"Look, Fraser, I don't know how you do things up there in the Great North Wilderness, but here in Chicago, when a guy points a gun at you, you duck.  Okay?  You do not say, 'please hand over that illegal weapon, young man, before I dazzle you with stories of Eskimos and references to the queen'." Ray jerked open the car door and shot a glare at the source of his frustration.  "Next time you're gonna get capped, and I don't wanna have to do the paper work."

"They're Inuit, Ray, not Eskimos.  That's actually sort of a derogatory term.  It means 'eaters of raw flesh' and I believe that it originated with--"

Ray held up one hand to interrupt Fraser, who stopped talking and looked at him calmly over the roof of the car.  Considering what all he'd learned from working with Fraser, Ray said, "Are you gonna go all Discovery Channel and give me a piece of history here?  Because I'm sure it's all fascinating as hell, but the point is, you're going to get yourself killed.  Don't you get that?"

"Ray, I do know what I'm doing, you know.  That man didn't want to kill me.  He was just frightened and angry."  Fraser spoke in that aggressively reasonable tone of voice that he was prone to using after he'd scared a couple of years off Ray's life, and it astounded Ray how often he'd heard it in just one short week.  At the rate they were going, Ray would need every bit of the survival advantage of having an unnaturally long life.  "You secured his weapon and he's on his way to jail.  I don't see why you're upset."

"I'm not upset," said Ray, quickly.  "And what kind of law enforcement officer doesn't carry a gun?"

"Well, I think you are," Fraser replied.  "And I told you that I don't have a license."

"No, I'm not.  Who do you think you are, Sheriff Andy Taylor?  If so, I will not be your Barney Fife."

"What are you talking about, Ray?"

"Nothing.   Just get in the car."  Ray got behind the wheel and waited until the wolf was inside before starting the engine.  As soon as Fraser shut the door, Ray pulled out into the street.

"You know, you've been on-duty for nearly six hours without a break.  Maybe it would improve your mood if you stopped for dinner."

"I'm not hungry, and there's nothing wrong with my mood.  I'm completely cool."

"You're never hungry."

"Sure, I am."

"You never eat anything."

"Yes, I do."

"When?  I've never seen you."

Ray tightened his grip on the steering wheel and tried to sound casual, and not as scared and irritated as he felt.  "I eat before I go to work, and after I take you home.  Fraser, what is your problem?  You think I'm one of those ana-ano- real skinny teenage girls or something?  Do I look like a supermodel to you?"

"Well, no, but you do have the cheekbones for it.  All I'm saying is that I'm concerned about you.  Eating disorders are not limited to teenage girls."

Ray ignored the cheekbones comment, because the warmth it sent curling through his belly was too distracting from the conversation.  But he knew he'd be thinking about it later, after Fraser was gone.  "Look, I'm a grown man, I am not disordered, and I can take care of myself."

"Well, isn't that what I said about myself a moment ago?"  Fraser's voice went up a skeptical notch and Ray had to hold onto his resolve to stick to the subject.

"Whether I have a sandwich or not is *not* the same as a guy pointing a gun at your head.  That's a whole other not-getting-killed thing, and that's what you should be concentrating on."

"Speaking of concentrating, Ray...You just missed our turn."

Ray made a noise like the sound Diefenbaker made when someone tried to deny him a doughnut, and hooked a U-turn in the middle of the street.  He ignored Fraser's indignant squawk and made another turn onto the street he'd missed.  He stayed quiet until he pulled up in front of Fraser's building.

"Ray, I'm sorry if I upset you--"

"I'm not upset," Ray quickly assured him again with an indignant tone of his own.

"--or made you angry," Fraser continued as if he hadn't been interrupted.  "With all new partnerships, there's an adjustment period where both parties have to get to know each other and each other's idiosyncrasies."

"Did you just call me an idiot?"

"No, no, idiosyncrasies."  He enunciated the last three syllables very clearly.  "It means personality quirks."

"Oh, I knew that.  Well, I got them, all right."  Ray nodded and decided to give Fraser something back.  "Maybe you had a point, and I'll feel better after I have some dinner."

It wasn't exactly an apology, but Ray could tell Fraser accepted it anyway, because as he said a polite goodnight, he smiled an I-knew-you'd-agree-with-me-eventually smile that on a lesser man would be smug and insufferable.  On Fraser, it was a knee-melter, and Ray responded accordingly by getting all flustered as he muttered a quick goodnight.  Calling into the station to say he was taking his dinner break, but would be available by cell phone, Ray drove over to the butcher shop.

As he got out of his car, he caught a flash of red in the corner of his vision, but when he turned there was no one around.  The street was quiet except for a cab turning onto a cross street.  He surveyed the area once more without anything grabbing his attention, so he wrote it off as general paranoia caused by the weird dreams he'd been having and went on his way.

Walking down the alley just as cautiously as he had the very first time, he wondered if he would always be jumpy about this place and these vampire things he had to do sometimes.  Or would he someday settle into this new power he seemed to have?  Most of the time he tried not think about it--never *forgetting* that he could jump twelve feet straight up in the air or break a man's neck with a flick of the wrist if he wanted to, but never actually *doing* it either.  Good thing, because it would be hard to explain to Fraser.  Ray was supposed to be the normal one and leave the superheroics to Fraser.

The panel in the door slid open as soon as Ray knocked, and the now-familiar deep voice barked, "State your business."

"Hey there, Roland, the bar open tonight?"  Ray asked.

"Sure. Come on in, brother," said Roland, as he always did, which made Ray wonder if he had trouble remembering all names or just his.

Stepping inside the dark hallway, Ray handed over his weapons without waiting to be frisked and went down the stairs without an escort.  He wasn't exactly a regular, but by now he was a known quantity.

The bar wasn't very busy tonight, the few patrons either clustered in the booths along the walls or sitting at the bar, leaving the tables empty.  Ray took a stool at the end of the bar where he had a good view of the door and nodded a greeting at the bartender, who walked over and asked if he wanted a beer with a flirtatious smile.

