WIP amnesty, part 4
Due South, RayK/Fraser
Benton Fraser was cold. He was extremely cold, which was silly because it was Chicago in the middle of July and he didn't even get cold back home in the middle of July. He sighed. Home. What he wouldn't give to hear the thunder of caribou hooves as they raced across the tundra, feel the icy fingers of hypothermia creeping up his toes…
Actually, he was cold enough that he could almost pretend it was hypothermia. He'd have to thank Inspector Thatcher for insisting upon cranking up the air conditioner over the weekend so that her office would be cool come Monday morning. He'd tried to explain to her that it was quite unnecessary, not to mention ecologically unsound, but she had insisted, and as he lay there on his cot wrapped in every blanket he owned, he realized that she had been right. It was actually almost pleasant, especially if he closed his eyes and imagined that he was lying on his cot in the cabin in the middle of winter.
"Sir? Sir? Constable Fraser, sir?"
That was odd. Who would come all the way out to the cabin in the middle of winter?
"This isn't meant as a criticism, sir, but it's nearly nine o'clock in the morning. I fear Inspector Thatcher won't be pleased when she discovers that you've slept in, sir. Sir?"
He kept his eyes closed. Whoever it was could wait. He was tired and his muscles ached. He didn't remember what he'd done the day before, but doubtless it had been something quite exhausting. Perhaps he'd re-shingled the roof and chopped enough firewood for the entire winter, and then gotten into a brawl with a man three times his size. Not that he knew for sure, but that felt about right.
"Sir? Can you come out from under the blankets now, sir?"
Well, that was just ridiculous. It had to be 50 below out there, and George and Martha's boy, Benton, was no fool. He knew very well that proper coverage prevented…no, that wasn't right. That was…that was something else entirely. Proper…proper something, at any rate. It wasn't important.
His visitor reached beneath the blankets to touch his forehead, and then began to make a noise that sounded very much like the wail of a frightened sea otter. Yes, indeed, he was home at last.
**********
Fraser opened his eyes, blinked a few times against the bright light as he tried to determine where he was.
Ray shook his head and exhaled loudly through his nostrils, then turned and stalked to the end of the bed, turned and stalked back, breath coming hard. He brought to mind a bull about to charge, though Fraser knew better than to mention that.
Ray was very angry, that much he knew. Ray was so angry he couldn't even speak. Fraser watched him turn and stalk away again, shake his shoulders out, take several deep breaths.
He didn't know what he'd done to make Ray so angry, but it had to be something very bad. He tried to remember how he'd ended up in hospital, but the last thing he remembered was fixing a pot of bark tea for his cough and settling down on his cot for a night of solitude and reading.
"Ray?" He cleared his throat. His voice was weak and he had to try again, "Ray?"
"Only you, Fraser," Ray said, turning and stalking back up to Fraser's side. "Normal people get colds. Normal people get bronchitis. Normal people get normal pneumonia, but not you, oh, no. You, you gotta go that extra mile and get freaking Legionnaires' disease. You can't just come down with something common, can you?"
Fraser blinked several times. "Oh, dear," he said.
"You bet your ass oh, dear," Ray snapped.
"I…the first thing we must do, Ray, is to identify the source of the bacteria. Legionella pneumophila can be quite harmful, and who knows how many people can become infected? In fact, the disease itself is named for a group of American Legi-"
"I know, Fraser, I'm a freaking Legionnaires' disease encyclopedia after all this."
"The source is most likely a pool of warm water, perhaps a hot tub or hot water tank."
"Or maybe a cooling tower for a large air-conditioning system?" Ray asked as he raked his fingers through his hair.
"Yes, exactly! What we must do is-"
"Fraser, jeez, I'm not being, like, symbolic or anything when I say it could be a cooling tower. It was a cooling tower. It was the cooling tower for the Consulate's air-conditioning system."
"Oh. Has the CDC been notified?"
"Yeah." He sighed and seemed to deflate as he sat in the chair by the side of Fraser's bed. "Yeah, it's all been taken care of Frase. I guess I should have started out telling you that, knowing the way you are."
"The way I am?"
"Always worried about everybody else. I just…" Ray closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. "You scared the shit out of me, that's all."
"Why?"
Ray's eyes popped open. "Because you almost died, freak."
"I did?"
"No, having a fever of 107 and being in a fucking coma for a week made you the fucking picture of health," Ray said as he glared at Fraser. "You were having fucking hallucinations, you were so peachy."
"There's no need to shout at me, Ray."
