A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds of lovers past
Until a new one comes along
-- Billy Joel
From his seat on Ben's windowsill, Bob Fraser watched his son from a mere few inches away. Too narrow a perch for a mortal, but one of the advantages of being dead was that you could sit wherever you liked; and right now, he wanted to study Ben at close range. His son stood beside him gazing out his window, right through his invisible father in fact, if he'd only known it. The sadness in his eyes tugged at Bob so much that he almost decided to materialize, to let Ben see him. Almost. But he reminded himself that it wouldn't do any good to show himself just yet. Ben needed his help all right, but for now, he could best give it to him by staying out of sight and working behind the scenes.
At least, he hoped that was the best idea. He sighed to himself. Difficult thing, being a father. Even after your children grow up, even after you die, your responsibility for them doesn't end. If anything, his was greater now. Since he'd neglected them while he was alive, his parental duties had therefore become his first priority in the afterlife. That was the way things worked here.
But Ben didn't make that easy. Eyeing his tall, sturdy son at close range, Bob couldn't help wondering how he kept making such a hash of his personal life, when he was such a superb physical specimen. Most men would've given their eye teeth to be half as handsome as Ben was, and most women a great deal more to get close to him. Yet he didn't even seem to notice the way he turned heads, didn't seem aware of that particular advantage at all.
Maybe that's partly my fault, Bob thought ruefully. After all, he'd never been able to talk to him about it. Didn't seem appropriate, a father telling his own son that he looked like God's gift to women. He'd been afraid it might swell Benton's head. Still, it was a truth Bob saw all too clearly. He couldn't help it. Ben had been that way since he was a boy, so beautiful it almost hurt you to look at him. It had always hurt him a little, anyway, because Ben had gotten that from Caroline. Her large, innocent, expressive eyes, her gorgeous mouth. Every time he looked at his son, he saw her in him; and once he lost her, that had been both a blessing and a curse.
Strange, how beauty could be both a gift and an affliction -- but Ben's was. It got him noticed all right, but not necessarily by the right people, or in the right ways. Fraser Sr. shook his head, thinking of that Metcalf woman, and of the current Kowalski problem.
Stanley Ray Kowalski to be precise: his son's second Yank partner. He'd noticed Ben's beauty all right! Bob reflected wryly. Though he hadn't admitted it to himself, the Yank had been dazzled by it, right from the first. Bob had recently learned that Kowalski had developed a crush on his son almost from the moment they met, which had eventually led to--
Well, to what had happened that night he'd taken Ben out for a beer, about four months ago. Their first -- well, their first kiss. It was still a bit hard for him even to think about that. It had been a hell of a nasty shock. He'd known something was up with Ben after the Torrance woman left, of course. He'd as much as admitted that he was lonely. But when Bob had heard Kowalski invite him out to dinner, he'd left them alone for a time, trusting that his son's partner would find some way to cheer him up. He'd stopped by later on to find out if Kowalski had in fact managed to banish Ben's blues, and to see if they had any interesting leftovers...
And he'd gotten the shock of his afterlife.
They were done with dinner by then, and sitting in Kowalski's car, so leftovers weren't an option. Worse still, when he'd materialized in the back seat, there was his son up front, kissing his own partner -- and even more unbelievably, there was the American, kissing him back! Two policemen, making out in a car like a couple of het-up teenagers. Bob couldn't believe it. He'd wanted the Yank to take Ben's mind off his woman troubles, but not like that!
Still, he knew it was as much Ben's fault as Kowalski's. And it wasn't the first time Ben had done something like that, either. There were those incidents at RCMP Depot years before, with that young cadet... Bob hadn't approved of that either, but at the time, he'd assumed it was a kind of aberration brought on by loneliness. He'd never thought it would happen again. But when he saw him with Kowalski, he knew he'd been wrong about that. It was obvious that his son was attracted to men; and equally obvious -- at least to him -- that trouble would probably come of it.
And it had. They'd had a fight, just days after their first night together. That hadn't surprised him; what did was the way they both handled it. Immaturely, to say the least. They'd parted and refused to speak to each other since. He'd been sorely tempted to dispense a fatherly lecture to Ben about it in fact, on the virtues of persistence in the face of adversity. They'd both given up much too easily, in his opinion.
So Kowalski defected after your argument. Big deal! he wanted to tell him. It isn't the end of the world. It isn't even an insurmountable difficulty! After all, it's not as if he took a dogsled and vanished into uncharted territory. He just transferred to a different district within Chicago -- and it's a modern city, son, amply equipped with telephones. All you have to do is stop mooning out your window every night, swallow your pride and call the Yank, for God sakes!
It seemed simple enough to him. But somehow, things with Ben were never simple. They never had been. So tempted though he was to do so, he didn't tell him to call Kowalski because he knew better than to interfere this time -- at least verbally. He hadn't gotten anywhere warning Ben before, during his last disastrous romantic entanglement. He'd told him outright that time how little he knew about his dark-haired banshee of a lover, Victoria Metcalf. He'd tried to tell him she was Disaster with a capital D, but he hadn't listened.
No doubt Ben wouldn't listen to what he had to say this time, either. If he told him to dial Kowalski's number and try to work things out with him, he would probably accuse him of being out of his mind. He often did that, when presented with sensible advice.
He shook his head ruefully. Stubborn, that's Ben. Always has been. Inherited that from Caroline too, no doubt. Gets his heart stuck on the oddest people, and there's no budging him. Hell, that Metcalf woman shot his wolf, framed him and nearly got his best friend sent to prison, yet he still ran after her like she was Jeanette McFriggingDonald!
It made no sense to him. Then again, a woman had been involved, and women seldom made sense, in his experience. And it seemed Ben had similar problems fathoming the fair sex, because that whole affair had been a mess from start to finish. In the end, he'd been forced to intervene in the only way he could; by letting his first partner, the Yank with the big nose, shoot him. God knew, that hadn't been an easy decision. But the boy was so lovestruck that nothing he said made a dent in his devotion; and if he'd allowed him to run off with her, he'd've wound up dead. So he'd done what he had to do, for his son's sake.
Eventually, it seemed Ben had gotten over the injuries, both physical and emotional, that were inflicted on him by (and because of) Victoria Metcalf. But it seemed like his son just recovered from one of Cupid's arrows, when he got hit by another. Now there's this American, Ray Kowalski. Odd lookin' fella: hair's always standing straight up, like he just stuck his finger in a light socket. And I swear he's never used a razor in his life. Dresses like a derelict, too. Likes to listen to loud rock music and drives like he's never heard of speed limits, either. Bit of a barbarian, really.
But choosing such a person was typical of Ben. He was very handsome, he could take his pick of partners, but who did he decide to love? First, a crazed criminal out to destroy him. That had been bad enough, but at least she'd been attractive, and properly female. But now, he'd fallen head over heels for a man -- his own partner, for pity's sake -- and a blonde barbarian to boot! Bob shook his head again. Odd choices. It's enough to drive a father to distraction.
Still, now that he'd had some time to get over the shock of it, he had to admit, Ben's latest lover was at least an improvement on his first. If you overlooked the unfortunate fact that he wore pants, Kowalski had some good qualities: he was brave, strong despite his slenderness, a good shot (when he wore his glasses), and a loyal partner. The type who'd follow a man through hell if need be. He'd sensed that about him right away, and told Ben as much.
He smiled wryly to himself. In retrospect, maybe telling him that he approved of his new partner had been a mistake. But when he'd said "He's a good man, son," he'd just been trying to tell him that Kowalski was trustworthy, not to suggest that Ben take the barbarian to bed! But he had. Bob knew it, because he'd visited Ben again the night after that shocking kiss in Kowalski's car, and found them together as before. And that time, they were locked in an even more passionate embrace. In fact, when they went back to Kowalski's apartment, their encounter had grown so heated that he'd been forced to leave in order to give them some privacy.
He sighed again. Oh well. For good or ill, it was done now. And maybe in a way, it had been for the best. Because from the urgent way they'd been kissing at the door of the Yank's apartment, it was obvious they were both in dire need of a good--
Well, you know. A bit of fun. Thigh up, leg over, whatever.
Not that he'd stayed to watch that part, mind you. Though he had no doubt the sex had been passionate, he'd winked out again before he actually saw it. He drew the line at watching his son in bed. He used to arrest men for peeping when he was alive, he wasn't about to become a voyeur in the afterlife. But he'd assumed, from the way they were moaning and groping each other when he left, that matters had taken their logical course.
Besides, he knew his son. Ben was as straight-laced as they came, almost scared to death of the opposite sex actually, especially after that Metcalf woman got through with him. He usually didn't let people get close enough to touch him, let alone for a roll in the hay. But he was also very passionate, under his controlled exterior. So when someone did get past his defenses, the result of all that abstinence and his own repressed desire was that he usually lost control. And he'd never seen Ben so worked up as he'd been that night with the Yank. It had been a veritable explosion of pent-up sexual energy. They'd been going at each other so enthusiastically that he doubted they'd gotten a wink of sleep all night.
Still, though he'd beaten a hasty retreat that night without trying to interfere, the liaison had troubled him at first. It wasn't what he would've chosen for his son. He would've preferred that Ben give his boss a try. Not only was she female, and thus able to give him grandchildren, but she was also RCMP. An officer. Now, there would've been a match! He'd done his best to promote her, but when did Ben ever listen? Actually, he suspected that Victoria might've put him off women forever. Not that he blamed him for that -- she'd been frightening enough to scare almost any man away from women.
But the fact remained that his son needed to have some fun. He was far too stern and humorless for his own good. Handsome as he was, he never seemed to let himself enjoy that. But he had with the Yank. Kowalski had shown an intense, enthusiastic appreciation of Ben's beauty -- which Fraser had reciprocated.
And for that, Bob owed Kowalski a debt of gratitude. Thinking of him, he smiled a private little smile. He would never tell Ben, but he had to admit, the Yank did have rather fetching blue eyes, for a man.
So upon reflection, he'd decided that if Ben wanted to plow the blonde barbarian instead of a woman, he would turn a blind eye, so to speak. Since Ben wanted him so badly, and he wasn't a bad sort, he'd more or less resigned himself to the idea. And he supposed things could've been worse. After all, the Yank was a policeman too, so they understood each other. Plus, he made Ben smile, and he would never betray him the way that woman had. After Bob got used to the situation, it had actually begun to seem like a simple (if rather unconventional) solution to Ben's problems with romance.
It should've been simple, anyway. But they'd messed it up, as usual. There they were, presumably going at it like rabbits, and blowing off some much-needed steam in the process -- nothing wrong with that. But then, for reasons that he'd never understand, they'd had to introduce Feelings into the situation! They'd both decided they were In Love; and of course, events had immediately taken a turn for the worse.
He grimaced. I could've told them that would happen. Because they were both so starry-eyed they couldn't think straight, they'd had a silly little misunderstanding that had turned into a fight. Then the Yank had taken a powder. Transferred out like the devil was on his tail, convinced that Ben was betraying him with his first partner, Ray Vecchio.
Bob resented his part in this a little. He'd been away for a whole year by the time Ben fell for Kowalski. Did he have to come back from his stint in the Mafia on that day, of all days? Just in time to throw a spanner into the works? he thought testily. The worst of it is, Ben's never even touched him. Far as I can tell, he never even wanted to! So Kowalski ran away for nothing!
He sniffed to himself. It was all very complicated and messy. In my day, if two men wanted to share the same bedroll, they just did it, then never talked about it. They kept it hidden, and didn't attach any confusing emotions to it. As it should be.
Ben, who had been gazing silently out the window while his father worried over him, suddenly interrupted Bob's thoughts. He finally shifted his gaze from the street below for a moment, and peered around his apartment with a forlorn look. "Dad?" he heard him whisper.
It was a lonely sound, so lonely that he almost gave in to the plea. Ben sounded so completely miserable that he was tempted to become visible just long enough to tell him, "I'm here, son." Just that. No fatherly advice, just a quick materialization so his son would realize that he was still there watching over him. But then Ben muttered a comment that he was never around when he was needed; and he thought better of it.
Hmm. If you're going to get snotty about it, then you can keep yourself company, Benton, he sniffed, peeved. Typical of you to assume that I'm not paying any attention to you lately, just because you can't see me. You look, but you don't see, he thought, not for the first time. The truth was, he'd been watching Ben more closely in the past few months than he had in ages.
If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his ability to learn from his mistakes. And he'd learned that, competent as his son was in certain areas, he was a bumbler when it came to romance. He'd let Ben handle his affair with that woman on his own that last time, and he'd wound up in serious trouble. He'd almost died. He wasn't about to let that happen again. So he'd resolved to meddle in his current problem with Kowalski, but this time, he'd taken a different approach.
Rather than hanging around lecturing Ben on his poor taste in romantic partners, or trying to change his mind, he'd decided to help him out. Try to get the Yank back. Because being dead, as he'd often told his son, gave a man certain advantages. One of those was the ability to see into the hidden hearts of the living; and he'd given Stanley Ray Kowalski a good, close look lately, for Ben's sake. That look had confirmed his first impression of the Yank: despite his flaws, Kowalski was a good man. A bit insecure perhaps, but he had his reasons for that. Hot headed and emotional at times too, but that made him a good foil for Ben, who tended to think everything to death. But Kowalski's greatest virtue -- the one that outweighed all his flaws in Bob's eyes -- was the fact that he really was totally, completely, head over heels in love with his son. He hadn't made that up to complicate their affair, as Bob had thought at first, or to strengthen his hold on Fraser; he truly loved him. He needed him too. He couldn't help himself.