"No, I'm on duty tonight, Scottie.  Just came in for a little break, maybe have a snack."  Ray looked over at the big old-fashioned Wurlitzer jukebox and thought about dropping in a few quarters, but decided to wait until the current set finished playing.  Right now it was in the middle of a Spanish-sounding song he didn't recognize with lots of classical guitar, but it was nice.  It reminded him of some of the music he and Stella used to dance to.

"Got some fresh A positive, just came in today.  Want a taste?"  Scottie licked her lips and gave the simple question lascivious overtones, even though Ray knew she didn't mean it, being devotedly married to Roland.

"It *was* donated voluntarily, wasn't it?" Ray always had to double check.

"Of course, you know I run a clean place."  She leaned forward and said, "Did you know that if I wanted to, I could have this room full of donors?  Voluntary-get-off-on-having-their-blood-sucked donors.  They're out there, Ray.  Some of you guys pay them, but most of the time you could get it for free."  She moved down the bar a bit and came back with a shot glass.  "Here.  Give this a try."

Ray lifted the glass and took a slow sip.  It was perfect body temperature and had the special indefinable thing that screamed "human" to his excited taste buds.  He finished it off and nodded.  "Oh yeah, that's...that's good.  I'll take a tall one."

"I thought so."  Scottie slid a full pilsner glass in front of him and then wiped at the bar with a damp rag, and gave Ray that "Pour your heart out. I'm listening" look that he usually found so irritating in bartenders of either gender.  "What's up with you?"

Ray almost laughed because that was the problem, wasn't it?  Things being up at the most inconvenient times.  But he couldn't tell her that so he shrugged and said, "Work.  My new partner's got some kinda psycho death wish and it's driving me nuts."

She stopped any pretense of cleaning the bar, propped her chin in her hand, and looked at him with interest. "Really, is that so?"

"Nah, not really.  He just...he's just got the crazy idea that people are good and kind deep down and all he's got to do is *talk* to 'em instead of giving 'em the kick to the head that they deserve."  Ray shook his head.  "The really crazy thing is that most of the time it works.  He gets people to do stuff they wouldn't normally do."

"Is that what's bothering you?  Afraid he'll get you to do something you don't want to do?"

"No, I don't...I don't think so.  Maybe it's just the opposite."

"He doesn't know about the--" She held her forefingers up to her mouth in pretend fangs.  "Does he?"

"Are you nuts?  He's pure and good and...and...Canadian, for Pete's sake!  No way am I gonna tell him." He cracked his neck and shrugged some of the tension out of his shoulders.  "I got enough to deal with, what with his dad's ghost popping in all the time when I least expect it.  Asking nosy questions, criticizing my police work."

"Who's your partner-- Hamlet?"  Scottie asked with the easy amusement of someone who long ago ceased to be shocked by anything.

"Nah, I told you he's Canadian."  Ray took another long sip from his glass and sighed.  The blood really was good, much better than the stuff he usually drank.  His thoughts started drifting into territory he usually tried to avoid--the attraction to human blood, straight from a warm live body.  The idea of donors was new to him although, with as many different kinds of fetishes and kinks as there were in the world, he couldn't be too surprised.  If you looked hard enough, you'd find someone somewhere who got off on anything you could think of, no matter how seemingly strange it was.

Ray wondered how easy it would be to find a donor--not that he'd ever do something like that.  He was just curious, that's all.  Was it always a sexual thing, with actual sex involved?  Or did the vamp just take a little nip and then go on about his business?  It was an intriguing thought and maybe he'd try it someday.  But not tonight, he thought, glancing at his watch.  It was time for him to get back to work.

Sliding the bartender some bills, Ray stood up and said, "Thanks, Scottie.  Be seeing you."

"Take care, Ray.  And hey, give your partner a chance.  Any guy that hangs out with his dead father's probably not all that excitable."

Ray nodded and smiled, but inside he was cursing pushy women who gave their unasked-for opinions and tried to match make even if they didn't know that's what they were doing.  He frowned briefly as he realized that shouldn't make sense, but it did and that was just another example of how confused he was over this whole thing with Fraser.

Ray had known all along he couldn't get involved, and he'd *thought* he was resigned to that, but now he was caring whether the guy was putting himself in needless danger.  And any gun to the head was needless, in Ray's opinion.  It's not like Fraser would bounce back like Ray could.  The man was only human.

Even though his thoughts were whirling around and around the Fraser situation, Ray noticed the second he got that prickly 'somebody's watching' feeling on the back of his neck.  He wondered if he was being followed, but a casual glance back down the alley revealed nothing and no one.  He concentrated on making his steps as silent as possible and he thought he heard a very quiet shuffling rustle.  The sound--whether real or nightmare-remembered--sent a chill down his spine.

Steeling himself for any possibility, Ray drew his gun and spun around all in one lightning fast move.  He scanned the alley carefully, paying close attention to the darkest shadows and the potential hiding places by the trashcans and dumpsters.  He saw nothing, not even the obligatory stray cat that would've jumped out if this had been a horror movie.

He stood there for another long moment watching the alley and then turned toward the street and gave it the same thorough once over.  But still nothing seemed out of place, so he got into his car and went back to work.

***
 

Ray had been awake for about an hour and was taking a stroll through the wasteland that was afternoon television.  He stopped clicking on "Sailor Moon", just as he heard a knock at the door.  He walked quietly to the door and looked out the peephole, fully prepared to ignore it if the visitor was a salesman or some other person on the unwelcome guest list.

It was Fraser.  Ray chose not to be surprised or irritated over this unexpected visit, although he could have been either or both.  Fraser had a way of short-circuiting those kinds of reactions--on the small scale--just by being.  It was disconcerting, but Ray discovered that he was getting used to it.

Opening up the door, Ray stood back so that Fraser and Diefenbaker could enter.  Leaning down to give Dief a rub behind the ears, he said, "Fraser...what brings you here in the middle of the day?  Shouldn't you be at the consulate by now protecting that little patch of Canadian soil from invasion or something?"

"I took a break and decided to walk over and see how you were doing."