"I'm not shouting. If you want shouting, I'll give you shouting-"
"I'm sorry, Ray. I didn't mean to upset you."
Ray sighed once more. "I'm not…I mean you didn't…you got nothing to apologize for. I just, you know, I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do anything at all except spin my wheels and this chair isn't very comfortable and sleeping in it gives me a crick in my neck, you know?"
"Understood," Fraser said with a nod that started his head throbbing. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply, but his chest ached even more than his head. "How high did you say my fever was?"
"107," Ray said, and Fraser could hear him scooting the chair closer to the edge of the bed. "That's 41.7 in Canadian, by the way. I asked because I thought you might want to know."
"Thank you, Ray."
"Yeah, well. It wasn't that high for very long, but everybody was freaking out about it."
"I can imagine."
"I assure you I'm quite able to-"
"It's a rule, Fraser," Ray said as he tapped the back of the wheelchair. "Doesn't matter if you can walk or not, you come in on a stretcher, you leave in a wheelchair. It's in the manual."
Fraser looked from Ray to the nurse, who nodded. "All right then," he said as he lowered himself into the wheelchair. It felt better than it should to not have to hold himself up any longer than necessary. "Though I assure you I'm quite capable of walking."
"We know," Ray said.
{Fraser stays at Ray's apt while recovering but won't stay in bed and Ray comes home to find him collapsed on the floor}
"Oh, that is it," Ray said as he leaned over Fraser. "That is it, mister. I didn't want to have to do this, but you're leaving me no choice. I'm sorry, and this is gonna hurt me more than it'll hurt you, but it's gotta be done."
Ray's speech made Fraser anticipate getting kicked in the head. He was in a perfect position for it, after all. Instead, Ray squatted down and helped him up off the floor, then supported him as they walked back to the couch. He wanted to ask just what his punishment was supposed to be, but he was so tired, so warm, so comfortable, that as Ray tucked the blankets in around him he couldn't get a single word out before he fell asleep.
He awoke to Ray's voice. It seemed muffled, then he realized that the covers were pulled up around his ears. He pushed them down and he could hear Ray plainly despite the fact that he was whispering.
"He's driving me nuts. He's in a coma for a week, he's got the nastiest form on pneumonia there is, he's so weak he can't even make it across the living room, and he still won't listen to a word I say."
"Poor dear." The woman's voice made Fraser open his eyes. Though he'd only met her once, he was quite sure
"Here, I made you some tea," she said, sitting on the edge of the coffee table with a mug in her hands. Fraser reached for it, but she moved it away from his hands and raised it to his lips. It was a bit awkward, but he sipped from it as she tipped it gently, then had to force himself not to make a face.
"That's, um," he said, "it's quite sweet."
Barbara smiled and patted his hand. "It's the raspberry syrup, it'll help you get better. Now, open up for one more sip like a big boy."
Fraser did as he was told, staring daggers at Ray who was silently laughing and pointing from the kitchen.
"Stanley," Barbara said over her shoulder. "I'd appreciate it if you'd go down to the car and bring up the coolers before you go to work."
"You know," Ray said with a sigh as he set the coolers down on his kitchen table. "I'd complain about hauling all of this up three flights of stairs, but I won't. You know why?"
"Because you know what's in them," Barbara said as she pressed the back of her hand to Fraser's forehead.
"Exactly." He grinned at Fraser. "You, my friend, are in for a treat. You know that saying starve a fever, feed a cold? In my family, that's heresy. Feed a fever, feed a cold, feed a cough, feed a sniffle, feed a sprained ankle, feed a knife wound, feed Legionnaires' disease. Oooh, sledzie w smietanie, makes it feel like Christmas. You'll like this, Fraser, it's herring. He grew up eating stuff like blubber and lichen, Mum, so the herring will be a big hit."
"Blubber and lichen, hmm?" Barbara asked. "How did your mother prepare that?"
"Ah, well, actually, my mother passed away when I was six, so I'm afraid her recipes have been lost to me."
Barbara's eyes had gone huge. "Six years old?" she asked. "You haven't had a mother since you were six years old? Oh, you poor darling."
He cleared his throat. "Well, I was raised by my grandparents, and my grandmother was quite-"
"They were traveling librarians," Ray cut in. "They moved around a lot so he never got to go to school and make friends. He never got a bike or a baseball glove or anything-just books. His grandma used to put a bowl upside-down on his head and just cut around it when he needed a trim. Also, I don't think she hugged him very much."
Fraser couldn't ever remember telling Ray about the bowl cuts or the hugs. He would have accused Ray of making things up if he hadn't been correct.
