Title: Disarray

Pairing: BF/RK

Rating: PG13? - bad words, impliedm/m relationship

Disclaimer: Not mine and I *am*bitter.

Spoilers: Lots for Good for theSoul

Notes/Summary: Good for the Soulraised all sorts of questions in my head. This is the result oftrying to answer some of them. Many thanks to Kasha for wieldinga very fine focus whip, to Megan for beating this into shape andalso to Maxine for support at just the right time.

Any comments etc tonecessary_angel@yahoo.com

Disarray

by

necessary angel

The light finally changed and Raypowered the GTO into the line of crawling traffic ahead. Justgreat, where did all these people come from just beforeChristmas, anyway? Were they cloned specially? Fuck! Ray resistedthe temptation to lean on the horn and resigned himself towaiting until he could peel off and take a quieter route to the Consulate.

He’d finally managed to getfree of the 2-7 and play a flying visit to his parents. Luckily,Mum had been too full of plans for Christmas with his brother tomake him stay for dinner. He could catch a bite to eat with Ben,and work out the Warfield mess at the same time.

Well, maybe not the last one.

The Mountie was definitely flyingfree on this one. Not that that was entirely unexpected, not fromFraser, but even so this had to rate highest on the zealometer.

Things had been going well beforeBen’s hyper alert conscience had prodded him into action.Ben had been surprisingly relaxed even though he wasn’tactually buying anything. The time away from the seasonal hassleshad been what they needed, what Ben had needed.

The log thing…well, Raysuspected that was just Ben’s way of upping the ante afterthe ray gun. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

Then Warfield’s raised voicehad zapped Ben back into Mountie mode. Ray had watched it go froma bad mannered spat to Warfield throwing his weight around andsmacking the poor kid. Fraser, of course, had found himself onthe wrong side of yet another gun. This time in the middle of afucking mall with only about a million people trying to getChristmas done.

Ray sighed and smacked thesteering wheel.

Jesus Christ.

Just once he’d like hispartner to…. Of course, Fraze had no idea *who* he wasdealing with, and it would have made no difference in any case.And now they had a pissed off mob boss with the human equivalentof a wolf after doughnuts on his case.

Except there was nothing to workwith, and maybe now Fraser would listen to a little reason.

The whole thing sucked.

Guys like Warfield made Ray wantto really kick ‘em in the head, but even he knew thatdidn’t help. You had to work it until you got them wrappedup so tight that their high price lawyers couldn’t cut themfree.

The traffic lurched into life, andRay took his chance to move out of the chaos and actually getsomewhere near the Consulate.

At last he slid into his normalparking place and bounded up the steps and thumped on the door.

"Ah, Detective Vecchio.Please come in."

"Where’s Fraze?"

"I had thought he was withyou, Sir. He left about an hour ago, saying that he might backlate."

"Did he…? Forget it. Iknow where he is."

"Can I be of any…."Turnbull’s voice followed Ray as he sprinted for the car.

Of all the stupid fucking stuntsto pull. Ray should have guessed Fraser would do this. After all,he’d tried at the Station House, before Welsh had stamped onit.

Fuck it.

Ray gunned the GTO and hoped thathis partner hadn’t managed to get into the club yet. Hecould still head this off at the pass.

************************************************************

It was very late when Frasereventually returned to the Consulate. Frank would be safe withhis sister, or as safe as he could be expected to be. He couldunderstand Frank backing out; Frank was an elderly man, andWarfield was intimidating to say the very least. Still, thoughFraser couldn’t stop himself wishing that Frank would staythe course.

Ray had arrived in the nick oftime earlier. Fraser was spoiled, unused to walking into thingsalone. His years in Chicago had made him soft, not as soft asDief, but it was still damaging. He was handling this situationwith all the finesse of … perhaps that was just as well,Fraser doubted that Warfield would pay any more attention tofinesse than Diefenbaker would.

Somehow, even though Ray had drawnthe lines in bold colors for him after the first encounter withWarfield, he hadn’t paid attention. It was foolish. Fraserhad gotten very used to Ray following him into situations thathis partner had doubts about. They sometimes argued and debatedthe points beforehand, and certainly afterwards, but Ray usuallyput aside his misgivings. This time he hadn’t, and Frasercouldn’t repress the ache that had given him.

But Ray had come to find him, andhad backed him up loudly and insistently to Lieutenant Welsh andMs. Kowalski. That had eased the ache somewhat, but had donelittle to actually forward the situation in the right direction.