That was what decided Bob in the end. Ben had always been quiet and shy, and after that Metcalf harpy got through with him, he'd become so emotionally distant that Bob thought it unlikely he'd ever warm up to anyone again. But Kowalski had melted his ice all right; and Fraser returned his love with a passion Bob had almost stopped believing that he was capable of feeling. And since God only knew when Ben would meet anyone who wanted him as much as Kowalski did again, Bob thought he might just be Ben's last chance at happiness. So come Hell or high water, he'd made up his mind to get the Yank for his son.
Ben gave up his vigil at the window with a sigh, and retreated to his bed. But once in it, as per usual lately, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Bob knew why. He was thinking about Kowalski again. Wanting him. Missing him. Which only strengthened his resolve to get the two men back together. Being a father was the one thing I was as much a failure at as Ben is at romance. This time around, I have to do better.
But since Ben tended to get stubborn when he knew he was taking an interest in his affairs, he'd contented himself with meddling invisibly, this time. He'd done his part to reunite the parted lovers secretly, by enabling them to contact each other in dreams. Just to keep the lines of communication open, so to speak, though they weren't seeing each other anymore. To keep either of them from doing anything stupid. To keep Fraser away from his window, and the Yank away from his gun, long enough for them to realize that they should be together.
"You're a fool," he heard Ben whisper bitterly to himself.
He nodded. You'll get no argument from me on that lately, son, he thought wryly. Both he and Kowalski had been behaving like children these last few months, pouting in their respective apartments refusing to communicate, yet secretly pining away for each other. Still -- another reason why he hadn't lectured Ben about his foolishness was that once upon a time, he and Buck Frobisher had acted the same way. Well, not exactly the same, of course. They hadn't been sleeping together after all. But they'd had a similar parting of the ways for similarly foolish reasons, and hadn't spoken to each other for years as a result. So he could hardly give himself airs as far as reasonable behavior with friends was concerned.
So after a time, he took pity on Ben's unhappiness, and sent him soothing thoughts to ease him into sleep. A short while later, he was rewarded when Ben's eyes drifted shut, and his breathing grew slower and deeper. He waited awhile longer, gazing down at the street below with the patience of a man who'd learned it the hard way. He waited while his son sank deeper into sleep -- into a place where he could reach him in his dreams.
Then Bob Fraser disappeared from the window ledge, and walked to meet his son.
"Hi, Dad," Fraser said when they approached each other. He was wearing casual clothes, Bob noticed. Jeans, a blue flannel shirt and leather jacket. The same clothes he'd had on when he and Kowalski first kissed months ago. It didn't surprise him. Ben wore those clothes often in his dreams, because he liked to revisit that moment.
That, Bob understood. He still remembered what he'd been wearing the night he'd first kissed Caroline. So he didn't comment. He just smiled. "Hello, son. You sound rather surprised to see me," he said instead.
Fraser gave him a look. A huffy, surprised little look that could've meant either, "I have no idea what you mean," or "How dare you read my mind like that!" Then he tugged at his ear and shrugged. "Well, you have been rather scarce these last few months, Dad," he said at last.
"Nonsense," he smiled. "I've been around, son. Keeping up, just as usual."
"With what, Dad? You're dead."
Oh, I only had a nickel, Bob thought, rolling his eyes in exasperation at that remark. "Well, with you and your partner, for one," he said.
"Ray Vecchio?" Ben asked, deliberately misunderstanding him. "I expect you've heard that he's getting married. You aren't planning on attending the wedding, are you, Dad?" he asked, with more than a trace of trepidation in his eyes.
"No, I don't mean Vecchio," he said, a bit crossly. "Don't be obtuse!"
"I'm not--"
"I'm talking about your other partner, son. The other Ray."
"Oh," Ben said. Just that. 'Oh'. But there was a world of meaning in that one syllable. It meant, "Oh, him. I don't want to talk about him."
But then he and Ben seldom agreed on conversational topics, so he didn't let that stop him. "Ray Kowalski," he persisted patiently. "The skinny Yank with the stand-up hair, who never learned to shave. The one who--"
"I know who he is, Dad!" Ben interrupted, so hastily that Bob wondered if he'd been afraid he was going to say, "The one who left you." He hadn't been, but he didn't get a chance to tell him that, because Ben spoke up again. "But he's not my partner anymore. He's gone, and I don't even know where he is." He tried hard to sound as if he didn't care, either, but though his tone was calm enough, Bob knew better. Fraser had been eating his heart out over the Yank ever since he'd left, he was just too proud to admit it.
"Yes you do, son. He's just across town," he said pointedly. "At the 29th District. You know that perfectly well."
"Well, knowing it is one thing -- being able to do anything about it is another," Ben said.
Bob rolled his eyes. Stubborn, stubborn. "There are plenty of taxis in this town, son, and beyond that, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with your legs. Is there something else preventing you from making a visit?"
Fraser shook his head. "It's not a question of transportation, Dad. I can't go there because Ray doesn't want me to," he said, avoiding his eyes. And there was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice, this time. "He doesn't want me," he said hoarsely. "He told me to go away. He--he kicked my hat, Dad."
Ben sounded like nothing so much as a bewildered little boy; and Bob's heart went out to him. But he knew better than to show it. What his son needed was good advice, not softness. "Horrors," he said wryly. And when Ben's crystal blue eyes lifted to his, he said crisply, "I'm not saying you have to go to the 29th , son. That's up to you. But you'd better not wait too long to patch up your differences. You'd better do something, and you'd better do it soon, because that partner of yours is starting to drift."
"Drift?" Ben echoed. "What do you mean?"
"Well, he--"
"Are you trying to tell me he's lost at sea, Dad? That he's adrift in a lifeboat somewhere? What?"
Bob gritted his teeth. Ben wasn't just being literal, he was also being sarcastic. He hated that. He knew it sprang from his unhappiness, but it was still hard to take. "I mean drift in the sense of straying from the right path," he said. If Ben wanted literal, he'd give him literal. He'd spell it out for him. "As in wandering. As in sliding--"
"All right, all right, Dad! I understand," Ben interrupted again.
He still looked peevish, but Bob heard something else in his voice too. Something like concern. Maybe even fear. So he pressed on. "With you, the Yank had a purpose, a direction -- but now he's rudderless. Drifting," he repeated stubbornly, because it was a good description. "He's unhappy without you, and his new partner is leading him into bad habits."
He didn't want to come out and say what those were, because he didn't want to hurt Ben any more than he already was. But the darkness that clouded his son's blue eyes at that hint told him that he already knew that Kowalski's new partner was also his lover. Well, if you can call it that, he harrumphed to himself. He'd dropped in to check up on the Yank one night, and caught him rolling around on the floor with his younger partner in a rough, revolting fashion. He knew they'd been about to have sex, but it had looked more like a wrestling match, that the Yank was losing.
Benton didn't say anything. Bob sensed it was because he was too choked up with pain and jealousy to speak. But he couldn't let the subject drop just yet. He needed to warn him. So he went on, "I've got a feeling that if this drags on too long, something terrible is going to happen."
Ben stepped closer to him, his eyes intent. Openly worried now. "What, Dad? What's going to happen?"
Bob shook his head. "That's all I can tell you, son," he said, not without regret. "The rest is up to you."
Then he walked away, wondering how powerful the dream he'd conjured had been. How much of it his son would remember when he awoke the next morning.
The next day, Ray and Rylan drove downtown to talk to Ty Donen. Ray wasn't looking forward to it. He wasn't really sure he'd been right about Donen being the scumbag they were after. Actually, he wasn't sure he'd been right about anything lately. And being unable to sleep much hadn't helped. Despite downing three cups of coffee while he'd watched the sunrise, then drinking another two after they got to the station, he still felt like shit. His hands were shaking from his caffeine o.d., and he wasn't much in the mood for the coming confrontation. Bundled up in his overcoat, he brooded as he drove about the sorry state his life was in. About the unexpected thing that had happened between him and his partner the night before, and what it meant. If anything. About his freaky dream of Ben, and what it might mean too.
"Man, you're a bundle o' laughs today," Rylan complained.
Ray shot him a sideways glance. Izzat some kinda complaint about last night? he wondered, defensive in the light of his own doubts. What'd he expect -- that I'd be singin' cuz he worked me over like a cheap hooker? Not a chance! Not only was he not going to sing, he didn't even feel happy. He felt uneasy. More depressed than he had before. But he didn't want to admit that, or to think about the dream he'd had about Fraser, either. He didn't want to talk at all. "You want chuckles, hire a clown," he snapped.
Rylan just shrugged and leaned over to switch the radio on. Ray let him, thinking the music would distract the kid so he wouldn't have to make conversation. But it ended up distracting him instead. Ray had tuned it to an oldies station the day before, and the dial was still set there. So when Pat turned it on, "Unchained Melody" poured out of the speakers. Ray expected him to change the station, since Pat's tastes ran more to hard rock, but for some reason, he didn't. He just sat back, stared out of the window and let the music play. And as the sad piano notes filled the car, Ray thought inevitably of Fraser.
Oh my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch
A long, lonely time...
"Just what I need. An oldie moldie," he growled, trying to cover up the way the music tuned into the deep well of pain inside him. The way it brought his hurting to the surface, made it hard to hide. Perversely, though he'd been relieved when Rylan had turned it on, now he only wanted the music off. "Get rid o' that, willya?"
But Rylan didn't respond. He just hummed along with the song. Not getting the hint -- or not taking it.
Either way, it pissed him off. Ray gritted his teeth. "Turn that off, okay?"
"Why? I know it's old, but I like it. It's a classic," Rylan said. "What's your problem?" He settled back in his seat and gave Ray a look. It wasn't so much challenging as curious.
Uh oh, Ray thought. His instinct was to lean over and change the station anyway, despite Pat's objections, but the spark of curiosity in his eyes changed his mind. I should probably let it go. It's just a stupid song anyway, who cares? He got the feeling that Rylan had just insisted on listening to it at first because he knew it bugged him. But the more he bitched about it, the more he was starting to wonder why. And he didn't want him thinking about that. The kid's eyes were way too sharp, and Ray didn't want to make him jealous. He was asking way too many questions about him and Fraser already...
"No problem," he lied, keeping his hands on the wheel. Playing it cool. But as the song played on, though he tried, he couldn't tune it out.
And time goes by
So slowly,
But time can do so much...
Are you still mine?
That, he thought bitterly, is the sixty four thousand dollar question. Is Frayzh alone now, or is he with Vecchio? He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was trying hard to look cool because Rylan was still watching him, but the damn lyrics were hitting him where he lived, in that secret spot deep inside that still bled if he thought too much about the Mountie.
I need your love,
I need your love,
God speed your love
To me.
As the song built to its climax, its lyrics triggered painful memories. Ray's fingers tightened reflexively on the wheel. God speed? Jesus effing Christ! Who the hell talks like that anymore? I've never heard anyone use those words in my life, except-- Pain filled him as he remembered a happier time at the 27th, when Fraser had gripped his arm in the middle of a case, smiled at him with those amazing blue eyes and said, "God speed, Ray."
Suddenly his chest contracted, and his eyes burned. "I said, turn that shit off!" he growled. But before Rylan could move, he leaned forward and shut the radio off himself.
This time, Rylan didn't protest. Silence fell between them, so thick that Ray could hear his own agitated breathing. But Pat was cool, as usual. He just lounged on his side of the car, watching him closely.
Like a cat, Ray thought, unsettled and embarrassed. Like a fuckin' cat playin' with a mouse. He stared at the road ahead, avoiding his eyes. Damning himself for losing control like that.
"Whatsa' matter, Ko?" Rylan asked softly. "That cut a little too close for comfort or something?"
Ray hated the way the kid seemed to be able to read his mind. To look right through his dark glasses, heavy coat and cool attitude to the emotions seething inside him. Then again, he'd kind of lost his cool for a minute there, so maybe it'd been pretty obvious. Hell, a reasonably bright teenager probably could've picked up on his mood, and been able to make a pretty good guess at the reason for it, too. "I just hate that stupid song, okay?" he lied. "Always have."
Rylan just kept looking at him, his eyes curious and intent. "If you say so."
Ray clung to the wheel. "Yeah, I do. I think you just heard me say so."
Rylan shrugged carelessly, and finally turned his gaze to the road in front of them again. "Whatever."
Rylan was quiet for a long time after that. All the way to Donen's restaurant. Still, Ray had the disturbing feeling that wheels were turning in his head. Wheels that he would never let Ray see. Wheels that were probably coming up with ideas that he wouldn't like. And he felt more uneasy than ever. He was sorry he'd turned off the radio, sorry he'd ever let the stupid song get to him like that.
Sorry about everything.
He swore to himself that if he found out Donen was the creep they were lookin' for -- if he smelled even a hint of guilt when they interviewed him -- he'd make him sorry, too. Big time. Right in front of his customers, if need be.
He needed something to look forward to.