Ray grinned as he settled down with his bowl of bigos. "I was wrong there, Fraser. That actually hurt you more than it hurt me."
Fraser nodded as he slowly picked his bowl up off the coffee table and pulled it towards him, letting it rest against his chest. "Ray, I'm 34 years old and your mother asked me if I needed to use the potty."
Ray laughed and took another bite of bigos.
"And I can't be sure, but I think she may have started formal adoption proceedings."
Due South, F/K camping
"Fraser? Fraser. Fraser? Fraser, buddy, you awake? Fraser? Fraser. Fraser?" Ray whispered as he slowly inched his sleeping back closer to Fraser's. "Hey. You awake?"
"I don't see how I could be otherwise, Ray."
"Fraser, tell me that's not, like, a maniac ghost or something I'm hearing."
"A maniac…?" Fraser snorted. "Ray, I believe what you're referring to is the alarm call of Gavia immer."
"Gava what now? What's that? Is it gonna try and eat us, Fraser, cuz it sounds way too happy for this late and night. And a little crazy. Please, Fraser, tell me it's not going to eat us."
"It's not going to eat us, Ray."
"You sure? You're not just saying that?"
Fraser sighed. "It's a loon, Ray. A common loon. Honestly. One would think you would be familiar with the call considering that you grew up on one of the Great Lakes."
"I grew up in Chicago, Fraser. The lake's just there to make it colder when the wind blows. The only birds I know are pigeons. So, uh, how big is this loon thing? Like, is it gonna try and peck out our eyes while we sleep?"
"Ray, I assure you that it will not."
"It sounds kinda creepy, Frase. I think it might be rabid."
Fraser bit his lower lip to sifle a laugh. "It's not rabid, Ray. The loon does, indeed, produce a call that some might call eerie, but I assure you we're in no danger."
"Promise?"
"I promise, Ray."
And that was good. Greatness. Good. Because Fraser never promised anything unless he meant it, so Ray closed his eyes and snuggled further into his sleeping bag and tried to ignore the crazy fucking laughing bird.
Suddenly his eyes snapped open. "Fraser? What the fuck is that?"
"Ceryle alcyon."
"In English, Fraser."
"It's a belted kingfisher. Honestly, Ray, I will let you know if any of the sounds you hear belong to anything even remotely dangerous."
Due South, FK in Florida
"This, Fraser," I said as I stretched out my arms and let them float, "this is the life."
"I do hope you're wearing sunblock," Fraser said from the side of the pool.
"I put some 8 on this morning."
I heard him sigh. "Honestly, Ray. Considering the intensity of the sun, the reflection of its rays off the surface of the water, and the fairness of your skin, you really should be wearing a sunblock with a protection rating of at least 30."
"Fraser, do not kill my buzz."
"I'm merely trying to prevent a painful sunburn, not to mention lessen the possibility of skin cancer later in-"
"Fraser, how much sun is there at home right now?"
"Well, none, Ray."
"Exactly. Exactly, Fraser. There is no sun at home." I turned my head on the float and looked at Stella who was sunning herself on a float identical to mine. "That's not an exaggeration, either, Stel. No sun. None. Total darkness all day long."
Stella wrinkled her nose.
"So let me enjoy the sun," I said, closing my eyes behind my sunglasses again. "Let me enjoy the fact that I am lying here in a beautiful pool on a beautiful day with the sun on my skin and no chance of frostbite. Can you let me enjoy that?"
"I'm simply concerned for your heath, Ray."
"Let 'im burn," Vecchio said. "Come on, Frase, help me with the grill. The men can barbecue while the ladies sun themselves in the pool."
"Hey," I said sharply, "this 'lady' has banged your wife more times than you have."
Vecchio made a strangled noise and I watched out of the corner of my eye as Fraser quickly hurried him away from the pool and towards the grill.
"You're terrible, Ray," Stella said as she pushed against my thigh with her foot, making us float away from one another. Her toes were painted the color of coral and her legs were long and tan. She was giving me that look that let me know that she was just trying to be angry but was really amused.
"He started it," I said, grinning at her.
"No sun at all?" she asked. "Not even an hour or two?"
"Not even a minute or two," I told her. "And," I lowered my voice to a whisper, "I put on 45 this morning, just so you know."
She laughed and tipped her face up to the sun. "I should hope so. With as white as you are, you'd burn to a crisp otherwise."
"Yeah, I know. I just like yankin' his chain."
