Trust Exercise II

"Ray. Ray. Ray!"

Ray Kowalski looked up from his position kneeling on the back of a perpetrator, slapping handcuffs on the man. It had been such a sweet collar. A tip-off had been called in on the perp, some fellow scumbag turning on one of his own. This had lead Ray and his unofficial partner, Constable Benton Fraser of the RCMP, to a downtown pawn shop. Upon arriving at the scene, Fraser had, as was his wont, chased the villain, a petty criminal wanted on animal smuggling charges, across a series of rooftops. Ray had taken the low road, and when the villain came down, as he must eventually, Ray had been waiting with open arms and ready boots.

Now Ray had a moment to wonder where Fraser had got to. He heard fhis name being called, and looked up. Fraser was still on the roof above him, a steeply-sloped shingled rooftop. He was crouched on the ridge of the roof, equidistant from each end, holding on with both hands.

"Ray, I think you were right."

That was not as good to hear as Ray might have anticipated. Not under these circumstances.

Earlier that day:

Fraser sneezed. Diefenbaker looked at him with astonishment. Ray looked up from the pile of papers on his desk.

"Gesundheit." he said. "Got a cold coming on?"

"Oh, no, Ray. I've never had a cold in my life." Fraser sneezed again. "I expect I just stirred up some dust cleaning the closet in my office today." He blew his nose on his handkerchief and refolded it, only to contemplate the joy of stuffing an unclean hankie back in his pocket.

"Kleenex, Fraze. They were invented for a reason." Ray shoved a box of flimsy tissues at his partner. "Look, if you got a cold, you should take it easy. Eat some chicken noodle soup. Drink ginger ale. Wrap up in a blanket and watch some curling."

"Ray, I don't have a cold. That's illogical. Why would I suddenly come down with a cold?" He coughed.

Francesca Vecchio walked past. "Ooh, Benton, that sounds like a nasty cold." she said. "Maybe I should take you home and you know, look after you." She winked.

"I do not have a cold!" Fraser said. "I don't get colds."

Lieutenant Welsh was passing on the way in to his office. "Nothing to be ashamed of, Constable." he said. "These summer colds can come outta nowhere. Didn't you dive into the river just the other day in pursuit of that purse snatcher?"

Fraser shook his head. "Well, yes, I did, sir. But I still don't-" he paused to sneeze and blow his nose on a tissue "-think it's a cold. Simple germ theory rules out the old superstition about getting wet leading to infection."

Welsh shook his head. "You took a swim in the Chicago River. Trust me, there's plenty of germs to account for it."

Fraser was on the point of explaining that while the Chicago River was in fact unclean, the common rhinovirus, or cold, was transmitted by airborne particulate spray or person to person contact, not water borne bacteria.

Fortunately for Welsh's patience and sanity, Ray's phone rang. "Oh, greatness." he said. "Yeah, you be sure to come on by for the reward." he added sarcastically before he hung up. "OK, Fraze, got a lead on that otter smuggler we were after. You good to go, or you need to rest up?"

"I'm fine, Ray." Fraser said with a hint of impatience, sticking a handful of kleenex into his tunic pocket. "Let's go."

On the roof:

"I think you were right." Fraser yelled from the roof top. He sneezed again, clinging tenaciously with both hands to the roof ridge. Ray stared up with some amazement. Usually Fraser would be running along the ridge just as if he were down on the pavement. This was not so good.

"I seem to have some trouble maintaining my balance." Fraser yelled. "I feel dizzy. Which is-" he paused. "Which is unfortunate, because I appear to be stuck."

"Told you it was a cold." Ray yelled back.

"Serves him right." the perp said from the ground.

"Nobody's talkin' to you!" Ray said. "Dief." The wolf didn't need asking twice. He settled in front of the prostrate otter smuggler and stared him down.

"Right." Ray said. "You move, the wolf eats dinner early."

"Okay, okay, whatever." the smuggler said. "But who chases people over roof tops?"

Diefenbaker growled. The smuggler considered it wiser to shut up now.

