Copyright November 12, 2000 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: soft R for Ray's potty-mouth and mild male-male stuff

Pairing: Benton Fraser/Raymond Kowalski

Disclaimer: "due South," with its related characters and themes, does not belong to me.  I make no money from this venture.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor.

Wherein Ray runs an errand, forgets his turn signal, and steals Fraser's Stetson.

        When he wakened, he left Ray's sofa, visited the bathroom, redressed, and paused in the doorway of Ray's bedroom.  "Ray.  Ray.  Ray."

        "Nnnhh."

        "I'm leaving now.  Thank you for-"

        "Partners, Fraser," Ray said, rolling over and pulling the covers over his head.

        Fraser had to smile.  "Good morning, Ray."  It was an interesting phenomenon.  What was the semi-appropriate expression?  Ray could dish it out but not take it?  Something like that.  Ray could give and give, but if anyone tried to give back to him, or even acknowledge all that he did, he became dismissive, irritable.

        Briskly walking back to the Consulate, Fraser sorted through last night's conversation, wishing that he'd declined those beers.  Ray thought that he could renew his relationship with Melissa.  The wound was too fresh for him to decide now whether he wanted to pursue that idea or not.  He wanted to be with her, but she had chosen someone else, and his pride balked at the idea of making another attempt.

        Ray thought that he should be more open with people.  He wasn't sure about that idea, either.  It was one thing to be open with Ray.  Ray was...was...different, and had been from the start.  And now, especially, with their excursion behind them in addition to their working partnership, all that they'd been through together, all that they'd shared...how could he possibly be with anyone else as he was with Ray?  Other people misunderstood him, misjudged him.  Ray understood him.

        Ray had said something about his experience with Victoria ranking among the "top five highlights" in his life.  Highlights was, perhaps, not the most appropriate word.  Nevertheless, Ray had a point.  But was it possible to pick only five events in his personal history?  How could he pare down four decades into five main incidents?  He couldn't even begin to choose - - the people, the births, the deaths, the discoveries, personal events, professional milestones.  It was a worthless exercise.

        He wondered what Ray's five highlights would be.  Whether something on that list might include him.  Perhaps not.  Their adventure in the Northwest Territories might qualify, depending on Ray's mood at the moment of making the list.

        Ray called later that morning.  "Yeah, Fraser, it's Ray.  I've gotta run an errand, so I'll be late, okay?"

        "An errand, Ray?"

        "Yeah, an errand.  So don't hold your breath or anything.  I'll be over later, okay?"

        "That's fine, Ray."  He was curious, but he could wait.

        Ray was an hour late, and not in a good mood.  Fraser thought it best to keep quiet.

        "How was your morning, Ray?"

        Ray growled.  Actually, literally, growled.  No, perhaps he snarled.  Dief would have been a better judge.  Fraser wasn't adept at translating human noises.

        "Has something gone wrong?"

        "People suck."  It was said with incredible, bitter intensity.  Ray was angry.  Angry and hurt, very hurt.

        Filled with concern, wanting to understand and help, Fraser said, "Is there...anyone in particular, Ray?"  He overlooked the lack of a turn signal.

        Ray was glaring through the windshield.  "Shut up, Fraser."

        He decided not to take it personally.  Really, he shouldn't.  Ray was upset, and taking it out on him, and he should be mature and understanding.  "There's no call for rudeness, Ray."

        "There's no fucking call for a lot of the lousy crappy shitty things that people do to each other," Ray snapped.

        "While that may be true, there's-"

        "Can you just be quiet for a minute!" Ray shouted.

        "May I ask where we're going?"

        "I don't know where we're going.  Just shut up and let me drive."

        "If-"

        Ray yanked the wheel, the car screeching to the curb.  A split second later Ray was out of the car, alarmingly close to getting run over, striding away from Fraser.

        Fraser followed quickly.  He walked beside Ray down the sidewalk, silent, until the rapid pace lessened.  Then he asked, respectfully, "Ray?"

        Ray wandered over toward a building, stood out of the way of pedestrian traffic against the rough brick.  Leaning one shoulder against the building, his blue eyes flickered to Fraser's and then away again.  "Went to see Melissa."