I hadn't wanted to come to Florida. The no sun thing was rough, sure, but I figured that years of no sun would have been better than a week of having to watch Vecchio and Stella make moony eyes at each other. Fraser, of course, had just said, "As you wish, Ray," with one of his quick nods, and I knew he wouldn't bring it up again but that look on his face, the way his eyes got so sad and his mouth got tight…fuck. It only took about half an hour before I told him I'd go. Took me another half an hour to convince him I meant it, and once I finally did his face broke into a smile brighter than the Florida sun times a hundred.
"So, how's the exciting world of bowling treating you?" I asked after a few more minutes of lazing in the sun.
"I'm studying for the Florida bar."
I grinned. That was my girl. Knew she couldn't stay away from the law for long, not even for a guy who wore expensive suits and knew what kind of wine went best with caviar.
"What about you?" she asked. "How's the exciting world of the Arctic treating you?"
"Better than you could ever believe," I said.
She lifted her sunglasses up and squinted at me for a moment. "You really like it up there." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I do."
"And you're happy?"
"Real happy, Stel."
She smiled at me then, a real smile. "I'm glad, Ray," she said. And she meant it. It kind of surprised me. I'd forgotten she could smile like that, hadn't seen it in so long.
Fraser leaned down real quick and licked my shoulder. His expression was smug as he straightened back up. "You put on 45 sunblock this morning, Ray," he said.
"How do you do that?"
"It's quite simple, Ray. The higher a sunblock's protection rating, the higher the concentration of-"
"Fraser."
"Yes, Ray?"
"That was a hypodermic question."
"Hypothetical, Ray."
"Whatever."
"I have a question that is not hypothetical, if I may be so bold as to ask it."
"Shoot."
"Why did you lie about the level of sun protection you had on?"
"Because you're cute when you worry about me," I whispered, giving him my best smoldering look.
He cleared his throat and looked away from me quickly.
"Hey, you're the one going around licking me in public."
"I hardly think a private backyard is-"
"Fraser."
He sighed. He was exacerbated. Exasperated. "Yes, Ray."
"You can lick me anywhere you want. Any time. Any place."
He flicked his thumb over his eyebrow. "Ray," his voice was low, a warning. He was looking over at Vecchio out of the corner of his eye.
"Just sayin', Fraser."
"Hey, Stella," I said, holding the mug of coffee out towards. "You, uh, you think you can take a break from all that studying and talk to me for a minute?"
She looked up at me. She was tapping her pen against her lower lip like she always did when she studied. "Oh, thanks," she said as she saw the coffee. She tipped her head back towards her books.
"It's kind of important," I said. "Like, uh, really important."
She looked up at me again and I could tell her patience was close to shot.
"Hey, I know what you're like when you're studying. You think I'd wake the tiger if I didn't have to?"
That, at least, got me a little smile. "What is it, Ray?"
I cleared my throat and sat down. Rubbed my damp palms on my jeans. Took a deep breath.
"The bar exam is in two weeks, Ray."
"See, OK, here's the thing," I said. "Well, um, Fraser's talking to Vecchio right now and, well, we thought that he'd talk to Vecchio while I talked to you since, uh, even though Vecchio's probably going to tell you what Fraser's telling him right now, it's probably best if you hear it straight from me."
Stella looked worried and she wasn't even trying to hide it. "Are you…? Are you sick, Ray?"
I shook my head quickly. "No. No, I'm fine, Fraser's fine, Dief's fine. Everybody's healthy. I just, um…see, here's the thing…"
I couldn't say it. I'd rehearsed it in my head a hundred times and I couldn't say it. I couldn't even remember what it was I'd rehearsed to say.
I took a deep breath. "This ain't easy to tell you, Stella. I mean, it's not like I'm ashamed, but you know how I am, talking about feelings and stuff."
Her worry evaporated, then, her face just closed up like she was expecting me to tell her I loved her and wanted her to leave Vecchio for me. That actually made me less nervous, since I'd had lots of practice talking to Stella with that look on her face.
"Me and Ben," I said, "Fraser. We're, um, we're partners now. Not just, like, cop type partners, but real partners."
She raised one eyebrow. "What? You're opening a business together and you want legal advice?"
"No. No, not…jeez, Stella. OK, see, I didn't expect this or nothing, but it happened, right? It happened that me and Ben became, well, we're real partners now. Life partners."
"L-life partners?"
"I love him. I'm in love with him." Whew. I'd said it twice in a row. "And he loves me, too. We're not just, you know, running around up there in the arctic. We're, uh, we're making a life. Together. Him and me."
And then she laughed. It was a quick laugh, slipping out before she could catch it. She clapped her hand to her mouth.