Fraser woke that morning with a sense of impending doom. A feeling that something bad was going to happen. Something that he should remember -- something that he needed to prevent. And he thought of Ray Kowalski.
Then he tried to dismiss the chill that swept over him. That's nonsense, he told himself. It's not a premonition, I'm just obsessed with him. I can't think about anyone else, and I must've had a dream that gave me a strange feeling, and now my subconscious has combined the two. It doesn't mean anything!
But for the next hour, while he dressed, shaved and fed Diefenbaker, he couldn't get the worry out of his mind. It settled into his stomach, a cold, hard lump that wouldn't go away. And it wasn't nameless, that fear. Its name was Stanley Ray Kowalski.
I'll call him, he told himself. I will. I'll just swallow my pride and pick up the phone.
But he'd been telling himself that for four months now, and it still hadn't happened. And he wondered, as Ray Vecchio drove him to the Consulate later on, if it would happen today either.
Later that day, Frannie sat at her desk polishing her nails and thinking. Things were a complete mess; and she didn't like it. She didn't like it one bit. Everything was so screwed up right now, it wasn't even funny. Ray, Serena, Benton and Ray Kowalski... They'd all started falling like a bunch of dominoes when Kowalski left the 27th. Now, even with Serena here, Ray was still worried, because Ben was so unhappy. Oh, Ray was happy enough when he was with Serena, but when he wasn't, when he and Ben were working together, she'd seen how Ray watched him, how concerned he was about him. She heard him keep asking, "You okay, Benny? You're sure nothin's wrong?" And she'd seen how he stomped around the station after because Benton kept lying and telling him he was fine. Worse still, Ray was having nightmares. He had been, ever since he'd come home.
And the other Ray...
She shook her head, thinking of him. Jeez! Kowalski's gone completely off the friggin' deep end!It seemed like he was out to prove he didn't care about anyone or anything, even though it was completely, screamingly obvious (at least to her) that he was so in love he could hardly see straight.
Actually, that was part of the problem. Kowalski was so in love, and so torn up about it, that he wasn't seeing straight right now. He was acting like a wild man, acting nuts -- and she was deeply worried about him. From the ugly rumors she was hearing from the 29th, it was a miracle he wasn't dead already. He'd only been there a few months, but he already had a reputation as a real hot shot. The guy who'd take cases no one else would, who'd go places no one else would dare.
And she knew why. Ray wasn't stupid -- far from it. And he'd never given a damn about his reputation, or getting ahead either. He'd never been a glory hog, or one of those guys who'd do anything to get a promotion. The Ray Kowalski she knew was a good guy. Sarcastic, yeah, but a loyal, solid, brave cop all the same. A bit of a hothead, but he'd always kept it under control until lately. Now he was acting crazy, more like someone who wanted to get killed than a guy trying to prove himself on a new job. He'd been doing that ever since his fight with Ben.
That's what started this whole mess, she thought. That had to be the reason Kowalski had transferred to the 29th, and why he'd turned into Arnold Fricking Schwarzenegger once he got there. And that was why Benton was wandering around lately looking like he'd been hit over the head with a really big otter. He'd heard the rumors about Ray's incredible risk taking at the 29th too. Everyone had. It was all over the station, Fraser couldn't help but hear -- he just didn't have a clue what to do about it. And thatwas why her brother went around glaring and snapping at everybody sometimes, because he knew Fraser was unhappy but didn't know why -- because of course Ben would never, ever tell Mr. Testosterone what was really going on.
Not that I blame him, Frannie thought. She could just imagine what Ray's reaction would be, if Ben ever did. You what? You're what? No, you'd better say that again, because I don't think I heard you right. You're WHAT? You're in love with a GUY? WITH Kowalski? What, have you lost your friggin' mind? Only gays do that, Fraser! And you're a friend of mine, so there's no way you can be gay. NO WAY! You got that?
Frannie shook her head, imagining it. Then she sighed to herself. I mean, people are always talkin' about the war between the sexes, but they're all guys! This is ridiculous! But that was what this mess was starting to feel like to her: a war. A weird kind of cold war, where everybody was suspicious of everyone else, or mad at them, but no one really knew why. It had gone way beyond silly now. At this point, everyone involved was only unhappy; but if things didn't change, if nothing broke the stalemate they were all locked into, the situation was going to get ugly.
Someone was going to get badly hurt. She could feel it. She had a sixth sense about this kind of thing. She'd had the same sort of feeling, this sensation of a huge black cloud hovering over them, just before Ray's old girlfriend Irene was killed. She'd tried to warn him to stay away from her, but he hadn't listened. There was no need to tell him to stay away from Kowalski this time, because they hadn't seen each other for months, not since he'd left the 27th. But that hadn't solved anything. Ben was quietly going to pieces worrying about his wild antics at the 29th and missing him, Ray was tearing his hair out over Ben and having nightmares, Serena was worried about Ray -- and Frannie was worried about all of them.
She didn't want to see Ray's relationship with Serena fall apart. She was the best thing that had happened to him since his divorce. And she worried about the bad dreams Ray kept having. Sometimes they woke him yelling, and she'd never seen him like that before, not even in the midst of his worst cases. And she didn't want to see her brother's friendship with Benton ruined either, and this Kowalski thing was straining even that.
She could hardly bear to think about some of the things she'd heard that Ray Kowalski was doing. It was a fair bet that he was probably the unhappiest one in the bunch. She didn't really know what had caused his big fight with Fraser that day, since the Mountie (as usual) wasn't talking. She had her own theory, that it was some kind of lover's quarrel, but even that was guesswork. She didn't really know.
In any case, regardless of the reasons for it, somebody had to fix this, ASAP. And as usual, since all the men involved were far too busy proving they were tough to even talk about it, much less try dealing with it, it seemed like the fixing part was up to her. Men! she sniffed. Big useless piles of muscle! If they weren't so cute we'd all be better off without 'em...
Still... She didn't really like to think about a world without Fraser, or Ray Kowalski, or even her big brother. Pain in the butt though he was sometimes, she loved Ray dearly. She loved all of them. Kowalski too; and she missed him. She missed his spiky hair, and the way he always teased her...
Life at the 27th just hadn't been the same without him. She just wished she knew what to do about that, and about all the fallen dominoes he'd left behind him.
Ray looked at his watch. It was 9:50 p.m. Time to relax and kick back. It was also three nights since Rylan had showed up at his door wanting to get laid. Or to go over cases, or even to have a beer. He just hadn't come back, period. Ray wasn't sure how he felt about that -- or how Pat was feeling either, because they hadn't talked about it. Not once. Ray wasn't sure if his sour mood in the car the morning after had kept Pat from bringing it up, but in any case, he'd just followed his lead and ignored it too. Because he mostly just felt relieved that they weren't talking about it. He didn't want to talk about it, or do it again, either. He just wanted to forget it, like it was a bad dream. He wanted to pretend it had never happened. All the same, a part of him wondered why Rylan hadn't come back. It wasn't that he liked what Pat had done to him. It was just that his place was so damn quiet without him. Too quiet...
Well, he told himself wryly, it's not like ya need Rylan to fix that, do ya? Got a CD player, don'tcha? He padded over to his stereo system in bare feet, and put some music on. Nothing intense, just some soft, dreamy, rhythm-based stuff to help him unwind. He settled back on his couch, put his arms under his head, and listened to Everything.
Time will heal me
Time will save my soul.
Time will heal me,
Time will make me whole.
I used to believe that, he thought darkly. Before I left Frayzh, before everything went to hell...
Suddenly, there was a knock at his door. "Shit," he muttered. He got to his feet, got his gun and padded to one side to answer it. "Yeah? Who's there?"
"Land shark," a masculine voice snickered.
It was Rylan. Ray smiled in spite of himself. What the hell? I could use a laugh, why not let him in? I can always say no if I don't want to.
But when he opened the door, Rylan gave him such a suggestive grin that Ray's heart sped up instantly. He wasn't sure if what he was feeling was fear or excitement; and Rylan didn't give him a chance to find out. He came in fast, shoved the door shut behind him, and then advanced on him, his eyes dark with amusement and desire. "Hey, Ko. Ya put music on and everything," he teased. "Were you expecting me?"
Ray took a step backward. Not sure if he was teasing, or really trying to say the N word, he shut off his stereo. "Not exactly--"
He never got a chance to finish the sentence, because Rylan pulled him close. And it seemed like he already had ideas of his own, because Ray could feel his arousal. "Yer supposed to say yes," he breathed, his arms tightening around Ray possessively. "Yer supposed to say that you want it as much as I do. That you've been thinkin' about it as much as I have."
Ya must've been thinkin' about it a lot, Ray thought wryly, if yer that hard already. But he didn't say that. He just raised an eyebrow. "What if I haven't?"
Rylan grinned. "Then I'll just have to refresh your memory."
Rylan left about an hour later. After he shut the door behind him, Ray locked it automatically, then leaned his forehead against it. Stood there with his skin pressed to the cool wood, his head jumbled. What the hell am I doin'? I just had sex with my partner again -- for the second time in less than a week. If the department ever found out about it... He groaned. He didn't even like to think about that. Hell, there are rules against hetero couples on the same squad having a relationship! If they get found out, it's either an instant transfer or they yank yer badge. But the slightest hint that yer gay, and they won't transfer you, they'll throw you out on yer ass. No apologies. No second chances.
It was against the rules, of course, but it happened. So he knew that was what he was risking. What he and Rylan were both risking. Granted, it wasn't the greatest job in the world -- hell, it wasn't fun at all anymore without Fraser -- but it was all he had left. So why was he messing with it? He dug his hands into the wood, scratched his nails against it, trying to figure it out. First time didn't matter. Told myself it was a one night stand. Didn't mean anything. It was somethin' Rylan wanted. I just went along for the ride. For the hell of it. Freak thang. Wasn't sposed to happen again.
But it just had. Twice now. So it had to mean something. He could see that. And not just to Rylan, either -- to him too. Just like the first time, he could've said no, could've sent Pat away, but he hadn't.
But I still didn't know why. Wasn't like I liked it. He was bruised and aching again. Rylan had held him down this time, pinned his wrists to the floor so hard that they hurt. He'd been all over him, had bitten his nipples and sucked him off like there'd be no tomorrow. And this time, he hadn't been content to let Ray just lie there while he did what he wanted to him. He'd asked Ray to blow him.
And I did it, Ray thought uneasily. Made him wear a rubber, but I did it. Don't even know why. I didn't really want to. Didn't like bein' with him any better than I did the first time. Hell, I didn't even come. But Rylan didn't seem to care. He'd gotten off both times, and that seemed to be all that mattered to him.
Ray's head swam. The more he thought about it, the more messed up it all seemed. It was obvious why Rylan kept coming to see him: he was satisfied, he got off on it. But Ray couldn't figure out what the hell it was doing for him. Why he kept opening his door late at night to a kid who was bigger, stronger, and who played far rougher than he did. Who tried to dominate, rather than please him. It sure as hell isn't the sex, he thought. Hell, we don't even have sex. At least I don't.
So what was it? Some kind of master-slave thing? Was he that sick, that far gone? That desperate?
He didn't know. He was sure of only one thing: whatever was going on between them, Rylan was winning, and he was losing. What, he wasn't exactly sure. Self respect maybe? Or maybe it was worse than that. Maybe every time he let Rylan do him, he was losing a piece of his soul. If that's true, then why the hell do I keep lettin' him do it?
It was a mystery. A dark one that he wasn't sure he wanted to figure out.
But I gotta. It's important. It's my job, and his. It matters. He stood there for a long time, resting his head against the door and wondering what he would do the next time Rylan came knocking at his door. Because he knew now that he would. He'd come back looking for sex again and again, if he didn't do something about it. Because Pat wanted him, really wanted him bad. Ray could feel that. He thought he might even be in love with him, though he'd never said so.
He's not gonna stop, he thought. I'm gonna haveta tell him no. Make him go away. He flattened his hands against the door, pressed his fingers hard against its cool, unyielding smoothness. Am I gonna do that? he wondered. Am I?
He didn't know, and it scared him.
He turned away from the door finally, and moved to his stereo. He always turned to music when he got stirred up inside. If he felt good, he danced to let it out, for the pure joy of it; and if he felt bad, he danced to try and get it back. To find joy in the music and movement, when he couldn't find it anywhere else.
So he stood staring down at his CD player, trying to decide what to play. But though several minutes went by, he couldn't make himself pick anything. All he heard was Rylan's voice, saying, "Ya put music on and everything. Were you expecting me?" The truth was, he hadn't been. Not really. He'd half hoped that Rylan hadn't liked it enough to come back for more. He'd never thought this would happen again, and certainly not with his own partner. He didn't know how to handle it.
Dance for awhile, he told himself. Forget about it. But he stood paralyzed, unable to put on any music, unable to make a decision. Then it hit him, his second shock of the night: he didn't dance anymore. He hadn't for a long time. Not since he'd left Ben. He hadn't wanted to. And that was scary too. That had never happened to him before. Never. No matter how bad things had gotten for him, he'd always loved to dance. Even after Stella left him, he'd waltzed with her shadow, night after night... Holding onto her memory. And it had kept the darkness at bay, had kept him moving so his grief couldn't smother him.