Some paths were indeed solitary.His father had been right about that, despite the unsatisfactorynature of their latest encounter. Not that their encounters wereever anything other than frustrating and unsatisfactory.

"Ah Constable Fraser, I wasbeginning to become concerned." Turnbull rose from his seatbehind the reception desk with little of his usual fumbling.

"No need for that. "Fraser cracked his neck. "Is all well?"

"No trouble at all. Tommy, adelightful young man by the way, is asleep in your office. AndDetective Vecchio is waiting for you in the parlour."

"I see. Thank you, Turnbull.And you may go now, if you wish."

"Sir. I’ve a few mattersto attend to here, and if I am not mistaken, you haven’teaten this evening."

"You needn’ttrouble…"

"Fraze!"

Ray’s impatient voice draggedFraser’s attention to the parlour doorway where his partnerleant against the doorway, frowning.

"Excuse me."

"Of course."

Fraser followed Ray into theparlour and shut the door. He leant back against the wood with alittle sigh. It felt good to actually stop moving.

Ray was pacing and muttering tohimself, and for once Fraser didn’t make the effort to tryand pick up what he was saying.

"It’s going to do nogood to yell at ya for going after Frank alone like that, isit?" Ray had finally stopped moving and was facing him.

Fraser shook his head and felt hismouth quirk in response to the rueful expression creasing hispartner’s face.

"Thick-headedCanadians."

A mutter Fraser was more than surehe was supposed to pick up on but chose instead to ignore.

Ray glared at him and raked a handthrough his almost too long hair. It was taking him much moretime than usual to spike his unruly hair to his satisfaction inthe mornings. Fraser swallowed a smile at the memory of thecurses that had erupted from the bathroom that morning. Ofcourse, that was almost yesterday morning now.

"I tried again with Stel andWelsh after you left." Ray was now slumped to the best ofhis ability in one of the overstuffed armchairs. "But nodice. You really are on your own with this one."

"Thank you for that Ray but Irealized as much." Fraser forced his shaky legs to move himto the armchair that faced Ray’s seat.

"Is it worth it?" Raywas sitting up now, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Yes it is. To me."

Fraser watched his partnercarefully. There was a note he hadn’t heard before inRay’s voice amongst the frustration and worry.

"And nothing I say, or Welshsays is going to the blindest bit of difference is it?"

Fraser recognized a rhetoricalquestion when he heard one, and this one he wasn’t going toplay with. That note was stronger now: not quite bitterness, notquite dislike, something else that Fraser was too tired todecipher. He swallowed the cold hard lump in his throat and triedto speak.

"Ray, I…."

"Save it Fraze, I getit."

The lump had moved to his stomachand swollen to fill all the available space. "Ray."

Ray’s hand was in the stopposition and Fraser swallowed the rest of his words.

"I do get it. You’reworking it, and all I can do is sit back and wait for theexcrement to hit the air conditioning, right?"

Fraser nodded, not taking his eyesoff the pale set face opposite him.

Ray sighed and shielded his eyesfor a moment with a long fingered hand. "Okay, okay. Just becareful. I doubt that you are going to get anywhere withWarfield, but I know that won’t cut it with you. So I guessI should just save my breath."

Ray sounded more normal now. Resigned, irritated certainly but a wry acceptance had crept intohis expressive voice.

"Ray, I’m sorry."

"No you’re not."Ray was smiling, his eyes glittering in the lamplight.

"Of course…"

Ray was on his feet. "Noyou’re not." He leaned over Fraser, in manner thatshould have been threatening, but there was nothing but amusementand resignation in his eyes. "You just think you shouldbe."

Fraser caught his arm as hispartner tried to move away. Ray glanced at the hand curled aroundhis arm but made no move towards him. He smiled, a stark brightsmile that twisted heat around Fraser's spine.

"Uh, uh I think we both needa little space right now. If we got into it, I might justhandcuff you to that really heavy bit of wood back there andleave you all naked and sweaty for the Ice Queen to findtomorrow."

"You wouldn’t."

Fraser was not quite certain ofthat, despite all the confidence he pushed into his voice. Andthat uncertainty and that smile were stirring his body to lifedespite his exhaustion.

"Oh I would, and I’ve areal busy day tomorrow so getting hold of me would be…"

"In that case…."

"I’d better go."

