Title: Talking of Home
Author: Medie
Rating: G
Spoilers: None that I can think of
Category: Friendship
Summary: A conversation between friends
Disclaimers: Fraser and Ray aren't mine. If they were, they'd still be on the
air and in eps worthy of an Emmy.
**************
Talking of Home
by Medie
**************
"Fraser?"
'Yes, Ray?"
"Do you ever get homesick?"
Looking over, the Mountie surveyed his friend. Ray sat upright in the hospital
bed, his blond hair spiky and rumpled from sleep and the bruises on his face
a duller colour than they'd been the day before. Despite his scruffy
appearance, the American's eyes gleamed with curiosity and Fraser wondered
where the question had come from even as he opened his mouth to answer simply.
"Yes."
"A lot?"
"Every day."
Ray digested his friend's answers then posed another question. "What do you
miss? Is it the land, the people? The cold? The politics?"
The last was said as a joke and Fraser chuckled in accordance.
"Well, though I must confess, Canadian politics can be rather . . . tamer
than its American counterpart, I don't miss that at all." Sitting back, he
frowned thoughtfully as he considered the question. "In truth, it's rather
hard to describe."
For a moment, Fraser looked down at Diefenbaker who met his gaze with an
almost understanding look.
"All I know, is that while I have been able to make this city a home . . .
it's not *home* . . . " He sighed deeply and looked into his friend's curious
face. "When I wake in the morning I am distinctly aware that I'm not in Canada.
It doesn't bother me. Not usually. But there are times when . . . things
remind me. Or I find myself wishing I was alone in the woods rather than
standing before the Consulate."
Pausing again, the Canadian considered the question that had been put before
him once more . . . taking a serious look at it. "I have a family here and
I'm grateful for that. But there are times when I find myself wishing that,
just for an instant, I was standing in the midst of a forest just after a
snowfall . . . There really is nothing like it Ray. I hope someday I get to
show you what I mean. Standing there, the only person around for miles,
listening to the animals moving, watching your breath cloud before you and
looking up at the snow-covered pines . . . " Clearing his throat, Fraser's
cheeks tinged slightly as he realized he'd been staring at a point on the
wall, caught up in a dream of his own making. "It's . . . ahem . . . well.
It's like magic."
Embarrassed at his revelation, the Mountie refocused on his friend's face.
"What makes you ask, Ray?"
It was Kowalski's turn to fidget and he looked down at the thin blanket
covering his legs, his hands fussing with the worn material. "I dunno . . .
You get a lot of time to think in this place . . . Can't sleep all the time.
Got to thinking about what it must've been like for you. First when y'got
here. I mean, comin' from the great white north," he flashed a grin at the
teasing words. "and getting dropped into this city . . . Must've been a big
culture shock. I tried to picture what it'd've been like for me, if I had to
go up to where you're from . . . straight from here."
"And?" Fraser prompted, genuinely curious at to what his friend's insights
were.
"Well, I figure I'd either hop a plane back home inside of two days or I'd
get myself killed." Ray grinned sheepishly. "Not exactly the best when it
comes to nature."
"I think," His friend offered with a smile. "You'd surprise yourself. You
adapt quickly Ray, you've proved that . . . " They both knew Fraser was
referring to the undercover work, to becoming Ray Vecchio rather than Ray
Kowalski. He'd survived and thrived in it. Not everyone would.
Kowalski shrugged, picking at the blanket again. "Different . . . "
"Circumstances yes, but the principal is the same." Fraser insisted, quite
proud of how the other man had handled the situation.
"But you helped." Ray countered, not seeing the same thing Fraser was. Not
seeing his own talent - his own capability.
"Yes I did . . . but in the end - it lay with you. Success or fail, the
responsibility for it lay with you." This time, Fraser didn't try to hide
his pride as he spoke. It wasn't something he was comfortable doing, not
having it when he grew up, but he was as intent on speaking the truth as he
would have been catching a suspect. When Benton Fraser decided he would do
something, he was damn well going to do it.
"You're a survivor Ray and you're a good one." He paused before continuing.
"Whether it's being dropped into someone else's life or being dropped into
the Northwest Territories . . . you survive . . . and you thrive. You should
be proud."
They were silent then . . . for a long time.
Then finally, Ray piped up with a simple statement. "Maybe, some day, we can
take a trip up north . . . maybe spend some time in the woods . . . "
Smiling, Fraser nodded. "Maybe . . . "
They would, some day. And, when they did, Fraser had no doubts.
Ray would love it just as much as Fraser now loved Chicago.
Second home . . .