He wasn't dancing now; but he was doing a lot of things he'd never done before. He'd grown a beard, gotten an ear pierced, and begun answering to the name 'Ko' -- all so he could leave the part of himself that had loved Ben behind. He'd tried to tell himself that was a good thing, but now he wasn't so sure. Lately it was beginning to seem like he'd thrown out more of himself than he'd meant to, like he'd thrown out his better half, along with his past with Fraser.
It was like the darkness had caught up to him -- crept into him. He was becoming someone even he didn't recognize. Someone who took crazy chances on the job, for the adrenaline rush it gave him. Someone who kept having sex with a kid ten years younger than he was, who was rougher than hell -- and who was his own partner. Small wonder he couldn't find the beat these days, couldn't lose himself in it anymore, didn't feel connected to the music like he used to. Maybe it's cuz I got nothin' good left inside me to connect with anything anymore.
It was a scary thought. But then he had another, even scarier one. Maybe I've already lost myself.
Too bleak for music, he turned away from his CD player and walked into his kitchen. He didn't even know why. Whaddaya want? he asked himself helplessly. What the hell do you want?
The answer floated up from inside of him instantly. I wanna be with Ben. Wanna make love to him with the lights on. In the dark. In moonlight. Outside in the sun. Every way there is. Then make up new ways. Want him to do things to me nobody's ever done. Wanna lie there naked while he touches me, just touches me. Wanna feel him tell me with his hands what he never said: that he loves me. Wanna hear him say it, too.
But wanting that was hopeless. Ben was a part of Stanley Ray Kowalski's life. His dream -- his lover. He was Ko. Ko didn't dance, and he didn't even have dreams, let alone a lover. Ko fixed himself a drink, and stared into nothingness while he tilted his head back and let the liquor burn down his throat.
"Here's the file you wanted, Ray. The one on--" Frannie stopped in mid-sentence as she realized she was talking to empty air. Her brother wasn't at his desk. She rolled her eyes in frustration. He'd just been bitching at her for not pulling a file he wanted on a suspect in the string of downtown robberies he was working. But now that she'd found it, he'd left his desk! She shook her head. He'd probably ducked into the closet or gone into the can or something, so he could whisper sweet nothings to Serena on his cell phone again, in private.
I swear, you'd think that phone was surgically attached to his ear lately! she thought. Then she smiled to herself. As annoying as Ray's frequent disappearances were lately, it was great to see him so in love again, especially with someone as cool as Serena. Serena knew things about cosmetics that Frannie had never heard of; and she was a great singer, and really sweet too. Frannie was happy that Ray was going to get married again, to someone she really liked. That was the icing on the cake.
But she couldn't help wondering if Ray had told Serena about his nightmares. About what had happened to him while he was away. She suspected that it was bothering him more than he was admitting to anyone.
Then there's the whole thing with Benton, she reflected, her smile disappearing.
As if on cue, Fraser suddenly walked around the corner and stopped beside her. She knew he was probably looking for Ray, but she smiled at him anyway. Not with the teasing, suggestive kind of smile she used to give him, but a friendly one. She'd given up flirting with him now that she'd figured out that he was in love with Kowalski. Dreaming about him had been fine when she'd thought he was available; but Frannie was smart enough to know when something was a lost cause. And if Benton was gay, that was something even she couldn't fight.
But he was also lost -- in more ways than one. So she couldn't give up caring about him. She didn't even want to. He was too beautiful, too smart, too sweet, too utterly adorable to ever get out of her heart. So she'd decided that if she couldn't have him as a husband, she'd just have to be like his sister instead. She figured that was safe enough. He didn't have any sisters or brothers at all, that she knew of. So at least she wouldn't have any competition there!
But as his self-appointed sister, she was worried about him. He didn't look too good these days. He's lost weight, and if he isn't careful, those shadows under his eyes are gonna become permanent, she thought, pitying him. But it wouldn't do to let him see that. "Hi, Frayzh," she said casually. "You looking for Ray?"
"Yes," the Mountie nodded. "As a matter of fact, I am."
Frannie shrugged. "So am I. He was just here, but he disappeared. I think he's off somewhere calling Serena again."
"Ahh," Fraser said. "He calls her a lot, doesn't he?"
Frannie rolled her eyes. "You can say that again!"
"Yes. Well... that's good. It's good to see him happy," he said quietly.
"Yeah, it is," she agreed. "Just don't tell him I said so, okay?"
Fraser tried to smile at her little joke, but the expression quickly flickered out and disappeared. He averted his gaze and stared down at his boots. And something flickered in his blue eyes for an instant -- flickered, then was extinguished so swiftly that anyone else but Frannie would've missed it. But she'd been watching Fraser for years, had made a total study of her Mountie; and she could've sworn that, just for a second, he'd looked a little jealous. Jealous and sad.
And I know why, she thought. Frannie put the case file she'd pulled for her brother down on his desk, and moved closer to him. He was still staring down at his feet. "Benton," she said softly, to call him back from the sad place he'd gone to in his head. But when his blue eyes lifted to hers, they were deliberately blanked of all emotion, and she knew he hadn't meant her to see his pain. That he hadn't wanted anyone to see it. So she wasn't sure what to say. She wanted so much to end the rift between him and Ray Kowalski, but she wasn't sure how. Fraser was such a private person, and so sensitive, that it was hard to know how to bring it up without hurting him. She finally said awkwardly, "I... I just wondered if you'd heard from Ray lately." That seemed safe enough. She didn't say which Ray, but she knew she didn't need to.
Fraser looked away again. But not so fast that she couldn't see the way he set his jaw tightly at her question. "No," he admitted. "No, I haven't. But I'm sure... " He broke off for a moment, as if his voice had failed him. He cleared his throat quickly and went on, "I'm sure he's very busy with his new job, and that he'll call when he can find the time."
If he'd been anyone else, Frannie would've rolled her eyes and snorted "Get real!" But Fraser was trying so hard to sound positive that she didn't have the heart. "Yeah. Right. I'm sure you're right, Frayzh. I'm sure he will," she said instead. But she was lying, and she figured that underneath, Fraser must know it too. After all, Kowalski had been gone for more than three months now -- and knowing Fraser, he'd probably been counting the days since he left! And Ray had had plenty of time, in all those months, to call his best friend. But he hadn't done it because of the fight they'd had. He hadn't called, and Fraser hadn't called him. And neither one was going to, either.
Typical men! she thought, exasperated. They were both being stubborn, though all it was making them was unhappy. Fraser was turning into a scarecrow right in front of her, and she'd heard enough about Kowalski's scary escapades at the 29th to know that he was acting like an idiot too, in his own way. It was becoming crystal clear to her that the two of them were never going to solve their problem on their own. She'd have to help them. She decided to be up front, and sound Fraser out about it.
"Would you like me to give him a call?" she offered softly. "You know, just to find out how he's doing and all?"
Fraser's eyes lifted suddenly, found hers again and held them. She saw surprise in them, and a surge of hope so strong that even the stoic Mountie couldn't suppress it. As if she'd just offered him a chance he'd never even thought of. Fraser was so self-sufficient and so private, she realized that it had probably never occurred to him to ask anyone for help with the Kowalski situation. But he looked grateful for her offer. His mouth opened, and she could've sworn he was going to say, "Yes. Would you do that for me, Francesca? I'd be very grateful."
But then he caught himself. He stiffened, shut his mouth, and pasted his perfect Mountie mask on again. Twitched his lips into a stiff curve that was supposed to be a smile. "No, thank you. I wouldn't want you to go to all that trouble," he said.
Frannie was disappointed. He was perfectly polite, as always, but she could hear the strain in his voice. She knew how hard it had been for him to say that. To look like that, as if he didn't care when his heart was secretly breaking. "Oh, it's no trouble!" she insisted. "I wouldn't mind--"
"Well thank you, but--"
"Really, Frayzh! It'd be easy. I could just--"
"No, Frannie!" Fraser snapped loudly. "I said, NO!"
Frannie blinked at him. She couldn't believe her ears. Not only had he interrupted her, but he'd called her Frannie! Frannie, not Francesca. And he'd raised his voice. He'd almost yelled at her! It shook her. He'd never spoken to her like that before, in the entire time she'd known him. He'd never looked at her with such anger. Not even that night when she'd showed up at his place in that ridiculous leather bustiere...
Frannie looked away. She was trying to help, and instead, she'd made a mess of things. She'd made him angry without meaning to -- and now he'd hurt her. "Okay," she mumbled. "Okay. Guess that was a stupid idea, huh? I can take a hint. Sorry I mentioned it." She edged away from Fraser, meaning to go back to her desk for awhile, where she could turn her back on both Ray and him, and forget her ill-advised attempt to help.
But Fraser stepped in front of her suddenly. "Francesca... "
She looked up at him warily, half expecting another outburst, but his clear blue eyes had softened noticeably. "I'm sorry," he said gently. "I seem to be... somewhat on edge lately. I haven't been... Well, I haven't been sleeping well." He ran the back of a finger across an eyebrow in a familiar little gesture that he always made when he was worried or upset. "I'm sorry I was rude. I didn't mean to suggest that your offer was silly. It was actually very kind. Thank you."
His eyes held hers, and he even smiled a little. A real smile, not the fake one he'd pasted on a few minutes ago; and Frannie's heart swelled. Unhappy as he was, Fraser still cared about her. He'd sensed that he'd hurt her, and instantly apologized. She forgave him just as quickly, worried that he'd confirmed what she'd only guessed, that he wasn't sleeping well. She already knew that he wasn't eating properly either, and it only intensified her desire to help him.
She decided to try telling him the truth. To finally lay her cards on the table, to tell him that she knew what was going on between him and Ray, and that it didn't matter. That she still loved him. So much, in fact, that she wanted to help him get Ray back, if that would make him happy.
"It's okay, Frayzh," she said softly, so no one else would hear. She tried to choose her words carefully, so she wouldn't upset him again. "I... know how you feel about him, and I just... want you to be happy, you know? And Ray too. And you haven't seemed happy lately. Without him, I mean. And when people are in love, they should be happy. Be together. So I just wanted you to know that... if you ever want me to... you know, kind of check up on him for you, to find out how he's doing, or get a message to him, I'd be happy to. Okay?"
Frannie finally faltered to a stop. She'd felt amazingly awkward, trying to say that to Fraser. Guess it wasn't exactly poetry, but at least I got it out. And he must've got what I meant, she told herself. Right? She sneaked a glance up at Fraser to find out.
Fraser stood frozen, his blue eyes wide and focused on her. She suspected that mentioning the L word out loud, especially in connection with him and Ray Kowalski, had shocked him. He blinked once, then twice, the way he always did when he was taking in something utterly unexpected. Then he cricked his neck nervously, and blushed. Oh yeah, she thought, amused. He got it. He knows what I meant.
She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd run in the opposite direction. In fact, it surprised her that he didn't. But once his flush faded a little, he smiled at her, and finally nodded. "Yes. Okay." Then to her surprise, he took her hand gently in his for a second, and rubbed his thumb across the back of her fingers in a little caress. "Thank you kindly, Francesca," he said quietly, holding her gaze. And she knew he wasn't just thanking her for offering to call Ray.
Frannie clung to his hand, lost in his clear blue eyes, in the unexpected sweetness of his gesture. For a second, she felt how wonderful it would be to be close to Fraser, really close to him, the way that Ray Kowalski was. To get more than the politeness he gave everyone, to be the one he gave his heart and soul to. And though she knew Kowalski had left him and that he was unhappy, in that moment, she envied him with all her heart.
Then her brother came striding into the room. He saw Fraser holding her hand -- or rather, he saw her holding Fraser's -- and rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Frannie, Don't you ever give up?" he complained as he walked up to them. "Come on, let go o' Benny! We got work to do."
Frannie expected Fraser to drop her hand and leap away from her like a scalded cat, totally embarrassed at having been caught in an expression of affection. She even started to move away herself. But Fraser surprised her. He squeezed her hand lightly, keeping her next to him. "Actually, I was just thanking your sister for something, Ray," he said calmly. And to her amazement, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it lightly, in a gallant, old-fashioned gesture. No one else could've carried that off, but from Fraser, it was pure magic. "Thank you, Francesca," he said for the second time, smiling over her fingers at their shared secret.
Ray stared at them, struck dumb with amazement. Frannie grinned at him, then turned to Fraser again. "You're very welcome, Benton," she said, in her best dignified tone. "Anytime," she added, trusting that he'd catch her hidden meaning.
And he did. "I'll let you know," he said quietly. Then he finally let go of her hand. She walked away feeling like she was floating. Maybe she hadn't managed to get Benton to fall in love with her, but she wasn't doing too shabby being his sister. Not too shabby at all!
Behind her, she heard Ray say suspiciously, "Hey, you two! Is there somethin' goin' on here? Somethin' I should know about?"
She ignored him. She had no intention of dignifying that with a reply. She just kept smiling as she headed to her desk.
And it seemed like Fraser felt the same, because all he said was, "I don't believe so, Ray."
"This isn't, like, one of those chivalry type situations, is it?" Ray persisted. "Where you can't tell me somethin' I should know because it's against the Code?"
Frannie couldn't see Fraser's expression, but she somehow knew it was a mask of complete innocence. "If it were, how could I tell you?" he replied calmly. "That would violate the Code."