Sarcasm was just so useful at times like these, thought Ray.  "Oh my *goodness*, you take breaks?  It's not against the Invincible Mountie Code?"

"No, regularly scheduled breaks are known to reduce stress and provide a more efficient work environment."

"But *you* take them?"  Ray asked skeptically as he motioned Fraser into the living room.

Fraser wore an expression that bordered on sheepish, as he ducked his head and said, "Um, well, not usually, no.  I also wondered if you'd like to go out to lunch with me."

Ray froze and lost all interest in friendly teasing. He stared suspiciously at Fraser, who looked back at him with mildly interested curiosity.  But there was something in his eyes...talk about disconcerting, Ray thought, but all he said was, "I already had lunch."

"Well, you could come anyway and keep me company.  Diefenbaker is not the world's best conversationalist, and most restaurants won't let him inside anyway."

"Not the ones you'd want to actually eat in.  No offense there, fur face."  Ray gave the wolf another scratch behind the ears before he wandered off again.

"So you'll come with me?"  Fraser asked in that of-course-you-will tone that he got when he thought he was being more reasonable than whoever he was talking to.

"No, I can't.  I got things to do-- uh, I don't want to miss my show."  Ray waved at the TV in what became a half-hearted motion when he remembered where he'd left the channel.

"You don't want to miss...a show about big-eyed young girls in very short dresses?  Really, Ray."

"Hey, I'm not a pervert.  That is quality Japanese animation, my friend, featuring the struggle between right and wrong, cosmic battles between good and evil, and uh... there's a talking cat."

"And girls in very short dresses."

"I thought you Mounties didn't notice that kind of thing."

"Well, being a Mountie doesn't mean I'm blind."

Ray couldn't believe he was having this conversation with the only guy who could have given Dudley Do-Right a run for his money in the obliviously good category, but it was much better than the conversation they could be having.

"Who do you think is hotter, Sailor Mars or Sailor Mercury?"

"Really, Ray.  I barely glanced at the set," said Fraser, reminding Ray of his third grade teacher, who had given him that same look every time he squirmed in his seat--which had been so often that he got real familiar with the look.

"That's what I thought."  Ray nodded and went over to the terrarium and pulled Diefenbaker's muzzle away from the glass, looked at him straight in the eye and said, "Leave the turtle alone."

Dief flopped onto the floor with a whine that sounded apologetic, making Ray wish his human companion were half so easy to deal with.  "Can't you do something with him?"

"He seems to listen to you as much as he listens to me."  Fraser stepped closer to Ray, head tilted slightly, eyes intense, as he said, "And I'm very curious about that.  Have you always had this way with animals?  And is it the same with *all* animals or just dogs and wolves?"

"What?  You think I been hanging out with *other* wolves?  Yeah, right."  Ray snorted in disbelief.  "I don't know why he likes me.  I didn't do anything but slip him a treat or two at the station.  He loved those Twinkies that Vecchio left behind, but if that's all it takes to gain his undying affection, that is one cheap wolf."

"Hmm.  That may be."  Fraser glanced at Dief and then back at Ray, but the intensity didn't fade from his eyes until he blinked and said evenly, "So if you aren't available for lunch, how about an early supper before your shift starts?"

Ray laughed to cover his uneasiness and said, "What are you doing, Fraser?  Asking me out on a date or something?"

Frowning briefly, Fraser appeared to consider the question before he said, "No.  I just thought--"

"Yeah."  Ray told himself he was not disappointed, because he'd never expected it anyway...right?  Right, so... "Well, I've got plans tonight anyway."

"What about this weekend?  Will you be free then?"

"Maybe.  We'll see then, okay?"  Ray walked around Fraser, making his way toward the front door in what he hoped was a casual manner, when that was the last thing he felt.  "Between the walk over and the time we've been gabbing, I guess your lunch hour's about over, huh?"

Fraser glanced at his watch and nodded.  "Yes, I should be returning to the consulate."

"Pick up something on the way."

"Yes, I'll do that.  Ray..." Fraser stopped in the small entrance hall and looked Ray square in the eyes.  "I know that we haven't known each other for very long but, nevertheless, I hope you know that if you're having a problem, you can come to me.  Even if you just need someone to talk to."

With some sadness, Ray realized that it never would have occurred to him to make such an offer, not to Fraser or anyone else.  He had to wonder how Fraser could do it and make it sound so easy.  "Trust me, Fraser, you do *not* wanna take on the job of being my therapist or--or father confessor or whatever."

"I just want to be your friend, Ray," Fraser said, with quiet sincerity.

"Hey, we're cool.  We're buddies, right?"  Ray tried out a cheerful smile, but it faltered quickly.  He gave up and ran a hand over his mouth and said, "I'll come by and pick you up before I go to work, okay?

Fraser nodded.  "Thank you, Ray.  Diefenbaker, let's go."

Diefenbaker gave Fraser a long look and then walked back toward Ray, circling him once before sitting down beside him.  Fraser sighed, but spoke patiently. "Dief, come on.  It's time for us to go."

Ray would have sworn it looked like the wolf shrugged his shoulders before lying down across Ray's bare feet.  He tried to step back out from under the pile of fur, but Dief just moved with him.  Finally Ray looked up at Fraser with a shrug of his own and said, "He can stay if he wants."

"Are you sure?  He may have to go out."

Ray hadn't considered that, but he was sure he could work around it.  In fact, this could be an opportunity to allay whatever suspicions Fraser seemed to be having.  "We'll manage."

"If you're certain."

"No problem.  Better get going before the Ice Queen sends a hit squad after you."

"For being late?  I hardly think that Inspector Thatcher would-- Well, maybe she would."

"Fraser, was that a joke?  A joke about your superior officer?"  Ray clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock disappointment.

"You must be a bad influence," Fraser said very seriously.  Then he smiled, put his hat on, and walked out the door.

Ray stared after him for a moment then looked down at Dief.  "Well, wolf, it's just you and me.  Let's go see if Sailor Moon's still on. You like cartoon girls in short dresses?  No?  Maybe we can find you some Road Runner.  That more your speed?"

