a/n: episode tag: Mountie on the Bounty pt.1
Summary: After punching Fraser, Ray.K tries to make things up with him, but things turn out not be as simple, egos get in the way.
Sweet and Sour
"I swear. I swear to god, I'll punch you in the face. Fair warning."
"You're going to punch me? What does that even mean?"
"I'm going to punch you in the face."
"Just think calmly-"
"Why don't you listen to me?"
Punch.
Ray froze; his pale eyes wide as he watched Fraser wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth. He couldn't believe that he'd just done that... to his best friend- his only friend. He was breathing hard, he'd been angry. He hated the water, hated that he felt so weak when he was surrounded by it and yet Fraser kept throwing him in it whenever he got the chance.
Fraser looked back, disappointment in his expression, hurt in his gaze.
Ray's heart was beating fast. Guilt swelling up with each pump. Why did Fraser have to be like that? Act like he was superior all the time, correcting everything that came from Ray's mouth. So he wasn't an expert at English, not like Fraser seemed to be at everything. It was only because everything was straight in his mind but by the time it made its way out his mouth it was all screwy.
Fraser looked away them, fiddled with the brim of his hat in his hands, looked out to the water before he turned away and started to walk away.
Ray knew that he had to do something, just open your mouth! He screamed at himself, do it before Fraser get's to far. Ray opened his mouth; good, now say it before he gets too far. But nothing came; his breath stayed just that, a breath. Fraser was getting farther and farther and Ray was getting lonelier and lonelier with each gaping step.
And then Fraser was out of reach, gone. And Ray was left alone, like he always was... Why couldn't he seem to do anything right?
0-0
Ray couldn't concentrate on anything, he was down in the dumps. He just lost his friend.
"Ray," Welsh called. "Got something for you."
Ray dragged himself from his chair at his desk and into Welsh's office. There, the lieutenant handed him a piece of paper.
Ray looked at the older man for a moment before looking down at the page. "What's this?"
"Transfer."
"What? You mean I can go back, I can be myself again?" Ray asked, looking back up at Welsh.
"If that's what you want."
"Right." Ray mumbled, looking back down at the sheet. What was he going to do now, what did this mean for him and Fraser? That they weren't going be partners anymore, if they even were now.
He stumbled out of Welsh's office, passed his desk, passed Frannie and out of the precinct; he had to see Fraser.
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Ray got as far as the consulate door. He was frozen, nervous; what was he going to say when he saw Fraser? Was Fraser even here? His palms were sweaty as he reached out to the bell, but didn't press it. Why was this so hard? It was just a door bell. He felt better being held at gun point than he did about this. What did it say about him? It wasn't as if he was socially awkward. Or maybe he was, probably. He had enough trouble talking, but expressing himself? That was a whole other box of cats.
He clenched his fist and dropped it to his side. He couldn't do it, didn't know what to do or say. So he spun around, crashing into Fraser who turned out to be right behind him.
The Constable was balanced on the top step, and even as Ray collided with him, he stayed upright. Ray, on the other, would have toppled over Fraser and onto his face if the other man hadn't grabbed him by the lapels of his coat.
"Whoa!" Ray shouted as Fraser pushed him up right.
"Ray? What are you doing here?" Fraser asked, taking his hands away and smoothing the material out.
"I- uh. I, uh..." Ray stumbled with his words, coming to a humiliated halt. He let out a breath and looked away from Fraser. "I'm-I'm sorry about before... the punching you thing." he waved his hand, looking back up at Fraser.
Fraser didn't say anything, just kept staring at Ray.
"I was- I was just angry." Ray said, forcing things from his mind. "The water- I don't like the water. You keep pushing me in the water."
"Well, Ray. I believe that we jumped." Fraser finally spoke and he had to say something like that.
"No, Fraser. I'm talkin' matronly-"
"Metaphorically." Fraser corrected.
"Metaphorically-" Ray ground out. "You take the words out of my mouth and call them wrong. You tell me to trust you when you don't trust me. I say I gotta hunch and you say they're not real- you say that I'm not real. Time after another you say the only way we can get out a mess is to jump, jump in you say. And I do! I do every time, I trust you. But you never trust me..."
"What are you saying, Ray?" Fraser asked.
"I got a transfer." Ray said. This wasn't what he came here for; he was gonna say sorry and get Fraser back, but instead that was what he'd said.
"Oh. Well, uh, that's good news, Ray." Fraser said, looking at his hands for a second.
Ray tried not to look disappointed. He'd expected some different reaction than that, but what? Maybe it wasn't meant to be. Maybe they weren't supposed to be partners or friends for that matter. It hurt, of course, Ray couldn't remember the last time he had a friend, one that he just went out with, was able to talk with, or a partner that he's be confident to have in any situation.
"Right. Thanks." it wasn't said with the gratitude, but instead came out as a hateful snap. He stepped past Fraser, bumping his shoulder harshly on the way.
Fraser turned and watched him go. "Ray." he called, desperate. But it came out no louder than a whisper and the other man continued away into the darkened street.
Fraser was very upset with himself; why was Ray being so selfish? Why couldn't the man just have admitted the real reason as to why he'd come down to the consulate? Was he that stubborn? But then Fraser supposed at the current moment he was being the selfish. What Ray had told him may have been correct; he did have a tendency to correct everything Ray said and he wasn't sure about hunches because he always looked at things logically.
Fraser thought back to the night before.