She wondered if Ray got it that Fraser was teasing him. That he did it with a straight face, and that he'd been doing it for years. Probably not, because she heard her brother groan. "Fraser, have I ever told you how much I hate the Code?"
"Many times, Ray."
Frannie grinned to herself as she headed back to her desk. She was so happy she was practically glowing. Not only had Benton apologized for getting mad at her, but he'd actually kissed her hand! That was beyond cool, she thought, thrilled by his gesture. Nobody ever did that to me before! It was just so perfect that Ben had been the first -- and in front of Ray, too! This sister stuff was proving to be a lot more fun than she'd ever thought it would be. She almost giggled out loud at the memory of her big brother standing there staring at her and Benton with his mouth hanging open.
But when she sank back down into her chair, she suddenly remembered Kowalski. The guy who'd caused their unprecedented argument. The one Ben really wanted to make love to. And she felt a little guilty. A guy as sweet, as wonderful as Fraser, deserved to be happy. Even if it wasn't with her. And right now, he was so unhappy that he wasn't even eating right, and he'd admitted that he wasn't sleeping either. It seemed he needed Kowalski to be happy, and it seemed like Ray needed him too, to keep from going crazy. So -- she'd have to get moving. Get off her butt and do something, before it was too late. Fraser hadn't okayed her calling Ray for him, though, so she'd have to think of something else. She pursed her lips as she filed one of her nails. What I need is a plan.
What the hell is goin' on with Fraser? Irritated and unable to sleep, Ray Vecchio turned over in bed and pounded his pillow. What was all that "Any time", and "I'll let you know" stuff between him and Frannie today, anyway?
If there was one thing he hated, it was sensing that Frannie was in on something that he wasn't; and he felt that now, with a vengeance. Benny had kissed her hand, for Crissakes! Benny, who usually blushed crimson if Frannie even got close enough to lay a hand on him, had kissed her hand like Prince Charming, right out in public. Then they'd murmured back and forth in some kind of code.
Something was going on, big time. Fraser had told Frannie something, something important, and he hadn't told him. It pissed him off.
It wouldn't have been so bad, if he hadn't known that Fraser was hiding something from him anyway. But that'd been obvious for weeks. Benny was busy outwardly being happy for him, but privately wasting away, like one of those hopeless chicks in those romance novels Frannie was always reading.
He snorted in disgust. "Sword of Desire", my ass! What the hell was Fraser doing, confiding secrets to someone who read books like that? To Frannie, of all people? Now, if they were planning some surprise in connection with his wedding, that would be okay. But he didn't think it was that. He had the uneasy feeling he might've told her his big, dark secret. Told Frannie what the hell had been bothering him lately.
If I ever find out you did, look out, Fraser! he thought resentfully. Because he'd asked him a hundred times, no, a thousand, what the hell was the matter with him. But would Fraser tell HIM? No. He just kept saying, "I'm fine, Ray. Thank you kindly for asking," until he wanted to strangle him. That had been going on since Kowalski left.
Kowalski... He turned over onto his back, and closed his eyes. Tried to blot out the sudden, vivid image of the other Ray that rose to mind: that spiky blonde head, nearly shaved in back, atop a slender, wiry body. But it didn't work. He could still see him, standing in front of Welsh that day, taut with rage from his fight with Benny. He remembered how his short-cropped hair and slimness had given him an air of vulnerability beneath his toughness; and how he'd played on that. Tested the theory by calling him "Stanley", then watched with a smile as his tight shoulders got even tighter. He was sure Kowalski would've loved to have smacked him for that. Underneath that stand-up hair and attitude, the guy was sensitive. Sensitive, like Benny.
In an odd way, knowing that made him feel better. It proved that he wasn't anything like Jimmy Maxwell.
The rational part of him knew that anyway. Hell, everybody he'd talked to about Kowalski liked him, from Benny and Welsh right on down to Frannie, his Ma and the kids. His family wouldn't have liked him if he wasn't a good guy, and Fraser and Welsh wouldn't have respected him if he wasn't a good cop. His record was proof enough of that: three commendations for bravery under fire. And if all that hadn't been enough to convince him that Kowalski had balls, the rumors floating around about his escapades at the 29th would have. Kowalski was kicking ass as a Narc.
So though he never would've admitted it to his face, he didn't think badly of the other Ray anymore.
He'd even started to feel a bit guilty about him. He twisted a little under his covers, uneasy with the knowledge that he was partly responsible for breaking up Benny's friendship with him. Only partly, because they'd also had some kind of fight, but still... He could've tried to help, could've tried to talk Kowalski into staying for Benny's sake, could've tried to be friendly to him. Instead, he'd called him "Stanley." Given him that mocking smile he'd learned to cut people with in the Family. Then privately exulted when he'd transferred out, because he didn't want him around, reminding him of his past.
But Fraser's resulting funk was starting to scare him. He knew it had something to do with Kowalski, because it had started just after they had their big blowout that day. And he knew they hadn't spoken to each other since, which meant that, whatever their disagreement had been, it was serious. But he had no clue about the specifics.
What did Kowalski say to him? he wondered. What'd he do?
He'd asked around about it, but nobody knew. Though everyone had heard Kowalski screaming at poor Benny to get away from him, and seen him use his hat for a football, no one had a clue what their feud was about. One detective had thought he'd heard Benny ask Kowalski if he was mad at him for being late, but Ray figured he must've gotten that wrong. Benny was never late, he was almost anally punctual. And he didn't peg Kowalski as a guy who'd give a flying fuck about punctuality anyway, let alone get mad enough about it to shove Fraser around. Everyone he'd talked to had said that he and Kowalski were good buddies. Tight. Practically joined at the hip -- until that day, anyway.
The whole thing made no sense. Benny, Kowalski, their fight, the Stetson, Maxwell... They all whirled around in his brain, pieces of a puzzle he had no answer to. He fell asleep wondering about them. And in his sleep, several hours later, he dreamed.
Dreamed of how he'd once wakened, in the pitch darkness of his Arizona mansion, to terror. To the harsh bite of a wire being wrapped around his neck. To Jimmy Maxwell's hateful breath in his ear. "You wanna marry her, don't you?" Jimmy hissed.
The wire tightened ominously, cutting off his breath, and his heart kicked into overdrive. He was in bed, at home. He should've been safe. How the hell had Maxwell gotten past his guards? Where the hell was Nero? How had Maxwell gotten into his bedroom without him hearing it? And how had he guessed how he felt about Serena, when he hadn't even asked her yet?
Then he forced those thoughts away. Because impossible though it should've been, Maxwell was there. Sitting beside him on his bed. Death personified. So he had no time to worry about Nero, or his guards, or anything but saving his own neck.
"Get this thing off of me, and get outta this bed, or I will kill you, you prick. Personally," he said. Trying to sound calm, even cold, despite the fact that his voice was hoarse from being choked, and he could hardly breathe. He knew he only had one choice, one chance with Maxwell: brazen it out. Balls of steel. If Maxwell sensed a hint of weakness, of fear, he'd kill him. He'd been wanting to do that for some time now, anyway.
"Not tonight, Armie," Jimmy practically cooed, tightening the garotte. "You so much as twitch, and I'll tighten this until you're wearing a second smile."
Ray moved anyway. The wire was cold agony at his throat, cutting into his skin. He knew it was only a matter of time before Maxwell made good on his threat and killed him with it, no matter what he said. And he was in no mood to draw the game out. Especially since Maxwell had mentioned Serena. He had to keep her out of this. So he exploded. Rolled towards Maxwell to ease the strain on his throat, and struck out hard, with arms, legs, everything he had.
For a second, he almost strangled as the wire bit deeply, viciously into his throat.
Then his strike hit home. It knocked Maxwell off the bed, and the horrible pressure on his throat disappeared. He tore the wire off, coughing. But before he could get up, Maxwell was on him again. Striking out blindly in the darkness, he hit Ray in the face with something hard and cold. So hard that Ray heard a bone crack with the impact. He grunted with the blinding pain, and Maxwell took advantage of his recoil to grab his arm, and drag him out of bed onto the floor.
He pressed a gun barrel into his forehead. A .357 Magnum, Ray guessed, from the size of it. "Now tell me," he panted. "Is she good in bed?"
Ray's heart squeezed inside of him. He hated Maxwell so much in that instant that if looks could kill, his eyes would've dropped him dead on his bedroom floor. "Go fuck yourself," he said clearly, knowing that Maxwell would kill him for it. His heart pounded in what he knew was his last moment on earth. Goodby, Serena, I love you... It was all he could think, how much he wanted her, and how he would never see her again. Serena! He tried to scream her name.
"SERENA!"
Suddenly, there was a bright light in his eyes, and Frannie was shaking him. "Ray, Ray! Wake up!"
He gasped, disoriented. "What -- Frannie, what the hell?" He'd been with Maxwell -- where was he? He blinked, confused to find himself in his old bedroom again, in his parents' house. "How'd I--" get here, he was going to say, then he swallowed the words as memory rushed back. He was home now, he wasn't in Arizona anymore. He was home. He was safe.
As he sat up in bed, his sister straightened up. She'd been leaning over him in her pajamas, and she looked worried. Almost frightened. What the hell is she doin' in my bedroom?
"You were yelling for Serena. You must've been having another nightmare, Ray," Frannie said, her voice soft.
But her concern made him defensive. "Whaddaya mean, another one?" He didn't like to think anyone else knew how often he had dreams like this. He hadn't even told Serena.
Frannie lifted an eyebrow in a look he knew very well. "Ray, I hear you thrashin' around in here all the time!"
He glared at her. "Does Ma know?" he blurted, then winced, realizing how adolescent that sounded.
Frannie pursed her lips. "No, but--"
"Good. And you're not gonna tell her, are ya. Or Serena."
It was a statement, not a question, and Frannie heard the implied threat in it. But it didn't faze her. She just moved back a little, out of arm's reach, and grinned at him. "I dunno. What's it worth to you, Ray?"
He realized with a sinking heart that she'd known for awhile, and hadn't said anything; and that she hadn't been going to, either, until he'd opened his big mouth. Dammit! He rolled his eyes. "Whaddaya want?" he asked. It was useless to argue with her, he'd learned that long ago. Frannie could've given the Iguanas lessons in stubbornness. So he lay back wearily anticipating having to write a check for a new pair of earrings, or a dress she had to have -- whatever.
But she surprised him. "Invite Benny over for dinner," she said.
He blinked. This was something new; bribing Frannie usually always cost money. Then again, he supposed it made perfect sense. Because if there was one thing she wanted more than money, clothes and jewelry, it was the Mountie. In fact, most of his bribe money, since Fraser had come along, had gone towards buying clothes and jewelry Frannie had hoped would help her bag him. So he wondered why Frannie hadn't thought of this before. And any mention of Fraser was another chance to tease her, which he didn't want to waste. So he widened his eyes in fake astonishment. "That's it? Just have Benny over for dinner?" he asked skeptically.
She stiffened up predictably. "Yeah, that's it."
He frowned, looking confused. "Don't you need a new dress for the occasion? Perfume? Something to aid in his entrapment?"
Frannie narrowed her eyes at him. "It isn't for me, Ray! It's for him!" she hissed, in her best 'you're too stupid to live' tone.
"What? You want me to buy a dress for Benny?" he blurted, beginning to enjoy this. "Are you nuts?"
"No, I want you to invite him! Just ask him, Ray, that's all!"
"Why?" he persisted, laughing to himself. "Ya think Benny's gonna die if he doesn't get pasta fazoule?"
She set her jaw, and put her hands on her hips. "Ray!"
"Okay, okay! I'll ask him. Satisfied?"
She smiled. "For now."
Finally, he gave up the game and looked at her, hard. Searched her eyes, all joking aside. "Frannie, did Benny tell you what's bugging him?"
She looked away. Down at her toes, like she had that time he'd caught her kissing Tommy Parker in the basement when she was nine. "No. No, he didn't. Why would he tell me?" she mumbled.
He grimaced, his worst suspicions confirmed. She was lying. She knew, all right. Fraser had told her. Jangling bracelets, chewing gum and "Sword of Desire" notwithstanding. He sighed. It made no sense. But then, nothing about this thing made sense. "But if you knew, you'd tell me, right?" he asked her quietly, hiding his exasperation. "Cuz you know it's important. Cuz you know that he's really upset. Capiche?"
She raised her eyes to his at that. Slowly, reluctantly. "Capiche," she said, just as quietly. "But I can't tell you, Ray."
Not "I don't know" this time. At least she was honest enough to admit it. But it only tightened the sense of apprehension in his gut. What the HELL was going on here? What could Fraser possibly have told her? And why her, instead of him? Whatever it was, it had to be bad, for Frannie to be so worried about him that she wanted him over for dinner for his sake, not for hers -- and for her to feel she couldn't tell him. Even here in his bedroom late at night, with no one else around. Just them together, like it always was when they were kids. No barriers between them. It had to be really bad, for Frannie not to be able to tell him now.
Frannie wrapped her arms around herself, shivering a little, and he suddenly realized that she was standing there in bare feet, while he was snug under his covers. And that it was cold. She'd run into his room in bare feet, without even taking time to throw on her robe, because she'd heard him having a nightmare. And she'd lingered to tease him about a bribe not just because she was worried about Fraser. His lips curved in a little smile.