Finis
Author: Medie
Rating: G
Spoilers: None that I can think of
Category: Friendship
Summary: A conversation between friends
Disclaimers: Fraser and Ray aren't mine. If they were, they'd still be on the
air and in eps worthy of an Emmy.
**************
Talking of Home
by Medie
**************
"Fraser?"
'Yes, Ray?"
"Do you ever get homesick?"
Looking over, the Mountie surveyed his friend. Ray sat upright in the hospital
bed, his blond hair spiky and rumpled from sleep and the bruises on his face
a duller colour than they'd been the day before. Despite his scruffy
appearance, the American's eyes gleamed with curiosity and Fraser wondered
where the question had come from even as he opened his mouth to answer simply.
"Yes."
"A lot?"
"Every day."
Ray digested his friend's answers then posed another question. "What do you
miss? Is it the land, the people? The cold? The politics?"
The last was said as a joke and Fraser chuckled in accordance.
"Well, though I must confess, Canadian politics can be rather . . . tamer
than its American counterpart, I don't miss that at all." Sitting back, he
frowned thoughtfully as he considered the question. "In truth, it's rather
hard to describe."
For a moment, Fraser looked down at Diefenbaker who met his gaze with an
almost understanding look.
"All I know, is that while I have been able to make this city a home . . .
it's not *home* . . . " He sighed deeply and looked into his friend's curious
face. "When I wake in the morning I am distinctly aware that I'm not in Canada.
It doesn't bother me. Not usually. But there are times when . . . things
remind me. Or I find myself wishing I was alone in the woods rather than
standing before the Consulate."
Pausing again, the Canadian considered the question that had been put before
him once more . . . taking a serious look at it. "I have a family here and
I'm grateful for that. But there are times when I find myself wishing that,
just for an instant, I was standing in the midst of a forest just after a
snowfall . . . There really is nothing like it Ray. I hope someday I get to
show you what I mean. Standing there, the only person around for miles,
listening to the animals moving, watching your breath cloud before you and
looking up at the snow-covered pines . . . " Clearing his throat, Fraser's
cheeks tinged slightly as he realized he'd been staring at a point on the
wall, caught up in a dream of his own making. "It's . . . ahem . . . well.
It's like magic."
Embarrassed at his revelation, the Mountie refocused on his friend's face.
"What makes you ask, Ray?"
It was Kowalski's turn to fidget and he looked down at the thin blanket
covering his legs, his hands fussing with the worn material. "I dunno . . .
You get a lot of time to think in this place . . . Can't sleep all the time.
Got to thinking about what it must've been like for you. First when y'got
here. I mean, comin' from the great white north," he flashed a grin at the
teasing words. "and getting dropped into this city . . . Must've been a big
culture shock. I tried to picture what it'd've been like for me, if I had to
go up to where you're from . . . straight from here."
"And?" Fraser prompted, genuinely curious at to what his friend's insights
were.
"Well, I figure I'd either hop a plane back home inside of two days or I'd
get myself killed." Ray grinned sheepishly. "Not exactly the best when it
comes to nature."
"I think," His friend offered with a smile. "You'd surprise yourself. You
adapt quickly Ray, you've proved that . . . " They both knew Fraser was
referring to the undercover work, to becoming Ray Vecchio rather than Ray
Kowalski. He'd survived and thrived in it. Not everyone would.
Kowalski shrugged, picking at the blanket again. "Different . . . "
"Circumstances yes, but the principal is the same." Fraser insisted, quite
proud of how the other man had handled the situation.
"But you helped." Ray countered, not seeing the same thing Fraser was. Not
seeing his own talent - his own capability.
"Yes I did . . . but in the end - it lay with you. Success or fail, the
responsibility for it lay with you." This time, Fraser didn't try to hide
his pride as he spoke. It wasn't something he was comfortable doing, not
having it when he grew up, but he was as intent on speaking the truth as he
would have been catching a suspect. When Benton Fraser decided he would do
something, he was damn well going to do it.
"You're a survivor Ray and you're a good one." He paused before continuing.
"Whether it's being dropped into someone else's life or being dropped into
the Northwest Territories . . . you survive . . . and you thrive. You should
be proud."
They were silent then . . . for a long time.
Then finally, Ray piped up with a simple statement. "Maybe, some day, we can
take a trip up north . . . maybe spend some time in the woods . . . "
Smiling, Fraser nodded. "Maybe . . . "
They would, some day. And, when they did, Fraser had no doubts.
Ray would love it just as much as Fraser now loved Chicago.
Second home . . .
Finis