Ray pulled free of his grasp andgrabbed his overcoat from the stiff-backed settee.

Fraser watched him and returnedthe small grin Ray gave him as he sketched a wave in the doorwayas he left.

The heavy cold feeling had spreadall through him, and even Ray’s resigned acceptance had donenothing to disperse it. Acceptance wasn’t what he wanted atall, despite his knowledge that Ray was working withinlimitations that did not exist for him. No, acceptancedidn’t even come close to what he really wanted.

"Constable Fraser?"Turnbull’s head was poking around the door.

"Yes Ren?" Fraser notedthe quick smile that cracked the genial mask for a moment.

"There’s soup in thekitchen, and I’ve recorded the curling match from earlierthis evening."

"Lead me to it."

Fraser shed his tunic and smiledhis thanks at his now out of uniform colleague. Food and time torelax without thinking about Warfield was just what he neededright now.

***************

"Christmas brings out theworst in people."

Fraser nodded; Ray was right.Christmas was a difficult time for him - he felt as alienated ashe had when he had first arrived in Chicago. He had carved a lifefor himself here, not perhaps the one he might have chosen, but agood life nevertheless. Christmas made him think of home and howdifferent things might be.

Ray gave Fraser one last, longlook as he settled himself in his car. A brief lift of his handand he was gone. It was quiet without Dief whining and whimperingnext to him. Well, as quiet as you could expect a Chicago streetto be during the day.

Fraser found himself whistlingbefore he realised it, whistling the infectious, awful tune thatTurnbull had been playing for days. He had woken with it runningaround his head this morning and it seemed he might be stuck withit for the day. It helped; it filled the sudden space around hisbody.

The last of the anger had fadedvery quickly from his partner’s mercurial face, and it was arelief to reach their present state of stalemate, albeit anunderstanding one. Warfield’s latest move in the game hadaccomplished that much at least.

Fraser shifted his weightslightly, easing the ache in his calf muscles with the adroitnessof long practice. At least he was outside, in what passed forfresh air in Chicago, away from the hectic pre-Christmas scheduleat the Consulate. He had spent very little time and almost nonein daylight away from his official duties in the past week.However dull his present self-appointed task was, it was awelcome respite from what he had left behind on his desk.

He stopped whistling; he wasbeginning to irritate himself. Fraser sighed and surveyed thestreet.

All quiet.

Too quiet.

He would have expected Warfield tohave made his next move by now. The man was not patient orreasonable. There was no reason to assume that he would havegiven up. The pressure on the police department had only been hisopening gambit. What his next one would be was open to question,but Fraser had to assume that it would be more direct than usinghis influence to coerce him into abandoning his post.

Fraser had half expected hisfather to put in an appearance, but he had been remarkablyelusive since the previous evening. Perhaps he shouldn’t besurprised by his father’s vagaries after all this time, butit was disconcerting to be without his father’s advice,however off the point it might prove to be.

Fraser started to move, pacingback and for in front of the entrance. It was a very long timesince he had been on a stakeout completely by himself, and heseemed to have lost the knack for just sinking into thesituation. He couldn’t stop himself listening forDief’s breathing, or the soft creak of Ray’s leatherjacket and the odd little sighs he only ever seemed to make whenthey were on stakeouts. Fraser shook himself. He would have tomake do, and he couldn’t afford to let his concentrationslip like this. He moved back into his previous position and letthe slow rhythm of his breathing take over.

It was starting to get dark now,and Fraser could just catch the muffled sounds as the staffstarted work setting up the club for the night’s business.

********************************

"Fraze. Jesus fucking Christ!What did those sons of bitches…? Fraze!"

Fraser opened his eyes at thesound of Ray’s angry voice. "Ray. I …ugh."His knees shook as he tried to push himself away from his slumpedposition against the wall.

"Ben, stay there. Just staythere." A leather clad hand rested lightly on his shoulder."Take it easy. I’ll call you an ambulance." Theanger was threaded through with worry now.

"Not the hospital."Fraser gasped and tried to breathe through the sharp pain in hischest.

"You have to. They reallymessed you up. Listen to me! You need to see a doctor."

Ray’s tone was as definite asFraser had ever heard it, but he shook his head. He closed hiseyes against the swirl at the edge of his vision and took a deepbreath.

"No, it’s justsuperficial, no hospitals, no doctors. "

He had to stop to breathe betweeneach word, but his voice stayed steady. Another breath and hecould pull himself in a swaying but upright position.