"Go to bed, Frannie," he said softly. "It's late, and I'm okay."
It was her turn to search his eyes then.
"And I'll have Benny over. I promise. I'm -- worried about him, too," he said at last.
She came to him then. Put her arms around his neck, leaned over and hugged him wordlessly, smiling.
"Okay, okay!" he pretended to complain. "Geez, don't get all smarmy on me." But he hugged her back anyway. His beautiful, wacky Frannie, who'd charged in barefoot to save him from his demons. How could he help it?
She let him go then, and turned and headed for the door. But then she surprised him one more time. She turned and gave him a troubled look. "Ray, these dreams... you've been having them a lot. Don't you think you should--"
He turned away. What was she going to say? That he should 'talk to someone'? See a shrink? It turned him cold, even knowing that she knew about them. Jesus, what might he have said in his sleep? "It's nothing," he lied. "Pre-wedding jitters, that's all. Good NIGHT, Frannie," he said, making his voice as cold as he could.
He heard her sigh, but thank God, she didn't push it. She left quietly, closing his door behind her without another word.
Ray swallowed, vastly relieved. He was getting better, he really was. He didn't have the dreams so much anymore, and he was happy with Serena. So happy... If he could just figure out this thing with Benny, then everything would be okay.
He closed his eyes tightly, wanting to believe that. Needing to.
Ty Donen stood watching as the two cops left his place. Called themselves Detectives, but that was a just a fancy word for Narcs. Said they'd just come by 'to ask him a few questions', but he knew what that meant too. It was cop speak for "You're Under Suspicion, But We Don't Have Enough to Bust Your Balls With. Yet."
Donen wasn't happy. They couldn't have showed up at a worse time. He'd just made a deal with a local businessman with a habit. The terms of the deal were, the businessman got a heavy discount on prime blow, in return for supplying him with the strychnine Donen needed to cut the low grade stuff he sold on the street. A little extra 'kick' for the junkies, major extra green for him. It was a good deal that was going to ease his money worries, and Donen had no intention of letting two hotshot cops mess it up for him.
He hated cops anyway, and these two were worst than most. Young, good looking, cocky -- and totally disrespectful. It'd been all he could do, even with witnesses around, not to shoot the blonde one, that Kowalski prick, right where he stood. Cop had an Attitude, big time. Coming into his restaurant, trying to hassle him in front of his customers...
Worse yet, he'd figured out Donen's deal. That he was the one responsible for distributing the altered coke that several junkies had OD'd on lately. Or at least he had his suspicions; and that was bad enough. Donen decided he was going to make the prick pay for his insolence, and his cleverness too. Donen signaled to Harry Styles, his right-hand man, and they walked into his office at the rear of the restaurant. "I don't like those two," he said.
Styles, who had seen the cops 'interviewing him' earlier, shrugged his broad shoulders. "They don't know nothing, boss. They're just fishin', or they'd've been here with a warrant."
"I know that!" Donen snapped. "But I still don't like it. I want to you to dog them for a few days. See where they go, who they talk to -- but don't let them see you. Find out if they're visiting other dealers, and when, and let me know."
Styles' car was illegally equipped with a stolen police scanner, so he could listen in on the local cop's radio calls, and he was extremely good at tailing people without being seen. Still, he frowned a little at Donen's order, his long, skinny face wrinkling. "How's that gonna help us, Mr. Donen?"
Donen just smiled, his blue eyes cold in his round face. "Just do it, Harry. I'll worry about that."
Styles shrugged. "You're the boss," he said. Then he turned and headed for his car without another word.
Donen watched him go. He already had his plan for the two nosy cops all worked out. He was going to call in some out-of-town talent, a couple of hoods he didn't normally use. And as soon as Styles informed him that the detectives were visiting one of his rivals, he'd send his hired muscle to watch the guy's place. When the two cops came out after their 'interview', he'd have his men grab them, take them out somewhere close by and work them over real good, maybe with baseball bats. The blonde one first, and worst. He wanted him hurt bad. He'd wouldn't have his boys mess up his partner too badly, though. He wanted him to see the whole thing, and be in good enough shape to understand the warning they'd both been given: to forget about finding out who was dealing the blow with a strychnine chaser.
And just in case the cops weren't smart enough to back off after that, just to cover his ass, he'd stack the deck a little more. The timing and location of the beatings, plus a few hints dropped by his out-of-town help, would make those two stupid cops think they'd been beaten up on the orders of whichever one of Donen's rivals they'd just finished interviewing at the time, rather than him. Plus, as soon as the job was done, he'd send the two men he'd hired back out of state so they couldn't be traced. And without their actual attackers to grill, the cops would be all over the ass of whichever unlucky dealer Donen's men pointed the finger at. By the same token, that unlucky bastard wouldn't be able to prove that he hadn't set up the hit. So either way -- whether the cops let it go like he wanted, or they jumped on it and barked up the wrong tree -- he'd get his revenge on those two assholes, and the focus of the investigation turned away from him as well.
Donen grinned. It was a damn good plan. It would divert suspicion from his current operation and foul up some other dealer's at the same time, which was good for his business; and it would pay that skinny asshole Kowalski back for his mouth, too. A triple play. The only people it was going to be very, very bad for were those two cops.
A few days later, Frannie gripped her bottle of wine and smoothed her new sky blue skirt nervously one evening as she waited for Ray Kowalski to answer his door. She'd put on a white silk blouse and blue pumps before coming over, and taken extra time with her make-up, wanting to look her best. But she hadn't dared to call and let him know she was coming, for fear he'd refuse to see her. But no matter how angry he was at her brother, she couldn't believe he would shut the door in her face if she turned up unexpectedly... So here she was.
It wasn't much of a plan, but it was all she could think of.
She knew he must be home, because rock music was blaring so loudly inside that she could hear it through the door. "Welllll...Take me back down where cool water flows y'all," John Fogerty wailed. She smiled a little as he pressed his doorbell. I never knew Ray was a Creedence fan, she thought. As the music thumped on, she hit his doorbell again, just in case he hadn't heard her the first time. She pasted on a determined smile as she waited, but she wasn't really sure what her reception would be. No one in her family had heard much from Kowalski since her brother got back. Not even her mother, who was his favorite. He'd called her a few times, but he'd stopped coming by their house. And while the reasons for that were obvious to Frannie, if not to everyone else, she still wished things were different.
Frannie held her breath as the music played on. "Well if you get lost," Fogerty sang, "Just come on home to Green River." The lyrics seemed so on target that she blinked. Wow, she thought, that's almost like a sign or something! I mean, I came here to bring Ray back into the family, because he's been lost ever since he left Fraser, and--
"Who's there?" Ray's voice cut through her reverie suddenly, though the door hadn't opened.
Frannie frowned a little. Weird. Why doesn't he just open his door? When did he get so suspicious?
"A friend," she called back, hoping he'd recognize her voice. It seemed he did, because in a few seconds, the music stopped, and she heard the sound of locks being turned. The door swung open, and there he was.
"Hi, Ray!" she said in her best cheerful voice. "How ya doin'?"
He blinked at her, looking surprised, and she stared back at him. He's changed, she thought with a pang. He was still dressed casually, in a tight, black long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans, and his hair was still defiantly spiky, but he'd grown a mustache and beard too, a close-cropped blonde square that came down on both sides of his mouth, framing his jaw. He sported an earring now too, a small gold ring in his right ear. But the biggest change was in his eyes. They looked sad. Wary, tired and much colder than she remembered.
The overall effect was disturbing. He looked handsome, but rougher somehow, tougher and wilder than the Ray she'd known. But sad too, as if his new style hadn't made him happy. Almost as if nothing could... And she suspected that she knew why.
"Frannie," he said at last. "What're you doin' here?"
Not exactly a 'Hey! Good to see you,' but at least he didn't slam the door in my face, she thought wryly. It'll do.
"Well, I could lie and say I was in the neighborhood," she said, "but since you're a detective, you'd see right through that. The truth is, I wanted to stop by and see you. It's been awhile, Ray."
He blinked at her, but didn't answer.
She felt really awkward. "You've got a beard now, huh?" she said. "It looks good."
"Thanks." He smiled briefly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Ya know, Frannie, I... was just on my way out, so--"
She stiffened a little. He was lying, and she knew it. He was trying to get rid of her! But she wasn't going to let him. This was too important. She took a step closer to him. "Oh, what -- you've got a hot date with Cindy Crawford or something?" she protested. "So hot that you can't spare ten minutes to talk to an old friend who was nice enough to bring you a bottle of wine?"
She held the bottle up where he couldn't miss it, a gesture as deliberate as her use of the words 'old friend'. Ray dropped his eyes, looking a little embarrassed. When he glanced back up at her, his face had softened slightly. "It's not that, I just... wasn't expectin' company," he mumbled. "The place is a bit of a mess."
"Oh, please!" she waved a hand. "You haven't seen messy until you've seen a room after Tony and Maria's kids get through with it. Nothing fazes me anymore," she smiled, to reassure him.
He scratched his head. "I just didn't know you were comin'," he muttered again.
But somehow, she sensed that he was wavering. "I know. You just got lucky," she smiled mischievously. "I had a whim. Decided to come over and rattle your cage a little. Now, are you gonna let me in or not, Stanley?" she teased, knowing he hated being called that. "'Cuz this bottle's gettin' heavy, ya know?"
He finally gave in. Reached out and took the bottle from her hands, and opened the door. "Sorry. Come on in, Frannie."
She smiled. "That's more like it." And as she passed him, she obeyed a sudden impulse and reached up and kissed his cheek gently. "Good to see you, Ray," she said, meaning it.
He smiled down at her at that; really smiled, with his eyes too. "Aww, you just miss torturin' me," he teased, but she knew he was really saying he'd missed her too. And for just a second, she saw the Ray Kowalski she'd known peeking through, and she was glad she'd come.
Ray got two wine glasses out of a cupboard, then got out a cork remover and applied it to the bottle. As he worked the cork out, Frannie studied him covertly. His slender, wiry hands made short work of it, moving with smooth efficiency. She wondered involuntarily how many women he'd opened wine bottles for -- and how many men.
It still felt a bit weird to her, knowing that Ray was in love with Fraser. That Fraser was in love with him, instead of her. But once she'd got over the initial shock, she'd resigned herself to it. Because she loved Ben, really loved him, and Ray too; though not in the same way, of course. Ben was like her older brother, strong and dependable; Ray like a younger one, needy, pesky and smart-mouthed, but still adorable. But the point was, when you really love people, you want them to be happy. Besides -- at least with them, I know I'll never have to watch some other woman standing beside Ben in a wedding dress! she laughed to herself.
Ray popped the cork, then shot her a sideways glance. "What? Is it the beard, or the earring? What? What're you smilin' about?"
She blushed a little, embarrassed that he'd caught her staring. She hated that about cops, the good ones anyway -- they were so observant, they noticed everything you did. Ben and Ray were like that, too. Too bad they're all so clueless when it comes to emotions!
"I just wasn't sure you knew how to do that," she teased, pointing to the cork he'd just popped. "I was afraid I might have to step in and show you how, before you broke the bottle."
Ray snorted as he started to pour. "The day I need you to help me with things is the day they can take me off to the Funny Farm, Frannie."
She just grinned, loving the way he'd slipped back into their old routine of affectionate insults. "Well, it would be the perfect place for you. I'm surprised the men in the little white suits haven't come to get you yet."
"Been callin' em again, have ya?" he grinned back as he handed her the glass he'd poured.
"Only ten or twenty times a day," she teased as she took it. Ray's smile put her at ease, made her think that maybe this little rescue mission of hers would turn out okay after all. Remembering that her visit had an ulterior motive, she decided to jump right in, while he was in a good mood. She sipped at her glass of Chianti, then asked, "How've you been doing, Ray? Have you talked to anybody from the 27th lately? Or Fraser maybe?"
She'd dropped his name to test Ray's reaction -- and it was instantaneous. He stiffened like she'd hit him, frozen in the act of lifting his glass to his lips. He gave her a dark look, as if he knew exactly why she'd mentioned Fraser -- and didn't like it. "No," he said shortly. "How's Vecchio?"
Frannie winced inwardly. Maybe bringing Ben up first thing had been a mistake. Sure, Ray's reaction had told her what she wanted to know -- that his feelings for Ben were still as strong as ever -- but she'd also pissed him off. He'd asked about Ray to change the subject, not because he really cared. In fact, there was no mistaking the coldness in his voice when he mentioned her brother. It's like he hates him, she thought with a little shiver. Really hates him.
She could've come back with a smart remark, but she didn't. "Ray's fine," was all she said. She didn't want to make him so mad that he'd throw her out or something. The whole purpose of her visit was to get him talking.
Ray nodded. "Good. I hear he's gettin' married," he said in that same cold tone.
"Yeah," she answered. "At St. Mary's, downtown."
"Hmm," Ray shrugged. "Sounds exciting."
Frannie bit her lip. If anyone else had mentioned her brother's coming wedding that way, she'd have been angry -- but she understood Ray's feelings, probably better than anyone else could've. She'd chased Ben herself for years, suffered untold agonies of jealousy every time that bitchy boss of his gave him those hot little looks... It was only after she'd realized that Ben was in love with Kowalski that she'd finally given up all hope of snaring him herself. So she knew how Ray must feel: like her brother had gotten everything. His job, a new wife, and Ben as his partner too. The whole shooting match. While he was left out in the cold.
