Mystery behind Dark eyes:
Dark mornings in the Consulate were always the worst. Fraser hated them as much as the next man, but they made everything seem dreary, like it was night time and they should all be at home, asleep. It was 9 o'clock and Fraser was in the Consulate, finishing some paperwork. Turnbull approached the door nervously giving Fraser an apprehensive look. Slowly, Fraser raised his head to him and grinned tiredly.
"Erm, sir, there's someone here to see you…" Fraser looked at him expectantly. After just another look from Turnbull he sighed and whispered.
"Yes, but who is it?"
"Ah, erm…" Turnbull raced out of the room and came back a moment later with a successful look. "A Mr. Ryan Everton. I'm afraid I don't know what he actually wants, but it seems important." Fraser sat up in his desk placed his pen down and said.
"Ok, bring him in, if it's important, I guess this will have to wait." Turnbull disappeared out of the room, but came back a moment later with a tall, dark haired man.
"Sir," said Turnbull as he gave the man a suspicious look and left without saying another word. Fraser got up out of his soft chair with regret and shook the man's hand.
"I am Ryan Everton and I am wondering if you can do something for me?" Fraser nodded wearily and asked.
"What is this 'something' that you would like me to do?"
"Ah, yes, well, there is this person that is trying to kill me, and I was just wondering if you could talk to him?" Fraser suddenly looked alarmed as he slowly sat down again.
"So what you're telling me is that there's a man trying to kill you and you want us to stop him?" After a strange look from the man, he nodded.
"Did you not try the police?" Fraser asked.
"I did, but they said come here seeing as this is the kind of thing you do." Fraser put his head in his hands and removed his hat. His hair, for once, stuck up and he looked like a startled cat. Ryan look surprised as he placed his hands on the desk and looked in Fraser's eyes. "Please can you? I think I'm in real danger." Fraser sighed and nodded.
"Right, tell me where you live and we'll send someone around to stay with you during the night. Meanwhile you need to tell us everything you know about this man."
Fraser strode into the Police Station, eyes blazing looking for Ray. Going past Francesca's desk was a mistake, as she caught his sleeve, which sent him reeling backwards. He turned his head, wishing that he could be rude and tell her to stop bugging him, but he couldn't, he never could, he wasn't a true Mountie. He grinned a fake grin and greeted Francesca.
"Hello, do you know where Ray is; I need to talk to him urgently?" Francesca's face sunk as she pointed over at Lieutenant Welsh's office. Fraser turned moodily and paced over to the door. Being as polite as he was, he knocked on the door and waited for an answer. He slowly pushed the door open to see Ray pacing up and down, while Welsh sat on his desk surveying the scene. Ray quickly turned to the door as Fraser walked in and grinned.
"Fraser…" Ray began, but was cut off by the Lieutenant.
"Excuse me Fraser; we're having a private conversation. If you wanna talk to Ray, do it when we've finished, ok?" Fraser nodded politely and closed the door behind him, hating every word that he said; maybe this case was going to be tougher than he thought.
When Ray came out of the office half an hour later Fraser was leaning against his desk, his hand rifling through his already messed up hair. Ray grinned and casually walked over to him, not realising that he was angry.
"Heya Fraser, buddy, what's up?" Fraser gave him a look of contempt which made Ray frown. "You ok Fraser, um, you seem…"
"On edge maybe, paranoid perhaps? Well you'd be right," Fraser said looking over his shoulder behind him. Ray looked worried.
"What's wrong Frase?" He asked looking past Fraser to where he was looking, but saw nothing. Fraser's head quickly snapped back and he gave Ray a nervous look, one that told him that something was definitely up.
"Well," said Fraser looking at the floor, he knew he could talk to Ray, but somehow he couldn't end up like a mess. "There was this man and he came into the Consulate, and he said to me…" Ray cut him off.
"There's a bloke following me who, um, is trying to kill me? Please stop him at once? Something along those lines perhaps?" Fraser nodded slowly, but still kept talking.
"But the weird thing was, I got this really weird feeling, as if someone is following me. I'm not sure what it is, I'm starting to get feelings I haven't had in a long time. Anger, aggression, hate… do you think this means something?" Ray shrugged and said.
"Look, all I can do at the moment is tell you to get a good night's sleep, although it is 10 o'clock and, um, you're not allowed to take a hol, so…"
"Hol?" asked Fraser.
"Sorry, I forgot, erm, holiday." Ray said correcting himself and laughing. "Right, go back to the Consulate and get everything sorted out, I'll meet you tonight there and we can… talk."