***
 

After watching cartoons to the point where even Diefenbaker was bored--which didn't take all that long, Ray remembered that he was almost out of clean shirts.  He checked his pocket change for quarters and took an overflowing laundry basket down to the basement.

When he ran into his landlady on the stairs, Ray had to spend a couple minutes assuring her that the dog was just visiting.  The woman still seemed suspicious, but eventually gave in and went back to whatever it was she did all day.  Ray could count on one hand how many conversations he'd had with her, and he thought that this one might qualify as the longest.  What did that say about him?  And why was he even thinking about it now?  Maybe it was Fraser's influence.  It was probably only a matter of time until he was compulsively holding doors for people and rescuing kittens from trees.

Dief investigated every inch of the laundry room while Ray loaded up the washers then sat down on a rickety straight chair someone had left behind about forty years before, from the looks of it.  The wolf came over, laid his head on Ray's knee, and looked up at him adoringly.  Ray shook his head and gave Dief a good neck scratch.  "What do you know about me, huh?  What do you see that makes you like me so much?"

Dief made noise in his throat that Ray couldn't interpret, so he kept talking.

"And just what does your human think, hmm?  That's what I oughta be worrying about.  Fraser's sharp and he doesn't give up.  I knew that just from reading his file.  What kinda freak jumps onto moving cars and leaps out windows all the time?  And that tasting thing..."

Ray shuddered and then grinned down at Dief as another thought struck him.  "If he wants to put something in his mouth so bad, I could think of something much better than dirt off the street.  I'd much rather have him licking on me than a rock or something."

Dief closed his eyes and whimpered, making Ray chuckle and ask, "Too much info for ya, fur face?  Well, too bad, 'cause it's true.  When I'm not having the nightmares, I have these wet dreams that would make your hair stand on end--well, maybe not *yours*, but it does mine.  But you really don't want to hear that part, do you?"

Diefenbaker walked over to the doorway and gave a very un-wolf-like yip and then turned as if waiting for Ray to catch up.

"What do you want?  You wanna go out?"  Ray stood up and sighed, "How we gonna do this?  I can't go outside with you.  I'm not even sure I can open the door so you can go out by yourself."

He followed Dief up to the ground floor and instinctively shrank back when he saw the rectangles of sunshine coming through the sidelights and stretching across the floor, as if reaching directly for him.  Watching Dief run eagerly toward the door, Ray quickly considered which of the few people in the building he'd ever spoken to that would do him a favor.  He remembered there was a kid--he glanced at his watch--that should be home from school by now.  Ray didn't know which apartment he lived in, but he thought it was on this floor.

Walking slowly down the hall, Ray stopped at each door and listened carefully until he heard music--Metallica, he thought.  He knocked at the door and waited until it opened up a crack and a creaky adolescent voice said, "Yeah, what do you want?"

"Ray Vecchio.  I live upstairs.  I was wondering if you'd do me a favor and take my dog out for a walk."

"I don't do favors."

"It'll only take a couple of minutes... I'll give you a buck."

"Ten."

"Two."  Ray stared into the one brown eye peeking out at him and tried to do that compelling thing that Trevor had done on him.

"Seven."

Since compulsion didn't seem to work, Ray fell back what he knew best.  He looked over the top of the boy's head, sniffed and said,  "Five, and I won't tell your Mom you've been smoking her cigarettes.  Mmm...menthol, nice."

"Oh, all right," the boy grumbled and opened the door wider.  He stepped out into the hallway with a suspicious look and said, "Up front."

Ray pulled two singles out of his wallet.  "Bring him down to the laundry room when he's done and I'll give you the rest."

The boy took them without getting too close.  "You're not some kinda perv, are you?"

Ray patted his pants pockets until he found his case, flipped it open to show his badge and said, "No, I'm a cop doing his laundry.  And even if I *was* a perv, I probably wouldn't just tell you.  His name's Diefenbaker--don't ask-- and he's deaf so look him in the face when you talk to him."

Ray looked down into Dief's eyes and said, "Go do your thing.  He'll--What's your name again?"

"Roger."

"Roger'll open the doors for you, so don't run off or nothing, okay?"

"You don't expect him to answer, do you?"  Roger watched Ray like he was the kind of nutcase that was more funny than scary.

"No, of course not.  He's a dog, for crying out loud.  Go on, before he takes a whiz on the floor."  Ray could have sworn there was a knowing look in Dief's eyes as he turned to follow the kid to the front door.

Ray went back downstairs, moved his clothes over to the dryer, and sat down to watch them spin.  He let his thoughts spin too, until he was lulled into a calmer state of mind regarding Fraser.  The man was his partner now, and Ray had to treat him as such-- and hope like hell that Fraser got over his suspicions before he figured out what really made Ray tick.

Ray was packing up his clothes to take back upstairs when Dief came strolling in with a big wolfy grin on his face.  Roger came in right behind him and immediately held out his hand.  Ray gave him three more bills and the kid muttered something that might have been "thanks" as he stuffed them in his jeans pocket.  "You ever need me to take him for a walk and, you know, I don't have nothing better to do..."

"Well, he's not my dog, but if he's ever visiting again, I'll keep it in mind."  Ray watched as the kid nodded and walked away, then gathered up his stuff and went back to his apartment, with Diefenbaker staying right by his side.

***
 

For the next week, Ray and Fraser fell into a routine of working and talking casually, gradually getting to know each other better.  Fraser didn't bring up the subject of dinner again, but he did come over to Ray's apartment on Saturday afternoon because Diefenbaker wanted to see him.  That was what he said and Ray had no reason to call him a liar, no matter what he wanted to think of Fraser's motives.

Ray wanted to think there was something a little extra friendly in the smiles that Fraser had started to give him with increasing frequency.  He wanted to think there was something special in the way that Fraser found ways to touch him, even though he was rather reserved with the rest of the people they came into contact with on a nightly basis.  He wanted to think Fraser looked at him a little longer and more intensely than strictly necessary.  He wanted to think all those things, but he knew it was a bad idea. And in the history of bad ideas, the worst was his stubborn attempts to get closer to Fraser when common sense told him to stay cool and removed and just do his job.

