Disclaimer: As always, the characters belong to Alliance, not to me, and
I don't make any money from this.
Rating: PG, slash, m/m, h/c
Followup to "Ray Loves Fraser"




                          Ray Still Loves Fraser

Ray was having a nightmare. He was reliving the afternoon's events:  the
phone call telling him that a man was holding hostages at the Consulate,
his frantic drive over there; being told that there had been "a casualty"
but not knowing whom;  Turnbull telling him that Fraser had tried to
disarm a man with a gun; a corpse with half its head missing; a red
uniform covered with blood. 

He sat bolt upright in bed. "Fraser!" he cried out. It wasn't until
someone stirred in the bed next to him that he realized he'd spoken the
name aloud. 

Fraser half-rose and leaned on one arm, looking over at Ray. "Ray?" he
asked, concerned. "Is something wrong?" 

Fraser. Fraser was in his bed. Now he remembered. He'd literally collapsed
with relief when he found that Fraser was all right. He'd sobbed out his
love for his partner, and discovered to his pleasure and astonishment 
that Fraser loved him, too.  The Ice Queen had arrived some time later, as
the police and coroner were leaving, and after hearing Fraser's and
Turnbull's recounting of the afternoon's events had given them the rest of
the day, and the next, to recover.  Fraser had gone home with Ray, and
now he was in Ray's bed.  Diefenbaker was curled up in a corner,
pointedly ignoring his human partner's recent activities. 

Fraser was still looking at him, waiting for an answer. It amazed Ray to
see the love and concern on his partner's face. He had thought that no one, 
least of all the Mountie,  would ever look at him that way. 

"Just a nightmare, Frase. Nothin' to worry about. Go back to sleep," he
said. 

Ray felt Fraser's arms wrap around him. "You're trembling, Ray." 

"Yeah, well, it was just a dream. It shouldn't bother me that much," said
Ray. 

"Tell me about the dream," suggested Fraser.

"Aw, Fraser, it was nothin', really. Don't worry about it."

"Ray, it obviously has upset you a great deal. You called out my name in
your sleep. You were - are - shaking. That does not sound like 'nothing'
to me."  

Ray sighed. "It was about the shooting this afternoon," he said. 

"At the Consulate?"

"Yeah. All I heard was there was someone with a gun, and that there were
shots fired, and a 'casualty' but nobody knew who it was. And then
Turnbull said you'd tried to disarm the guy, and that it didn't work. Then
I saw a body on the floor with half a head, and your uniform with blood on
it. I thought you were dead."  He breathed deeply and turned away from
Fraser, trying not to start crying again. 

Fraser's arms tightened around him. "Ray," he said. "Ray, look at me. Look
at me." 

Ray looked up at his partner - his *lover* - and the love he saw looking
back at him made him burst into tears all over again.

"Ray, it's all right. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm so sorry you
had to go through that today. I wish there was something I could have done
to prevent it." 

Ray couldn't say anything for a while, but eventually his sobs subsided
and he regained control. He looked into the Mountie's troubled blue eyes
and said, "I'm not sorry, Frase." 

"I don't understand, Ray."

"Not like I want ta ever go through that again, but if it hadn't happened,
I might never have told ya how I feel about ya. And I wouldn't know that
ya feel the same way about me. And I wouldn't have ya here in my bed," he
added with a small smile. 

Fraser still looked troubled. "Why, Ray?" he asked.

"Why what, Frase?"

"Why would you not want to tell me how you feel? You are the best thing
that has ever happened to me." 

Ray sighed. "How could I think ya would ever want me, Frase?  Yer so
gorgeous, so perfect, ya could have any woman - or man - that ya wanted.
Why would ya want a Chicago flatfoot with experimental hair?" He had been
asking himself that question ever since Fraser had said he loved him.

"Well, for one thing, I like your hair," Fraser said teasingly. Then he
turned serious.  "Ray, I meant it when I said that you are the best thing
that ever happened to me. I must admit that when I discovered you had
replaced Ray Vecchio I did not know what to expect, and I seriously
considered leaving Chicago and returning to Canada. Ray is my best friend
and his friendship helped me adjust to living here. I did not know if I
could get along without him. But you surprised me. You made me part of
your life.  And I love you for it." 

Now it was Ray's turn to be surprised. Chicago *without* Fraser. Perish
the thought. "Fraser, don't you know that Chicago is a better place with
you in it?" he asked. 

Fraser looked amused at the question. "In what way, Ray?"

"Well, it's like, you always see the best in people. You go out of yer way
to be polite and helpful. Most people,  especially cops, get jaded real
quick after seeing the worst the city has to offer, day after day. You
don't. It's like it doesn't stick to you. Someone told me once that
Vecchio always complained that no matter what the two of ya did, he always
ended up covered in dirt and muck and you didn't.  Yer like that in other
ways, too. And I've noticed that it rubs off on people. The other day I
saw Dewey hold open a door for an old lady.  I've even heard Huey say
'Thank you kindly.' The lieutenant doesn't blow up at people as much as he
used to.  That's because of your influence, Frase." 

Fraser was almost beaming. "I honestly did not know that, Ray. Thank you
kindly for telling me."

Ray laughed. "Yer welcome, Fraser," he said, and kissed his partner. He
saw the look of love and tenderness in the Mountie's face again, but this
time it made him smile. "I love you, Fraser," he said. 

"And I love you, Ray," Fraser replied.

And then there was no more talking.

End