Saying it all

by CluelessKim

To save Fraser, Ray has to take the Mountie's freedom. Not Slash!

due South:

Saying It All, Without Saying a Word

By CluelessKim

March 2007

Author's disclaimer: Although the story is mine, it is a work of fiction based on the characters of Due South. All Characters portrayed here, with the exception of Nicholas Gordon (who is solely the from the author's imagination), belong to Alliance. Any mistakes are entirely that of the author's. Please do not print/copy/download or send any part of this story to anyone else, other than for your personal enjoyment. Thank you.

Author's notes:

1. This story takes place after Second Season's 'Flashback' and before Third Season's 'Burning Down the House'.

2. Depot is like a cross between US Military Boot Camp and the Police Academy for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

3. First Season's 'Pilot' episode, 'Free Willie' and 'Gift of the Wheelman' are briefly mentioned.

There are some spoilers for Second Season's 'Victoria's Secret'.

Any unmentioned episode references, I apologize for.

4. The word 'lieutenant' is spelt 'leftenant' to denote Fraser's pronunciation; however, the correct spelling is 'lieutenant'.

5. POV= Point Of View.

Ray's POV

1"VECCHIO!" Lieutenant Welsh bellowed a few hours before the end of my shift.

"Yes sir," I said as I entered his office.

"Where's the Mountie?" Something in his tone made my 'Mountie-In-Trouble Meter' skyrocket.

"Fraser? He should be here by the end of shift, sir. Why?"

He handed me a folder. I took it with much trepidation. As I looked over the file, my unease grew. Someone was out to get Fraser. Not just 'get' him, but also hurt him in ways that made me shudder. No way was I going to let him see this file!

Within minutes, the Lieutenant and I had thought of and discarded many ways of dealing with the situation. After our last idea hit the proverbial brick wall, Welsh waited a minute or two, and then said, "Well, he's your partner, what do you want to do?"

"I need to think about this, sir."

When Welsh dismissed me, I went back to my desk, and carefully reread the letters, my mind running through various scenarios. I had no clue how I could protect Benny without, well difficulties. See, Fraser's penchant for getting into trouble was only rivaled by his penchant for getting out of said trouble. And usually I am there to back him up, but this time I might not be around to do so if I didn't come up with a plan to stay with him twenty-four/seven, not mention a way to keep that sick bastard from getting the Mountie.

My fear was that the person behind the letters would in some way trap Fraser into promising to cooperate with his or her demands. Two reasons: Fraser's self-sacrificing nature and the fact that he never makes a promise he doesn't intend to keep, regardless of the consequences and with very few exceptions, he has kept his promises. Somehow, I had to find a way to keep Fraser from going with or talking to the perpetrator, all without Fraser knowing why.

When Fraser showed up, on time as usual, and greeted me with, "I trust you are…" an idea began to take form, but it wouldn't be easy.

I had to talk to Welsh before we left. "Benny, wait here." Not waiting for his response, I went to talk the Lieutenant.

Forty-five minutes later, Benny and I went out to the car. I drove to a secluded area. What Welsh and I had discussed was something I rather not do at all. However, it was the only way I could think of to protect the self-sacrificing Mountie and if my hunch was wrong…not going there.

Quite frankly, if our positions were reversed, I know I wouldn't be able to do what I was about to ask my friend and partner to do. See, I had to find out just how much Fraser trusted me, and I wasn't all that sure I wanted to know. Man, this wasn't going to be easy. He just might hate me when this was over. I haven't even asked him yet, and I already hate me.

Fraser's POV

Ray had been very quiet since I arrived at the station. He seemed troubled. Perhaps now that he had stopped and shut off the car he would tell me what was on his mind?

"Benny, how much do you trust me?"

"I trust you with my life, Ray." I answered without hesitation.

"I know ya trust me to…help you out of the situations you manage to get us into. We're partners, it's a given. But…"

At his pause I asked, "What are you asking, Ray?"

He swallowed a few times, and inhaled deeply before he replied, "Do you trust me enough to…" then muttered, "How to put this?" then continued, "Well, to be…my prisoner, I guess, for an indefinite period of time with no questions asked."

Before I could respond Ray said, "Don't answer yet…" I waited. "Before you decide, there are a few conditions you need to know about. As my…prisoner, you will have no freedom. You won't be allowed to speak, or move without my permission. If I give you an order I'll expect you follow it without hesitation, without question, no matter the situation."

"You mean you want me turn my freedom over to you?" I asked for clarification.

"Yeah Benny, that's pretty much what I am asking. I know I am asking a lot here, but I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. If you decide you don't trust me that much, I won't hold it against you." He looked away then. "Not sure I could." This last comment was said so quietly, that even with my hearing, I almost missed it.

"I'm going for a walk. Let me know what you decide when I get back." He started getting out of the car, and then paused. "Oh, if you decide you can…it starts when you tell me your decision and ends when I say it does." He got out of the car, shut the door and walked a short distance away.

Wow! I had once gone to prison to help Ray. But even they did not restrict me that much. Even Depot did not have such restrictions. The only thing close was guard duty.

I guess the real question was not whether or not I trust Ray, because I do, but whether I could follow his orders without question or hesitation, whether or not I could keep still and silent, no matter the situation, unless otherwise instructed by Ray for an indefinite period of time and without any further information.

'No matter the situation?' There was more to this request of Ray's than he was telling me. I knew him well enough though, to know that he would not tell me until he was ready. I may be able to get him to do things he normally wouldn't, but getting my friend to tell something he was not willing to talk about was a different matter all together.

I noticed Ray was not comfortable with the idea of me being his prisoner, but he is determined to go through with it if I am agreeable. And though I know he would understand if I refused, I believe it would hurt him in ways I can't imagine. To tell the truth, the decision was made the moment he asked how much I trust him.

Ray's POV

When I got back to the car, Benny was waiting patiently. He waited until I was settled in the car and then said ceremoniously, "I relinquish my freedom to you Ray. As of right now I will obey your orders without question or hesitation, regardless of the situation."

And just like that, I had absolute control of my friend and partner. He would do as I said, no matter what happened. As I started the car and headed for Fraser's apartment, I felt both relieved and scared. Relived that he trusted me this much, and scared that I might screw this up and get us both killed.

At his apartment, I had him change into and pack some civilian clothing. After changing into his jeans and a red flannel shirt, he put his uniform away and was going to wear his hat, but… "Benny, I know your hat means a lot to you, but as my" my voice cracked on the next word, "prisoner," I cleared my throat, "While you're my prisoner you aren't a Mountie. The Stetson stays." He simply put it in its rack, picked up his backpack and stood in the middle of the room waiting. "Done?"

"Yes Ray."

"Let's go drop Diefenbaker off with Turnbull. He has agreed to watch him for the duration." I know it was probably unwise, but I didn't want anything to happen to the half-wolf. Fraser would never forgive me.

Back in the car, I drove to the Consulate and then home and packed some clothes. Once we were on our way I handed my phone to Benny and told him to call Welsh and tell him we were on the road to our destination.

Fraser's POV

"Lieutenant Welsh." Ray's superior answered.

"Leftenant, Fraser. Detective Vecchio told me to tell you we are enroute."

"Good Constable. Tell him good luck." And he hung up.

"What did he say?" Ray asked me.

"He said, 'good luck' and hung up." I handed the phone back to Ray.

In the silence that followed I ventured, "Ray?"

"Yeah Benny?"

"Where are we going?" Just to make conversation.

"A motel. Look Benny, when we are in public, no talking unless I say so."

"Understood." I didn't speak again until a thought occurred, "May I talk without permission when we are alone?"

"That's fine Benny, so long as no one is with us." Least he was letting me talk to him.

We lapsed into a companionable silence for a while. "Benny?" He has been using his nickname for me far more than usual today.