Tonight they were on stakeout, relieving a couple of day-shift detectives outside the office building of a suspected murderer.  Ray personally thought the guy was more likely to be lying on a beach in Brazil than skulking around his former place of employment.  But it wasn't his case and maybe the other cops had information they weren't sharing.  He didn't care, because he had Fraser there to break the monotony of sitting in a car for hours until his butt fell asleep.  Dief had the right idea of staying home in Fraser's nice comfy bed.

Fraser was telling Ray a story that had not been in his files.  It was about a plane crash in a remote forest, the hunt for a desperate escaped killer, and the way Ray Vecchio had taken care of an injured Fraser.  Ray listened to the story with a sinking heart.  The real Vecchio sounded heroic enough for Fraser, a really dedicated friend.  And what was Ray Kowalski?  Just a freak who'd never be good enough pretending to be the guy who was.  That was very nearly more fucked up than the whole bloodsucker thing.

"After all that, it was quite a while before I felt like going on another vacation," said Fraser in conclusion.

"Yeah, I can understand that."  Ray nodded and stared out the windshield at the empty street.  "So you and Vecchio were really close, huh?"

"Yes, best friends.  That was part of your briefing, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't tell the whole story, does it?  He took a bullet for you, and you'd have done the same for him, right?"

"You took a bullet for me too," Fraser reminded him.  "And it was after a much shorter acquaintance."

"Yeah, well, that wasn't the same, was it?  I didn't really take a bullet.  The vest did.  No bloodshed."

"Hmm.  I'm not so sure about that, Ray."  Fraser gave him a curiously gentle smile.

"Ah ha.  You've finally caught on, have you, son?"  Robert Fraser spoke from his customary place in the back seat.  Ray was sure he hadn't been there a moment before, but then the old man was prone to making sudden entrances.  Scaring Ray by popping up out of nowhere was probably the biggest fun the ghost ever had.

Fraser kept his eyes on Ray as he asked, "Caught on to what, Dad?"

"What makes him so odd.  You've figured out his secret--that he's been dead, but he's not quite anymore.  He's undead."

At that, Ray had to speak up.  "Anyone who's still breathing is 'undead', as in 'not dead'.  I thought that would be obvious to a coupla smart Mounties like yourselves."  He continued to stare out the window as if bored by the whole conversation, but inside he was nowhere near as calm.  His stomach was clenched into a hard knot and his chest felt tight, like he couldn't take a deep breath if he wanted to.

"I think he means 'undead' in the traditional vampiric usage, Ray," said Fraser, in an oh-so-helpful-explanatory voice.  "It is often believed to have begun with Vlad Tepes, also known as Vlad the Impaler, in fifteenth century Romania, but vampire legend is in fact much older than that.  Stories of vampires have been recorded all throughout history.  It would not seem unreasonable that the myths were based in some bit of fact."

"You are both stark raving looney tunes.  And I don't have to listen to these fairy tales anymore."  Ray opened the door, hoping the other two men couldn't see how his hand trembled on the handle.  "I'm gonna take a walk around the building because, you know, I do have a job to do here."

As he walked away, Ray focused his hearing back on the car and heard Fraser say, "Are you happy?  You spoke too soon, and now he's never going to trust me."

"Son, you don't want to get mixed up with his kind."

"Yes, I do.  His *kind*?  What sort of talk is that?  His kind?"

Fraser's indignant voice faded away from Ray's awareness as other sounds took its place.  Sounds of scuffling, grunting, and cursing came from a narrow breezeway between two buildings just ahead of him.  Ray knew the sounds of a fight when he heard one, so he pulled his gun from its holster and held it at the ready as he approached.  He turned the corner and announced, "Chicago P.D.  Hold it right there.  Hands where I can see 'em."

The words were standard and it was a good thing because when he heard the growl coming from the guy on the right and saw the fangs glinting in the orange tinted streetlights, Ray's cop brain switched off and his other nature took over.  His own teeth lengthened and sharpened so fast his mouth ached as he lowered his gun and walked closer.  He looked at the man crumpled on the ground but couldn't see any blood.  He sniffed deeply and...ah, there it was.  Just a trace calling to him with its sweetness.

The man on the ground was moving and groaning, so Ray knew he wasn't dead, but he didn't know if he was human or not, which was information critical for making decisions about medical care.  The vampire was still standing over the man, watching Ray closely.

Ray showed his fangs in identification and said, "What's going on here?  Is he human?"

The vampire sneered down at the man on the ground and said, "Not even close.  Why don't you stay out of this?  I'm going to kill him one way or another, and it's not like you're going to *arrest* me for it.  I've seen you in Scottie's bar.  You're just like me."

"No, I'm not.  Why'd you want to kill this guy?"  Ray heard Fraser come up behind him, but didn't turn to look as he realized that the cat which had started to sneak out of the proverbial bag a few moments ago was now flying out claws first.

"Because he tried to cheat me, didn't you, George?"  He nonchalantly kicked the man on the ground in the ribs.  "He said he would sell me his sister, and then tried to pass off a street hooker.  I've got to keep my standards, don't I?"

"You tried to buy his *sister*?"  Ray looked incredulously at the vampire and then at George. "You were gonna sell your sister?"

"Sure, he was.  He'd get the money to pay off his bookie and I'd get a steady fresh supply."  The vampire licked his lips and grinned.  "Yum yum."

"You sick fuck," Ray shook his head in disgust  "Why don't you just find somebody who likes having their blood sucked?"

"I like the extra tang that fear adds.  It's all so much better when they squirm and beg."  The vampire shifted on his feet, subtly moving closer to Ray as he asked, "Don't you agree?"

