fraser replied, eyebrows raised.

Ray shrugged. "Yeah, cute."

"And you're not upset by any of what's happened."

"Only if you're going to go into total denial over it now." He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "So, you taking it all back, or did you mean it?"

Fraser rubbed at his eyebrow. "Are you serious, Ray?"

"Yeah, I think I am." Fraser looked at him askance, and Ray frowned. "Why do you find that so hard to believe?"

"You've never professed an interest in men to me before."

Ray cocked his head. "And you have?"

Fraser conceded that with a nod. "Point taken."

Ray pushed off the wall and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "I've never said I was interested in anyone except Stella, you mean. Big difference there. Are you really gonna base your theory on one piece of evidence? That's pretty sloppy policework, Fraser."

"It is a particularly strong piece of evidence, you have to admit."

"Yeah, but it's still just the one thing." He scratched the back of his neck as he thought. "And you're right – I've never really done anything with a guy. And maybe I haven't even thought about it that much. But so what? Since I met you I've done a lot of stuff I never thought I'd do."

"And complained about it," Fraser pointed out.

"Yeah, but this is different."

"How can you be sure?"

Ray had no idea how to answer that. "It just is. And this conversation's been coming for awhile. You have to know that as well as I do."

"Do I?"

"Come on! We spend all our time together, I know as much about you as anyone and maybe even more, we're always in each other's space, we never date, you want to meet my parents, for crying out loud!"

"All of which can be accounted for by friendship."

"I danced with you," Ray added. "You even noticed how comfortable it was."

"Yes, I suppose I did."

"Well, I don't know about you, but the weirdest thing about that whole scenario to me was just how weird it wasn't. I mean, you called me out for how I was treating you so different, only when I thought about it, I really wasn't. Okay, maybe with the door-holding thing, but that's about it. I talked to you same as I always do, and that includes the flirting, which yes I know I do." He pointed at Fraser. "How you were reacting, now that was a little different, you have to admit."

Fraser thought about it. "I suppose it was, though not that differently."

"No, which is my point. We need to figure this thing out, Fraser."

Before Fraser could respond, the nurse came to get Fraser, and Ray was asked to wait outside. He waited nervously in the hall as the doctor checked Fraser over. He hated that they'd been interrupted, because this conversation was probably one of the most important ones Ray would ever have. Whatever happened, he'd just opened up a whole set of possible problems. Or opportunities. Ray wasn't sure which it was, but both options scared the piss out of him.

Fraser came out with a clean bill of health, but made it clear he didn't want to talk any more. Ray was frustrated, and jittery and stressed and tired and Fraser had probably made the right call, but it still sucked, and he made sure Fraser knew it. As he dropped Fraser and Dief off, Fraser promised to call him from work the next day.

It wasn't until the end of a very long shift that Fraser finally called. Ray had done his best to distract himself, but he knew all he'd done was annoy everyone at the station. The call started with small talk, then Fraser hit him with the big guns.

"I have some leave I need to use. Considering my recent injury, Inspector Thatcher is strongly encouraging me to take it now."

Ray nodded, even though Fraser couldn't see him. "Makes sense. Got any ideas of what you're gonna do?"

"I'd been thinking about going back to my father's cabin, doing some more work on it. I can't imagine just staying idle."

"No, that wouldn't be you, would it?" Ray looked down at his desk, shuffling papers absently.

"I've been thinking about going back for some time, Ray – it isn't, well that is, I don't want you to think I'm running away."

"No, that's cool. I get it. And maybe, I don't know. Maybe it's a good idea. Maybe a little time apart is what we both need, to think."

"You mean so I have time to come to my senses."

"I mean, so we both have time to really think about things, about what we want. About whether changing things up is something we really want to try. Because I don't know about you, but I'm having trouble wrapping my brain around this when you're with me."

"I'm a distraction?"

"A big one," Ray replied, smiling. "And mostly a good one, so don't get all worried. But we've been dancing around this so long – I just don't want to take the wrong step."

"Understood. Well, then, I guess I should be making some plans. If you need to reach me, you can always contact the nearest outpost. I'll make sure to leave the numbers with you."

"I know, your dad's place hasn't got anything resembling 20th century tech. Another reason you should get a cell phone."

"Which also wouldn't work, seeing as there's no tower to transmit a signal." Fraser paused, then went on. "I'll miss you, Ray."

"I'll miss you too, buddy. But it's only a few weeks, right?"

"Right. And when I return…"

"When you return we'll have this talk again."

"I'm looking forward to it."

Ray hung up the phone feeling better than he had all day. It looked like maybe, finally, he was going to catch a break.

 

Interlude

The light in the kitchen window was Frannie's only warning that something wasn't right. Elaine had a late class on Tuesdays, so it wasn't her. And even if she had been home beforehand, she never left lights on; it was something her mother had drilled into her practically from birth, the way she told it.

Frannie thought about calling the station, then decided to do a little looking around of her own first. After all, if she ever decided to be a cop (and at this point it was just a matter of which voice in her head was gonna win, Elaine's telling her she'd be great, or Ma's asking why she'd want to make her worry about her little girl like that and wasn't it enough that Raimundo had followed that path?) she'd have to do this kind of sleuthing around, right?

She crept up to the side of the house and peered in the window, but didn't see anyone. After a few minutes of waiting, Frannie decided maybe she was just over-reacting. Maybe she'd left the light on, maybe Elaine had forgotten, maybe she should just go in already and quit getting her pumps muddy.

Since the light was already on, she went to the back door and started fumbling for her key. Just as she put it up to the lock, the door swung inward, making her jump. A hand gripped her arm and pulled her in. She yanked free and was torn between swinging a punch and making a run for it when she got a look at her would-be attacker.

"Jesus, Ray! What are you trying to do, scare me to death?"

"Hello to you too, sis," Ray Vecchio replied. "What, you didn't see the light?"

She thwapped his arm as she made her way to a chair to sit. "So I see a light on and I automatically know it's you?" she replied, rolling her eyes. "I thought you were in Florida. Ma didn't say anything about you coming to town."

"She doesn't exactly know," he said, not meeting her eyes. "Listen, Frannie, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I need to ask you something. How well do you know Benton Fraser?"

Frannie threw her arms up in disgust. "Please do not tell me that's why you're here! He's a friend, okay? Yeah, I might have had a crush on him, which is totally justifiable I'll have you know, because he's absolutely gorgeous and kind and good and… anyhow, I don't need another lecture about how he isn't the right guy for me, so if that's why you're here you can just fly on back to the Sunshine State."

Ray looked shocked at her outburst. "Okay, so I'll take that as a yes. I need your help. I need to know about this guy. Can you tell me about him?"

"Why?"

Ray sighed heavily. "Because in a week I'll be his partner, that's why."

"His partner? But what about Ray? He and Fraser are great together. They're like the station's best team."

"Which is why I'm not gonna be me for this." He sighed again. "It's complicated. All I can tell you is that Ray Kowalski just got pulled for a major undercover assignment. As in Federal level. But like you said, he and Fraser have a great rep, and Welsh and the higher ups don't want to lose that. So I'm coming in to be Ray while he's gone."

Frannie just stared at him. "You're going to be Ray Kowalski. Blond-haired, hot-tempered, every-day-is-casual-Friday Ray Kowalski." She shook her head. "Pull the other one."

He just kept looking at her, his face deadly serious. "It's screwball, I know, but it's the God's honest truth. So I need to know about Fraser if I'm going to be his partner. I have a bunch of case files, but they don't tell me the important stuff. Can you help me?"