Five challenge
Title: Five Times Ray Kowalski Tried To Make Someone Feel At Home (Even If It Didn’t Always Work)
Author: leafy22
Characters and pairing: Mainly F/K
Notes: Thanks to the wonderful kill_claudiofor the beta - and the IT support! About 2300 words.
ETA - vsee recorded a podfic of this story which can be found here.
Five Times Ray Kowalski Tried To Make Someone Feel At Home (Even If It Didn’t Always Work)
1. Stella
Ray got home at lunchtime, grateful he’d have all afternoon to change back into himself. He’d stayed away during this case and although that was kind of depressing, immersing yourself completely in the life of a drug dealer, it was easier than trying to turn it on and off every day. Undercover gigs in Narcotics were the worst, spending all that time with people whose lives were completely miserable and fucked up and you couldn’t always shake it off you straight away. The last time he’d been on a case like this he’d really snarled at Stella one night over something petty, something stupid. Her eyes had widened and she’d taken a step back away from him before she’d told him in her coldest voice never to bring his low-life alter egos home with him again.
On this particular afternoon he sat in the kitchen, slowly drinking his coffee and grounding himself amongst familiar things. After the week he’d had, even Stella’s godawful abstract art print coffee mugs were a welcome sight.
Ray showered until the hot water ran out and then for another minute just to be sure he was really clean. He wrapped a towel around his hips and went into the bedroom to dress. The new shirt Stella had bought for him a couple of weeks ago was hanging on the back of the door. He picked it up, running his fingers along the crisp folds at the top of the shoulders and down the sleeves. It was okay, kind of trendy but a bit sharper than he really went for, however sharp Stella might look these days. He hung the shirt back up and looked in the closet shelves.
Right at the back, he found what he was looking for - an old blue t-shirt, faded and soft after years of washes and wears. Ray had worn this t-shirt on the first two holidays he and Stella had taken when they were newly married. He’d had some sandy-coloured cut-off shorts he often wore with it and they used to joke that the outfit made him look like a walking beach - maybe he should have known even then that he’d end up undercover. The shorts were long gone and he wasn’t sure they’d ever done his skinny legs any favours anyway but he pulled the comfortable old t-shirt on. As soon as Stella saw him in it he knew she would recognise him, know she’d come home to him. She would know straight away she wasn’t with the sad loser he had been this week. He was just Ray, the real Ray, her one-and-only Ray.
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2. Frannie
Ray invited Frannie over because he thought it would be a good idea to get to know her, help with the whole undercover thing, plus she was kind of pretty too. He wondered about cooking something, but that would be over the top and he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard. In the end he decided to buy a bottle of Italian wine and offer her a drink, just play it nice and casual. Trouble was, he wasn’t much of a wine drinker and he spent fifteen minutes wandering up and down the rows and rows of bottles in the store trying to choose something. Eventually he started watching the other customers for clues, and got lucky when a woman who looked a bit like a not-naturally-blonde Frannie came in. She scanned the shelves with intent before picking up a bottle of red wine. He waited a moment, then picked out the same bottle.
He poured out two glasses and he and Frannie sat down on the sofa together. He wasn’t sure whether or not the wine was any good. It was dark red and felt soft in his mouth but it had a weird kind of after-taste and he didn’t know if it was supposed to. He looked over at Frannie and nodded and smiled at her as she took a sip and put her glass down on the coffee table. When she cautiously nodded and smiled back he wondered if maybe she didn’t know whether or not it was good wine either.
It wasn’t just the wine that was weird though - it was the whole evening. He was a good judge of character, he had good instincts about people but Frannie confused the hell out of him. He didn’t know what to say to her and he didn’t know what to do with her. He couldn’t work out what he wanted to be - brother or boyfriend? - but luckily Frannie could keep a conversation going without help from anyone else so he had plenty of time to argue about it with himself in his head. They had an awkward cheek-lips-‘what’s going on here?’ goodbye kiss and after he closed the front door he leant on it, breathing out a long breath of confusion and relief. He walked back to the sofa and sat down, looking at the two full glasses of wine still on the coffee table.
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3. Fraser
Ray had told Fraser he loved him like a brother but a few weeks later, when they were once again in his apartment, he knew for certain that his feelings were a lot more than brotherly. He’d had a pretty graphic dream about Fraser the night before which kept replaying whenever Fraser was around, making him feel awkward and flustered.
Fraser had talked the entire car journey from the station and Ray tried as hard as he could to tune out The ‘Oh-yes-Ray-all-over-me’ Fraser and pay attention to The Real Fraser who was talking about the longest time he’d ever spent alone on patrol back in the Northern Areas. When Ray finally started listening properly he noticed there was something quieter than usual, something thoughtful about Fraser’s voice. He thought maybe Fraser was really missing being out in the cold and the snow, so as soon as they got into the apartment he went round and opened all the windows in the main room. Fraser was standing in the small kitchen, in front of the fridge. Ray opened the fridge door as wide as it would go and continued walking over to the sink.
Fraser looked around the apartment and frowned. “Ray, I have to ask, why are you wasting so much energy? I don’t mean to criticise, but having the heating on and the windows wide open, well, it doesn’t...”
“Wanted some fresh air. Hot. You’re ... I’m...hot...aren’t you hot?”
“Actually, Ray, I’m a little chilly.” Fraser closed the fridge door and moved over to the window near the television, reaching up to close it. “May I?”
Ray felt foolish as he nodded a “Yeah” at Fraser and finished filling the kettle. Since when had freezing someone to death been a way of making them feel welcome? He took a deep breath and tried a more traditional approach.