Benton Fraser was cold. He was extremely cold, which was silly because it was Chicago in the middle of July and he didn't even get cold back home in the middle of July. He sighed. Home. What he wouldn't give to hear the thunder of caribou hooves as they raced across the tundra, feel the icy fingers of hypothermia creeping up his toes…
Actually, he was cold enough that he could almost pretend it was hypothermia. He'd have to thank Inspector Thatcher for insisting upon cranking up the air conditioner over the weekend so that her office would be cool come Monday morning. He'd tried to explain to her that it was quite unnecessary, not to mention ecologically unsound, but she had insisted, and as he lay there on his cot wrapped in every blanket he owned, he realized that she had been right. It was actually almost pleasant, especially if he closed his eyes and imagined that he was lying on his cot in the cabin in the middle of winter.
"Sir? Sir? Constable Fraser, sir?"
That was odd. Who would come all the way out to the cabin in the middle of winter?
"This isn't meant as a criticism, sir, but it's nearly nine o'clock in the morning. I fear Inspector Thatcher won't be pleased when she discovers that you've slept in, sir. Sir?"
He kept his eyes closed. Whoever it was could wait. He was tired and his muscles ached. He didn't remember what he'd done the day before, but doubtless it had been something quite exhausting. Perhaps he'd re-shingled the roof and chopped enough firewood for the entire winter, and then gotten into a brawl with a man three times his size. Not that he knew for sure, but that felt about right.
"Sir? Can you come out from under the blankets now, sir?"
Well, that was just ridiculous. It had to be 50 below out there, and George and Martha's boy, Benton, was no fool. He knew very well that proper coverage prevented…no, that wasn't right. That was…that was something else entirely. Proper…proper something, at any rate. It wasn't important.
His visitor reached beneath the blankets to touch his forehead, and then began to make a noise that sounded very much like the wail of a frightened sea otter. Yes, indeed, he was home at last.
**********
Fraser opened his eyes, blinked a few times against the bright light as he tried to determine where he was.
Ray shook his head and exhaled loudly through his nostrils, then turned and stalked to the end of the bed, turned and stalked back, breath coming hard. He brought to mind a bull about to charge, though Fraser knew better than to mention that.
Ray was very angry, that much he knew. Ray was so angry he couldn't even speak. Fraser watched him turn and stalk away again, shake his shoulders out, take several deep breaths.
He didn't know what he'd done to make Ray so angry, but it had to be something very bad. He tried to remember how he'd ended up in hospital, but the last thing he remembered was fixing a pot of bark tea for his cough and settling down on his cot for a night of solitude and reading.
"Ray?" He cleared his throat. His voice was weak and he had to try again, "Ray?"
"Only you, Fraser," Ray said, turning and stalking back up to Fraser's side. "Normal people get colds. Normal people get bronchitis. Normal people get normal pneumonia, but not you, oh, no. You, you gotta go that extra mile and get freaking Legionnaires' disease. You can't just come down with something common, can you?"
Fraser blinked several times. "Oh, dear," he said.
"You bet your ass oh, dear," Ray snapped.
"I…the first thing we must do, Ray, is to identify the source of the bacteria. Legionella pneumophila can be quite harmful, and who knows how many people can become infected? In fact, the disease itself is named for a group of American Legi-"
"I know, Fraser, I'm a freaking Legionnaires' disease encyclopedia after all this."
"The source is most likely a pool of warm water, perhaps a hot tub or hot water tank."
"Or maybe a cooling tower for a large air-conditioning system?" Ray asked as he raked his fingers through his hair.
"Yes, exactly! What we must do is-"
"Fraser, jeez, I'm not being, like, symbolic or anything when I say it could be a cooling tower. It was a cooling tower. It was the cooling tower for the Consulate's air-conditioning system."
"Oh. Has the CDC been notified?"
"Yeah." He sighed and seemed to deflate as he sat in the chair by the side of Fraser's bed. "Yeah, it's all been taken care of Frase. I guess I should have started out telling you that, knowing the way you are."
"The way I am?"
"Always worried about everybody else. I just…" Ray closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. "You scared the shit out of me, that's all."
"Why?"
Ray's eyes popped open. "Because you almost died, freak."
"I did?"
"No, having a fever of 107 and being in a fucking coma for a week made you the fucking picture of health," Ray said as he glared at Fraser. "You were having fucking hallucinations, you were so peachy."
"There's no need to shout at me, Ray."
"I'm not shouting. If you want shouting, I'll give you shouting-"
"I'm sorry, Ray. I didn't mean to upset you."