        "You did," Fraser said.  Well.  Unexpected and unwelcome news.

        "She's a bitch, Fraser.  Stay the fuck away from her."

        "Ray."  He was so upset by those words that he didn't know where to begin.

        Ray cut him off quickly.  "She doesn't know you, Fraser.  She doesn't know you and she doesn't understand you."

        "If that is true, Ray, it is entirely my fault, as you claimed last night."

        "You in love with her?"

        "Ray-"

        "Are you?  Is it the real true forever kind of love?  Is it the thing?"

        "The thing."

        "You know what I'm talking about.  Don't give me shit right now, Fraser."

        "I refuse to carry on a conversation with you when you're acting-"

        "She's pretty, she's smart, she can tell a good joke, she cooks decent, she's real easy to talk to, I liked her, I thought she was pretty cool.  But she doesn't know you.  She doesn't understand you."

        "You think that you do?"

        "You think I don't?"

        "Ray, will you please explain to me where your anger-"

        "C'mere."  Ray pushed away from the wall and turned down the alleyway.  "Come here, Fraser," he insisted, glaring.  Ray continued down the alley, and Fraser followed.

        When they were alone among the dumpsters, Fraser faced Ray.  "Ray, what are you-" he began, and then Ray reached up and plucked his Stetson from his head, and Ray kissed him chastely and very very quickly.

        "You see that?" Ray asked.  "I can do that and you're going to wonder why I did it, but it's not a major thing, it's not ooohh drama and suspicion and soul-searching.  You and me, wait, you and I - - you and I?"

        "You and I."

        "You and I, we're good, we're partners buddies whatever, you know it, I know it.  I bitch at you and you bug the hell out of me and you sleep on my sofa and hey, I stole the sacred Stetson, Fraser, but...  She doesn't get it."

        "She?  Melissa?  Doesn't understand what?"

        "Us.  You and me.  She thinks you wanna get in my pants.  See?  I kissed you and nothing happened because it doesn't matter.  We're not like that.  She doesn't get it.  She's all suspicious and superior and you don't wanna know what she said to me, Fraser, you just don't.  It's a good thing I'm sexist 'cause otherwise I was gonna kick her in the head right then and there.  She doesn't get that we're close, that we're partners."

        "Melissa believes that we're romantically involved?"

        "She thinks you want me.  What, am I supposed to be flattered?  I don't get why it's a one-sided thing, maybe she thinks that you're Canadian so you're, I don't know."

        "We're not like what, Ray?"

        "What?"

        "You said, 'We're not like that.'  What did you mean?"

        "I don't know, Fraser, I just said a whole lot.  We're not having sex, we're not all hung up on that, we're us, we're partners."

        "Why did her suspicions upset you?"

        "It was the way she said it, that superior attitude, that...  She said stuff she shouldn't have said.  About you.  About what's inside your head.  Come on, you can have this back."  Ray handed over the Stetson.  "We need to go interview John's mother.  Welsh'll kill me if he knows I was off talking to your ex-girlfriend all morning.  And she is your ex, Fraser.  You do not go back to her."

        "That's my decision to make, Ray."

        "If you go back there, she'll say to you what she said to me.  You don't need that."

        "I'm an adult, Ray.  If Melissa has made incorrect assumptions-"

        "Don't..."  Ray sighed and scratched the back of his head.  "Look.  I said some stuff to her that I shouldn't have said."

        "I'm sure that you did, Ray.  You may apolo-"

        "Hell no.  I won't apologize to her.  I'll apologize to you."

        "What did you say to Melissa?"

        "A lot of stuff I shouldn't have.  Something about it wasn't my fault that you liked me better.  Something about if you really did want me, I'd be glad to take you if it meant keeping you away from her.  Something about-"

        "Ray.  You have absolutely no right to speak to or about Melissa as you have been.  I would appreciate an apology.  I would also like for you to apologize to Melissa personally, as I am sure that she deserves it.  And as of right now, I am fairly certain that I do not 'like you better.'"  Fraser put on his Stetson and started out of the alleyway.