"Hang in there, Benton, buddy. We'll get you down." Ray shouted. The problem was, he wasn't too hot on the idea of scrambling up there himself. But Fraser's grip looked precarious, and gathering rain clouds overhead suggested that things were only going to get more slippery. He ran to the fire escape on the next building over, the easiest route he could see upwards.

"Why am I doing this, why am I doing this? Why couldn't you admit you were sick?" he grumbled as he ran up the metal steps, his coat flying out behind him.

Fraser clung on to the metal ridge of the roof top, looking down the steep slope to the streets below. His head was spinning. A theoretical familiarity with the common cold suggested that it was congestion in his sinuses and the ear canals that was making him feel so off-centre, and this was more or less confirmed by the occasional stabbing pain in his left ear.

Theory was irrelevant to his inability to get back down from where he'd gotten up to. That was embarrassing. More than embarrassing was the atavistic panic rising in him at the thought of not being able to get down without tumbling through the air in an uncontrolled fall. He'd never been afraid of heights, not even as a small boy. Perhaps especially not as a small boy. He ventured to move forward, the smallest inching motion, but even that set his head whirling and he clamped down with both hands. That was not going to happen!

Ray reached the edge of the other building and took a running jump to land on the steep roof Fraser was on. He had to land on all fours and smack himself flat against the side of the roof, scrambling with his feet for the purchase to haul himself up onto the narrow central ridge.

"Okay, Fraze, I'm here now, just move toward me and we'll get you down."

"Ray, I- I can't." Fraser said.

"What do you mean you can't?" Ray edged forward toward Fraser on his hands and knees, looking down occasionally and not liking what he saw. "C'mon. It's going to rain soon. You don't want to make that cold worse."

Fraser looked miserable. Ray rolled his eyes. Go figure, a guy never has a cold his whole life, of course he's going to be a baby about it.

Fraser let loose a gigantic sneeze that tilted his balance. His legs slid out from underneath him, and he was hanging from the roof ridge by his fingers. Ray drew a sharp breath and moved forward more quickly. Yup, trust Fraser not only to get a cold but to compound it by dangling perilously by his fingertips. One more sneeze and he'd be sliding toward the edge.

"Hold on, and do NOT sneeze." Ray said firmly.

"I hardly see how I can control a reflex reaction." Fraser said.

"Try." Ray snapped. He was not so comfortable being out this far from the edge of the roof. He wasn't sure how he was going to haul Fraser back up. But he had to man up and do this, in spite of his own discomfort at the height.

Just as Ray got within reach of Fraser's arms, Fraser contorted himself, trying to suppress another sneeze. The sneeze would not be denied, and Ray had to lunge forward to catch hold of one of Fraser's arms before he slid downward to the edge of the roof.

"Okay, steady, hold on." Ray said. He was practically lying down on the roof ridge himself now, his compulsion to keep his centre of gravity low was so strong.

"I lost my sense of balance, Ray, not my intelligence." Fraser grumbled. He was aware that he was being difficult, but the whole situation was just mortifying. He pushed against the roof with his boots and with the help of Ray's grip from above, hauled himself back onto the ridge.

"That's better." Ray said. "Now come on, we just have to crawl back over to the edge and take a running jump. Easy." Which was a lie, it wasn't easy, if it was easy, he'd have been up top chasing the smuggler with Fraser in the first place, not waiting on the ground to grab him.

Ray pushed himself back up onto all fours, still facing Fraser, his back to the edge of the roof. Fraser took a deep breath and did the same, but facing forward. The whirling sensation in his head visited with him again and he closed his eyes and took another deep breath to try to clear it. This lead to a small coughing fit, but he held steady, as long as his eyes were closed.

"Ray, I think I might be able to move if I don't look." he said. There was an edge of desperation in his voice that Ray didn't like to hear.

"Fine, Fraser, that's fine." Uh-huh. That was a great thought - Fraser moving forward blindly on the narrow ridge. Ray shook his head. Could things get crazier? The thundercloud cracking over their heads answered that question, as the rain that had been threatening started to pour down.

Below, in the street, the smuggler whined. "Aww, what the hell is taking so long? They gotta arrest me, the least they could do is get me out of the rain." Diefenbaker whuffled a sound of agreement, his fur matting around him.