"Yes Ray?"

"I don't know how long we are going to have to do this, but if anything happens to me…" he trailed off. I waited. "Look, you are my prisoner until I release you. If I become unconscious, stay with me, don't talk to anyone, but Lt. Welsh. He is the only other person that can release you from…being my prisoner, and then only if I am dead."

I started to worry, "You have reason to believe you may be harmed?"

"Yes Benny and I need your word you will do nothing but stay with me. You can't talk to, go with or chase the assailant. If I'm moved, just go with me." That made no sense.

Now, I really started to worry. "Ray?" I asked as we arrived at a motel.

Shutting off the motor, he turned with a very intense expression, "No questions. If you have any, and I mean any doubts about being able to do this, say so now. Otherwise, just promise me."

As I had my doubts about this situation as a whole, but none as to my ability to follow his orders, and was honor-bound to do as he asked/ordered, I gave the only response I could, "I promise, Ray."

He stared at me for a short time, "Good Benny. Good. Come on. Let's go get settled." We exited the car.

Ray's POV

Funny, but Benny wasn't the only one having to give trust. As we settled into the motel room, I realized that I had to trust Benny to keep his word and do as I said. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, Benny always keeps his word, but I know how he is (he'd chase misdemeanor criminals miles in a blizzard and has in Canada); I just hoped his word would be enough. It was getting complicated, but I reminded myself that this was to keep Benny safe, so I would continue this charade.

That night I handed him my cuffs, pouch and all, putting the key in his shirt's breast pocket, the look on his face was priceless. If it weren't for the circumstances, I would have laughed, as it was I couldn't even bring myself to smile. "Put them on your belt so you can get to them from behind. If I tell you to put them on, I want them behind you."

"Understood."

I had seen the brief moment of hurt, before he hid it. "They're not because I don't trust you, Benny."

"They're not?" Hopeful. He was so easy to read these days.

"Nope. Merely to make you less of a threat."

"Ah." He was relieved.

We went to our respective twin size beds and shut off the lights.

"Good night, Benny."

"Good night, Ray."

After a few minutes I called, "Benny?"

"Yes Ray?"

"No heroics. That's an order."

"Understood." For some reason I doubted that, but I trust him to keep his word.

Over the next two days, we settled into a routine. In public Benny was the model prisoner. Even his manners disappeared until I said something, which occurred after the first person he didn't hold the door for was knocked over. I told him he could hold doors, as long I was behind him. That worked. Other than that though, he spoke when I told him to, moved when I said to in public, and if he questioned any order I gave, he gave no indication that he did.

While we were alone I tried not to be so restrictive. I gave him some liberties in the motel room: unless we had company, he could move around as he wished there and talk freely. Oddly, whenever Fraser spoke he did so hesitantly, like he didn't want to…what's the metaphor? Ruffle my feathers? Step out of line? Man, I hate this. He never once tested his boundaries, but then, I never went overboard with my orders either.

Fraser's POV

Half way through my first week being Ray's prisoner, I wondered how Inspector Thatcher had responded to my absence. When I asked Ray, he told me that Leftenant Welsh had talked to her. Still.

Thirty minutes after I had asked, Ray brought me to the consulate; I think to ease my mind more than anything. He allowed me to talk to my furry friend. Diefenbaker seemed quite happy to see me. Ray too, though I suspect Dief just wanted Ray's donut.

We were standing by Turnbull's desk; he was off doing an errand, when Inspector Thatcher came out of her office. "Constable." Even out of uniform and unable to greet her verbally, I stood at attention and nodded my head in acknowledgement.

Ray narrowed his eyes at her, and waited. I got the impression that though she was aware of my 'incarceration', she was unaware of my restrictions. My suspicions were confirmed when she glared at me. "Constable?" She sounded quite upset with me.

"Don't go getting mad at him. It's not his fault he isn't talking right now." Ray told her. "It's mine. So back off." I was immensely tempted to say something.

After a moment or two he said, "Go ahead, Benny, you can talk to her."

"I apologize, sir." I was not sure what I was apologizing for; Ray's behavior or not greeting her properly.

Amazingly, the inspector said with much less ire, "Quite alright, Fraser. How are you doing?" Ray seemed surprised too.

"I'm well, sir. Thank you kindly. You?"

"Fine," she answered, and then muttered more to herself than us, "This better end soon." Suddenly she told Ray, "Detective, if he comes back to work at less than optimal performance, I'll have your badge." With that, she left, leaving us alone with Diefenbaker at Turnbull's desk.

"Wow! Fraser, that woman never ceases to amaze me." Ray was too cheerful.

"Ray, you didn't have to be so impolite." I admonished, temporarily forgetting my position.

"Impolite, Benny, would have been us leaving as she spoke. That was…"

"Rude."

"Fine. I shouldn't have talked to her like that. I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, Ray."

He glared at me for a full fifteen seconds, sighed and then said, "Wait here, I'll be right back." He knocked on the Inspector's door and entered.

"Arrggglll?" Diefenbaker asked.

"Well, I'm not supposed to talk, unless Ray says I can when we're not alone."

"Grrrlll." Dief commented.

My position was suddenly quite clear, "Oh dear." Though I must say, it felt good to have a normal conversation with Ray, I was still his prisoner; I should not have corrected him, especially in front of Diefenbaker. In any case, I had a good ten minutes to fret about it.

Ray came out of the Inspector's office, glanced at me then at Diefenbaker and looked all of a sudden worried as he looked back at me, "Fraser?"

"Yes Ray?" Trying for innocence, despite how guilty I felt.

"What's wrong?" How did he know anything was wrong?

"Grrlll arrrrll whine"

Ray responded to Diefenbaker's comment, "Ah. But I had given him permission to talk to you. So it would follow he could talk to me in your presence." Under normal circumstances, Ray's understanding of Diefenbaker would have had me question my partner, but as upset as I was, it went unaddressed.

"Traitor." I murmured to my four-legged friend.

Ray looked at me again, "Fraser, your office…now!" He sounded upset. Perhaps he had decided my behavior was unbecoming of a prisoner of his after all.

Ray's POV

There he goes again into the 'I've been a bad Mo…Prisoner' routine. Closing the door as I entered his office behind him, I turned. Fraser stood (as he did when he was on guard duty, staring straight ahead unblinkingly) looking like he was waiting for judgment to be passed, and not in his favor.

I had to tread carefully here. I didn't want him to clam up on me; he's tentative enough as it was. "OK, why the guilty look."

"I broke one of your rules." Obviously, I thought sarcastically.

"Which one?"

"No talking in public without your permission." Not the only reason he feels guilty, but I'll play along for now.

"Was I talking to you at the time?"

"Yes, Ray."

"And did I indicate at anytime during our exchange that you were breaking a rule?"

"No, Ray."

Then inspiration struck: "Fraser, who makes the rules right now?"

"You do, Ray."

"So, if I say you didn't break a rule, what would that mean?" I could tell he did not want to answer that. But I also know he would not reply until he agreed with his answer. So I waited.

"It means I didn't break your rule of speaking in public without permission," he finally said after wrestling with it for five minutes. I knew that this was not the only reason he was feeling guilty, but I had to get to the station, Welsh was waiting for me. I'd deal with the other reason later.

"Yes, Benny. You did not break any rules. OK?"

He looked at me for the first time since I entered his office, "OK Ray."

"Good. Now, I have to go to the station. You stay here. You may roam and talk in this building freely, or as freely as you normally would anyway, while you are here. I only have three restrictions: No answering or talking on phones, only talk to the consulate staff, including Diefenbaker, and stay in the building. I should be back in about three hours."

I turned to leave, but paused when he called, "Ray?" That tentative voice again.

