Chapter 1: Ch-ch-changes

'Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray.'

Fraser was shaking his partner, until finally a confused Ray opened his eyes. His face was very pale with an unhealthy looking, blue-ish hue. His lips were also almost colourless. Add to this Ray's incessant trembling, even when he was asleep, and Fraser knew this did not bode well.

'Yeah, I'm up, Fraser. What?'

Fraser knew he had to approach the subject tactfully or Ray would be stubborn and that would mean that he would almost certainly die. He could of course overpower Ray, that would not be difficult with Ray in this weakened state, but force had never been Fraser's forte. Gentle persuasion suited him much better. Hesitantly, he glanced at the left side of the tent. The light outside was slowly waning.

'You seem to be cold, Ray.'

Shaking and haggard looking, Ray still managed a sarcastically raised brow.

'You think.'

'Yes, and I'm feeling a bit chilly myself too...'

'I'm freezing my ass off and you're a bit chilly; that's great.'

'...and I thought we could zip our sleeping bags together...'

This time Ray did not interrupt with a mocking remark, but Fraser paused all the same. Ray was staring at him and Fraser swallowed with some difficulty before continuing.

'...for body heat.'

Ray was still staring at him and he made Fraser nervous and Fraser was seldom, if ever, nervous, least of all out here in the Northwest Territories on an adventure with his best friend. If Ray refused... Well, he didn't really know what he would do then. He had no plan for how to deal with a dying partner who wouldn't accept a slightly unusual sleeping arrangement, because it was slightly unusual. Fraser spoke again and his tone was tentative and questioning.

'Ray?'

'Yeah, I'm with you. But I can't...'

Fraser felt himself starting to panic and tried desperately to rein his growing fear in.

'But Ray you're exhibiting signs of hypothermia. If you died I would never...'

Ray shook his head at him and Fraser was exasperated at the indulgent expression on the face of his partner. Ray's face said, as clearly as if he had spoken, dude, you don't get it. But Ray was the one who didn't understand.

'No, you freak. My hands,' Ray offered and managed to lift them above the hem of his sleeping bag. Fraser just looked at them in confusion. What about his hands? They looked fine. Pale as usual, but strong and able. Though, now he looked more closely, he could see they didn't just look pale, they looked a bit blue too and awkward. Stiff.

'Your hands are stiff,' Fraser said as if in contemplation.

'Yes, they are cold, like the rest of me. I can't unzip my sleeping bag,' Ray explained.

Now it was Fraser's turn to stare at Ray. He hadn't expected it to be this easy to convince Ray to share a sleeping bag, because Ray was a tad weird about these sorts of things. Case in point, when they had been doing a word association game and Fraser has said 'closet'. Or when Ray accidentally had said that he loved him, because Fraser had proven Inspector Thatcher's suspicion wrong. Both times Ray had become a bit upset at the implications; in the first case he had balked at Fraser's question of 'closet,' and in the second case he had backtracked immediately, insisting he meant symbolically or something.

So, Fraser was always extra careful with Ray, when it came to emotional and physical intimacy, because he did not want Ray to freak out, which Ray would surely do now, which he had expected. But his suggestion only encountered compliance. Perhaps the new situation was producing a change in Ray. After all, there were only the two of them and the chances of emotional and physical contact was far and few between. There were layers and layers of clothing even between most of their skin and the cold air. Fraser knew he was in his element, but Ray was different. Despite his objections to the contrary, Ray liked people. He liked being around them and talking to them. Now there was no one around for miles, so they could only talk to each other and Ray was forced to listen to his stories about the Inuit and obscure snowstorms and freaky arrests. Fraser had anticipated an increased grumpiness in Ray, because he knew his stories did not charm Ray. However, he had only noticed a mild dismay stirring in Ray whenever his stories featured someone licking something.

The most surprising development had been Ray's gradual advancement as far as touching was concerned. These days Ray seemed to crave physical contact. Fraser thought the change was progress. It made him feel closer to Ray, as if they were becoming even better partners, as if they were becoming better attuned to each other. It was just...better. With Fraser's mother gone and his father also gone for all intents and purposes, his childhood had not been one of kisses and hugs. His grandmother was affectionate, but not a cuddly woman at all, so Fraser was not a natural at the physical side of social interaction. He had learned to touch other people to reassure them or confirm something, because he saw how much could be contained in a simple handshake or pat, but it still did not come naturally to him. And with Ray he had realised early on that any kind of closeness would be met with apprehension, thus the change in Ray had at first been bewildering to him. The new closeness was strange to him, simply because he was unused to it. For most of his life it had been him and nature and then him and Diefenbaker, who, though women always found him cuddly, did not require that kind of contact either. Fraser liked being alone, he did not need the warmth and the touching, but Ray clearly did.

Nowadays, whenever they left the tent Ray was always sliding very closely past him and grinning at him when he managed to get outside first. Or, when they prepared for a meal and Ray handed him his utensils Ray would always lightly touch his hand. At first Fraser had merely thought Ray could handle the cutlery better without his gloves on, but after a while he had taken his gloves off too, so their bare hands met. Ray seemed to like it and Fraser was fascinated to find himself labelling the physical contact 'nice.' Also, Ray enjoyed hoisting the hood of Fraser's parka over Fraser's head. He would stand nice and close and put both his hands over Fraser's shoulders and pull the hood up. All the time Fraser would feel his breath on his face and Ray would smile at him. Ray's behaviour was a definite improvement in Fraser's book. Plus, it was only natural if you thought about it. In Chicago, though Ray didn't have much in the way of a personal life, a good-looking man like him must have enjoyed dates and the intimacy that followed afterwards. So now, surrounded by snow and ice and biting winds he had turned to the only one able to provide him with any contact: Fraser.