"Here, lean on me.That’s it, buddy. Okay, let’s get you to the 27th. Thatokay?" A soothing tone, but Fraser could still hear theanger underneath.

"Yes. I’m sorryRay."

"About what? You’remaking no sense, Ben. They musta got your thick Canadian skullgood."

Ray shifted his weight slightlyand slipped his arm carefully around Fraser’s back. He wasmuttering under his breath and Fraser could only catch the oddword "Jesus… suck…I shouldn’t…Welsh’s gotta let me…. Warfield…."

"Ray. None… of…us… expected this…."

"We should have done,Warfield’s a fucked up son of a bitch." Ray shook hishead. "C’mon let’s get moving."

Fraser bit his lip as Ray startedsteering them towards the GTO. The stab of his teeth into thesensitive skin kept him alert enough to move, albeit slowly,towards the snow covered vehicle.

"That’s it. Okay, sitdown slowly. That’s it."

Fraser leaned back against theseat and closed his eyes. He could let it go now.

"Hey none of that. You passout on me and we go straight to the hospital. No passing go andno 200 bucks, you hear me?" Ray’s hand tapped lightlyagainst Fraser’s cheek.

"Yes. Yes I hear you."Fraser pushed his eyelids open and looked straight intoRay’s narrowed eyes. He blinked and the blackness retreated.

"Right. Good. Let’s rockand roll. Keep talking to me. One of them everlasting stories ofyours, whatever. You stop talking and we’re changingdestination."

"Understood." Fraserfound a smile from somewhere.

***************************

"You okay?"

Ray sounded as tired as he himselffelt. Fraser lifted his head from the back of the couch. Thestiffness was beginning to set in, in earnest. He was going to bevery sore tomorrow.

They had spent some time dealingwith the results of the raid on Warfield’s night-club. Rayhad urged Fraser to go home, almost insisted on driving him home.It had taken repeated refusals on Fraser’s part to make himdrop the matter. He had needed to see this matter through to theend.

The bitter end.

Clichés exist for a reason….

"Ben, talk to me. Youcan’t sleep there. You’ll feel like hell tomorrow. You*will* anyway but even your cot would be better than…c’mon, Ben!"

"I am… well, fine isdefinitely overstating the case."

"No kidding." Raysnorted and moved closer, perching on the arm of the couch.

Fraser glanced round the dimconfines of Ray’s apartment. It was good to be here. Hehadn’t even considered asking Ray to take him back to theConsulate. He wasn’t working tomorrow. There was the addedadvantage that his father was unlikely to bother him here, andDief would be well cared for by Turnbull. The wolf wouldundoubtedly make him pay, but Fraser was more than used to that.

"Ben?" Ray’s voicewas tentative and he was pinching the bridge of his nose.

Fraser felt the heavy stiffnessmove from his limbs into his stomach and throat. He swallowed andraised an eyebrow.

"I know this ain’t agreat time. You probably just wanna crash. I know I do. But Idon’t want this hanging over us. I learnt that much from themess I made of things with Stella."

Ray was on his feet and pacing.Fraser bit his cheek to swallow his smile; even enervated andrunning on the last gasp of his energy reserves Ray couldn’tstop moving.

"It’s okay Ray."Fraser dug a knuckle into his eyebrow. "I’ve allowedpride and arrogance too free a rein these last few days."

"What?" Ray swung roundand faced Fraser, disbelief vibrating off every tensed muscle.

"Lieutenant Welsh and youwere right."

Fraser winced as he moved into anew position. His stomach had twisted into a hard, cold knot andhis throat felt raw. The only part of him that didn't ache washis head, and that was probably due to slight sensation oflight-headness he was experiencing.

Ray closed his mouth with a snap.Fraser watched anger, pain, and something else he couldn’tfind a label for in time shift across the angular face.Ray’s chest lifted as he pulled in a deep breath.

"We weren’t…!"He stopped and continued more quietly. "We were playingpolitical games and you were…right. We shoulda backed you,and maybe you could sit without feeling every muscle in yourbody. "

"Ray!"

"I shouldn’t have letyou…"

"Ray!"

Fraser began to push himself tohis feet. His movement caught his partner’s attention, andhe stepped forward, his brow creasing. Fraser sank back with alittle grunt.

"I made my choices."Fraser’s voice trailed off and he licked his lips. "Inthe end, what I did made very little difference."