"Yeah, Benny?" I turned back. He was a little less stiff now.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Benny." I smiled and he gave a small smile in return. I left then.

Fraser's POV

I managed to do some work while I waited for Ray to return. Turnbull, having returned from his errand, checked on me every fifteen minutes. I think Ray put him up to it, but I won't complain.

True to his word, Ray returned about three hours later. He and I took Dief for a walk, went to my apartment to check on things there, and then returned to the consulate where I said good-bye to Diefenbaker.

On the way back to our motel, I was still wondering how Ray let me talk to him the way I did. I had corrected him as his prisoner, I should not have done that, yet all he did was glare at me and then he apologized to the Inspector without further thought.

Suddenly he said, "OK Fraser, out with it."

"Out with what Ray?" I asked puzzled.

"I know there's something still bothering you, Fraser. And it has nothing to do with leaving Dief." Perceptive, but I really didn't want to talk about it.

"What makes you think there is something else bothering me?" I hedged.

"You're brooding." His understanding of my moods was disturbing.

"I am not brooding." I denied.

"Then what are you thinking about?" Of course, trying to stop an eighteen-wheeler might be easier than lying to Ray.

"Prisoners shouldn't correct their wardens." There, I'd said it.

"You were right, I was rude." He allowed.

"Doesn't make it right." I argued.

"You want to be punished for correcting me?" He asked in disbelief. I did not answer.

Ray was quiet for a long time; the rest of the ride was made in silence. In fact, Ray did not say another word to me until I came out from getting ready for bed.

"Turn around and don't talk." He didn't seem very happy as I turned around and remained silent. Taking my left wrist first, he put the cuffs on me and then turned me back around. "Until tomorrow night when it is time to get ready for bed, these will only come off while you get yourself together in the morning and during bathroom calls. Until tomorrow night, you will not move or speak unless I ask you a direct question or otherwise direct you to.

"When I take these off tomorrow night, your liberties, such as they are, will be restored. You will not, however, be allowed to brood about correcting me ever again. Do you have any questions regarding these orders?"

"No Ray." After all, I knew why, and he had made them clear.

"Sir…until tomorrow night." He corrected.

"No sir." I obliged.

"Good. Let's get you into bed." Ray pulled the covers down, let me get as comfortable as I could with the cuffs on and then tucked me in. He shut off the lights and went to bed.

The next morning, looking like he had gotten little to no sleep and his expression neutral, Ray took the cuffs off while I got dressed. My arms hurt a bit, but I would not complain, even if I were allowed. When I came back out the cuffs went back on.

We went out to breakfast. Ray ordered our food without asking me what I wanted. He fed me my food in between bites of his. Except to give me orders, he did not talk to me.

After eating breakfast, we walked around a bit. Ray kept a hold of my upper arm the whole time. When he bought some supplies, he asked if I needed anything. "Soap, toothpaste and shampoo, sir." I replied. Ray bought the brands I use.

When we got back to the motel, he asked if I had to go. I did. He took the cuffs off until I came back out. After I was secured, he had me sit on the bed, where I stayed, while he flipped though channels, napped and read. When he was ready to go eat again, I was once again asked if I had to go. I did not.

Lunch was a repeat of breakfast with different food. My arms were getting sore from being in the same position for so long. I moved them around as much I could, without letting Ray see, but it was getting worse and I still had at least another eight hours. Even the immobility of guard duty doesn't last this long.

I have no one to blame for my discomfort but myself. I should never have left Ray's question unanswered. I should have realized his patience had a limit.

We returned to the motel after our meal. I went to relieve myself, and then was secured and regulated to the bed again. While I sat in silence after lunch, Ray was watching TV when someone knocked at the door.

Ray went to answer it, and I heard him mutter, "Wondered when you'd show up." He then raised his hands as he backed up into the room until he was standing at the foot of the bed I was sitting on, blocking my view of the intruder.

Then the unknown man ordered Ray to, "Move aside." He moved one small step to the side, just enough for me to make eye contact with the man in front of him, but still stay between us.

The man was aiming his weapon, a 9mm Beretta 92DS with a silencer, at Ray. Appearing to be in his mid-fifties, the trespasser had jet-black hair and brown eyes. He was not much shorter than I, and had an athletic build.

The gunman was looking at me speculatively. His scrutiny soon started to make me feel uncomfortable. Ray tensed even more. "So, you brought him. Good." Brought me?

This man must be the reason behind why I am Ray's prisoner, though I still don't see how. I meant it when I said that I trust Ray with my life, but I questioned his rationale for my restrictions. Why the silence and immobility?

"Hands in the air Mountie." The unknown man commanded, distracting me from my reverie. How does this man know I am a Mountie?

Even with the weapon aimed at him, Ray said, "Sorry, but the Mountie is, and will remain, handcuffed." Despite the tension I felt from him, Ray's tone was calm.

I wondered right then, that if it meant Ray's life, would I be able to keep my promise. Would I betray my best friend's trust in me to save his life? I had a feeling I was about to find out the hard way.

"Handcuffed? Why?"

"He corrected me in front of his deaf half-wolf." Like this happened every day…actually it did, it's just that this time I was Ray's prisoner.

"Huh?" By the intruder's tone, I think that Ray's comment surprised him.

Ray's POV

Not wanting to take the chance that the nutcase would shoot Fraser I didn't even try to go for my gun. Instead, when ordered to move to one side, I stayed as between them as I could, prepared to shift should he aim at Benny.

I did not like the way the creep was staring at Fraser. I had confused the man with the truth, but he just shook it off. Then the perp, staying out of reach told Fraser to stand up.

When the perp started threatening his life, Benny did not move a muscle. Where the hell were the Duck Boys! Then the man threatened me. And when Benny did not budge, the gunman fired.

The force of the bullet hitting my arm spun me around away from the foot of the bed. I was now between the beds, and amazingly still on my feet. It had also made it so I was facing Fraser, and with a nod I tried to assure him, it was just a flesh wound.

The perp again ordered the Mountie to rise or the next shot would kill me. Though the look Fraser gave our only slightly unexpected guest was brief, it made me wonder for that brief moment if he was going to break his promise after all. Then the moment passed, he remained immobile and silent.

I waited one more beat and said, "Stand up, Fraser." He did so slowly. Still facing Fraser, I saw him try to warn me of something, when all of a sudden; I felt a sharp pain at the base of my skull and then…nothing.

Fraser's POV

Keeping one's word should never be this difficult. When Ray's life was threatened, I wanted to bring the attention of the man holding the gun off Ray. Then the man fired his gun. The blood on my partner's upper left arm worried me, but Ray was still on his feet. His nod told me he would be all right.

Then the gunman told us the next one would kill Ray. Every fiber of my being wanted to say or do something, but I had promised Ray, and trust him, so I stayed my course. It wasn't easy though. To say I was relieved when Ray let me stand up would be an understatement.

While my friend was still recovering his equilibrium, I watched the intruder walk up behind Ray. I saw the gunman raise his pistol to strike, and tried to warn Ray without moving or talking, but he went down before he could do anything.

The man made and held eye contact with me for a bit and then said, "The cop thinks he is so smart. He's out cold, leaving you defenseless, which makes it that much easier for me." He motioned with his weapon for me to move toward the door. "Now we leave."

Wanting to check on Ray, but not able to I stepped over Ray's body, and stood as I do on guard duty. The only difference was when Ray's life was threatened again; I kept my body between Ray and the gunman. Protecting Ray in this way was and would be the only movements I made without his permission. I would deal with the consequences later.

1

Gunman's POV

1My test subjects were in room 36. Good, they were following my instructions…thus far. There were two cops outside across the street from this nice rundown motel, you would think those two hadn't done a stakeout before, arguing instead of watching the room they are assigned to watch. Idiots! Those two, however, were of no concern to me; I would expect nothing less from my current test subjects. Still…I made sure they well and distracted before I made my move.

