Date: Monday, February 14, 200011:39 PM
2/14/00 - Dear Friends -"History" is a mixture of drama and romance.
Pairing -Fraser/RayKowalski. Archiving - I'd be grateful if KatherineFwould be kind enough to archive this at Hexwood, and if Anagiwould be kind enough to do the same to DSX and/or DIEF. Thankyou. Rating - R for mature themes.
WARNING - Although this isdefinitely a RayKowalski/BenFraser love story, there are otherpairings mentioned, to wit, Fraser/male, RayK/female(s). There isnothing sexual shown, however. Also, another WARNING, attemptedsuicide is shown.
Synopsis - Approximatelyten years post-CotW, Fraser and RayK are still in Canadatogether, but RayK is planning to change that. Dedicated to PaulGross and Callum Keith Rennie, whose performances as BentonFraser and Ray Kowalski never fail to inspire. Thank you kindly,sweet men. Not beta'd, but read-through by Audra, whose commentswere clearly to the point, although I've done little to plug theholes she told me about. I'm just not smart enough. Thanks fortrying, Aud! You're a sweetheart! As always, feedback gratefullyaccepted at maxmayer2@JUNO.com Love, Maxine
"HISTORY"
By Maxine Mayer, 2/13/00
YEAR 2007, CANADA:
He stays close. Always close.
But he never hovers except with goodcause. When I am injured. When I am… hurt in other ways.Then, he hovers, as a good friend might. Perhaps, should….Acceptable hovering, only that.
But essentially, he simply staysclose. However bizarre are the actions he must perform in orderto do so. "Bend and flip and change." That lyric sumsup all the bizarre things Ray Kowalski has done, that he mightstay close. To me….
My friend….
* * *
I am certain he notices, as do I,the changes time has wrought in me.
Sergeant Benton Fraser, R.C.M.P.
Consigned to a desk, for the mostpart, due to injuries, due to aging….
I walk more stiffly than ever, myspine a rigid thing, my skin a tight embrace which holds metogether….
My hair is dark, still, though shotwith gray, and completely silver at my temples.
I've put on weight. Not much. Buttoo much for a hunter. Too much for a mountie who chasescriminals. Too much for a savior of victims.
Ray Kowalski remains as he was theday I met him. Sleek as a greyhound. Wiry and tough and slenderand alive.
In the past, our energies …meshed. Different but complementary.
Now, I could not keep up with Ray,even if my life depended on it. Or his.
* * *
I don't know why I'm thinking aboutthis. What set it off, in my mind.
Perhaps, my birthday.
Fifty. I turned fifty this week.
I know well that I would not havelived to fifty - would have found a way to die when I wasconsigned to a desk a few years back - had Ray not stayed close.
I shiver. My tunic, my boots, mygreatcoat - all a little tight, now - don't seem to warm metonight.
I stare out the window of my smallprivate office and think about Ray.
* * *
It took Ray quite some time, years,to adjust to his new life in Canada. For us to find a modusvivendi in the north. But Ray knew I wanted to stay, wanted to behome, however hard for me it was, to return here. To come"home."
With my tacit gratitude, Ray ignoredhis own difficulties adjusting, subordinating his needs anddesires to mine.
And we thrived.
Found a place to live. Not truenorth. Not true south. A smaller town than Ottawa, a larger townthan any I'd grown up in. So utterly not Chicago that thecomparison couldn't arise, ever.
Found employment for Ray. First, asa private investigator working for another man. Then, as wordspread that Ray Kowalski was the man to hire if you wantedsomething done right, with integrity and dispatch, withoutneedless questions or judgments or criticism, things got easierfor him. He founded his own investigations company, and I helpedhim when I could, with his paperwork, with his bookkeeping, andof course, with his cases.
That idyllic time lasted four years.Then, I was injured. Irreparably. Permanently. And I couldn'thelp any longer with his cases, except with ideas.
Ray didn't miss a beat. Went onalone, successful and respected. As if he'd never needed me atall.
Of course, he had needed me, atfirst. In the past. And then, one day, without warning, it was Iwho needed him. And he was there.