Ray sighed once more. "I'm not…I mean you didn't…you got nothing to apologize for. I just, you know, I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do anything at all except spin my wheels and this chair isn't very comfortable and sleeping in it gives me a crick in my neck, you know?"
"Understood," Fraser said with a nod that started his head throbbing. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply, but his chest ached even more than his head. "How high did you say my fever was?"
"107," Ray said, and Fraser could hear him scooting the chair closer to the edge of the bed. "That's 41.7 in Canadian, by the way. I asked because I thought you might want to know."
"Thank you, Ray."
"Yeah, well. It wasn't that high for very long, but everybody was freaking out about it."
"I can imagine."
"I assure you I'm quite able to-"
"It's a rule, Fraser," Ray said as he tapped the back of the wheelchair. "Doesn't matter if you can walk or not, you come in on a stretcher, you leave in a wheelchair. It's in the manual."
Fraser looked from Ray to the nurse, who nodded. "All right then," he said as he lowered himself into the wheelchair. It felt better than it should to not have to hold himself up any longer than necessary. "Though I assure you I'm quite capable of walking."
"We know," Ray said.
{Fraser stays at Ray's apt while recovering but won't stay in bed and Ray comes home to find him collapsed on the floor}
"Oh, that is it," Ray said as he leaned over Fraser. "That is it, mister. I didn't want to have to do this, but you're leaving me no choice. I'm sorry, and this is gonna hurt me more than it'll hurt you, but it's gotta be done."
Ray's speech made Fraser anticipate getting kicked in the head. He was in a perfect position for it, after all. Instead, Ray squatted down and helped him up off the floor, then supported him as they walked back to the couch. He wanted to ask just what his punishment was supposed to be, but he was so tired, so warm, so comfortable, that as Ray tucked the blankets in around him he couldn't get a single word out before he fell asleep.
He awoke to Ray's voice. It seemed muffled, then he realized that the covers were pulled up around his ears. He pushed them down and he could hear Ray plainly despite the fact that he was whispering.
"He's driving me nuts. He's in a coma for a week, he's got the nastiest form on pneumonia there is, he's so weak he can't even make it across the living room, and he still won't listen to a word I say."
"Poor dear." The woman's voice made Fraser open his eyes. Though he'd only met her once, he was quite sure
"Here, I made you some tea," she said, sitting on the edge of the coffee table with a mug in her hands. Fraser reached for it, but she moved it away from his hands and raised it to his lips. It was a bit awkward, but he sipped from it as she tipped it gently, then had to force himself not to make a face.
"That's, um," he said, "it's quite sweet."
Barbara smiled and patted his hand. "It's the raspberry syrup, it'll help you get better. Now, open up for one more sip like a big boy."
Fraser did as he was told, staring daggers at Ray who was silently laughing and pointing from the kitchen.
"Stanley," Barbara said over her shoulder. "I'd appreciate it if you'd go down to the car and bring up the coolers before you go to work."
"You know," Ray said with a sigh as he set the coolers down on his kitchen table. "I'd complain about hauling all of this up three flights of stairs, but I won't. You know why?"
"Because you know what's in them," Barbara said as she pressed the back of her hand to Fraser's forehead.
"Exactly." He grinned at Fraser. "You, my friend, are in for a treat. You know that saying starve a fever, feed a cold? In my family, that's heresy. Feed a fever, feed a cold, feed a cough, feed a sniffle, feed a sprained ankle, feed a knife wound, feed Legionnaires' disease. Oooh, sledzie w smietanie, makes it feel like Christmas. You'll like this, Fraser, it's herring. He grew up eating stuff like blubber and lichen, Mum, so the herring will be a big hit."
"Blubber and lichen, hmm?" Barbara asked. "How did your mother prepare that?"
"Ah, well, actually, my mother passed away when I was six, so I'm afraid her recipes have been lost to me."
Barbara's eyes had gone huge. "Six years old?" she asked. "You haven't had a mother since you were six years old? Oh, you poor darling."
He cleared his throat. "Well, I was raised by my grandparents, and my grandmother was quite-"
"They were traveling librarians," Ray cut in. "They moved around a lot so he never got to go to school and make friends. He never got a bike or a baseball glove or anything-just books. His grandma used to put a bowl upside-down on his head and just cut around it when he needed a trim. Also, I don't think she hugged him very much."
Fraser couldn't ever remember telling Ray about the bowl cuts or the hugs. He would have accused Ray of making things up if he hadn't been correct.