Now, the two in room 36, my current experiment, a Chicago flatfoot and a Canadian Mountie, are downright intriguing. They are as different as night and day; one is out spoken the other quiet; one is polite the other obnoxious. In my research of the two, I found out that ever since the Mountie came down to find his father's killers the two have been inseparable…I want to know just how inseparable.

Further research had me curious as to just how good the good Mountie was. See, the Mountie's reported conduct fascinated me. I had chosen him as my next test subject because he was just too good to be true. Everyone I questioned about the man said that he was courteous to the extreme, yet even his own countrymen didn't want him (he had arrested a fellow Mountie for killing another Mountie, his father.) I wanted to see for myself just what kind of man he was.

As for the cop, well, why did he keep hanging out with the Mountie? My inquires about the man all said he was loud, obnoxious, and not even close to courteous, they were nothing alike. Plus, as I researched even further, I had to know, how does a friend shoot another in the back…literally?

I have been observing them since they got here a few days ago, and until this morning the Mountie hadn't been cuffed. Wonder what changed? Regardless, lunch was over and it was time to get the show on the road.

The first thing I noticed when I closed the door behind me, was how protective the detective was of the Canadian. He stood at the foot of one of the beds blocking my view of the Mountie. When I told him to step aside he took me literally, but took only a half step to the left, just enough for an unobscured view of the Mountie.

The Mountie for his part, sat at the head of the bed, his legs over the side, his torso turned toward me, his back straight, his arms behind him, watching me. The man did not move or speak. Well ok, technically he moved, but only his head as his partner and I spoke.

The flatfoot had him cuffed…because the Mountie corrected him in front of the Mountie's deaf half-wolf? Huh??? After a brief pause I decided I did not want to know. So instead of asking for clarification, I told the Mountie to get up.

He didn't so much as budge. Tried threatening him, tried shooting his friend, still nothing. Oh, his expression showed concern as he watched the wounded one recover, but the stubborn man sat there, neither moving nor speaking.

Then something I have never seen before happened. When I told the cop that, "If the Mountie doesn't get up, I will kill you with the next shot." you could actually see that the Mountie wanted desperately to do or say something... anything.

Oddly, he looked pleadingly to the cop, as if asking permission. Odder still, the detective gave a minute negative shake of his head. For a moment it looked like the Canadian might disregard the detective's silent disapproval, however, when the young man in question looked back to me, his expression was one of determined resolve.

He neither spoke nor moved, so, I waited a few more beats, the Mountie's expression never wavered, he merely sat there. My trigger finger was tightening on my gun when the cop told the Mountie to stand up. The relief the Canadian displayed was comical. I relaxed my grip, as I only killed my test subjects if they didn't do as instructed.

A change in tact was in order, while the Italian-American was still recovering his equilibrium I went and knocked him cold with the butt of my gun. If looks could kill I would have been a dead man, yet despite his obvious anger at me, the Mountie remained silent and unmoving. Still, I was hoping he would be a little more co-operative now that the other one was no longer able to give orders.

"The cop thinks he is so smart. He's out cold, leaving you defenseless. Which makes it that much easier for me." I motioned toward the door with my pistol, "Now we leave."

The Mountie stepped over the prone man, took two steps and stopped. The only time he moved thereafter was when I tried to get a direct aim on the prone man. By using his body as a shield between the Chicago Cop and me, I could not shoot without shooting the Mountie too. This I was not quite ready to do, unless I had no choice. So, after not getting anywhere for a few minutes, I muttered, "Impressive."

I meant it, I was impressed. The Mountie had not moved, except to protect the fallen man, without the said fallen man's permission, nor had he spoken. I began to wonder just what the two were up to. Then, realizing that my plan was thwarted, though still unsure how that happened, I muttered, "Perhaps the Detective is smarter than I gave him credit for." It had to be the cop's idea, this not talking or moving on the Mountie's part.

That was about the time the prone man came to, "Argh! What happened?"

"You were shot and then hit in the head, Sir." The Mountie answered.

"So, the Mountie speaks after all." Both of them glared at me, and then ignored me...somewhat.

Using the Canadian for balance the detective slowly got to his feet. "What are you doing, Fraser?" His tone suggested the Mountie had done something wrong.

I swear the Mountie's expression said 'Oh, dear!' Weird.

"Uh..." was all he got out before the cop dismissed the subject by saying, "Never mind. Sit down." The Mountie promptly went back to his previous spot at the head of the bed. Then the cop returned to his place between the Mountie and myself, only now the detective stood closer to his partner.

After watching this exchange, I decided it was time to regain control of the situation. "Very interesting behavior, Constable, very interesting, do you always do as this flatfoot tells you?" The man looked at the cop and then back at me, but said nothing, nor did he give any other indication one way or the other.

So I continued as if the previous five minutes hadn't happened, "Having been conducting tests," I saw the duo exchange a brief glance at that, "of this sort for a few decades now and seeing so called 'friends' beg for their own lives, leaving the other to fend for themselves has been quite disheartening." Thus far they had passed my test…but I still had unanswered questions and I wasn't leaving until I got those answers. Still…"I am far from finished with you two."

Turning to the Canadian I demanded, "Tell me, how does a Chicago Cop get a Mountie, men who always get their man, to act the way you have, eh?" I could tell he wanted to respond, but he did not. I turned to the cop, "You threaten him in some way?" It was possible after all…

"No." was the cop's only answer, and then he asked, "What did you do to the guys outside?" I saw the Mountie's head turn sharply to his partner. He didn't know about the guys outside. Hmm.

"Nothing. They didn't see me, distracted as they were with other things." I regarded the Canadian again, "So, Mountie…"

"Hey, you have something to say, you talk to me." The cop boldly stated.

"What? He can't speak for himself?"

"Only if I allow him to."

"What is going on here? He corrects you in front of his wolf…"

"Deaf half wolf." The cop automatically corrected.

"Whatever. Now he can't move or speak?"

"That's right."

"Just what hold do you have over him?"

"Has to do with something I doubt you would understand."

"Doubt I would understand!?" Did he doubt my intelligence? Then I saw that the Mountie really wanted to speak, but still maintained his silence. And despite my frustration with this…this flatfoot, I noticed that though he was as tense as a drum, the man remained calm…serene almost. Maybe there was more to the cop's statement than it appeared.

Still I was getting annoyed. "Well, the way you keep answering me, possibly. Perhaps the Constable can explain it to me, or are you afraid to let the Mountie speak?" I challenged. Sighing, the detective gave in and told his partner to answer the question.

Suddenly on the spot the man started to say something, then stopped, I'm assuming thinking better about what he was about to say. "Fraser?" The cop asked never taking his eyes from mine.

The Constable sounded apologetic as he answered, "Sorry R-Sir, I don't mean to delay. I am merely trying to..."

"It's ok Fraser. Take your time." The cop understandingly interrupted.

Moments later the Mountie straightened, if that is possible, "Ah. I have given…" he paused, began again, "…I have given my warden my word to do as he says."

It explained why the Canadian obeyed the cop, but not...

Then the cop asked, "Why are we here?" thus distracting me from my thoughts.

Why indeed. They had passed my test of true friendship, but the one thing that had me choose to test them in the first place was still a quandary. "You two are such an unlikely pair, a Chicago Flatfoot and a Canadian Mountie. There was an incident a few years ago, a shooting. It piqued my interest so, that I did a bit of research. I have been watching you both off and on for a year now, and I still don't understand. How does one friend shoot the other in the back…literally?" The look on their faces was identical, guilt and anger. The woman must have done a number on them for that kind of reaction.