"No."  Ray put his gun in his holster since it wouldn't do any good anyway, and took out his handcuffs.  "You can't go around buying people like--" The words got cut off when the vampire suddenly darted past Ray, knocking him back into Fraser, who steadied him before turning and running after the vampire.  For a moment, Ray hesitated over running after them or checking on the injured man.  He settled for asking, "Hey, you sister-selling-son-of-a-bitch, you gonna be all right?"

"Yeah," George groaned and pulled himself up to a sitting position.  "That fucker was really gonna kill me."

Ray didn't bother to answer, just turned and ran in the direction the vampire had taken.   As he got closer to Fraser, Ray closed his lips over his teeth and tried to remember not to run *too* fast.  He and Fraser were right in step as they followed the vampire around a corner, but when the vamp leaped up onto a fire escape, Ray put on a burst of speed and got there ahead of Fraser.

Shoving the cuffs he still carried into his jacket pocket, Ray grabbed the bottom rung of the dangling ladder and scrambled up two floors before looking back to see Fraser climbing up several feet behind him.  He glanced up in time to see the vampire disappear over the edge of the roof, so he used more of his preternatural speed to climb up the next three levels.  He didn't bother to check on Fraser's position, instead taking off over the roof.

As he rounded the side of an air conditioning unit, a fist came flying out of the darkness and slammed into his cheek.  He rolled his head with the punch and brought his hands up to hit back, but the guy was already dancing away and saying, "This is stupid.  You and me, we should be on the same side."

"No, no, I'm nothing like you.  I won't be."  Ray steadily followed the vampire across the roof and tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do when he caught him.

Stopping by a pile of discarded construction debris, the vampire snatched up a piece of wood and lunged at Ray, who ducked and stumbled back, falling onto his back in the pea gravel.  A sharp point raked across his cheek and down his throat, jaggedly ripping the skin open as Ray rolled over.  He ignored the excruciating pain and gush of blood and brought his foot up to catch the vampire in the stomach, holding him back as he grabbed the board and twisted.

Pained shock crossed the face of the vampire as he looked down at the impromptu stake sticking out of his chest.  Ray couldn't say he was any less surprised as the man crumbled to ashy dust all over him.  He blinked the dust out of his eyes and swallowed hard.

"Ray...Ray...Ray!  Are you all right?"

Fraser's voice penetrated the sticky haze that seemed to have enveloped Ray and he shook his head slowly.  "I...I don't know.  Did you...did you see that?"

"Yes, Ray.  I saw and heard the whole thing."  Fraser spoke in the overly calm voice one uses with scared children or people in shock--both of which Ray felt like at the moment.

Ray looked up at a suddenly wavery Fraser and said faintly, "You know.  You s-- 'spected before, but now... you *know*."

"Yes, Ray, I know."  Fraser knelt beside Ray and pressed something dry and soft to his aching throat.  "You seemed to have lost a lot of blood even though the wounds on your face and neck have already started to heal."

The world spun around his head as Ray tried to get his tongue to work again. "That 'splains...wet...sticky..." Then the darkness closed in on Ray and he fell into it willingly.

***
 

Ray resurfaced to the feel of a warm rough hand on his cheek...smacking him firmly and briskly.  His mouth opened before his eyes, but all that he could come up with was, "Ow, quit it."

"Sorry, Ray.  I just needed you to wake up.  We've got to see if you can stand up and move on your own," said Fraser, sounding more like a nurse than a Mountie.

Ray tried to sit up, but even with Fraser's strong hand on his back, it was a chore.  He slumped against Fraser's side in defeat and said, "I can't.  I gotta...I need..."

After a charged moment, Fraser asked matter-of-factly, "You need blood to replace that which you've lost?"

Ray nodded weakly.  "I'm sorry.  Can you go--"

"No need to apologize for your nature, Ray.  We are what we are, and fighting it just leads to pain.  Great amounts of pain."  Though Fraser may have been trying to sound philosophical, Ray could hear ragged threads of old hurt and heartbreak in his voice.  He wondered fuzzily if Fraser was thinking about Victoria or Vecchio, but before he could turn it into a truly nagging question, he heard the distinctive sound of ripping Velcro.

Ray opened his eyes and looked up to see that Fraser had taken off his hat and was now opening up the jacket part of his uniform, revealing a white henley and a long stretch of pale throat.  Ray could practically see the life pulsing within that throat, making the hunger claw its way to the front of his addled consciousness.  Saliva flooded his mouth as his tongue pushed eagerly against the back of his fangs.  He could hardly believe that Fraser would offer, would even *consider*...   Of course, Ray wanted it, wanted Fraser, but Fraser was volunteering and *that* was not a possibility that had ever occurred to him before.

They seemed to be at a rather bizarre turning point, but he had no time to fully grasp how big it was because Fraser bent over him, pushing his throat against Ray's mouth.  He'd dreamed of this, but here Fraser was just giving it up with a hint of excitement lurking in his aggressive practicality.  "You have to do it, Ray.  It's the only way to get you off this roof before sunrise."

Ray barely had time to wonder just how long he'd been out before nature took over.  His mouth opened wide as he sank his teeth into Fraser's skin as gently as he could.  The fangs slid in as smooth as a needle in an apple, and a tiny grunt in the back of Fraser's throat sent a bolt of heat to Ray's groin.  As Ray got his first exquisite taste, Fraser's arms went around Ray's body more fully, holding him instead of simply holding him up.

As the blood poured over his tongue, hot, sweet, and indescribably vital, Ray started to get flashes of Fraser's life.  A young boy with blue eyes that Ray would know anywhere played with a darker boy and a girl with short black hair and a mischievous smile.  A tall young man proudly put on red serge for the first time.  Snow, a disjointed bit of poetry, loneliness and more snow, a wolf, icy water, tears and candles, a burning pain in his back, falling, falling...

Ray's cock hardened, pounding and thrumming as arousal and growing bloodlust combined in a primal urge, but the sound of Fraser's gasping breath and frantically beating heart--coming from under him-- pulled Ray back from the brink.  He was scared that he'd taken too much without even knowing it.  He took one last lick up the side of Fraser's throat, cleaning him with a little cat bath.  He could feel the holes closing under his tongue, and thought that was cool and very convenient.  For a moment, he wondered if he could lick and heal any injury or just those little ones he made himself.  Then he opened his eyes again and his own breath froze in his chest as he saw that he had ended up on top of Fraser at some point, his legs straddling one of Fraser's, his erection trying to dig a hole in Fraser's thigh.  He was slightly reassured by the fact that Fraser was still holding onto him.

