Yeah, well, so maybe his new partner was some kinda freak, but he knew his Chinese food.

It shouldn't have surprised him that the Canadian could speak Cantonese. What really surprised him though was just how popular he was. The place was a Mom and Pop type business, and Mom, who greeted them at the counter, hugged Fraser like a son. The Mountie even managed to hug her back, though Ray could see it didn't come that naturally to him.

The old woman's face must be aching, she was grinning so much.

Once the quick fire conversation was out of the way the two men were seated, at what looked like the best table in the joint.

"So, yeah... erh..." Ray was feeling a little bit lost, looking around for the menu. "So like, what we gonna have? What'd you recommend?"

"I enquired after the specials," Fraser said gravely, "but Mrs Lee says that they will cook us something from scratch."

"Yeah? What's it gonna be?"

"A surprise, apparently."

"A surprise? A delicious, nutritious, Chinese surprise?"

"That would be about the size of it, yes."

"Okay then..." Ray wasn't quite sure how he felt about a mystery menu, but he was willing to try anything once. "So, yeah, these guys know you?"

"Yes. Ray Vecchio, your predecessor... he and I worked on a case together in China town."

"Hey yeah..." Ray quirked a sardonic smile. "I read the notes on that. The FBI screwed up big time, didn't they?"

Fraser cleared his throat. "Well, it has to be admitted that they did somewhat complicate matters."

That was an understatement. "They blew up a firework factory!" Ray was trying not to laugh.

"Yes, that would be the nature of the complication."

"Are you always so, what's the word, so forgiving?" Ray could imagine that being a problem. He didn't mind good cop bad cop... he quite liked playing bad cop. But good cop insanely polite cop mightn't work out so good. It would freak the bad guys out for one thing... it kinda freaked him out. Problem being, it was like the guy was too good to be true. Nobody could be that nice. Like maybe Fraser was pulling a fast one, and taking the piss out of everybody, laughing his Canadian ass off behind their backs. Like maybe he had something to hide.

"They nearly cost you the case," he reminded his partner. "You know you could get pissed at 'em. It's the American Way. I mean like, you live here, embrace our culture."

Fraser smiled, and again Ray had the sneaking suspicion he was being laughed at. "Don't worry, it all worked out in the end."

Ray shook his head. Trust him to get landed with a partner who was a walking advertisement for courteous Canadian. "Yeah, whatever..." Food was arriving now, and Fraser turned and smiled at the guy, probably Pop, and started introductions... this time in English.

"Mr Lee, allow me to introduce you to my new partner... Ray, this is Henry Lee."

"Ray," the man said, after laying out the first course. "Your last partner was Ray also."

"Yeah," Ray felt himself bridle a little bit. Unfortunately nerves tied his tongue up. "It's a what do you call it, a coe in side, coe in see..."

"Coincidence. Yes, Mr Lee, it's a coincidence."

"Glad to meet you, Ray," Mr Lee proffered his hand. "A friend of Fraser's is a friend of mine, and of my family also."

"Yeah... thanks. Nice to meet you too."

"When you see the other Ray," Mr Lee was talking to Fraser again, "tell him I love his mother's lasagne... I swap recipes with her if she wants."

Well, that's weird, Ray thought. This Chinese guy was jonesing for lasagne? And he knew Ma Vecchio?

Mind you, he knew and loved Ma Vecchio, and if you were gonna get a hankering for lasagne, it might as well be hers.

"Yes Mr Lee, I'll be sure to pass that on." Fraser was smiling. "Thank you for the soup."

"Family secret," Mr Lee tapped his cheek in some kind of secret code, "you love it." He winked, nodded, and made his way over to other customers. Now that was really weird... like Cantonese wasn't foreign enough, now Fraser had some kinda secret food lovers' sign language going on?

Ray looked down at his soup, and raised an eyebrow, questioningly. It looked like... well, like glutinous water more than anything. Clear, almost translucent. He sniffed, suspiciously. "It don't look like much."

"Try it," Fraser was blowing delicately on the contents of his spoon. "You'll love it."

Ray took a dubious sip of the suspect looking liquid, and blinked with surprise. "Wow, this is delicious."

Fraser smiled. "I thought you'd like the food here."

…

"What you gonna do for a place to sleep tonight?"

"Well, I would have stayed with the Vecchios as an emergency measure, however, they are also temporarily homeless, so I have made my own arrangements."

Ray nodded, and scratched his chin. Ordinarily he would have offered his partner a couch to sleep on, but he didn't really know this guy yet.