All my sources on the subject were very conflicting. Some said it was an accident, the Mountie was going to arrest the Metcalf woman, others said it was to keep the Mountie from fleeing. And having watched these two, it just didn't add up…either way. Hoping the Mountie would answer, I demanded of him, "What did you do to make him shoot you?"

"Do not answer that, Fraser." It was a command, not a request.

"What did he do?" I demanded yet again, only from the cop instead.

"It was an accident," was all the cop was going to say. Which I could tell was true, but their reactions said there was much more to it than that.

In the silence that followed, there was a tentative, "Sir?"

"Yeah, Fraser." He looked resigned.

"Respectfully request to speak?"

"Sure, Fraser, but when you're done, you're done." I was surprised he had given permission, as he was so adamant that the Mountie not answer earlier.

"Understood." He paused again then addressed me, "If R-my friend had not fired when he did, I would be dead."

And in that one sentence he said quite a lot. Seriously. But was it because he didn't want to arrest the woman, or because going with the woman he would have hated his life there after? "Hmm." Granted I did not know the details of the case, but if he thought the cop shooting him was a good thing, who was I to argue.

I reviewed what I knew of these two men and figured he was right, accident or no. During this little get together I had learned a few things about them: Fraser is a man of his word, no matter the personal cost and the cop cares a great deal for his friend and he seems to have thwarted me somehow. I had what I came for, even if I had more questions than when I came in.

"Thank you, gentlemen, I was beginning to think friendship didn't exist. However, you two have shown me that there is hope." It was time to leave, so I bolted for the door.

Fraser's POV

Ray stared at the door a moment in shock. Then snapping out of it, he grabbed his gun and told me to stay put as he went after the gunman. As I waited for his return, I pondered the events of the past few hours.

'Guys outside.' Huey and Dewey? Why?Suddenly I understood, or thought I did anyway. Ray had manipulated me and used me as bait. I was stunned.

There were so many ways things could have gone wrong. The suspect could have killed either or both of us. That Ray even arranged for me to be 'released' by Leftenant Welsh should he be killed and I survive not obeying a man with a gun did not make sense. None of this made sense. And yet, Ray trusted me to do as he ordered.

"Son?" Manipulation or not I was still a prisoner of my promise and under orders not to speak without permission. Unfortunately, my father was not that easy to ignore. I sighed.

"Dad." I whispered hoping talking to him did not get me in more trouble with Ray.

"Why aren't you with the yank? And why are you whispering?"

"Because, Dad. I'm forbidden to move or speak without Ray's permission, and I'm handcuffed." I turned to show him.

"Oh." I turned back. "What's with the cuffs, son?"

"Punishment."

"For what?"

"I corrected Ray when I shouldn't have."

"Ah." like he understood. "So what are you going to do?"

"Do about what? The cuffs?"

"No son, the Yank." He sounded exasperated, and I had no idea why.

That was of course at the same time that Ray returned saying, "Talking to yourself again, Fraser?" Oh dear.

Ray's POV

The creep had given me a run for my money, but I caught him. As I returned to the room, after handing the suspect over to the now undistracted Duck Boys and having my arm and head tended to, I heard Fraser talking quietly to himself. I asked him, "Talking to yourself again, Fraser?" Looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar I heard his unspoken 'oh dear'. What, I wondered; did he think I was going to do if he did not do what I say?

Detective Huey came in, returning my spare cuffs, greeted Fraser and left. I waited until they pulled away, before closing the door and demanding, "Answer the question, Fraser."

"In a manner of speaking, sir." the look on my face must have spooked him, 'cause he started to explain. "I was talking to my father. I know he's dead, but…"

I let him off the hook, "Yeah, I remember you telling me about it once. It's ok."

Fraser rolled his shoulders. His pain seemed to be getting worse. Benny has been trying not to let it show, but I noticed. I wanted to remove the cuffs…hell, I wanted to free him from this mess I had created, but Benny wanted to atone. Besides, he'd argue if I tried to free him before his 'punishment' was over. He's weird like that. Who would have thought that being the 'warden' of this Mountie would be so…difficult?

We still had one more meal and a few hours after that to go. Perhaps a brief respite could be given; the cuffs came off long enough for him to relieve himself. Then once he was again situated on his bed I told him, "We're staying here, until that wacko is completely processed." Not taking any chances. I'll release him when his 'atonement' is over.

Fraser's POV

An hour later, Ray's cell phone rang. "Vecchio." "You're sure?" "Damn." "Yeah, OK." "Thanks Lieutenant." He hung up and put the phone away.

"Unfortunately, this isn't over yet." He zoned for a moment, returning with a false cheer. "Let's go get something to eat."

As I was quietly fed my meal, I worried about Ray. He has been pensive since the phone call.

Then, "How so, Fraser?"

"How so what, sir?"

"You said you would've died if I hadn't fired. How so?"

Ah, "I would have hated the man I would have become."

Ray accepted this with a nod. We finished our meal in silence.

We returned to the hotel, and after having relieved myself, I sat on the edge of the bed once more. Ray still wasn't talking to me, so I sat there thinking. This punishment of his: forced silence and immobility was effective. When I am allowed to speak again, I will assure him that I understand today's lesson. The lesson being that he is my friend, but if my conscience needed to be eased while I am his 'prisoner', he would oblige.

Ray's POV

Finally, the time came to take the damn things off and put them away. I handed them to him so he could put them back in their pouch, which he did. "Ray." He called as he tried to get circulation back. It looked quite painful.

"Yeah, Benny?" I responded feeling guilty.

"Understood." And with that one word, I knew he'd learned today's lesson, and would do his best not to make me repeat it. I gave him a slight nod in acknowledgement.

We went to bed and shut off the lights. "Good night, Benny."

"Good night, Ray."

Sleep did not come quickly as I had too much on my mind. I wish I could release Fraser from his predicament with me, so we could talk about it; damn I hate keeping him in the dark, but Welsh called and said the creep managed to get away. So, now we wait yet again.

That comment about dying if I hadn't shot him was odd. His explanation made sense though. Victoria (If I ever see her again, I'll…) framed him for murder, shot his wolf, making it so he would have no reason to stay. She would have turned him into the very criminals he risks his life to bring to justice. It would have destroyed him…figuratively and literally. She nearly did as it was.

The next morning after breakfast, my phone rang again, "Vecchio…They did? He is? Two days? Both of us? Uh, no, sir. Yes sir." I hung up.

God! Sitting down on my bed, I ran a hand over my bowed head. "Well, we have the next two days off." I informed the Mountie. I should have released him right then, but my guilt held me back.

He was going to be so upset when he figured out why I made him my prisoner, and if he had not already, he would. Of that, I have no doubt. Fraser's deductive skills were astronomical. I just hoped I didn't screw this up any more than I already had.

"Ray?" Tentative again, like I would bite his head off or something if he wasn't careful. He'd been so careful in public, waiting until I either gave him permission or an order to do something. And though in the hotel room, I had given him the liberty of movement and speech when we were alone, he was hesitant as if he was afraid to cross me.

Not wanting him to see how guilty I felt, I didn't look up. I had to tell him about this case. Not the contents of the letters I had read. No way. He would turn a brighter red than his red serge tunic. But I did have to tell him something, and without lying. I owed him that, and so much more.

I sighed. "Look, Fraser, you have to promise me that in no way, shape or form will you attempt to find any answers beyond what I'm about to tell you. And please don't interrupt."

"I promise, Ray."

Fraser's POV

Ray sounded resigned. The look in his eyes, when he finally looked up at me was so pain filled that I gasped. "Fraser, I'm so sorry…for this whole damn situation…I'm sorry. I should never have asked you to be my prisoner. It's just…" he paused and I wanted to say something, anything to alleviate his pain, but he had effectively stopped me from even trying.