Ray had time and again told him that he couldn't swim. Fraser understood this, but could he be blamed when the two of them seemed to get stuck in multiple situations where that was the only option? He'd been reasonably sure that jumping had been the only option now as well. And how was he to know that if they waited three minutes longer that back-up would have arrived- just because he could tell from twenty blocks away whether or not that walk light turned. Okay, so maybe he should have realized, but they were being shot at, trapped under a little tin roof that barely had enough room for the both of them; they'd run out of options. So, yes, maybe he was slightly at fault.
Fraser turned from the consulate, bed could wait, but Ray couldn't.
0-0
Ray went to a liquor store before he went back to his apartment. He wanted to wallow in self pity for a while without any witnesses. His apartment was a great place for that. He was the only one who lived there, he was alone and no one would bother him.
He took a swallow from the bottle and let the warm liquid burn down his throat. It was better to wallow in the dark, and that was what he did. He sat in the chair by the window, the lights off and light from the street leaking through the cracked blinds causing haphazard shadows to distort his face.
He was going to transfer, it was decided. Fraser had decided for him. It was probably for the better anyway. Fraser didn't consider him a friend, the real him; Stanley Raymond Kowalski. No, Fraser considered him the new Ray Vecchio because that was who Ray was right now. He was portraying Vecchio in this cover, this con. He was Vecchio and Fraser saw him as such, not Kowalski. So when he transferred, he would go back to being Kowalski, leaving the 27th precinct behind, and Fraser along with it.
He blew out a breath that was supposed to bring him relief, have the weight of the decision lifted from his shoulders, which was not the case. Instead, they seemed heavier with burden. This almost felt like it did with Stella when the two of them separated. Ray didn't want a divorce, but things hadn't been working out between the two- just like it was with him and Fraser. He wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that he was comparing his relationship with Fraser to the one that he had with Stella- they two of them made love while his relationship with Fraser was not like that. Sure, there was that one time that he'd asked Fraser whether the man had thought that he was attractive, but that was pure scientific.
Ray took another drink. He was nearly half-way through the bottle and he was definitely starting to feel something. He wasn't thirsty and the burn of the whisky wasn't even noticeable anymore.
He'd tell Welsh in the morning that he was taking the transfer.
There was a knock at the door, but Ray made no move to get it.
"Ray? Are you in there? It's Fraser, can I please come in."
Ray said nothing and instead just stared at the door as if it had no reason for being there- and Ray would have preferred it to be a wall. The liquid sloshed in the bottle and dribbled down his chin as he held the lip to his, his Adam's apple bobbing. He belched as he took the bottle away and knew that Fraser had heard it- but would the Canadian actually just open the door without being invited in? That was the question, one that Ray was wondering the answer. If the man had come all this way, would he open the door? If this was that important, he would; if he actually cared, he would.
"Ray?"
Ray twisted in his chair so that he was he was now facing the door and he sat up straighter, the bottle no longer touching his lip. His eyes were trained on the door. It was probably cruel, like some form of torture. But Ray wanted to know if he was worth it to Fraser.
"Ray..." Fraser started again. He knew that the man was in there, had heard the belch. So why wasn't Ray answering? Did he hate Fraser that much, that he was ignoring him? He had the hopes that Ray would change his mind and come to the door, but what if he didn't? Fraser was worried about that transfer. It wouldn't be considered breaking and entering, would it? Ray was home after all, they knew each other. Even if it was, even if he got in trouble for doing this, he didn't want to loose his friend. He reached out and twisted a nod.
Ray sucked in a breath as the door knob twisted, Fraser was actually doing it. Ray found a smile twisting his lips as the door opened and the hall light leaked through into his dark apartment.
Fraser slipped in and closed the door, driving into darkness again, but it turned bright as his hand guided along the wall and found the light switch.
Ray blinked at the sudden brightness, looking at Fraser.
"Ray." Fraser said with hesitation. "I would like it if we talked... about everything."
Ray just looked at him with a narrowed gaze, no way was he going to show the fact that it cheered him greatly that Fraser came.
"That's okay, you don't have to talk. I would like too." Fraser said. "I realize that I do have a slight tendency to correct your English-"
Ray snorted loudly at that.
"A major tendency to correct you, and I don't know why I feel about hunches, and I realize that I push you to do things that probably aren't necessary. But you are my partner and you are my friend, Ray. And I'm sorry for the way that I've treated you." Fraser told him with feeling.
Ray looked at him for a long moment. "Is that all?"
"Well..." Fraser furrowed his brows. "I believe it is."
Ray slammed the bottle on the table and jerked up from the chair, he wobbled on his feet for a moment before he steadied himself. "Who am I?" he asked.
"Are you intoxicated?"
"Answer the question!"
"Well... you're Ray, Ray."
"Ray who?"
"What-"
"Please." Ray's voice was desperate.
"You're Ray Kowalski impersonating Ray Vecchio." Fraser answered him. "Why are you—"
"Who." was ground through teeth as Ray took a fumbling step towards Fraser.
Fraser didn't understand, but this seemed important to the other man so he answered, "Ray Kowalski."
"Who are you friends with?"
"You."
"Me, who?"
"Ray Kowalski." Fraser said slowly.
Ray looked at him for a long moment before he blinked and nodded. "Do you mean it?"
"Of course, Ray. I wouldn't say it if I didn't." Fraser told him.
"I- I'm sorry that I punched you before," Ray told him again. "It's just; I don't like the water..."
"I know," Fraser said, "And I'm sorry that I made you jump."
Ray nodded again, this time when he let out the breath, that weight was gone. "Friends again?"
"Did we ever stop?"
"I guess not." Ray grinned, happy that he didn't have to transfer even if the meant he still had to be Vecchio- as long as Fraser was his friend and partner, Ray couldn't give a fuzzy kitten.
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