Close. Very close.
* * *
We live in the same housing complex,each with our own small apartment, a few doors from each other.Have done, since I was transferred here years ago.
A good arrangement, affording eachof us his privacy.
Ray Kowalski has had three loveaffairs since we were partnered in Chicago. He met each of thewomen here, in Canada…. After we stopped searching for theHand of Franklin.
After nothing was said concerningour feelings for one another, during our search for the Hand ofFranklin….
* * *
I have had one affair - with a man -since those days. When Ray went back to Chicago to be at hismother's hospital bedside, and ultimately, to attend her funeral.
I was surprised to find how littleit bothered me, to be "unfaithful" to Ray, whom I lovewith all my heart. And how little it satisfied me, and how littleit pleased me, sex with someone - anyone - other than Ray….Perhaps I should have been surprised that I was satisfied,pleased, at all….
It didn't last. Couldn't. Ray wascoming home. My affair was over before Ray's plane left therunway at Chicago O'Hare.
* * *
I give Ray a great deal of credit,for trying. He is not a man who likes to be alone. He is a manwho either connects or doesn't connect. There is no half-way forhim. Yet he is also a man of exclusive love. And he loves me.So… I give him credit for trying - three times thus far - tomake an intimate connection with someone else, someone other thanme.
I was sorry when he couldn't. He wassorry, too. I comforted him as best I could. Ray would say Imight have done more. But I didn't. And he accepted that. Nodoubt, he told himself that feeding our obsession with each otherwould be counter-productive. Unhealthy.
Or told himself that the last thinghe needed was to get closer to the "freak," to havemore of me than he'd already saddled himself with….
* * *
I am fifty years old. Ray isforty-seven.
I am old. He is still young, vital,alive.
When will he leave me? When? Cut hislosses and leave?
Why do I think he will leave mesoon? He hasn't, until now.
I am having one of Ray's hunches.
I know….
* * *
"Great party, huh,Fraser?" Ray asks me cheerfully, when he joins me in myoffice, coming to pick me up for our supper engagement at ourfavorite restaurant. Another in a string of fiftieth birthdaygifts he has arranged for me over the past few weeks.
"Yes, it was. I wasparticularly pleased to hear Francesca's voice on the phone.Thank you for setting that up, Ray."
"Nothin' to it. Just called maVecchio and got Frannie's new phone number. Hop, skip, jump fromthere. She was - well, you know Frannie."
"I do, indeed," I replywith a smile. "Still, hearing her voice after so many years,the gossip about our old friends, brought back memories. Goodmemories," I add.
"That was the whole idea,Frase," Ray tells me with a grin.
"Very successful, then."
"Good."
I look at Ray, a careful gaze, andnotice the few threads of gray in his hair. He has stoppedbleaching it. Now, it is a soft honey-gold color, very pleasingto the eye. He is still young, true, compared to me. But thegrooves in his brow, the lines around his eyes, the deeper linesfrom nose to mouth all attest to the fact that ten years havepassed since we left Chicago and came to Canada. Time has passedfor Ray, too.
I am suddenly frightened. My…premonition haunts me. I ask without thinking, "Iseverything all right, Ray?"
He frowns, looks surprised."Yeah, sure, guess so."
"Everything?" I press,wanting to know, wanting my anticipation to be over with. Wantingto skip to the next phase immediately, so I can suffer my loss. Ihave no patience, now.
"Yeah. Business is good. Well,you know dat, doin' the books 'n all."
"And… Ruth? Is everythingall right between you and Ruth?"
"We're cool, Frase." Heruns his fingers through his hair. "What's the matter? Itain't like you to ask questions about my love life. You hearanything? Ruthie say somethin' to you?"
"No, no, of course not, Ray.Ruth would never speak to me about you, you know that."
"On the money, there,Fraser," he says with a wistful grin. "Can't get none amy girlfriends to be friends wid ya. Just too jealous, Iguess."
