Two crisp white envelopes smacked Fraser in the left temple, startling him. His head snapped up from the community newsletter he was reading and glared at his partner to his left. Leaning against the kitchen counter, Ray already had his nose buried in the middle of a muscle car magazine he had received in the mail. Fraser bent over, picking up the mail he had apparently failed to 'catch' as Ray tossed it in his direction. He smacked Ray's thigh with the outside of his hand as he stood up and grinned triumphantly when Ray reacted.
"Hey… what was that for?" Ray asked before redirecting his attention back into the magazine.
A single finger hooked the center of the magazine and pulled it away from the blond detective's face. "That…" Fraser turned, now standing directly in front of his partner. "Was a love tap for throwing the mail at me." He gave Ray a quick wink before leaning forward, catching Ray's parted lips in a quick kiss. Releasing his lips, Fraser backed his face mere inches away from Ray's, quietly adding, "Please don't do it again." He leaned around Ray and retrieved the remainder of the mail off the kitchen counter. "You want any of these before I sort through them?" Fraser asked before leaving the kitchen.
"Nah, just bills and that dumb community letter we get every month." Ray followed his partner out of the kitchen and dropped himself onto the couch, the magazine falling carelessly into his lap. His feet found the coffee table, his hand found the remote and the sports channel filled the quiet space of the apartment.
"There is nothing dumb about the community newsletter. It is quite informative if you would take a moment to actually read it." Fraser placed the unopened mail on the desk. "Were you aware that thirty three of the fifty apartments still have the original flooring?"
"And the other seventeen have new flooring because some dumb ass tried flushing his wife's underwear down the toilet because she was cheating on him. Caused massive flooding on the first two floors, if you recall coming home to that mess last summer." Ray shuddered as he flipped the channel. "Hey… about the mail. Why do you keep getting something from a bank up in the Northwest Areas every month with your dad's name on it?"
"For the umpteenth time, it's Territories, Ray." Fraser returned to the desk and picked up the piece of mail Ray was referring to, running his finger thoughtfully over his father's name.
"I do that just to yank your chain, you know." Ray shifted on the couch to get a better view of his partner. "I mean it's none of my business, if you don't want me to know." Ray studied the side of Fraser's face, unable to read his expression. "You don't even open them, just shove them in a box."
"No, it's not that…" Fraser's voice trailed off as his thoughts took him back to the deserted stretch of frozen highway, standing face to face with his father's murderer.
"Ben…" Ray's gentle voice called him back into their living room. "It's okay, you don't have to explain."
Fraser dropped the envelope to the desktop like it was on fire. "It's complicated."
"For two years, you've been tossing envelopes into a shoebox and then shoving it back under the desk. I imagine it's never going to get uncomplicated until you finally open one of them."
"I know what's in them," Fraser snapped back. He saw the shock register in Ray's eyes and softened his tone. "I'm sorry, I just don't…" A weary hand swiped over his face. "I didn't mean to snap at you." He pulled the rolling chair away from the desk and pulled the old shoebox out from its hiding place. Opening the top, Fraser dug through the contents until he found the small bank booklet. He removed Ray's feet from the coffee table and sat in front of him. With a shaky hand, he handed Ray the bank book.
"What's this?" Ray asked accepting the worn book and reading the bank information off the front. "Why does a bank book have you all out of sorts?" Ray flipped it open, staring wide-eyed at the figures in black. "Holy shit… that's a lot of money."
"When my father was killed, Gerrard gave that to me and told me that my dad had taken the money as a bribe to keep quiet about all the trouble the new dam was causing with the caribou dying and the area being flooded." Fraser knuckle swiped his brow and tugged on his left ear. "He was dead, I couldn't exactly ask him if it was true or not. I've never been able to bring myself to do anything with it." Ray handed the booklet back to his partner nodding his head in understanding. "I was told the transactions weren't made in person and there were never any withdrawals from the account by my father or anyone else so, I may never know the truth."
"What does your gut tell you?" Ray asked sitting forward and taking his partner's hands into his own.
Fraser let out a brittle laugh. "I have a shoebox full of unopened bank statements, what does that tell you?"