Don't be a bastard, Kowalski, his inner voice told him, you might not know him yet, but he's still your partner... "Yeah, well," he reluctantly spoke up, "if you like you could stay over at my place..."

"No, thank you kindly Ray, that won't be necessary. I have already secured temporary accommodations."

Ray wasn't sure if he was relieved, or a little bit offended that he'd been turned down. He shrugged. "Fine by me." He glanced across at his colleague, who still looked insanely formal although no longer in red serge. How long had he been off duty now? Hours? Even when he wasn't in uniform you could peg him for a cop, just from the way he stood. Really, the guy could do with loosening up a little.

"Hey, thanks for dinner anyway, it was great."

"Yes, the Lees are excellent cooks."

"And you're like what, their golden boy?" Ray was still baffled at Fraser's warm welcome. Even the wolf was allowed in... and that despite the 'no dog' sign on the door. Of course, technically Dief wasn't a dog... but he couldn't imagine many establishments allowing a wolf in the door. Dief however took it all for granted, and snoozed under the table, only becoming alert when scraps seemed likely to come his way.

Fraser looked puzzled, and didn't respond to the 'golden boy' comment, and Ray shrugged it off. "So, I'll like, see you tomorrow?"

"Yes Ray. My shift starts at eight o'clock, I should be off by twelve."

"So, I'll meet you at the Consulate," he laughed, "like I need an excuse to get out of the squad room."

"See you then Ray."

Ray went one way, Fraser and Dief went the other.

Interesting evening, Ray thought. He still hadn't figured his new partner out completely, but he had learned a few things. He was liked in the communities he policed. He kept in touch with previous victims. Which meant that even though he was a weird cop, he was probably a good one too.

Yeah... he might be a freak, and Ray was gonna stay on his toes... but all in all, he quite liked the guy. Even if he was just too damn polite to live.

...

Fraser stood for a moment outside the derelict firework factory, and listened. He couldn't hear any other souls through its walls. He looked at Diefenbaker. "It's only for a while," he said, apologetically, "until we can get something more permanent sorted out." Dief looked at him with a trusting doggy smile. "Thanks Dief," Fraser was relieved. "I'm glad you understand."

He pushed the corrugated iron aside, and made his way through the broken wall. The floor crunched, and smelled damp. After all this time, two years in fact, it still smelled, faintly, of sulphur. As Ray had just pointed out, the FBI had completely messed this whole place up. However, even though long abandoned, none of the locals bothered to use it. Words did not seem to express quite how much they hated Charlie Wong. So, for a while at least, Fraser knew that it would a be discreet enough place to hide.

There were gaps in the ceiling, and stars shone clearly through the struts of what used to be the roof. Further in, however, was a dry area, underneath the stairs. For the most part the roof had held, and besides, the weather was fine.

"So, this is where we're going to live now, is it son?"

"We're not living anywhere," Fraser said pointedly, and dropped his bedroll under the stairwell. "I'm not even living here. I'm only staying till I get somewhere permanent."

"You know, this isn't what I had in mind for you. I never thought I'd say it, but this is even worse than your last apartment."

"It's not forever. And besides, it's no different from sleeping under the stars in the Yukon," Fraser kicked out his bedroll, valiantly attempting to appear unconcerned by his surroundings. "We've both been camping before."

"This isn't camping, Benny, this is squatting."

"It's wilderness survival. The only variant is that Chicago's a different kind of wilderness."

"I'll say." Bob Fraser snorted. "You can't live like this, son, not in a city. You're a Mountie, you're not supposed to be homeless. You have an image to maintain... how are you going to stay clean for a start?"

"I'll figure something out," Fraser was lying down now, with his arm covering his eyes.

"You'd better do it fast, I'm not building an office here."

"I don't even know what you're concerned about. It's not like it matters to you where you live... you're dead, you don't need a roof over your head."

"But you do. And frankly, I can see the sky through what is left of this roof."

"Good night, Dad."

"Son, listen to me, you can't live like this."

"I'm trying to sleep."

The old Mountie folded his arms and glared down at his son's recumbent form. It was obvious that the lad wasn't asleep, equally obvious that he didn't want to talk.

"Whatever you say son. But first thing tomorrow, I expect you to get this thing sorted out. It's just not acceptable for a Mountie to live like this."

"Okay Dad, fine. Tomorrow I'll find an apartment."

Bob Fraser stared at his son, and the wolf lying along side him. He addressed the wolf, gravely. "Keep an eye out for him, make sure he's safe."

The wolf lifted his head, and wafted his tale as though in affirmation.