Ray grinned as he settled down with his bowl of bigos. "I was wrong there, Fraser. That actually hurt you more than it hurt me."
Fraser nodded as he slowly picked his bowl up off the coffee table and pulled it towards him, letting it rest against his chest. "Ray, I'm 34 years old and your mother asked me if I needed to use the potty."
Ray laughed and took another bite of bigos.
"And I can't be sure, but I think she may have started formal adoption proceedings."
Due South, F/K camping
"Fraser? Fraser. Fraser? Fraser, buddy, you awake? Fraser? Fraser. Fraser?" Ray whispered as he slowly inched his sleeping back closer to Fraser's. "Hey. You awake?"
"I don't see how I could be otherwise, Ray."
"Fraser, tell me that's not, like, a maniac ghost or something I'm hearing."
"A maniac…?" Fraser snorted. "Ray, I believe what you're referring to is the alarm call of Gavia immer."
"Gava what now? What's that? Is it gonna try and eat us, Fraser, cuz it sounds way too happy for this late and night. And a little crazy. Please, Fraser, tell me it's not going to eat us."
"It's not going to eat us, Ray."
"You sure? You're not just saying that?"
Fraser sighed. "It's a loon, Ray. A common loon. Honestly. One would think you would be familiar with the call considering that you grew up on one of the Great Lakes."
"I grew up in Chicago, Fraser. The lake's just there to make it colder when the wind blows. The only birds I know are pigeons. So, uh, how big is this loon thing? Like, is it gonna try and peck out our eyes while we sleep?"
"Ray, I assure you that it will not."
"It sounds kinda creepy, Frase. I think it might be rabid."
Fraser bit his lower lip to sifle a laugh. "It's not rabid, Ray. The loon does, indeed, produce a call that some might call eerie, but I assure you we're in no danger."
"Promise?"
"I promise, Ray."
And that was good. Greatness. Good. Because Fraser never promised anything unless he meant it, so Ray closed his eyes and snuggled further into his sleeping bag and tried to ignore the crazy fucking laughing bird.
Suddenly his eyes snapped open. "Fraser? What the fuck is that?"
"Ceryle alcyon."
"In English, Fraser."
"It's a belted kingfisher. Honestly, Ray, I will let you know if any of the sounds you hear belong to anything even remotely dangerous."
Due South, FK in Florida
"This, Fraser," I said as I stretched out my arms and let them float, "this is the life."
"I do hope you're wearing sunblock," Fraser said from the side of the pool.
"I put some 8 on this morning."
I heard him sigh. "Honestly, Ray. Considering the intensity of the sun, the reflection of its rays off the surface of the water, and the fairness of your skin, you really should be wearing a sunblock with a protection rating of at least 30."
"Fraser, do not kill my buzz."
"I'm merely trying to prevent a painful sunburn, not to mention lessen the possibility of skin cancer later in-"
"Fraser, how much sun is there at home right now?"
"Well, none, Ray."
"Exactly. Exactly, Fraser. There is no sun at home." I turned my head on the float and looked at Stella who was sunning herself on a float identical to mine. "That's not an exaggeration, either, Stel. No sun. None. Total darkness all day long."
Stella wrinkled her nose.
"So let me enjoy the sun," I said, closing my eyes behind my sunglasses again. "Let me enjoy the fact that I am lying here in a beautiful pool on a beautiful day with the sun on my skin and no chance of frostbite. Can you let me enjoy that?"
"I'm simply concerned for your heath, Ray."
"Let 'im burn," Vecchio said. "Come on, Frase, help me with the grill. The men can barbecue while the ladies sun themselves in the pool."
"Hey," I said sharply, "this 'lady' has banged your wife more times than you have."
Vecchio made a strangled noise and I watched out of the corner of my eye as Fraser quickly hurried him away from the pool and towards the grill.
"You're terrible, Ray," Stella said as she pushed against my thigh with her foot, making us float away from one another. Her toes were painted the color of coral and her legs were long and tan. She was giving me that look that let me know that she was just trying to be angry but was really amused.
"He started it," I said, grinning at her.
"No sun at all?" she asked. "Not even an hour or two?"
"Not even a minute or two," I told her. "And," I lowered my voice to a whisper, "I put on 45 this morning, just so you know."
She laughed and tipped her face up to the sun. "I should hope so. With as white as you are, you'd burn to a crisp otherwise."
"Yeah, I know. I just like yankin' his chain."