He took a deep breath and began, "The perp's name was Nicholas Gordon. He's, uh, dead now, killed resisting arrest. That's what the call was about.

"Anyway, the day this started Lieutenant Welsh called me into his office about two hours before you arrived. He handed me a file that contained many letters to various people, police reports, photos and a profile sheet. The letter on top of the pile was addressed to me, about you." Ray got up and began to pace.

"This Gordon guy liked to mess with heads. He would write a letter to someone he thought was close to his intended victim and have the addressee bring the victim to wherever he told him or her in the letter. 'Course, he also told the addressee exactly what he planned to do to the vic too." It was the content of these letters that Ray did not wish me to be privy to. Of that, I had no doubt. Nor would I try to find out.

"For added incentive, if they failed to show, or his intended victim knew why he or she was there, the vic would die. The first few people turned up dead. The victims that went through with it, well, let's just say…they weren't the same anymore."

"When you came in that day, the only word I remember you saying was 'trust' and a plan slowly took shape. Welsh wasn't happy with my plan, but gave the go ahead any way, as it was the best we had.

He stopped pacing and looked at me intensely. I did not interrupt as he said. "I wasn't going to let him have or kill you. Not on my watch."

He started pacing again after a few moments and continued, "Anyhow, the Lieutenant called Inspector Thatcher and Turnbull. And the rest is history."

He was protecting me that much was obvious. That explained why he wouldn't tell me anything. It also explained why we went to the hotel, and why he stayed between Mr. Gordon and me. His explanation, however, did not explain why I had to remain silent and immobile or why he felt it so important for me to be his prisoner, rather than his partner during this case.

I recalled Mr. Gordon's words, 'Very interesting behavior, Constable, very interesting, do you always do as this flatfoot tells you?' My behavior had surprised him. And, 'Perhaps the Detective is smarter than I gave him credit for.' It seemed Ray had also surprised him.

As I pondered this, I began to understand: somehow, Ray had figured out how to outwit this criminal. He knew that if I had spoken or moved any other way than I had, we…I might not have survived. Ray's intuitiveness had saved me and not only from Mr. Gordon, but…from myself as well. The enormity of what Ray had done for me…it hit me hard.

Ray's POV

Story over, I ran my hand down my face. Guilt, shame, they didn't even begin to define how I was feeling about this mess. I should not have asked him to be my damn prisoner. I couldn't look at Fraser. I couldn't face his pain or his guilt right then. And I know he is feeling both…

"Thank you." I looked up sharply, about to ask what for when it came to me, he knew. He knew my reasons went beyond what I had just told him. He knew I had used his trust to protect him from himself.

Gordon's letters all suggested that he was willing to kill, yes, but something about the way the man had worded it had my instincts screaming: keep Fraser quiet and still! It was essential if we were going to survive relatively intact. Fraser would have sacrificed himself for me (or a total stranger), which in and of itself is not a bad thing, but he does it all the time. Sometimes I wonder if he has a death wish or something, but I know he doesn't, it is just the way he is. Making Fraser my prisoner was the only way I could think of to maintain some control of the situation.

Now, anyone else, including me, would be madder then hell about his trust being used to protect him, but not Fraser. He is so forgiving of the way others treat him. It irritated me, especially when I did not deserve that forgiveness, like now. "You're welcome!" I said a little sharper than I intended.

Damn, he looked hurt again just before he put on his 'Mountie' mask. OK, so his reasons for being tentative are valid. I hate myself, sometimes. I sighed again and said, "I am going for a walk. Start packing; we'll head back when I return. Don't open the door or leave the room. I won't be long." With that, I took the room key and left.

I stood outside the door to our room, listening to him move around. He was no doubt packing and cleaning up. I have wanted nothing more than this…this situation to be over, and now that it was I found I was not quite prepared to release my prisoner.

That would mean I would have to acknowledge his pain and his guilt. Not to mention my own guilt. And I was so not ready to deal with that. I am such a coward.

Fraser's POV

While I packed our things and tidied up the room, my thoughts returned to Ray's odd behavior during this whole ordeal. As wardens go, Ray has been very lenient with me. He has been thoughtful and patient. He has given me more liberties then I expected when he asked me to be his prisoner. And if I seem tentative when I talk to Ray, it was because…well, I do not wish to over step my bounds.

Unfortunately, I managed to not only step over my bounds, but in the course of less than thirty-six hours have upset him twice. The first because I didn't talk, he didn't enjoy 'teaching' me that lesson. I doubt he would have done anything, if I hadn't pushed him into it. He did it for my peace of mind, not his.

And thanking him has upset him anew. I had thought perhaps to spare him; instead, I seem to have distressed him more than he already was. Why thanking him had troubled him so, I do not understand.

Dad asked what I was going to do. Well, until Ray releases me I will continue as I have been. After that, I don't know.

Ray eventually returned. We packed the car and headed out. As we traveled to…well, wherever he was taking us, neither of us spoke, the silence getting unbearable, but I was afraid to break it. I did not want to upset him more than I already had.

Before we entered the 27th precinct, he told me I could talk and move freely there, but I was to stay in the building until he was ready to go. We gave our reports, which took up all morning and left.

When we arrived at the consulate, Ray told me to get Diefenbaker. He would wait in the car. It took longer than expected. Inspector Thatcher intercepted me before I got far, "Leftenant Welsh has requested that you have two days off, which I have granted."

"That's kind of you, sir."

She glared at me a moment as she inspected me head to toe, then her expression thawed somewhat, "You look like you could use it, Constable." Her tone had sounded concerned, odd. "Get some rest, Fraser. You have a lot of work to catch up on."

"Understood."

"Dismissed." Collecting Diefenbaker, I left.

When I let Diefenbaker in the back and I slid into the car twenty minutes after I had left, Ray was still uncommunicative. The uncomfortable silence lasted the short ride to my apartment building, once there, Ray said, "Do what you normally do when you're home, Fraser. Just be out here at eight tomorrow morning." He paused while Dief and I got out, "Get some sleep." Then he drove off.

As I walked Diefenbaker in the park, I wondered again about Ray's reluctance to return my freedom. Except to give me orders, he hadn't spoken to me since he responded to my thank you. I know he didn't want to be my warden, but his unwillingness to release me from my promise was confusing.

Ray's POV

Fraser was waiting for me when I arrived at eight the next morning. I shook my head as he and the wolf got in. Knowing him, he has been there for a few hours.

"Ray?"

"Nothing, just thinkin'."

After breakfast, I drove for a while, no particular designation in mind. Fraser watched the traffic go by in silence. Damn. Finally, I stopped in an abandoned lot.

"Ray…" he said tentatively at the same time I said determinately, "Fraser…"

Coward that I am I said, "Go ahead Fraser."

He was staring out the windshield as he began, "First, understand I am not asking for 'punishment', though if you choose to do so, I will understand."

"Fraser." My tone held a warning.

He brushed a thumb over his brow and continued, still not looking at me, "Well, I moved without your permission while you were unconscious. I kept myself between you and being shot. Again."

Yeah, I had figured that out when I came to and he was at my feet instead of by my head where he should have been. "No harm, no foul." I told him. For some reason, he didn't seem relieved.

After a few minutes of silence I said, "Fraser?"

When he continued he sounded more hurt than angry, "I deliberately stayed immobile and silent while your life was…" he trailed off, and looked out the passenger window.

I tried to explain, "You know, this whole situation sucks. Hell, I don't even know why I felt it necessary for you to be my prisoner in the first place. All I can say is…I'm sorry." The words felt so inadequate.

Fraser turned back to me surprised, "For what, Ray? For protecting me?" He turned away again.

Damn. Once again, I felt like a class 'A' jerk and his forgiving me was making it worse. "No Benny, not for protecting you. For the way I went about it." I clarified. He did not move. His willingly doing nothing while I was in danger hurt him deeply. He felt guilty about protecting me, because he had to break part of his promise to do so.