The old ghost nodded, then, feeling his son's continued resistance, walked away, fading as he went.

Fraser felt his father leave, and rolled over to try and get comfortable. It took him a long time to sleep.

And even then, there were dreams.

…

Ray was psyched up in a good way as he made his way to the Canadian Consulate. Yeah, so it was all cool... he'd got the paper work done and dusted, and now he was bouncing down the road on the balls of his feet, on the way to see his new partner. Get a chance to see the guy on a normal day. Because today was... like it was a new day you know? And not every day could be as bat shit crazy as yesterday. So, maybe Dudley Do Right would be a bit more, what do you call it, a bit more like a normal guy. When his house wasn't burning down, and his car wasn't on fire, and he wasn't being shot at by the ugliest gangster's moll in the world. Ray grinned. Yeah, when you put it that way, no wonder the guy came across a bit funny. And then he'd just had his partner replaced by... well, yours truly. That must have been one hell of a weird homecoming.

He had a tune going through his head, and he couldn't quite place it. But it kept a kick in his step, and he was humming under his breath as he arrived at the Canadian Consulate.

Hey, that guy was real serious about keeping his appointments... Fraser was already outside, looking like he was standing at attention.

"Hey Fraser, what's up?" He stood in front of his partner, bouncing from side to side, eager to get going.

The guy just stood there.

"What, are you in a trance or something?" Wow, maybe the guy was like, epileptic, and he was having one of those, whaddaya call 'em, absinthe thingies... not absinthe, no... absence makes the heart grow fonder, seizures, that was it, seizures. "You having some kinda absence seizure or something? Hey... I'm talking to you..." He waved his hand in the Mountie's face, and there was no response at all. Great... He was just starting to run up the steps to alert the Canadians that one of their staff was having a fit on their doorstep when a voice came up from behind him.

"He's on sentry duty."

"Excuse me?" He turned round and stared at the two nuns, who were smiling at him from the bottom of the Consulate steps.

The oldest one spoke again. "The gentleman you're so concerned about. He's on sentry duty. He gets off at twelve." Ray looked at his watch. It was four minutes off the hour.

"Jesus Christ," he said, then bit his tongue. In front of the nuns, no less. "Sorry... I mean, like... what the hell? I mean..."

"It's all right son," the eldest nun had a twinkle in her eye. "I understand what you mean. It does seem a very odd duty."

"So, do you like, know him?"

"Oh yes, we came to thank him for all his help with the fund-raiser for the orphanage."

"He helped you with a fund-raiser?"

"Yes, before his holidays, he helped Father Behan put together a musical programme. And as for the piano recital, it truly was delightful."

Great, Ray thought, so he's not just a do gooder polite Canadian, he's a religious freak. Just what I need...

"Anyway, when your friend comes off duty, give him this." The elderly nun handed him an envelope.

"Why don't you just er, why don't you just put it in his pocket?"

The younger nun spoke up, and blushed. "I'm afraid that wouldn't be quite proper."

Ray smiled. Looked like the nun wasn't immune to Fraser's clean cut Canadian charm. "Yeah, all right then, I'll give it to him."

The nuns bobbed their thanks at him, ducked their heads and wove through the pedestrians, disappearing into the crowd. Ray nipped back down the steps, and took up his position opposite Fraser again. A grin crooked at the side of his mouth, and he chuckled. Something about this situation was really amusing. He knew it was childish, and other people must have tried before, but he really wanted to get a response out of the guy.

What am I gonna go for, he thought mischievously, there's gotta be something that'll make him jump?

With a wicked glint in his eyes he moved in sudden and swift, lips pursed as though for a kiss. Fraser's eyes widened in alarm, and he damned near flinched.

Ray was still laughing his ass off when the clock finally struck twelve, and Fraser stepped down from his shift.

…

This new partner of his was going to take some getting used to. As the clock struck Fraser allowed his face to relax into a neutral but friendly expression. He hoped at least to deny Ray the continued satisfaction of laughing at his expense, so decided not to betray the fact that the threatened peck on the cheek had taken him aback.

"So," Ray moved into position beside Fraser, still grinning, as the latter stepped onto the pavement and began walking purposefully onward. "It's your lunch hour, whatcha gonna do?"

"Well, I was planning on going to the library, to start looking for some permanent accommodations..."

"Yeah, well... real exciting."

"Excitement isn't always important. There are a lot of people homeless from this attack, it's my duty to try to help them."

"What? I thought you meant you were looking for yourself."

"Well, that too. But I have neighbours... well, I had neighbours. I have a duty to help them."