Ray reached out cautiously and patted Fraser on the hand in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "Okay, now you're going to just have to trust me, I'll move backwards and you move toward my voice. Got it?"

Fraser didn't answer immediately. Not that he didn't trust his partner. Of course he trusted Ray. He trusted Ray to have his back in dicey situations, to show up at the right time with his service weapon in hand, to stand by him when he needed a friend. But frankly, this sort of situation? He'd never had to trust anyone but himself, his own cat-like sure-footedness. It was well and good to say that he trusted Ray, but right now his gut said "Stay put, wait until your balance comes back."

"Come on, Fraze, it's getting kind of slippery up here." Ray said. He could hear a nervous edge to his voice and he wished he sounded more badass, because this whole ridiculous setup called for at least one of them to maintain their nerve, and apparently today it was him. "Just move toward me. You put your left leg in..." he joked.

"All right." Fraser said. He took a deep breath. Let Ray talk him through this. He could do that. With his eyes still squeezed closed to block out the dizziness, he started to shuffle forward on the roof ridge.

"That's the way. Easy does it. Come on." Ray kept up a stream of encouragement as he backed toward the edge of the roof. He wasn't sure how he was going to get Fraser across to the flat roof with the fire escape when they got there, but they'd cross that gaping chasm of pure terror when they came to it.

Rain ran down Ray's face, blurring his vision. His grip on the roof definitely felt less than sure. But now that he had Fraser moving, he gained a new confidence that he would get them down safely. He took one hand off the roof and wiped his eyes, turning to look over his shoulder to see where they'd got to. There was still a distance to crawl backwards to the edge of the roof.

"Okay, greatness, we're nearly there. Just keep moving, no problem."

Fraser paused. There was a problem. He felt another sneezing fit coming on, the congestion in his sinuses building and the rain tickling his nose. He thought that it would be ironic if after all the years of throwing himself carelessly into peril, he plunged to his death because of a cold. But not the amusing kind of ironic.

Ray blinked more rainwater out of his eyes. He recognized that nose-scrunch. That was the nose-scrunch of a man about to let loose a volley of powerful sneezes. Ray shuffled forward as quickly as he could and reached out to steady Fraser by the shoulders. Great, at that range, he was going to get sneezed on, and he might not know much about germ theory, but he just knew that meant it was his turn to get this cold next. And whatever Fraser said, he was damn sure that hanging around getting wet was some kind of contributing factor to catching a cold.

Ray held Fraser's shoulders for the duration of six sneezes, saving a heartfelt "Gesundheit!" for when it was clear that his partner was done. Fraser opened his eyes. "Thanks, Ray." he said. He looked at his partner's sodden hair and face.

"Ray, I think you should wear my hat." he said.

Ray nearly fell off the roof. The stetson? The stetson he was pretty sure was imbued with some kind of hoodoo powers of protection? Boy, that never went on anyone else's head.

"You need to be able to see clearly, and it's very good at keeping rain out of your eyes. Take the hat." Fraser affirmed.

Ray reached out hesitantly and plucked the hat from Fraser's head, planting it firmly on his own. He didn't feel any actual sensation of power or anything, but it certainly cemented that he was the responsible party in this little adventure. And Fraser was right, it was awesome for keeping rain off his face. He grinned. He was wearing The Hat. Coolness.

"Right, ready to get moving again?" There were mere feet between them and the edge of the roof, and Ray could hardly wait to get down.

He edged backwards once more with Fraser following his voice. Soon, Ray felt the edge of the roof with his feet.

"Okay, we're here, Benton buddy. Time to get across to the other roof. I guess you're going to need your eyes open for this one."

Ray turned himself around carefully. There was only room for one of them to stand up at a time. "What we're going to do," he said, sounding far more brave and confident than he felt, "is, I'll jump over, then you just stand up and kind of fling yourself, whatever. No balance involved. I'll catch you." That was the ticket. No more hesitation. Maybe the hat did have powers.

Ray got to his feet and stepped back, just bumping into Fraser. "Okay, I'm going to jump. Then it's your turn." He made a scrambling, undignified, but successful leap to the flat roof of the other building.