Not that that view was very logical. After all, her brother wouldn't have had Fraser all to himself if Ray hadn't left them! He was partly responsible for his own unhappiness, because he'd walked out without even trying to work things out with Fraser again. She wondered if he regretted it now; and she wished he could see the consequences. Because there were some things he didn't know.
Benton's so unhappy he looks like a ghost, he's lost weight, and he's not sleeping much... And Ray's mad because he won't tell him what's wrong, and he's having nightmares about his undercover work. I don't think Serena knows about that, but she knows something's wrong with Benny, and that Ray's worried about him, so she's worrying about Ray -- and I'm caught in the middle of all of it!
Frannie took another sip of wine, trying to figure out what to say. In her family, disagreements were settled by everyone screeching at everyone else until they all ran out of breath, then everything was forgiven and forgotten. But Kowalski was a different story. He had a mouth on him all right, but he was kind of like Ben in that he hardly ever talked about his feelings. Even when he'd shoved Ben in the squadroom that day, he hadn't said exactly what he was mad about. Everyone had tried to figure it out, but no one could. Nobody knew exactly what they'd been fighting about. And Fraser wouldn't talk about it, either. She was going to have to try to worm it out of Ray, but she wasn't sure how. She wasn't sure if he'd trust her enough to open up about it.
"Yeah, Ray's getting married," she answered him finally. "The wedding's only a few weeks away now. You should come over for dinner sometime," she said hopefully. "I know Ma would love to see you, and you could meet Serena, Ray's fiancé. She's terrific, she's made Ray really happy--"
Stan's face tightened, and he swung away from her. "I don't think so, Frannie," he said in a low voice. He strode away into his living room and flopped down on the couch, his eyes distant. "You can say hi to Sabrina for me, okay?"
"Serena," she corrected automatically.
Ray shrugged. "Whatever."
Frannie grimaced. Without meaning to, she'd hurt him again. She'd meant to be friendly, to try to let him know that he was still one of the family, to tell him that they missed him. But from the look on his face, he hadn't taken it that way. He looked like he thought she was rubbing his nose in her brother's happiness when he was clearly unhappy himself.
She sipped at her wine uneasily. This was turning out to be harder than she'd thought it would be. She wasn't used to worrying about everything she said -- but Ray seemed hypersensitive on the subject of her brother and Benny, which made this a little like walking through a minefield, where her every word might blow up in her face.
Okay, let's try somethin' else, she thought. She'd ask him how things were going in his life, talk about safe things for a while. Then, maybe after he'd had a couple of glasses of wine, he'd relax a bit and she could ease him into talking about Benton. Maybe...
She followed him into the living room and plunked down beside him on the couch with as cheerful a smile as she could manage. "So tell me, Ray. How's life at the 29th? You arrested anyone interesting lately?"
Ray actually smiled back for a second, as if he was grateful she'd changed the subject. "Ya mean Mel Gibson or Brad Pitt?" he teased. "Nawww... "
Frannie elbowed him gently. "No, come on, tell me! How are things at your new District?"
He shrugged. "They're okay. I'm workin' Narcotics now. I did that before, ya know? So I'm used to it. Bustin' junkies, tracin' dealers and suppliers. Same old same old," he smiled wryly.
Frannie couldn't believe it. He made his new job sound like a walk in the park. Like business as usual. No mention of the dangerous things he'd done lately, the crazy chances he was taking going after the city's most dangerous drug dealers... Nothing! Either he was hiding the truth because he didn't want to worry her, or else he really didn't think what he was doing was that dangerous. Either way, she didn't like it.
"Got a new partner now, though."
"Oh?" she prompted. "Who's that?" She didn't want to tell him she already knew all about Rylan, that she'd kept tabs on Ray's doings at the 29th through phone calls to another Civilian Aide named Julie who she'd made friends with there. She didn't want Ray to know how worried she'd been about him.
"Name's Rylan," Ray explained. "Patrick Rylan. How's that for an Irish name? He's a kid really. 25, only been a cop for a few years. His old man was a cop too... "
Ray rattled on about his new partner until Frannie wanted to scream -- because again, he wasn't telling her the truth. He said that Rylan was really smart, but he didn't say a word about his reputation for roughness, or about the even darker stuff she'd heard, that Rylan was bisexual and that he liked to play rough in bed, too. Of course, maybe that was just a rumor -- and even if it wasn't, he wasn't the kind of guy who'd tell her something like that about his own partner. Ray had his faults, but she knew being disloyal wasn't one of them. Still, she got the distinct feeling that he was making him sound better than he really was, for her benefit. So she'd think things were all rosy at the 29th, instead of screwed up like she knew they were.
She listened to him in silence for awhile, wondering how she was going to get past all this crap and get to the truth. Ray had never talked much about his feelings, and she'd already gotten a glimpse of how touchy he was on the subject of Fraser. But that was who she really needed to talk to him about. Their relationship was at the heart of this whole mess, and getting them back together seemed like the only way to fix it. Sitting here listening to Ray lying about his new life wasn't going to help things at all.
Frannie decided to take a risk and tell him the truth. "Ray, could we talk about something else for a minute?" she interrupted.
He shrugged. "Yeah, sure. What is it?"
"I wanted to tell you that I know," she blurted. "About you and Fraser, I mean." She felt really awkward. She'd meant to say that she knew they were in love, but somehow, sitting so close to this new, bearded Ray who wore an earring and wasn't telling her the truth, she couldn't. He seemed a bit like a stranger, and she was too embarrassed to say those words to him. "How you -- feel about each other," she said instead.
That got to him. Even though she hadn't said the L word, she could tell that he knew exactly what she meant. He went very still for a second, some unknown emotion flashing in his blue eyes. But he recovered almost instantly, an indifferent shrug replacing the heat in his eyes. "So what? That's old news. We had a fight, so we're not partners anymore. Everybody knows that."
Frannie knew he was just pretending to misunderstand her. He was playing it cool. Lying again -- and it made her mad. Did he think this was easy for her? She'd come here trying to help him, and all he'd done was lie to her. Okay then -- if he needed her to spell it out for him, she would. With a capital L. She took a deep breath, gathered her courage, then said it. "No! I mean I know you love him, Ray. That you're in love with Benny."
Ray froze again, his eyes locking with hers. And this time, there was no mistaking the emotion in his eyes. They were crackling with anger, and his mouth tightened into a thin line. But Frannie wasn't sorry she'd said it, all the same. She was actually kind of relieved that the big bad secret that had been hanging over all their heads and causing so much trouble was finally out in the open. Someone had to say it, she thought defiantly, and it might as well be me.
Ray didn't say anything for a long moment. He just sat there staring at her, his face set like stone. Then he got to his feet. "Yer nuts, Frannie," he growled. "Go home, okay?" He turned away and strode off down the hall, like he didn't even want to be in the same room with her anymore.
Frannie's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected that. She'd known that he'd probably hit the roof when she spilled the beans about him and Ben, but she hadn't thought he'd be so furious that he'd walk out on her. Still, beneath his apparent anger, she had a feeling he was more scared than anything. Scared of what she'd think of him now, scared of what she might say next. So she went after him.
"Ray, wait! Please don't go. I need to talk to you about this."
He swung around again and glared at her. "Izzat why you came here, Frannie? To try to tell me I'm gay? Huh? 'Cuz of all the dumb things you've ever said, and there've been lots, that is by far the DUMBEST!" He was really angry now, a vein throbbing in his temple as he yelled at her.
But Frannie had been dealing with large, angry males since she was a little girl, so his insult didn't deter her one bit. "Is it, Ray? Then why did you have that big fight with Fraser? Huh? Tell me that! Why'd you transfer out to the 29th all of a sudden?"
He rolled his eyes. "It's got nothin' to do with that. I had to leave!" he growled. "I was only fillin' in for your brother in the first place! Once he came back, my job there was over! You know that."
Frannie narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. That was only half an answer; he hadn't answered her first (and most important) question, about why he'd fought with Fraser. We'll come back to that, she promised herself. "That's an excuse, Ray, and you know it! You didn't have to transfer out, you big hairball! You could've stayed at the 27th, and worked with Ray and Fraser. Lt. Welsh told me that he offered you a job, but you didn't want it. So why'd you yell at Fraser like that? Why'd you kick his hat? Why'd you leave? Huh? Tell me why."
"Because! I--" He stopped suddenly, biting back what he'd meant to say. His mouth worked, and for a second, he looked unhappy and scared.
So she said it for him, voiced the words he couldn't say. "Because you love Benton."
His jaw tightened. "No! That ain't it."
But she knew he was lying. "Yes it is! I know you do, Ray. Every time I mention his name, you get that look in your eyes--"
"What're you talkin' about? What look?" he scoffed.
But she knew she'd gotten to him. He was touchy, on the defensive. Frannie took a deep breath. "The same look that I had for years," she said.
That took Ray by surprise. He looked away, down at his boots for a minute. "Frannie--"
She drew a little closer to him, took a deep breath and took another risk. She reached up and touched his cheek very gently, praying he wouldn't pull away. "Come on, Ray," she said softly. "Don't you think I know how it feels? I'm not making fun of you, or trying to hurt you. I'm trying to tell you that I understand."
He closed his eyes at that. Closed them tight, and swallowed hard -- but he didn't push her away. She felt the muscle in his cheek tighten as he set his jaw, but he didn't yell at her. He just swallowed hard, like his emotions were choking him. And when he finally opened them to look at her again, his blue eyes were lonely and vulnerable. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I guess maybe you do."
He'd finally let down his defenses, was letting her see inside him as he never had before. He looked as if he was on the edge of tears. "Oh, Ray," she breathed, her heart going out to him. She stepped even closer to him, put her other hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you..."
"I know." To her surprise, he reached out to her. Laid his hand over the fingers cupping his cheek. "I know," he repeated quietly. He took her other hand in his, and twined their fingers together gently. "I'm sorry I said you were dumb. Yer not, I just -- You kinda shocked me, ya know?" His eyes held hers, almost puppy dog soft now, asking for forgiveness.
"Ray, it's all right. You don't have to--"
"Yeah," he insisted. "I do. I wanna tell you... Yer not dumb at all, Frannie," he said softly. "Yer smart." He swallowed hard, and looked down for a minute, away from her, as if he was trying to gather his courage. Then he raised his eyes to hers again, and she could feel his pulse beating fast in his wrist, where it lay against her neck. "And yer right. About me and Frayzh, I mean. Yer right. I'm sorry I acted like such a jerk."
Frannie could hardly believe it. He'd opened up to her, actually told her the truth at last. Admitted that he loved Fraser. "Shhh," she whispered, touched by his honesty, his awkward apology, and his sudden warmth. "I know. It's okay, Ray."
"Ya sure?" His blue eyes still searched hers, and his thumb moved over the back of her hand in a little caress. "Ya don't hate me for my totally immense stupidity?"
She shook her head, smiling. "No."
"Good." He flashed her a sudden smile, sweeter than any he'd ever given her before. "So yer not gonna, like, blow up my GTO when you leave or anything?" he persisted, teasing her.
She'd never seen him like this before: sweet, gentle, funny, all macho toughness cast aside. It moved her. If this is the side he shows to Benny, no wonder he fell in love. "Of course not, you big hairball," she whispered fondly. She laid her head on his shoulder and gently slipped her arms around him.
"Don'tcha mean dirtbag?" he teased. But even as he did, she felt his arms slip around her too; and they hugged each other tightly.
"Same thing," she smiled. And she didn't let go of him. This was why she was here, to show him that she still cared about him, and that Ben did too.
This feels nice, she thought. She'd never hugged Ray before, never been so close to him. He smelled good, of some spicy, musky cologne; and slender as he was, his arms were surprisingly strong. He felt warm and comforting, but thin, so thin it gave her a pang. She wondered if he was starving himself like Ben had been lately, and for the same reason. She felt the sting of tears in her own eyes, and she patted his back, wanting to comfort him. When he sighed with pleasure at the little caress, she smiled a little. "What a pair of doofs we are, huh?"
Ray made a soft, amused sound deep in his throat. But he seemed to be enjoying the hug as much as she was, because he still made no move to let her go. He even tightened his hold on her a little. She felt a soft caress on the top of her head, and realized with surprise that he'd planted a little kiss on her hair. "Yeah," he said. "Doofs... That's a nice word for it. I woulda' said--"
She laughed. "I know what you would've said! Watch your language, Ray."
She felt him grin over her head. "Aww, you've been hangin' around with the Mountie too long."
He fell silent for a minute after that, but Frannie felt his heart speed up a bit beneath her cheek, and she knew what he was thinking.
"How's he doin', anyway?" he asked at last, like she knew he would.
She lifted her head to look at him. She could've teased him, but he looked so anxious that she didn't have the heart to. "Not good. He misses you," she said honestly.
He nodded ruefully. "Think so? Me too." He sighed again. "Never should've let myself... you know."
She smiled at him. "Yeah. I know. Then again, it's not like we had any choice! He's just so... so--"
They both grinned at their mutual frustration. "So damn beautiful!" they both moaned at once, in chorus.
Then they started to laugh.