The door to Ray's flat clicked open as he lazily slouched in. After a hard days work, he usually watched the telly, but this time, he had a lot of paperwork to do. He chucked his keys at the table, smashing as they hit the cold work surface, making Ray jump. He smiled faintly at his own stupidity and sat down on his chair. Slowly he stretched outwards, feeling every bone in his body click. He slowly brushed his hands through his hair and sighed, he hated paperwork.
"The sooner I get it done, the sooner I, um, get it done." As soon as Ray had picked up his pen, he felt a coldness surge through his body. Slowly, he got up and turned around. His eyes opened wide and he chocked out the remaining words in his brain.
"W…what the hell?"
Fraser's office was still cold and dark. He walked in without much recognition from Turnbull or Inspector Thatcher. Fraser didn't care much anymore, he needed to talk to Ray and get this whole business out in the open. It was now 9 pm and Ray said he would be there. Fraser assumed that he had got stuck in traffic, so he waited for another hour, still no sign of Ray. Starting to get worried, Fraser decided to phone him, just to check that he was ok. He could feel the phone vibrating in his ear, but no answer. He tried again, but the same happened. Fraser was now starting to panic, which wasn't usual for him. He quickly shoved his hat on his head and went to go and find Diefenbaker. Realising that he'd find him in the kitchen munching on doughnuts, he took a couple of them with him just to make sure he's follow him. With strange looks from Turnbull and Thatcher, he ran at full pelt out of the Consulate and into the street, trying to dodge people and apologising thoroughly. It was only 5 blocks to Ray's apartment, he knew he could make it and make the 4 flights of stairs before he run out of breath. Still zooming past shops and people, he turned a corner and began to take a shortcut through avenues. Finally he made it to Ray's flat, but being the polite Mountie he thought he was, he rang the flat and waited for an answer. No answer. Fraser started to get worried. He rang again and hoped this time for an answer. Again none. Now Fraser was getting paranoid again. The feeling was getting worse and he now felt sick. He leant up against the grimy wall and winced at his pain. He coughed, never feeling so ill before. Ray had been like this many times, but he never realised he would be the one to break down in a bad situation. He stood up feeling light headed again and knocked on the door. Still no answer, so Fraser had to do the only thing he could think of. As he staggered backwards and plummeted at the door, he kept thinking how he never should have left Ray alone.
Ray face was a mixture of disbelief and shock. He stuttered and looked blindly at the figure in front of him. Well, it wasn't so much in front of him as in the mirror. It was him, only fifteen. Ray couldn't believe his eyes, for a moment he thought he was dreaming. He pinched himself on the arm, but it was no good. Still he stared, making sure he was seeing it right, denying it to himself over and over again- but not quite believing it. The younger Ray held his arms out, palms outstretched begging for Ray to help him. He was weather beaten, scratched, faded. He looked like he'd been in a fight with a bear and lost. Part of Ray's spirit and mind wanted him to go and help, the rest made him come back to the shocking truth. That the image wasn't there and he was Stanley Kowalski, he could do anything. And that was when he went. Slowly he stepped forwards staring intently and the shape still not moving. Stan's eyes glowed with a light that seemed un human, and yet wishful. The boy's hands were still outstretched, but an evil smile had spread across his lips. Stan's pace stopped and he looked at the ghostly figure of himself with a look of evil on his face. He quickly picked up his gun a fired five bullets at the mirror, making it shattered loudly. As the sound ricochet off of the walls, Stan knew that this was just the beginning. He grabbed a rug, his turtle and his gun and sat staring at the door, the rug over his head and rapped around him, his turtle by his side, his gun loaded and ready to fire at whoever came in.
Fraser jumped up and brushed himself down. Somehow he felt a lot better. Running up the stairs, he noticed how few people there were about, but that didn't concern him, all that troubled him at the moment was Ray. Three flights up and he started to cough again, but he had to keep going for Ray. Finally he reached Ray's apartment and knocked on the door.
"Ray?" He said. No answer. He was starting to get even more worried now. "Ray are you even there?" he asked again. Still no answer. Fraser stood back, wondering what he could do. Thinking of the only thing, he kicked out with his foot and sent the door crashing into the table on the other side. Seeing the gun being pointed at him from Ray on the other side of the room came as a shock to him. "Ray, it's me." Ray's eyes were filled with tears and Fraser was worried for him.
"But, really, are you, you might be, uh, another allusion."
"No, Ray, it's me." Fraser said. Ray cocked his head to one side and said.
"How do I know, how can I trust you?" Fraser didn't answer, because as soon as he opened his mouth, he fell to the floor. Ray's face portrayed many emotions at that point, but mostly surprise and anger. He quickly got up only to find he was sliding down the wall. He tried to move and help Fraser but it was impossible.