His need to get out of the car was almost tangible, but I knew he wouldn't leave unless I said he could. Yeah, maybe we both needed a few minutes, "If you need to leave the car, go ahead, just…" he shot out so fast it startled me, "…don't go far." I finished on a sigh.

Yeah, he had forgiven me to some extent for the pain I had caused, but not himself for whatever he thought he had done wrong. He would beat himself up about this if I let him, but unsure how to deal with it my fear grew. Damn it! I had to do something! I got out of the car and went after him.

Fraser's POV

Leaving the car, I walked quickly away. I haven't felt like crying in a long time. Not since Victoria. It's odd that when I first figured out what Ray had been doing and why, I wasn't upset. In fact I was…am grateful that he would go to such lengths to protect me, but…

"Ben?" Great, now Dad was back.

I didn't turn toward him, but kept walking as I said, "I was so afraid when I saw Ray spin around and then saw blood on his shirtsleeve. Then when he was knocked unconscious… I broke my word, Dad."

"How so, Son?"

"He had told me to stay put when others were with us. I moved so I was between him and the gunman."

"Would he have killed me if you hadn't?" Ray asked quietly. I hadn't heard him come up behind me. I stopped, but remained facing away from him.

"He said he was going to."

"So, in your expert opinion, he would have?"

"I couldn't take the chance."

"Exactly." I turned. He continued, "Did you talk to him?"

"No."

"Did you leave me?"

"No."

Then Ray exploded, "Damn it, Fraser, you didn't break your word!" Ray spun around and walked angrily away, back towards the car.

A glace at my father showed he was as perplexed as I was by Ray's outburst. Still, my father agreed with Ray, "Listen to him, Benton."

"Ray?" I called tentatively before he got more than a meter.

Ray turned and advanced toward me with such an intense mixture of pain and anger, I didn't realize I was in retreat until I backed into something. Using an index finger to punctuate each word with a jab at my chest, he demanded, "Why are you feeling so guilty?" Other than dropping his arm, Ray stood his ground. His intense gaze never left mine.

He didn't wait for an answer; his arms began flailing as he spoke, "You're not the one who… And refuses to…first because… and now because…" I don't believe I have ever heard him sputter like that before.

"Damn it, Fraser!" For a moment, Ray looked ready to hit me. He had his arm back and his hand made a fist. I didn't dare move. In fact, I barely breathed as, his tone low and dangerous, he continued, "You did not do anything wrong!" His arm dropped.

I moved without permission, disobeyed a direct order. I broke my prom… "Understood?"

No, I didn't understand, but he was waiting for an answer. After two aborted attempts to speak, I had to clear my throat before I managed an, "Understood."

"Mountie's don't lie, my…" Ray muttered as he whirled away and once again angrily strode toward the car. When he had reached the mid point between the car and myself, and noticed I hadn't moved, as I was still in shock, he yelled over his shoulder, "Get in the car, Constable!" That galvanized me into motion, only I moved more sedately. He was well and truly angry and I wasn't entirely sure why.

Ray's anger kept me silent as he drove us to my apartment building. "In your apartment, same rules apply as the hotel room. Go, and take your stuff and Dief with you. I'll be up shortly." Though he sounded resigned and dejected, I could still detect a note of anger.

I took my stuff and Diefenbaker up to my apartment. As there was no telling when Ray would come up, I unpacked, made tea and otherwise kept busy.

Ray's POV

I came sooo close to hitting him. I think his bewildered expression was the only thing that kept me in check. It's just that his guilt makes me feel worse, then I get angry and it snowballs.

It's just…he doesn't understand. Like the whole 'correction' issue, he just would not let it go. His guilt was pissing me off. His forgiving me pissed me off. I'm mad as hell right now, but…more at myself for hurting him, than at him. 'Course, I seem to always take it out on him and he nowhere near deserves it.

Somehow, when Fraser got in the car, the tone of his silence changed, if that makes any sense. Like he expected me to, I don't know, give him a harsher, more painful 'punishment' or something. I guess using his rank like that was unwise. Good going, Vecchio, way to show your friend that you care. Hurt the guy while he's down.

DAMN IT!!!! I'm the guilty one here!I'm the one who demanded his partner be his prisoner. And refuses to release said partner, first because the guilt was too much and now because, well, I am afraid that if I release him before we clear the air, sorta speak, I'll lose him somehow.

By the time we got to his apartment, despite my self-anger, I was bone weary of it all. I just wanted it to end. Still, I couldn't say the three words necessary to terminate his being my prisoner. Not yet. We had to talk first, come to some kind of understanding.

Getting out of my car and hoping to keep my anger under control, I trudged doggedly up to apartment 3J. It was the longest trip I ever made. My heart heavy with what I had yet to undergo, I knocked and walked in to face the music.

Fraser's POV

Ray walked in, closed the door and just stood there with his eyes closed. I don't know what I expected, but not this: he looked…well, lost. Ray was feeling guilty about the whole situation, yet he seemed unwilling to release me. Perhaps I might get him to see the futility of it all.

"Ray, you don't have anything to feel guilty about either." I began. I got up from where I was sitting at the table and started to pace. To my bed and back. He must've opened his eyes because I could feel him watching my every move.

I heard him swallow convulsively a few times. "How can you say that? I manipulated you, used you and still haven't…" pain and anger were still evident in his tone.

As I continued to pace, it struck me that we seemed to have switched roles, usually he paced while I stood still. Strangely, I found comfort in this role reversal. Gave me an idea on how I might be able to ease some of his guilt.

Having heard enough self-incrimination, I cut him off, "You risked our lives?"

"Yes." He answered without hesitation.

"And our friendship?"

"Yes."

"My sanity?"

"Your sanity?" That question sounded confused.

I stopped pacing, stood in front of him, "You think watching your friend shot and knocked unconscious while you did nothing all because of a promise you made was easy?"

He looked away, "Uh, no. I don't, but…" guilt was heavy in his voice.

"You did all this to protect me, not just from Gordon, but from myself?"

He looked back up, his answer a little longer in coming, the guilt still evident, "Yes."

"Why did you feel it necessary to protect me this way?" I was curious, not upset.

He took even longer answering, "I had a hunch that he wouldn't kill you out right, something he said in those letters of his, but he might once you went with him. I know you, Fraser. You would have gone with him and tried to talk him out of his plans, and maybe it would have worked, but I could not nor would I take that chance." That last was spoken with such conviction it startled me.

"That my life means so much to you…well quite frankly boggles my mind." He had looked back at me sharply by the time I had said 'you'.

"Boggles?" I heard confusion and for reasons I didn't understand, hurt.

"Yes, Ray. Boggles…"

"It boggles your mind?" Disbelief tinged his words. And as I watched, it turned to frustration. Why this upset him so was beyond me.

"I…"

"You know what? I am too tired to deal with this anymore today. Don't leave your apartment except to use the bathroom until I return." With that, he left.

I stood there totally baffled. I had hurt him. Why would he feel so strongly about it boggling me?

"Ben, do you think your life is worth less than his?"

"Of course not, Dad. What kind of question is that?"

"A serious one, Son. The way you said it, it sounded as if you shouldn't mean so much to the yank. That young man cares a great deal for you, Ben."

"It's just…" he didn't let me finish.

"You know, Buck and I never had to go to such elaborate lengths to protect each other, but I would like to think we would have if the need arose.

"Friendship like yours and the yank's is a rare thing, son. If I were you, I would start thinking about what you are going to say to him when he returns." And then he was gone.

Great. Now Ray thinks I have insulted our friendship. And Dad seems to agree. I am beginning to think I am in big trouble.