Lying back on the roof, Fraser's head was tilted to one side, his eyes were closed, and a purely blissful smile curved his lips.  Ray was certain it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and that wigged him out so much he rolled out of Fraser's arms and sat up a couple of feet away.  The unmistakable smell of spunk immediately drew his eyes to Fraser's crotch, where a damp spot was just barely visible on the front of his dark pants.

Opening his eyes and following Ray's stare, Fraser glanced down at himself and sighed as he looked back at Ray unapologetically.  "That was...amazing.  Truly one of the most pleasurable experiences of my entire life.  Thank you, Ray."  Polite verbosity aside, his voice sounded drugged and Ray wondered if he'd have the same opinion when he sobered up... or whatever coming down from being fed on was called.

"Shut up, Fraser."

"There's no call for rudeness, Ray."

"I know and I'm sorry, but don't you understand what I just did to you?  That...that was..."

"I volunteered, and you took only what you needed and no more.  I feel fine, more than fine, actually.  Did you know that the human body--"

Confused by how well Fraser was taking all of this, Ray interrupted him with an impatient frown.  "Don't spout facts at me, Fraser.  Please.  You can get all Encyclopedia Britannica on me as soon as we get indoors, okay?"

"As you wish, Ray."  Fraser looked at his watch, straight up at the sky, and then toward the east.  "We have twenty-six minutes to get you home."

Ray climbed to his feet, still feeling weak and shaky.  He needed more blood, but he'd have to get it from a bottle.  It pissed him off that nobody had warned him about this particular little free-bleeding side effect.  They were all 'stay out of sun' and 'don't eat anything', but not one mention of 'hey, you can lose a pint of blood from a papercut'.  He'd gotten more than a papercut and was definitely a couple quarts low.

Either Fraser was very strong or Ray hadn't actually taken that much blood from him, because he was remarkably steady on his feet as he helped Ray across the roof and down the fire escape.  As soon as they touched the ground, Ray remembered why they'd been out here in the first place.  "The stakeout.  Aww jeez, I forgot all about it."

"I took the liberty of borrowing your cellular phone and calling Detectives Huey and Dewey to come and take over for us.  Detective Huey called back half an hour later to say they had picked up the suspect and were taking him in for booking."

"No," Ray groaned.  "That's just great.  I'll never hear the end of it."

"I also went to check on the man who was attacked, but he was gone."

"That figures.  Ungrateful son of a bitch."  Ray grumbled and then realized that if the man had actually done what the dead guy said he did, then Ray would have been tempted to ram a sharp object through his chest too.  So on reflection, it seemed a good thing that the little weasel had run away.

The walk back to the car seemed about a dozen times longer than it had during their earlier chase, and when they reached it, Ray leaned against the side of the car for a moment.  Digging his keys out of his pants pocket, he handed them to Fraser and asked, "You *can* drive, can't you?"

Fraser smiled mysteriously.  "Sometimes."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing.  Here, let me get your door."

Ray let Fraser open the door and strap him into the passenger seat.  Fraser drove slowly, obeying every traffic rule even when the streets were all but deserted.  Finally, sitting at their fourth straight red light, Ray snapped.  "Just go already."

"The light is still red."

"There's nobody coming from any direction, and I'm gonna be a crispy critter if I don't get home soon."

The light turned green and Fraser cautiously accelerated through the intersection.  "It'll be all right, Ray.  Trust me."

"Please don't say that, Fraser.  In the movies, any time somebody says 'trust me' the whole thing goes to hell."

"Real life is seldom like the movies."

"Mmm hmm.  Tell me about it when I'm not in danger of making like the human torch."

"We'll make it, Ray.  Tr- uh, try not to worry."

"The crazy thing is, I do trust you Fraser.  I dunno know why.  I have no idea what you're thinking or what you're gonna do about what you saw tonight...what I did to you and...and that guy.  But I know you'll do the right thing...because that's what you do.  Right?"

"I certainly try to, but I have done...some things...of which I'm not proud.  I have hurt people, and I've disappointed them.  I hope it will be different with you."

"None of us are perfect, Fraser.  Why don't you quit expecting yourself to be?"

"It's not about perfection.  It's about duty and honor and friendship and love, and how those things sometimes conflict."

Ray ignored the tremor in his stomach, which could have been some unnamable emotional response or just the hunger from blood loss, and focused on the easiest part of the equation. "Duty and honor aren't just words to you, are they?  You really believe all that stuff."

"Yes, I do, and sometimes a person's duty is not as clear cut as strictly following the letter of the law."

"What does that mean?  You're not gonna arrest me for staking that guy back there?"

"No.  It was clearly self-defense, but in any case, this would not be a matter for the courts.  This...these people are playing by a different set of rules, and I'm not sure yet what they are."  Fraser looked over at Ray for the first time since the conversation had turned serious, and appeared to flip the mental switch between Mountie and regular guy. "We're here, Ray.  In plenty of time, I might point out," he said, rather smugly in Ray's opinion.

Ray grinned and said, "Still gotta get inside though."

Fraser got out of the car, ran around the back, and jerked Ray's door open.  Ray had unsnapped his seatbelt so all Fraser had to do was brace him with a hand under his elbow as he got his feet under him.  Ray walked into the building under his own steam, but he stumbled a few times going up the stairs.  Each time he did, Fraser put a hand on his back or around his arm, just quick little unobtrusive 'I'm here if you need me' touches.

Once inside Ray's apartment, Fraser went directly to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth while Ray went into the kitchen and filled up his biggest coffee mug with blood and popped it into the microwave.  Fraser came back as Ray removed the cup and took a long satisfying sip.  The sound of a politely cleared throat made Ray nearly jump out of his skin.