"You cannot deny that they havegood cause to be jealous of our friendship, Ray. It is the firstthing they learn about you, and all that they hear about, whileyou are… involved with them." I pause. "When yourrelationships end, our friendship is the last thing they see, asthey leave."
"Wow! Color the red guy blue!What's the matter, Fraser? That's a downer, even fer you."
"Just… " I shrug."Just 'telling it as it is,' Ray. Apart from your family,and Stella, your relationship with me is the most significant oneof your life. And the longest lasting. Outlasting Maude, Carol,and now, Ruth."
"Yer gettin' ahead a yerself,Fraser. Ruth and I are tight -"
"Ruth and you are nearly over,Ray. You might not know it. She might not know it. But I'veobserved the signs often enough to be quite certain." Andmore softly, gently, I tell him, "I'm very sorry, Ray. Morethan I can tell you."
Slowly, Ray turns away from me,walks a few steps across the small office, decides on a chair -my chair, it turns out - and sits. Sits straight, not takingadvantage of the backrest. Is silent for a minute. When he startsto speak I ball my fists, dig my nails into my palms, willingmyself to say nothing, show nothing, except what Ray wants to seeand hear….
"Truth is, Frase, Ruth and me-" He stops, takes a deep breath, steeling himself, andstarts again. "Ruth and me, we're gettin' married. Couplemonths, maybe. June, prolly. Moving east, ta Toronto. Her folkslive there."
I don't know what I expected tohear, but that was not it.
I don't reply.
"Take her a while to get awayfrom her job. She's gonna get a transfer ta the company's Torontobranch, if she can. Me - well, you'll help me wid the relocation,right? The paperwork? Settin' up a new office there, transferrin'calls, advertisin', like dat? Right, Frase?"
All, all spoken as if his concernand mine is with his business, his clients, money.
I bite back the first response thatleaps to mind, which is "no," such a harsh, emphatic"no" as I've spoken only twice to him in our lives.
Stifle, too, the bizarre secondthought which comes to mind, that he will ask me to request atransfer to Toronto, so we can continue to be close….
Good that I did, because his nextwords dash that foolish idea to the rocks.
"I'll… I'll miss you,Fraser," he tells me, blue eyes filled with immeasurablepain, loss, and finality.
"And I, you, Ray," Ianswer automatically, thankful beyond belief for this familiar,dear, true and utterly inadequate phrase.
He lets out a breath. "Whew!Didn' know I could do it, Frase. Tell ya dat. Ruthie said I'dnever do it."
I smile. "Well, as you see,Ruth was wrong. You did it. And survived."
He stands and quickly comes to myside at the window, where I am still stationed. Puts his hand onmy forearm. "You'll be okay? I mean, you'll be okay,right?"
"Of course I will. A bit …at loose ends, for a time, no doubt. But ultimately, I'll befine. As will you be, Ray."
"You'll be lonely," hetells me, shaking his head, regretful.
Not regretful enough to change hisplans, but regretful for the pain he will cause me.
"For a time, yes. I will belonely, Ray. No question." I smile again, from my heart."It's worth it to me, if you are happy."
"Happy? Who's happy?" Hegrins. "Ruth and I are good together. She's a good person.Wants some a da same things I want outta life. She's smart andsweet, and not too high an' mighty ta look up ta me. Not likeStella. Ruth thinks I'm an okay guy, she loves me. But -"
"But?"
"But she tol' me she can't livehere. Won't marry me an' live here. Ya know why. Hell, ya saidit, two minutes ago. Ya psychic, Frase?" Another big grin.Doesn't reach his eyes, but a grin, nevertheless.
"Perhaps I am. I was…considering the time we've spent together. That it has more thanlikely prevented each of us from finding someone -" I sighdeeply, then continue, "- right for us, someone to love.Especially you, Ray. It's time. Time for you to move on. Ruth isright. This is… long overdue. Forgive me for… keepingyou close. It was… inexcusably selfish of me to do so."
"My choice, Fraser, notyours."
I nod. "Perhaps."
"Yeah, 'perhaps'."
We stand like that another moment,then Ray takes his hand away from my arm, walks a few steps.Looks at me again.