        Melissa's voice, just as he remembered it, quick and rich.  "Ben, I'm so...I don't even know where to start.  I'm so sorry.  There's been a terrible misunderstanding.  At the risk of sounding like a soap opera heroine, could I beg you for a second chance?  I really think that we need to talk."

        "I'm sorry," he said.  "I'm afraid that I'd rather not.  Excuse me."  He hung up the phone, found his boots, and left.

        "Good evening, Ray."

        "Kind of late for you to be out, isn't it?"

        "I really think that we need to talk."

        "Thought you hated me."  Ray closed the door behind him, taking a seat on the sofa, in a T-shirt and boxers, leaning against the sofa arm.

        "No, Ray.  You were terribly upset, and you upset me as well."

        "Sorry about that."

        "Melissa called."

        "Thought she would.  Got a date?"

        "No."

        Ray looked perplexed.  "What's this no?"

        "No, Ray.  I won't be seeing Melissa anymore."

        "She's the love of your life."

        "She is not."

        "Don't snap at me.  What went wrong?"

        "She wanted a second chance.  I wasn't willing to give her one."

        "Why not?  What'd she do that's so bad?  So she-"

        "She upset you.  You were furious, you were terribly, terribly hurt-"

        "I'll get over it."

        "I won't."

        "Fraser-"

        "Nobody hurts you on my turf."

        "Don't quote me."

        "Stop telling me what to do."

        "No more Melissa?  Fraser, it's...I'm sorry.  I thought she was going to be good for you.  I didn't mean to mess up your life."

        "You've never messed up my life, Ray.  You've done great things for me.  And this is a problem between myself and Melissa, not you."

        "So I should stop feeling guilty?"

        "Yes."

        "Okay.  I'll try."

        "You gave me something earlier.  I'd like to return it."

        "A headache?  A hard time?"

        Fraser leaned in and kissed Ray.  Soft lips, slow pressure, slight scrape of stubble.  He licked Ray's lower lip, took it between his teeth, opened Ray's mouth.

        "You'd better stop that, Fraser," Ray said, sounding amused and just a bit breathless.  "Might give somebody the wrong idea."

        Ray's tongue was sleek and wet against his, Ray's fingers creeping back through his hair.  Ray tasted like pizza and chocolate and Ray, sweet and intoxicating and extremely addictive.

        "Typical," Ray said, licking his lips, leaning back again.  "I kiss you, you gotta kiss me back ten times more.  Gotta be the best, gotta one-up me."

        Fraser smiled.

        "Took you long enough, though.  I've been waiting for you to start licking me.  You gotta get your tongue on everything else."

        "You taste good, Ray."

        "Really?"  He licked his forearm.  "Nope."

        Fraser reached for Ray's arm, brought Ray's hand toward his mouth, turned it and licked slowly, delicately, across the sensitive skin inside Ray's wrist, taking a moment to trace down a vein.  "Like that, Ray."

        "Hunh."

        Fraser watched in a twisting silence as Ray slowly licked his own wrist, Ray's eyes closing, Ray's fingers starting to curl.

        Ray's eyes opened.  He winked.  "You can have the sofa."

        "I think I'd prefer the bed."

        "Not on the first date, Fraser."

        "We've known each other-"

        "That's no excuse.  You think one kiss is gonna get me to drop my pants?"

        "You're not wearing pants."

        "Like that, don't you?"

        "Yes."

        "Hey, hey, watch the hands!"  Ray jumped from the sofa.  "You stay there and sleep.  Don't make me lock my door."  Ray walked to the bedroom.  Fraser watched him go, hearing a few mutters about lecherous Mounties.

        He missed Melissa, her wide smiles, her long and hilarious stories, her contrasting romantic and pragmatic sides, her hand on his sex.  But he didn't regret parting with her.  Anyone who could hurt Ray that deeply wasn't getting anywhere with him.

        From what he'd gathered that day on the sidewalk, in the alley, Melissa had been correct.  Of course he wanted Ray.  But Ray was correct, too.  They weren't like that.  He wanted Ray, and he wasn't going to get Ray, and in the end it didn't matter.  They were partners whether or not they were lovers.  Ray was his co-worker, his best friend, his heart and soul.  His other half.  His better half.  And he was Ray's.