I hadn't wanted to come to Florida. The no sun thing was rough, sure, but I figured that years of no sun would have been better than a week of having to watch Vecchio and Stella make moony eyes at each other. Fraser, of course, had just said, "As you wish, Ray," with one of his quick nods, and I knew he wouldn't bring it up again but that look on his face, the way his eyes got so sad and his mouth got tight…fuck. It only took about half an hour before I told him I'd go. Took me another half an hour to convince him I meant it, and once I finally did his face broke into a smile brighter than the Florida sun times a hundred.
"So, how's the exciting world of bowling treating you?" I asked after a few more minutes of lazing in the sun.
"I'm studying for the Florida bar."
I grinned. That was my girl. Knew she couldn't stay away from the law for long, not even for a guy who wore expensive suits and knew what kind of wine went best with caviar.
"What about you?" she asked. "How's the exciting world of the Arctic treating you?"
"Better than you could ever believe," I said.
She lifted her sunglasses up and squinted at me for a moment. "You really like it up there." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I do."
"And you're happy?"
"Real happy, Stel."
She smiled at me then, a real smile. "I'm glad, Ray," she said. And she meant it. It kind of surprised me. I'd forgotten she could smile like that, hadn't seen it in so long.
Fraser leaned down real quick and licked my shoulder. His expression was smug as he straightened back up. "You put on 45 sunblock this morning, Ray," he said.
"How do you do that?"
"It's quite simple, Ray. The higher a sunblock's protection rating, the higher the concentration of-"
"Fraser."
"Yes, Ray?"
"That was a hypodermic question."
"Hypothetical, Ray."
"Whatever."
"I have a question that is not hypothetical, if I may be so bold as to ask it."
"Shoot."
"Why did you lie about the level of sun protection you had on?"
"Because you're cute when you worry about me," I whispered, giving him my best smoldering look.
He cleared his throat and looked away from me quickly.
"Hey, you're the one going around licking me in public."
"I hardly think a private backyard is-"
"Fraser."
He sighed. He was exacerbated. Exasperated. "Yes, Ray."
"You can lick me anywhere you want. Any time. Any place."
He flicked his thumb over his eyebrow. "Ray," his voice was low, a warning. He was looking over at Vecchio out of the corner of his eye.
"Just sayin', Fraser."
"Hey, Stella," I said, holding the mug of coffee out towards. "You, uh, you think you can take a break from all that studying and talk to me for a minute?"
She looked up at me. She was tapping her pen against her lower lip like she always did when she studied. "Oh, thanks," she said as she saw the coffee. She tipped her head back towards her books.
"It's kind of important," I said. "Like, uh, really important."
She looked up at me again and I could tell her patience was close to shot.
"Hey, I know what you're like when you're studying. You think I'd wake the tiger if I didn't have to?"
That, at least, got me a little smile. "What is it, Ray?"
I cleared my throat and sat down. Rubbed my damp palms on my jeans. Took a deep breath.
"The bar exam is in two weeks, Ray."
"See, OK, here's the thing," I said. "Well, um, Fraser's talking to Vecchio right now and, well, we thought that he'd talk to Vecchio while I talked to you since, uh, even though Vecchio's probably going to tell you what Fraser's telling him right now, it's probably best if you hear it straight from me."
Stella looked worried and she wasn't even trying to hide it. "Are you…? Are you sick, Ray?"
I shook my head quickly. "No. No, I'm fine, Fraser's fine, Dief's fine. Everybody's healthy. I just, um…see, here's the thing…"
I couldn't say it. I'd rehearsed it in my head a hundred times and I couldn't say it. I couldn't even remember what it was I'd rehearsed to say.
I took a deep breath. "This ain't easy to tell you, Stella. I mean, it's not like I'm ashamed, but you know how I am, talking about feelings and stuff."
Her worry evaporated, then, her face just closed up like she was expecting me to tell her I loved her and wanted her to leave Vecchio for me. That actually made me less nervous, since I'd had lots of practice talking to Stella with that look on her face.
"Me and Ben," I said, "Fraser. We're, um, we're partners now. Not just, like, cop type partners, but real partners."
She raised one eyebrow. "What? You're opening a business together and you want legal advice?"
"No. No, not…jeez, Stella. OK, see, I didn't expect this or nothing, but it happened, right? It happened that me and Ben became, well, we're real partners now. Life partners."
"L-life partners?"
"I love him. I'm in love with him." Whew. I'd said it twice in a row. "And he loves me, too. We're not just, you know, running around up there in the arctic. We're, uh, we're making a life. Together. Him and me."
And then she laughed. It was a quick laugh, slipping out before she could catch it. She clapped her hand to her mouth.