“You want a drink, Frase? Coffee? Or I think I’ve got some tea back here somewhere.”
He turned round as Fraser was walking back into the kitchen. Fraser stopped in front of Ray and gave him a smile that made Ray’s knees feel heavy.
“Tea would be lovely, Ray. Thank you kindly.”
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4. His dad
His mom would be fine - she could make herself at home anywhere - but Ray was nervous about his dad coming over too. They’d had enough difficult conversations in the past for Ray not to want any more. As he thought about it, Ray realised he and his dad had had their best ever talks while they’d been working on the GTO so...what he needed was a distraction, something for his dad to do with his hands.
Years of interrogating suspects had taught Ray that people talked much more easily once they had something - a pen, a toothpick, a rubber band, a piece of paper, anything really - to keep their hands busy. Hell, Ray knew it worked on himself. Put a steering wheel in his hands and he would tell anybody anything - sometimes people heard him and sometimes they didn’t. Working on the car would be ideal but he didn’t really want to do that out on the street with his mom hanging about in the cold. He decided he would get the bike down and ‘just happen to be giving it a service’ when his folks arrived. He knew his dad wouldn’t be able to resist stripping down the gears and adjusting nuts and bolts and brakes.
Pleased with his plan of action, he decided to loosen up, shake off some of his tension with a few moves around the apartment. He searched through his record collection until he found exactly what he was looking for, then laid the record on the turntable, lifted the arm...and nothing. Nothing happened. Nothing moved.
Half an hour later, Ray had checked the power, checked all the switches and used four different screwdrivers to take the casing off the turntable when he heard a knock at the door. Shit, his parents were here already and he hadn’t got the bike down, got anything out...but maybe he didn’t need to. Here was a nice little mechanical problem all laid out for him - and his dad.
His dad had got straight into trying to mend the turntable with the words “a motor is a just motor, son” and they’d had the chance to work together, help each other and roll their eyes at each other when his mom had complained about each of their waist measurements - one too large and the other too small. During their visit Ray had to be careful what he told his parents, particularly about work, but he listened as his mom talked and his dad chipped in more and more until he took over telling Ray all the latest family news and Arizona stories.
The turntable was fixed by the time Ray’s parents left but that was just a bonus, really.
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5. Fraser again
They’d been living in their new place just out of town, their own place - their place - for two weeks and six days before Ray had the chance to get home before Fraser. Usually they came home together - by the time Ray got done at the Sports Centre and walked over to the detachment Fraser was generally wrapping up his shift too - but today he was finishing early and Fraser was working late so Ray was already home and waiting for him. He’d didn’t mind. He’d wanted to welcome Fraser home for a while.
One evening, when they’d still been at the RCMP quarters in town, Ray had been working late learning to clean and check the swimming pool water. He’d opened their front door and sung out “Hi, Honey, I’m ho-ome” and Fraser had come out of the bedroom to greet him, shaking his head and grinning wildly.
“So I see.” Fraser was practically giggling at him. “I wasn’t aware people actually used that phrase.” He was smiling so much that it was almost a minute before Ray thought that he’d got a really proper kiss from him. Fraser had still been amused as they’d got ready for bed and although Ray had been about three giggles away from getting annoyed about it he was kind of curious too.
“That really tickled you, didn’t it?” he’d asked as he’d got into bed and settled in Fraser’s arms. “Why did it get to you like that?”
He’d felt Fraser take a breath before he said, “I don’t know. I suppose nobody...”. Fraser had sat up a bit and looked around to see if Dief had been nearby, before shifting back down and making sure Ray was comfortable again. “I suppose nobody’s ever come home to me before.”
Ray had craned his head up and kissed all the bits of Fraser’s jaw he could reach before tightening his arm around Fraser’s chest. He’d felt Fraser’s returning ‘mmm’ and a kiss on the top of his head and they had fallen asleep like that, holding, almost squeezing, each other.
Ray had thought a lot about what Fraser had said. It followed that if nobody had ever gone home to Fraser, Fraser had never gone home to anybody either and that made Ray feel ridiculously sad for him.
Tonight while he waited for Fraser he got the fire going in the fireplace. It was barely just cold enough outside to justify a fire, but a fire wasn’t only about heating the house. It was a reminder of campfires, of long nights spent together, of a quest which had tested, deepened and secured their partnership. The days and nights may have been cold but the memories, like the fire, were warm.
He decided not to put any music on, because you could never quite be sure what music, if any, Fraser wanted to hear on any particular day so he got out Fraser’s favourite mug and the tea canister, poked at the fire some more and then sat back on the couch to watch the flames dance. The warmth made him feel drowsy and he dozed until he felt Fraser sit down on the couch next to him.
“Hello, Ray.”
Ray’s eyes flew open and he tried to sit up, get up, but Fraser was settling his weight against him and leaning in to kiss him. Ray returned the kiss and said, “I’ve got the fire going. And there’s tea. Do you want tea?”
“In a while, perhaps”, Fraser murmured as his lips covered Ray’s again. Ray was really getting into it - he had one hand ruffling the hair at the back of Fraser’s neck and the other working on Fraser’s coat buttons - when Fraser suddenly stopped the kiss and said “Ray, before we go any further, there’s something I have to say.” Ray watched, holding his breath - and when it happened it was funny because Fraser didn’t put on any kind of voice, he just spoke as he usually did, gently, softly, sincerely - “Hi, Honey, I’m home.” Ray’s easy laughter joined with Fraser’s as he lay back and pulled Fraser further down on top of him.
“Yes. Yes you are”, he said as he kissed him again.