"All of them?" Ray laughed. "I don't think so."

Fraser shook his head. "It's my fault..." he pulled a face. "It's my fault they were there in the first place."

"What do you mean?"

Fraser sighed. "A while ago, our apartment block was bought out, we were nearly evicted. I persuaded people to stay and fight big business. And well, most of those people are homeless now. Because I made them stay."

"It's not your fault though, I mean, it's not like you coulda guessed you were gonna be the victim of arson."

Fraser shrugged, looking unconvinced.

"So anyway... you're looking for some place to stay. What about where you stayed yesterday?"

"It's acceptable, in the short term," Fraser said vaguely, "but ideally I need to find somewhere else..."

"So, like, what charity help is there for you guys? I checked into it, it's like a mini disaster fund or something... a lot of you have been given temporary, whada you call it, accommodation by the churches..."

"I don't want to take a bed when I already have a place to stay."

"All right, but it would get you on a waiting list."

"There are already enough people on that list."

Ray looked sideways at his new partner, catching an odd expression in his eyes. It was like he felt guilty, like he really believed it was his fault...

"Hey, you know you didn't burn the place down. It's not like it's you did something wrong..."

"Well, technically no, but you have to admit that the building would not have been burned down if I didn't live in it."

"It's not your fault some arsonist decided to take it out on you."

Fraser's expression twisted bitterly. "My particular brand of bad luck appears to be somewhat contagious. Most people could go on holiday for a few months, without having their apartment block burned down by 'performance arsonists.' You have to admit, it all seems wildly improbable."

"Yeah, well, that's life. You can't predict wildly improbable bullshit, can you?"

"No," Fraser sighed, sounding almost bitter. "But you can be sure it usually follows me around."

Ray carried on walking, looking at his feet uncomfortably. "You know, you're blaming yourself for nothing. I mean, like, it's nobody's fault."

"Perhaps not."

"Look, we're at the library, let's just shut up about who's fault it is, and see if we can find you some place to stay."

An hour later Ray was losing his temper.

"You know when you've got a number for a landlord?"

"Yes, Ray?"

"And we call him up on my cell phone?"

"Yes, Ray?"

"And you ask about whether pets are allowed?"

"Yes, Ray?"

"How about you stop telling them that Diefenbaker's a wolf!"

"I'm not offering them the information that he's a wolf. Only when they ask what kind of pet I have..."

"Well then, when they ask, why don't you say something helpful, like... I dunno, anything instead of, 'meet Diefenbaker, he's my deaf, half husky half wolf hound from hell...'"

"Ray, I never said anything of the sort."

"You didn't have to. You know the word 'wolf'? It scares the shit out of everyone. Why can't you just say he's a dog? He's half dog after all. You're not prejudiced against dogs are you?"

"I don't think so. Are you prejudiced against wolves?"

"Fraser, do you listen to yourself? Anyone would think you didn't want to get a place of your own."

Fraser sighed and rubbed his head. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired."

"We're all tired, Fraser," Ray was fighting a headache, and fantasising about coffee... "Look, let's just sit down, while things are quiet, and figure out some good place for you to be. Okay? Cause, to be honest, you're looking a little bit rough today."

"Really?" Fraser sounded a little bit surprised. "I thought I'd done a good job of making myself presentable."

"Yeah, maybe, but if there's one thing I know, it's what a guy looks like when he's pulled an all nighter. You, my friend, look beat. So... I dunno what your landlord is like, but if you don't get a decent night's sleep tonight, he's gonna have to answer to me."

Fraser pulled a face, and looked shifty.

Ray looked at him, speculatively. Yeah, for sure the guy was hiding something.

"Listen, if you're happy enough where you are, why don't we leave finding apartments for another time?"

"Yes, I'd be grateful Ray," Fraser's whole body oozed relief. "I'm sure you have better things to do..."

"Well, you know where you were," he shrugged dismissively. "It was a slum anyway, I bet most of your neighbours are pleased to move on."

Fraser gave him a very disappointed look, and Ray felt shrinkingly small. He had only been trying to reassure him, but now he felt like he'd said completely the wrong thing. "Well, most of them would be glad anyway," he tried to amend. Fraser looked away, still with a lost expression on his face.

Come on, what did the guy want? It wasn't like it was Ray's fault the dump burned down.

Suddenly he had a brainwave. "Look, is there someone in particular you're feeling bad about? I mean, like someone you feel responsible for, like it's your job to protect them?"

Fraser looked up at him, hopefully. "Well, I feel guilty about all of them, to be honest... but there is one family..."