Ray's POV

Benton Fraser, the most infuriating man I know! There we were having a good 'clear the air' conversation, and then, WHAM, our friendship is boggling. I mean I know Fraser thinks his life is not worth the sacrifice of others, but…I do. His life means more to me than…anything, including our friendship. Least if he's alive, there's hope that we can mend our fences.

It was lunchtime, and I was too upset to eat. Not wanting to think any more, I went back to the station. I called Willie to ask him to take Dief until Fraser picked him up. After I reassured the kid that the Mountie was unharmed, he agreed. The wolf taken care of, I tried to do some paperwork. My inability to concentrate precluded that task. Still, I tried.

Around suppertime, Welsh saw me and ordered me to go home. I wasn't supposed to be there anyway. So, I went home and straight to bed, not that I slept much.

Early the next morning, Fraser-kind of early not mine, I got up and went to the consulate. Our two days were over; I had to talk to the Dragon Lady about giving Fraser another day off. Otherwise, he would get in trouble for being AWOL.

I knocked on her office door. "Come in."

Entering I said, "Inspector Thatcher, ma'am." I did my best to keep my tone respectful despite my rolling emotions.

The look she gave me seemed surprised. "Detective, how may I help you?"

I told her what I wanted and why. She agreed. It was my turn to be surprised. "Detective, every time you two argue, he mopes. And though it doesn't affect his work performance, moping does not suit him."

Ah. "Thank you, Inspector."

"You're welcome." I left.

Next, I went to see Welsh. He gave me the extra day, muttering something about moping detectives.

Around eleven o'clock, still not ready to see Fraser, I went home. Ma was the only one there, and Ma being Ma, I was telling her what my troubles were before I could think better of it.

"It's like he thinks I shouldn't be his friend or something." I finished.

Ma said, "Perhaps, Raimundo, you should consider how Benito sees it. From what you have said, being a man of his word, Benito probably does feel guilty for breaking even part of his promise. As for the boggling, my adopted son is not used to people caring so much. To one not used to such things, it can be overwhelming when even one person shows how much he cares. It is even possible that he does not understand why you would care so much."

"I suppose." After thinking about that a while I said, "Thanks for listening Ma."

"Anytime, Raimundo." I kissed her and left.

It was after one when I finally decided to brave the Fraser waters again. I knocked and let myself in. In his haste to stand, he knocked over his chair. When I turned to him after closing his door, he was once again at attention, facing me but not looking at me. "Detective Vecchio."

Damn. I shouldn't have waited so long. His formality was a direct result of my behavior last night. It was his way of saying, 'Sorry Ray for upsetting you. I don't know how I upset you, but I will endeavor not to do so again.' Yeah, I understand him better than even I am comfortable with sometimes. I let the formal address go.

Sighing I said, "Please sit down Fraser." He righted his chair and sat at attention. I shook my head as I took the other chair. He was still facing me without looking at me.

I took the opportunity to look him over. He looked as neat as usual, but I could see he hadn't slept much last night. My being angry twice in one night must be hard on him. I hate talking as much he does about feelings, and usually I would avoid it like the plaque, but not this time. I bowed my head praying for patience and courage.

Not. This. Time. I vowed to both of us as I began…

Fraser's POV

I was surprised when Willie came an hour after Ray had left. Ray had called him and asked him to pick up Diefenbaker. As I wasn't allowed to leave, it seemed wise. Ray had told him I would pick up Dief when I was ready. Willie wasn't aware of why he had to take Dief, but he didn't ask either.

Twenty-six hours after Ray left, I had begun to wonder if he would come back, and what I would do if he didn't. I was supposed to return to work today, but my promise yet again left me feeling guilty. This time though I would not break my word to Ray.

Unsure of how to act when Ray finally did return, I fell back on formality. He was furious with me last night, and I was still his prisoner. Therefore, I stood at attention and addressed my friend as, "Detective Vecchio." Though he did not correct me, I had the impression that he wasn't happy about the formal address.

After we were seated, Ray didn't talk for a while. Afraid of upsetting him more, I remained silent, and when he did begin to speak, I stayed at attention.

"There was once this cop named…Ray." He was no longer watching me, when I looked sharply at him. "He was, well, not a great cop, but a decent one. Unfortunately, as good a cop as Ray was, he was borderline amoral, always looking for the moral shortcuts to get the job done. Thing of it was, he didn't even realize just how bad he was getting.

"Then in comes this Mountie that literally turned Ray's world upside down. This man was so different that Ray wondered if he was from another planet, rather than another country, especially the way he tasted stuff no human should taste. His politeness and manners seemed from former century. His sense of duty and pursuit of justice astounded Ray, right from the beginning." I hadn't realized.

"In the course of their first week, Ray had been blown up, shot at and nearly frozen. But most importantly, he had gained a friend. Not just any friend either. Oh, no. This friend became a brother. A brother Ray would risk everything and anything for." He smiled as he said, "despite the moral dilemmas you cause me." His smile disappeared.

"Last night, when you told me that it boggled your mind that your life means so much to me, I felt like you thought we shouldn't be friends or something. It hurt. A lot. So much so, that I had to leave before I said something I would regret. It wasn't until I talked to Ma that I began to see why all this might be overwhelming for you."

Then he looked at me so intently I couldn't look away. "Never doubt what your life means to me, Benny. It can boggle your mind, but never doubt it." He paused, "I release you." Then he got up and headed for my door.

Liberated from my word, I could not let him leave, not yet. Quickly blocking his retreat, I said, "Sit down Ray." Which, much to my surprise he did without argument. He sat back down and began studying my table.

Unsure how to proceed in light of these revelations from my friend I stayed at the door and struggled to find an appropriate response in the silence that followed. Ray's openness was unusual for him. He rarely, if ever, talked to me about such things. His honesty demanded I be just as candid.

Then it came to me, "You know, Ray, I've had mentors, superiors, students, subordinates, coworkers and such, but never has anyone put my needs before their own the way you have this past week. Even in 'punishing' me, you were putting my needs before your own."

Knowing that he wouldn't leave, I walked over to my window and looking out, continued, "And all I can say is…well, words will never truly express how I feel, Ray. I only ask that you try not to put me through that again. To willingly do and say nothing while my best friend is shot and knocked unconscious is not an experience I wish to ever repeat." Not too sure I could handle it a second time. I barely did this time.

He answered from a point just behind me and to my left. "I'll second that!" We fell into a companionable silence, broken when Ray said, "So, you, uh, for-forgive…us?"

Turning to fully face my friend, I asked, "Us?"

"Yeah, me for, well, everything, and you for, uh, whatever it is you think you did this time round that you feel so guilty about."

"Ah. Well…" Ray was looking at me with such an intense expression that it made me pause. His intensity demanded I not give the standard answer without thinking about the whole question. I suddenly got the feeling that if I denied forgiving myself; Ray would not accept my forgiveness of him. Forgiving him wasn't a problem and he knew this. But, he also knew I don't forgive myself as easily, and it was this he was asking, no demanding me to think about before answering.

Ray's POV

I saw the moment when Fraser realized how I would react if he didn't forgive himself as well as me. As I watched him struggle with his answer, I was reminded of a few days earlier in his office. So, when he finally said, "I'll make you a deal, Ray," I was caught off guard.

"Deal?" I squeaked.

"Yes, Ray. Deal. The deal is you forgive…us, and so will I." Emotional blackmail; who knew the Mountie could be so shrewd?

Damn. It was my turn to struggle for an answer. After a while I came to terms with it, "Deal." I put my hand out.

Benny looked baffled for a moment, then took my hand and said, "Deal." We shook on it. "Just one more thing, Ray." he had yet to let go of my hand.

"What's that, Benny?"

Fraser tilted his head slightly to his left and said, "I wasn't aware you understood Diefenbaker."

Oh dear....

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