Ray shook his head and resumed hisseat on the arm of the couch. "Made all the difference inthe world." His voice was quiet and thoughtful. Every bit ofhis attention was focused on Fraser.

"Warfield’s a killer,and he’s still a free man. I got a token apology. You knowthat, he knows that, Lieutenant Welsh knows that. Those wordsmeant nothing in the real world." Fraser raised his hand andplaced it on Ray’s thigh.

Ray squeezed his hand and sighed."So, why? Was it worth getting yourself beat six ways toSunday?"

"Perhaps not." Frasershifted again on the couch. Comfortable as Ray’s furniturewas, every muscle in his back was screaming. "I believed itwas, though."

"You mean you knew Warfieldwas gonna beat the crap out of you?" Ray was glaring down athim.

"He made certain threats thismorning. It was a possibility."

"Andyou…you…."

"Made my choice."

Ray stared down at him for a longmoment. "I see. Partners share Fraze.We’ve…."

"You were working withincertain restraints that didn’t apply to me. My lack ofjurisdiction here gives me certain privileges, as well the moreobvious disadvantages."

"We’re going incircles." Ray sighed ruefully. "You do it all again ina heartbeat, wouldn’t you? I just wish…."

"I’m not sure so that Iwould." Fraser rubbed his eyebrow.

Ray blinked and his eyes narrowed."Hmm."

"What does that mean?"

"You tell me."

Fraser raised an eyebrow.

Ray relented, his mouth twistedinto a vague approximation of a smile. "You would do itagain. You couldn’t help yourself."

Fraser looked up at his partner,struck again by how quick to bones of the matter he was; hisinstincts ran true almost every time.

"Possibly."

"Possibly. Huh. Okay,let’s get you in the shower before you set into the shape ofmy couch forever."

"Okay." Fraser acceptedRay's hand and allowed him to pull him to his feet. "Onething, would you change what you did?"

Ray winced, his eyes widening."I shoulda…I shouldn’t have, we're partners, Ishould have pushed it harder."

Fraser paused in his carefulprogress towards the bathroom. "You were doing what youbelieved was right. I couldn't ask you to go against that. No-oneshould."

"And next time?"

"The cards may falldifferently."

**************************

"Warfield got his!"

Ray glanced across at his partner,who sitting in the passenger seat with something pretty close tohis usual military precision.

"Didya hear me?"

Ray muttered curses at the snow,which had started coming down more heavily now that they hadactually left the Station House, and had to be on the roads. Thenhe shot another sideways look at the silent figure next to him.

"Yes, I'm sorry Ray. I didhear you. I was distracted."

Fraser cracked his neck and turnedhis head to look at him. His face was solemn and set, as far ashe could tell in the flickering pattern of the street lighting.

"So, you gotta be pleased. You did that. Did what we've been trying to do for years."

Ray pulled up at a convenient stop light and twisted in his seat so that he could look more directly at his partner.

"Ray, the stoplight."

"Never mind that. You took down Warfield, so what's the deal here?" Ray caught the light change and set the GTO carefully on its way.

"I didn't, as you say, take Warfield down. To be strictly accurate, his accomplices did that."

Fraser's voice was very steady and smooth, but Ray had the sudden sensation he was walking on black ice.

"Yeah, but you were like that butterfly…you know, causing a hurricane in Brazil or whatever."

Ray kept his voice as neutral as he could. Something was ticking over in his partner's mind, and pushing wouldn't help.

"That's not a bad analogy, Ray. I could have done a great deal more harm than I did by my actions."

"What the fuck…?" Ray took a deep breath and eased back on the gas pedal. Taking his anger out on the car was not a good option tonight.

"If I hadn't stepped in, it is entirely possible that Tommy would not have been struck by Warfield."

"Yes, and he'd still be king of the walk. You stepped in. You made the difference when the rest of us were sitting on our hands, pretending that the system and justice are the same thing."

They were at his building, it was Christmas Eve and he was fighting with his lover. No change there, well, except the lover, the building and his life.

"Ray, it turned out well, but I am not sure how much of that is down to me."

Fraser's voice was quiet, almost hesitant, and he was staring straight out at the falling snow.

"Yeah, well, we're back to that circle thing again, because I'm sure that you were the …catalyst."

"Indeed." Fraser was looking at him now. "Ray, I…"

Ray shook his head; this was getting them nowhere. "It's Christmas Eve and I got movies and food. C'mon, let's go up."

End

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