"Tells me that you refuse to believe this Gerrard. Tells me that your dad was a stand-up Mountie and someone tried to make you believe he was corrupt, just like the rest of them. They couldn't bring him down while he was alive, so they bring him down in death to make you think less of him. Don't let them do that to you. You know what you believe about your dad." Ray squeezed his partner's hands, reassuring him. "Come on… let's go to bed."
Fraser gave Ray a warm smile. "Thank you." He tugged Ray's hands, pulling him off the couch and towards their bedroom.
Fraser found himself sitting on the couch with the lights turned down low at two am. The box containing all the unopened bank statements resting unopened in his lap.
"Gerrard offered me a lot of money to keep my mouth shut, Benton." Bob Fraser's solid voice broke through the quiet of the apartment, startling his son. "It was a travesty what was happening because of that new dam. Wildlife was dying by the hundreds, homes were being flooded and here was Gerrard and his friends offering me a chunk of money to turn a blind eye."
"I don't know what to do with it, Dad. I can't spend it, knowing that it was bribe money." Fraser stared at his father's ghost unsure if he was ready to finally learn the truth after all these years.
"Twenty thousand dollars was a lot of money. They promised me more, but I guess you can see when that stopped, huh?" Bob picked a spot on the floor and stared at it for a long moment before continuing. "I was almost to the end of my career, Benton, and here comes Gerrard flashing all these dollar signs at me saying I don't have to do anything, just turn a blind eye."
"You took the money?" Fraser sat still on the couch fighting his emotions. His whole life he only knew his father to be three things… honest, loyal and trustworthy.
Bob locked eyes with his son, a single tear slipped down his cheek. "I'm human, Ben. I knew I wasn't getting any younger. I knew life was rough in the territories and that money provided a way for me to have it a little easier towards the end. I considered it for about fifteen minutes while having coffee with Gerrard one afternoon."
"Everything I ever believed about you was a lie?" Fraser tossed the box onto the coffee table and stood forcefully. "How could you do that? How could you turn your back on the people that trusted you? How could you turn your back on me?"
"Benton…" Bob stepped quickly towards his son. "I said I considered it for fifteen minutes. I didn't say I took it. I would never forgive myself if you thought I was a common criminal. I missed out on a very large part of your life, all my own fault, I admit. But everywhere I went, I always heard how much you looked up to me. You told everyone how much you wanted to be like your father, how much you wanted to follow in my foot steps and become a Mountie. Well, you did all of those things, Ben. And I've probably never told you how proud I am of the man you've become." Bob shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "When I was considering taking the money, I thought about what you would think of your old man if you found out. How disappointed you would have been. I thought about everything that I knew you stood for and those were the same things I stood for as well and without knowing it, you helped me see what I needed to do."
"But I have a booklet that has twenty thousand dollars in it."
"Yes, you do. Gerrard didn't give up very easily did he? His loss really, because he lost his money, his freedom…"
"Dad…" Fraser cut his father off, "you lost your life."
"But I didn't lose my soul, dear boy. No… that still lives on in you. You reminded me who I was and what I stood for. If you don't want the money, if you don't feel comfortable spending it yourself, send it back to the people that Gerrard took so much away from to begin with. I never accepted the money, Ben. I did the right thing by not turning the blind eye. I wanted to make sure my son was proud of his father, just as I've always been proud of you."
Fraser thought about what his father had said about giving the money back to the people. "You would be okay with that?"
"It was never my money to begin with, Ben. Gerrard just set up an account in my name and put some money in it. With my death, it all became yours. You're free to with it as you wish."
"What if I used it to look into adoption?" Fraser fidgeted with his hands. "I'm with Ray now, but I would like for you to have grandkids… even though you're not 'technically' alive."
"I think that would be a very positive use of that money. Thank you, Benton, for believing in your old man."
"I never stopped believing in you, Dad. Why do you think I never opened any of those envelopes?"
With a loving smile, Bob Fraser disappeared into the early morning darkness.
Fraser pulled the covers back and slipped quietly back into his warm bed. He reached out, wrapping a solid arm across his lover's back. In the dark, he found Ray's lips and kissed them softly, stirring his partner into a semi-conscious state.
"You okay?" Ray asked his eyes still closed, his body seeking Fraser's warmth as he slid further into his embrace.
"Yes, I am now." Fraser kissed the top of Ray's flattened spikes before resting his head on his own pillow. "We'll talk in the morning and I'll open up that last envelope I got in the mail. And we'll go from there."