I tell him quickly, "I'm veryhungry, Ray. What time is our dinner reservation for?" Iask, to prevent more talk. Entirely too much has been saidalready.
"About now, Fraser. But -"
"Yes, Ray?"
"Would ya take a raincheck?Ruthie will be wonderin' how this turned out."
"Say no more. Tomorrow night,then?"
"That'd be great, greatness!Thanks, buddy!" he tells me, relieved by my quiet acceptanceof his news. Of my imminent loss.
At this point, at least, he isrelieved.
Soon, when he has time to think, hewill be alarmed.
Because Ray Kowalski knows me as noone else does, or ever has, since I was a child.
Ray knows me.
Which is why he always stayed close.
He will be alarmed, very soon.
And rightly so.
* * *
After Ray leaves my office I buttonmy greatcoat and take my gloves with me as I venture out into thenight.
I walk my stiff, old man's walk. Formiles. Chilled to the bone but rock-steady in my determinationnot to return to my apartment. Not to turn around. Not now.
As my throat closes, as the tearsflow, as the time passes, the conviction grows within me that Ido not wish to return to my apartment - or my life - ever.
I walk until I've left our town,well past the outskirts, where some folks have built cabins, poorshelter against the elements.
I walk until I come to the woods.Until all I can see as far as I look are the naked trunks andbranches of trees in winter….
Until no sound but the night soundsof the forest reach my ears, and I taste nothing but cold air andhot tears in my mouth….
I know he will get over it. RayKowalski is nothing if not resilient. He will bear the scars ofour friendship, our love, for as long as he lives. But he willget over … this, I tell myself repeatedly as I raise myservice revolver and press it against my temple. Drop it lower,to my stomach, when I think of Ray. He will not be pleased if Idestroy my face, I know.
As well as I know that he will getover it.
Wishes to get over it - ourfriendship, our love.
Will be happy with Ruth….
I need not suffer my loss. No need.
"Be happy, Ray," Iwhisper. A prayer.
Shoot.
Fall.
Bleed.
"Be happy, Ray," I think,as I drift into darkness….
Black out.
* * *
"Dat was close, Fraser,"Ray tells me. The first words out of his mouth when I open myeyes.
"Not close enough," Iwhisper, immediately taking in my surroundings. Hospital. I am inhospital. I am alive.
"Fuck dat. What da hell were yathinkin', ya idiot!" But there is more affection than heatin his voice.
"I was thinking that if I wentback I would ask you to stay."
"So? How bad would dat abeen?"
"Pretty bad, Ray. You wouldhave stayed."
"You betcha,Benton-buddy," he tells me with a grin. "How bad woulddat a been?"
"You deserve alife…."
"So give me one!" heretorts. When I simply stare at him, he asks, "You think I'da gone wid Ruthie, if you died?"
"I - I don't know." And Idon't. I hadn't thought that far. That my death would havedestroyed Ray's relationship with Ruth more surely than anythingelse. "I'm sorry."
"You coulda saidsomethin'," he repeats, "pissed" at me as only RayKowalski can be.
"Nothing to offer you, Ray.Nothing at all. Just… more of the same. Not goodenough…." My throat is dry. I feel ill, positivelywretched, and lonely, so very lonely.
Ray tells me, "Ruthietransferred to Toronto while you were recuperating. She'sgone."
I take a deep breath, the sharpphysical pain matched by my emotional pain. "When will youjoin her?" I ask.
"Join her? I ain't joinin' her,Fraser. I'm stayin' here wid you." He shakes his head."What's wrong with you? You - you are so dumb I don' evenknow why I waste my time talkin' ta you."
"Indeed, I don't know why youwaste your life with me, Ray. I promise you, I don't know."
"Look, Frase, don' play dumbwid me. We're just gonna go back ta da way it's always been, youand me, a duet. That's all. I made a mistake, tryin' ta changedat. Shoulda known better. Did know better. Jus' bein' contrary,like my teachers usta call me."