An hour and another bottle of wine later, they were both sprawled on Ray's couch again side by side, a bit the worse for wear and still talking about Fraser, still laughing at the silly things he'd made them do.
"--and then... then Ben said... 'I'm afraid -- you're going to have to go home... because--'" Frannie broke off, giggling helplessly as she tried to tell Ray about her ill-fated attempt to seduce Fraser at his apartment long ago. She still remembered it clearly, even after all this time. But it didn't hurt any more. In fact, at the moment, it seemed hysterical.
"'Cuz why?" Ray prompted, grinning.
She giggled some more, then caught her breath. "He said, 'Because your... attire -- while very fetching--'"
Ray laughed even harder. "Fetching! Oh, yeah... I can just hear that--"
"'--is entirely ina-inappropriate'!" she gasped, laughing so hard her stomach hurt.
Ray doubled over with laughter too.
"No, wait!" Frannie giggled. "There's more! Then he said, 'And besides... I'm very much af-afraid, you may... catch--catch your death -- of pneumonia! And then... Ray would kill me. Though of course... he may kill me anyway... if he ever finds out... you were h-here!'" That was all she could get out before she began laughing too hard to speak.
Ray threw back his head and whooped, laughing so hard he couldn't sit up straight any longer. He leaned his head on Frannie's shoulder at first, then, when he couldn't stop giggling, let himself slide down so that his head was in her lap. "Oh God," he gasped. "What a riot! Damn..." He just laid there while they both laughed helplessly, until tears streamed from their eyes.
Frannie didn't mind. It felt good being so close to Ray. Talking to him like this, open and honest, holding nothing back. Confessing the silly things she'd done in the name of her love for the Mountie, and knowing that Ray understood them. That he understood how she felt in a way her own brother never had. And she understood his feelings too. She understood perfectly.
"Oh man," Ray gasped at last, wiping his streaming eyes again. "That is just too funny. Who else but Frayzh would throw a beautiful woman in leather outta his apartment in the middle of the night?"
His words surprised Frannie so much that she stopped laughing. "Beautiful?" she echoed, touched. "You think I'm--"
Ray smiled up at her, a shy smile she'd never seen before. "Yeah. Always have. Didn't you know?"
She swatted him playfully, to hide the way his unexpected compliment made her blush. "No! You were always so busy threatening to pop me if I didn't look something up fast enough on the computer, I guess I missed all your admiring glances," she teased.
Ray's smile faded a little. He took her hand in his, rubbed his thumb gently across her fingers. "Sorry if I was kinda' hard on you," he said. "Truth is, I guess I was a little jealous."
Frannie blinked. "Of ME?"
He shrugged, a bit embarrassed. "Well, I didn't know I was at the time. Hadn't figured out how I felt about Fraser then. Just knew it drove me crazy how you were always sashayin' around him in that little T-shirt--"
She grinned at him. "You noticed that, huh?"
Ray raised an eyebrow. "Frannie, trust me -- every guy in the station's noticed that!"
She blushed again, pleased that she'd been driving all the men at the 27th crazy while pursuing Fraser. At least all that time and effort spent 'sashaying' around the Mountie hadn't been completely wasted! She made a mental note to ask Ray which detectives, if any, had made specific comments about her sometime. After all, now that Fraser was out of the picture, she had to set her sights elsewhere...
"Besides," Ray went on, "I knew he loved you, and you knew him first. And it just kinda... made me feel left out, ya know?"
Frannie's smile turned a little sad at that. "Yeah," she said softly. "I know he loves me. But just... like a sister, you know? Not like I wanted him to."
Ray was the first person she'd ever admitted that too; and it was something she never would've told her own brother. She hoped to God he wouldn't tease her about it.
He didn't. "Yeah. I know," he said. His voice was gentle, even a bit sad. "I'm sorry, Frannie."
She loved him for that. Despite his temper, he had this amazing sweetness that touched her. It made her remember why she'd come there: to end the feud, and get Ray and Ben back together again. They were both good guys, and they deserved to be happy. She stroked Ray's spiky blonde hair gently, affectionately, and smiled down at him. "It's okay. It doesn't matter anymore," she said, and she was only half lying. "What does matter is, he loves you too. Fraser, I mean. He really loves you--"
Ray tensed instantly, his face tightening as if she'd slapped him. "Sure. Tell me another one," he said bitterly.
She frowned at him. "Ray, I mean it! He's been sick since you left! He's lost weight, he's not eating..."
That got Ray's attention. His blue eyes flicked to hers, full of pained surprise -- but then he caught himself. Shrugged and looked away. "What's he got to be upset about? He got his old partner back! That's what he wanted--"
Frannie shook her head. "No, he wants you!"
Ray's face hardened again. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair roughly. "He does, huh? He's sure as hell got a funny way o' showin' it."
"What do you mean?"
"Frannie--" he broke off suddenly, as if deciding he'd already said too much. He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. "You don't wanna know."
"Oh yes I do! Tell me, Ray," she demanded. "Tell me what Benny did that was so terrible you had to run out on him like that!"
He glared at her. "You got it all wrong. He ran out on me, okay? That's what happened! He left me."
She shook her head, confused. "What're you talking about? You're the one who transferred out, not him!"
"I mean before that," Ray shot back. "It happened before that!"
Frannie stared at him, even more confused. "What happened?"
Ray set his jaw. "We were together, okay? He spent the night at my place. Just once. The night Vecchio came back--"
"Okay," she said, ignoring a faint twinge of jealousy at the thought of Ben making love to Ray. "So what happened?"
"Vecchio! Vecchio happened!" he sputtered, so angry he was almost incoherent.
"My brother? What do you mean?" She'd sensed that Kowalski couldn't stand her brother, but she wanted to know why. She cast her mind back to the weekend of Ray's return. "Ray told me he met Frase and they had breakfast that morning. So what?"
Ray stared at her, frustrated. "You really don't know, do you?"
"Know what?"
Ray looked away. "Oh, man. I've been shootin' my mouth off, but... that's enough," he said, suddenly uncomfortable.
Frannie caught his shoulder and shook him a little. "Spit it out, Ray!" she said, exasperated. "What's the big, dark secret here? What did Benny do? Why are you so mad at him? And what's Ray got to do with it?"
He shook his head stubbornly. "Stay out of it, Frannie."
Frannie shook her head just as stubbornly. "I can't! I'm already in it," she protested. "Benny's unhappy, so Ray's unhappy, and he's complaining to Serena, but neither of them can get Fraser to talk! And they're all driving me crazy! So help me out here, okay? Tell me what started all this!"
"Okay, okay!" he gave in reluctantly. "You wanna know so bad, I'll tell you. But yer not gonna like it."
"What?" she demanded, wondering why he looked so apprehensive.
He sighed. "Fraser lied to me."
Frannie snorted. "No way! Fraser never lies."
"Look, who's tellin' this story? Me or you?"
"Okay, okay," she said. She knew he was wrong about Fraser lying. He had to be. But she wanted to get to the heart of this mess, to get it cleaned up, and to do that, she had to find out what Ray was so upset about. So she shut up. "Go on."
"All right. Where was I? Oh, yeah. How Fraser lied. Okay. Well, he jumped outta my bed that morning, told me he had to go home to feed Dief. So I loaned him my car. He said he'd only be gone about thirty minutes, but he didn't come back. After almost two hours went by, I finally took a cab over to his place to find out what was goin' on. Then I found out he wasn't feedin' Dief at all. He took off to go to bed with your brother, who I didn't even know was back yet! Do you get it now?"
Frannie blinked at him, stunned. "WHAT?"
"They're lovers!" Ray snapped. "Benny and Vecchio. As soon as he found out Mr. Armani was back, Fraser dumped me like yesterday's news."
Frannie stared at Ray for a long moment. Just stared, wide-eyed with surprise. Then she put a hand over her mouth, to stifle a giggle.
"Hey!" Ray growled. "What's so funny?"
She laughed even harder at that. "Ben?" she gasped. "Benton -- and my brother?" She waved her hand helplessly. "Oh, please!"
Ray's eyes narrowed. "Dammit, Frannie! It isn't funny!"
She stopped laughing just long enough to raise an eyebrow at him. "Oh no? My brother -- Mr. Homophobic -- Ray gay? I don't think so!" She burst out giggling again, unable to help herself.
Ray folded his arms over his chest and glared at her. "I'm tellin' ya, it's true!"
He was starting to get really angry, so Frannie forced herself to stop laughing. "Okay. Okay, Ray, I'm sorry. But just tell me. What... um... what made you think so?" she managed to say after a moment. "That Ray are Benton are lovers, I mean."
Ray shrugged unhappily. "I saw 'em together that morning," he said.
She frowned, confused as to how he'd ever gotten such a mistaken impression. "Well, what exactly did you see? I mean, were they kissing in public? Waving little rainbow flags? What?"
"No. Nothing like that--"
"Then what DID they do?"
He finally told her the whole story: How he felt Ben had lied to him, because he was supposed to be coming back to go to breakfast with him, but he hadn't. How he'd gotten to Ben's place that morning just in time to see him going off with her brother instead. How he'd heard Ben say that he'd invited Vecchio out to breakfast himself, so he'd thought he'd arranged their meeting. How he'd also seen Ray throw his arm around Ben's shoulders as they walked away... How he'd assumed they were lovers. How he figured that it had taken Ben forever to get back to his place because he'd probably taken her brother back to his apartment after having breakfast and made love to him.
Jeez! Frannie thought, shocked. That's what this whole mess is about? Kowalski saw Ray give Benny a hug, and thought that meant they were lovers? He freaked out over something that never happened! Something that wasn't even real! She just stared at him, not knowing where to begin. "Ray, you've got this all wrong," she said at last.
His lips twisted into a disbelieving frown. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah!" she insisted.
"How do you know, Frannie? How-do-you-know?" he grated angrily.
"Well, for one thing, you said Fraser lied to you. That he ran home so he could go off with my brother, right?"
Ray nodded, his eyes stormy.
"Well, that's not how it happened!"
"How do you know? Were you there?"
"No, but I know."
"How could you?" Ray demanded.
"Just listen to me!" she pleaded. "I was home the day Ray got home. He came to our house for a bit, said hi to the family, then after dinner, he left for Ben's place."
"So? That just proves my point! He couldn't wait to be with him, cuz they're lovers! Just like I said!"
"No, wait, Ray! Lemme finish," she protested so loudly that he fell silent again. "Ben didn't lie to you so he could run off to be with my brother. He couldn't have, because he didn't even know he was going to be at his apartment! Ray surprised him!"
Ray's frown grew deeper. "Whaddaya mean?"
"I wanted to call Fraser to tell him the good news, to let him know Ray was home, but Ray wouldn't let me!"
Ray snorted. "How could you have called him? He doesn't have a phone!"
"Well, we can't call him directly, but we leave messages for him with his neighbor sometimes. Mrs. Worthing."
Ray nodded. "Oh yeah. The old lady who bakes him cookies 'n stuff."
Frannie nodded. "She's got a bit of a crush on him--"
"Yeah, yeah. Like everyone else in Chicago. Go on with yer story, Frannie," Ray said impatiently.
"Okay. Well, anyway, Ray made me promise not to even call Mrs. Worthing. He even made Ma promise not to! He said he was gonna go over to Fraser's place and just wait till he came home to surprise him."
Ray swallowed hard. "That can't be," he said. But his voice was weak, and there was a look of growing shock on his face.
Frannie caught his hand and squeezed it. "It is," she said softly. "I swear it is, Ray! I was there, I heard Ray say it. I saw him leave without calling Mrs. Worthing, and my mom and I didn't either. And nobody else could've told Ben, because nobody else knew that Ray was home! Well, except Lt. Welsh, and he doesn't know about Mrs. Worthing either. So Benny didn't know Ray was going to be there waiting for him when he left your place. He couldn't have!"
Ray closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He didn't want to believe what Frannie was telling him; but he couldn't disbelieve it either. Frannie wouldn't lie to him, not about this. Not when she knew how he felt about Fraser. Actually, Frannie wouldn't have anyway. She was an honest person and he trusted her. So if she said Ben hadn't known that Vecchio was waiting for him back at his apartment that morning, then he hadn't. Ben hadn't known that Vecchio was even in Chicago, any more than he had! So he hadn't lied to him, he hadn't left him to go be with Vecchio that morning, he'd just found him there when he went home. Despite the way things had looked, it had been an innocent meeting.
Ray felt dizzy with shock. He'd been wrong. All his self righteous anger at Fraser's supposed betrayal was melting away like so much smoke, leaving shame and regret in its place. Fraser hadn't lied to him, hadn't run off to be with Vecchio like he thought. He'd run into his old buddy because Vecchio had planned it that way, not the other way around. He'd considered that possibility at the time, but discarded it after he saw Ben laughing with Vecchio. After he saw Vecchio put his arm around him. Jealousy had swamped him, and he'd stopped thinking rationally. He'd decided that Ben was guilty without even giving him a chance to defend himself -- because Stella had left him, so he'd thought Fraser would too.
The realization terrified him. Because if he'd been wrong about that, then he might've been wrong about all of it. So everything he'd done, everything he'd said, the way he'd yelled at Ben -- might've all been for nothing. He'd left the 27th for nothing -- been with Rylan for nothing -- left the second big love of his lif