"Ready?" he yelled back across.

Fraser opened his eyes. The world below was still swimming sickly. He muttered something that might have been "Damned eustachian tubes." before attempting to push himself to his feet.

Diefenbaker looked up, watching with concern. The smuggler thought this was his chance to escape, but he'd no sooner started to roll over than Dief growled meaningfully, although the wolf's eyes never left his owner. The smuggler sighed ruefully and rolled back onto his front. He was really not enjoying lying in a rapidly forming puddle.

Fraser got to his feet but he didn't have his balance. He staggered along the last few inches of the ridge to the edge of the roof and stood there windmilling his arms in an effort to stay upright. It was a pitiful scene.

"Greatness. Now, just jump across. I'll catch you."

Fraser didn't so much jump as tumble, falling forward from the ridge. His footing had gone, and all his grace and elegance were missing from the plunge into open air. Ray swore and lunged out, dropping into a horizontal position, nearly throwing himself off the building. He was leaning half way off the flat roof as his hands caught Fraser by the wrists.

"Okay. Okay. I got you." he said through clenched teeth as he supported the full weight of his partner. "Now grab my wrists."

This, Fraser was capable of. He grabbed tightly around Ray's wrists and used his upper body strength to help Ray lift him slowly onto the flat roof. He lay flat for a few moments enjoying not having to cling for balance, then sat up and sneezed.

Ray rolled over and sat up beside him, taking off the stetson to wipe sweat from his brow.

"You scared the crap outta me." Ray said vehemently. He paused, looking long and hard at Fraser before he added, "The next time I tell you go home, you got a cold, just go home, okay?" he said, in a tone of gentle reproach.

"I'm sorry, Ray. Thank you. I've never - er - got stuck like that before. I couldn't have made it across without you." Fraser said.

Ray was giving him a look that conveyed entire sentences, mostly, 'Don't you dare make a big scene about this, I don't do hugging and learning.' so Fraser didn't thank Ray as effusively as he'd have liked. But he couldn't resist adding, "Of course, there won't be a next time, because I never get sick."

Ray was just contemplating how to reply to this annoying rejoinder when he felt an ominous sensation.

"Oh, no- Oh, no!" he said, then let out an enormous sneeze of his own. He glared his annoyance at Fraser.

Back at the station:

Ray sat with his feet on his desk and a smirk on his face. Diefenbaker was also looking on with amusement- his human had been less than sympathetic the last time that Dief had a cold, let him suffer now.

Fraser was in the middle of a three ring circus.

Francesca's desk had been swept free of paperwork and Fraser had his head over a bowl of hot water, a towel draped over him to enclose the steam. Welsh and Dewey were in a knock-down drag-out argument over whether the water should contain menthol or sliced okra for best results. The desk sergeant was insisting that someone fry some onions to put on Fraser's chest to clear it of congestion.

Francesca kept lifting the towel to try to get Fraser to eat or drink concoctions she was brewing in the break room. His least favourite so far included honey, lemon, turmeric (from an unknown source) and garlic. Huey would shout at him to raise his left arm in the air every time he coughed. This particular order was incomprehensible, but Fraser was too distracted not to comply, which meant that Ray got to watch a sweet little sequence wherein Fraser would cough, Huey would snap "Raise your left arm!" and Fraser would nearly bean Francesca as she swooped in with another batch of vile home-remedy. The best part, Ray thought as his lips twitched with concealed laughter, was that none of them seemed to realize the splendid comic timing of their little routine.

Ray was doing a wonderful job at keeping his own cold symptoms on the down-low. Really, Fraser had a lifetime of not catching cold to make up for. And putting up with the plethora of disgusting efforts to cure the cold was a just punishment for scaring the hell out of Ray. He didn't think he'd ever forget the split second when Fraser fell. Remembering it gave him an odd, bad feeling in his stomach. Of course, he'd never forget the look of trust in Fraser's eyes when Ray caught him, either. Ray's smirk turned into a warm smile. He'd never let his partner fall. But the best part was that he was pretty sure his partner knew it, too.

Author's Note: Aww, sometimes you have to have fluff. I hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you think!