"Ray, I promise I won't tryto… do away with myself again. Please, go to Ruth. Go withher, Ray. Be happy, I beg of you."
"Ya don' get it, do you, Ben? Iam happy. Here. Wid you. Always was. Let my head get twistedaround, thinkin' what I had wasn' enough, wasn' right. But it wasright. Enough. What I need." He shakes his head. "Yadid good, Ben. I'd a figured it out after a couple months, outthere in Toronto. Woulda come back ta ya. Woulda killed Ruthie,if I done that." He smiles. "But - ya shoulda saidsomethin'. Why ya always gotta go ta extremes?"
I am silent for a long time.
He hasn't called me Ben in years.Now, he has called me Ben twice in a row.
All he needs? All he wants? Enough?
Nonsense.
"I don't understand, Ray. Youbelieve you would have come back home, come back…." Idon't know how to put it. I try again. "You believe youwould have left Ruth after a few months and returned here, toyour life… here?"
"'course I woulda. No questionabout it," he assures me.
"Why?"
"Because I love you."
"That's not enough, Ray. Weboth know it."
"You really don' understan', doya?"
"Apparently not."
"I was… slippin' away, allthose years ago, back in Chicago. When we met. Losin' …myself."
"You are very strong, Ray. Youwould have recuperated from… Stella. From your divorce. Yourstrength would have returned."
He smiles. "No. It wouldn' havereturned. I was dyin', Fraser. Worse than you. I - I was almostthere, almost ready to eat my gun. Slip-slidin' away, like thesong says…."
"No, Ray, it wasn't like that.You were turning your life around. You were a wonderful officer,a good man. In time, you would have made peace with Stella, withyourself. Grown strong again."
"No. I wouldn' have. Notwithout you. You're the one. I knew dat back den. I stayed close,close as I could get, Frase, not fer you. Fer me." He lickshis lips. "I jus' fergot. Dumb." He smiles at me, thatsweet smile that never fails to make my spirit sing with anupsurge of love for him. "What a way ta remind me, though.Don' do it again."
"It's not enough, Ray. What wehave, what we share, isn't enough. For you or for me."
"It is."
"Ray, I know it's not enough,but please don't leave me -"
"It is enough, Fraser. I won'tleave you."
"Thank you." I swallow. Henotices, gives me a sip of water. "Ray?"
"Yeah, Ben, what?"
"I'm getting old."
He chuckles. "Sure youare!"
"No, really. I'm getting old.Soon, I will be too old…." I let my sentence trailaway, because I don't know how to say what I wish to tell him.
"Too old fer what?" Heappears to be genuinely puzzled, which is not surprising.
"Too old to… getcloser… to you," I manage to say.
"Closer? We can't get anycloser than we are, Ben."
"Yes, we can. Most certainly,we can."
"Ya don' need ta do dat,Fraser," he tells me firmly, catching my meaning. "I'mstayin', no matter what. I shoulda never even thought aboutleavin', ta begin wid -"
"Ray, I want us to becloser," I insist.
"Hey, Fraser, it's been morethan twelve years. I woke up an' smelled the coffee years ago. Itain' what ya want. I'm good wid dat. Don' worry. Ya don' need tamake promises ta keep me here. Ya don' need to shoot yerself,either. I ain' goin' no place. I promise."
"I want it, Ray. I want us tobe so close that even death could not part us."
"We're already that close, yafreak," Ray says softly.
"No. We're not. Not yet."
"Well…." He blushes.
"But if you wish it, we will bethat close, soon."
"Coulda been today, if yahadn't taken it inta yer head to shoot yerself, idiot!"
"Yes, it could have been today.But it will be soon, I promise you."
"Pitter patter, Frase,"Ray says, gracing me with his biggest grin. Then he bends andplaces a quick, chaste kiss on my brow.
"Pitter patter, Ray," Ireply, pulling him close, kissing his mouth.
* * * * * * * * * *
Note - "Bend and flip andchange" is a lyric from the wonderful song "RideForever" which was written by Paul Gross and David Keeley.You can hear Paul sing it on their CD, "Two Houses."