"Jeez, don't sneak up on me like that," Ray said, licking off a splash of blood that had sloshed out of the cup onto his hand.  He glanced up to see Fraser standing on the other side of the breakfast bar watching him closely--not repulsed, as Ray would have expected but more like mesmerized.  When Fraser's lips parted so that Ray could see the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth, Ray felt a bolt of lust that curled his toes.  He took another sip of blood that should have been calming but wasn't since Fraser continued to watch him like he was a bug under a microscope.  When his frazzled nerves stretched unbearably thin, Ray set the cup down and snapped, "What?"

Fraser walked around the end of the counter and silently started to wash away the dried blood on Ray's face.  The cloth was warm, damp, and slightly rough on his suddenly sensitive skin, and Ray suppressed a shudder of longing for the sensation to go on and on, all over his body.  Even though he knew it was another of those Bad Ideas that he seemed to excel at lately, he couldn't take his eyes off Fraser's face.  Seeing his own fascination reflected back was as staggering as it was arousing.

Since he was standing only inches away, Fraser's breath shivered across Ray's cheek as he said in a near whisper, "Remarkable.  Your skin is completely unmarred."  He lifted his hand and traced the tips of his fingers lightly over Ray's jaw and down his neck.  "How does it feel?"

"Fantastic," Ray said, letting out a long breath.  "I mean, it...it doesn't hurt anymore."

"That's good."  Without taking his eyes from Ray, Fraser reached over and turned the water on in the sink and rinsed out the cloth.  When he brought it back, he ran the hot cloth over Ray's neck and seemed to pay special attention to the hollow between his collar bones.  Licking his lips, he said, in a voice gone husky, "You'll have to remove your shirt, Ray, so I can clean the blood from your chest."

Although his body was urging him to strip naked right there, Ray swallowed hard and caught Fraser's hand in his, taking the cloth and tossing it in the sink.  He forced himself to take a step back, and was surprised to see disappointment in Fraser's eyes before he looked down at the floor and scratched an eyebrow with his thumbnail.  It was a habitual gesture that Ray'd seen him do a hundred times, but for the first time it made him look forlorn and needy.  Before he could talk himself out of it, Ray put his hand on Fraser's shoulder and squeezed lightly.  "Thanks, Fraser.  For everything you've done and for not freaking out and calling me a monster."

Fraser's head came up quickly and he said, "I would never--"

"Maybe not, but there's been plenty of times I thought it myself, so what should I expect, huh?"  Ray shook his head and took his hand away.  "Anyway, I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate your-- your..." He rolled his eyes in exasperation and finally said, "you being...well, you."

Fraser smiled in return and Ray thought he saw the beginnings of a blush before Fraser turned to the sink, fished the cloth out and started to rinse it out again.

Ray picked up his cup, drank the contents, and then set it back down with a decisive little thump.  He tried to sound brisk when he said, "I'm gonna go take a shower.  You want me to get you some clean clothes?"

This time, Fraser was definitely blushing as he wrung out the cloth and draped it over the edge of the sink.  "Ah, no thank you, Ray.  My tunic covers...  I should be getting home."

Ray really wanted to figure out which was the real Fraser.  Was he the shy man who blushed and stammered because he'd come in his pants?  Or was he the brazen man who practically insisted on having his blood sucked and then politely thanked Ray for the experience?  Just how innocent was this guy?  He was like half Clark Kent and half Superman--all the time.  "You could stay if... if you wanted to."

"I do.  I have a lot of questions to ask you.  But Diefenbaker will need to go out soon."

"Why don't you take my car?  You can bring it back this evening."

"Thank you kindly, Ray.  But I think the walk would do me good.  Maybe the cold air will clear my head."  Fraser walked back around to the living room and picked up his hat.  "Will you be all right?"

Ray shrugged.  Would he?  He had no idea.  The night had been extremely eventful and he was still trying to figure out what all of it meant and how he felt about what he'd done.  The killing of another vampire seemed to pale in comparison to what all had happened between him and Fraser.  How would that change their relationship?  How did he *want* it to change?  Suddenly realizing that Fraser was still patiently waiting for an answer, Ray said, "I'll be fine.  Go get some sleep.  Give Dief an extra pat on the head for me."

"If you're sure you're okay."  Fraser walked to the door.  "Goodnight, Ray."

Ray grinned and gave him a little wave.  "Good morning, Fraser."

"Ah yes, so it is."  Fraser closed the door quietly behind him, and Ray poured and heated another cup of blood before going to take his shower.
 

"Clear his head?  What does that mean?"  Ray muttered to himself as he peeled his T-shirt off and tossed it in the wastebasket.  His outer shirt had been a loss too, but he thought he could clean the jacket.  At the rate he was going, pretty soon he'd have no clothes left.  He dropped his pants and stepped into the shower, turning the cold water on first.  "I bet 'clear my head' is Canadian for 'figure out how to avoid you for the rest of my life'.  He's probably nursing a big ball of regret, wondering what the hell he was thinking to get involved with such a freak.  Oh yeah, like he had any choice in the matter.  Poor guy comes back from vacation to find some guy he's never seen before pretending to be his partner and he's gotta go along with it?  It's crazy, and I don't blame him for running--*if* that's what he does."

Ray stopped talking to himself and turned on the hot water.  Neither the cold nor the attempt at distraction had done anything for his leftover arousal.  He'd been hard the whole time Fraser was in his apartment, and had tried desperately to ignore it, hoping it would go away.  It hadn't, and now it was reaching the painful point where he had to do something or risk serious injury.

Bracing one hand on the shower wall, Ray rubbed the other over the bar of soap and took his cock in a slick grip, stroking slowly at first as he remembered the taste of Fraser's blood.  Theoretically, all blood should taste the same and probably would to a normal person, but it didn't to Ray.  There were subtle differences, and Fraser's was more to his personal taste than any he'd tried so far.  Ray could drain him dry so easily, licking up every last delectable drop.  His hand picked up speed, sending soap bubbles flying.  He pictured the look on Fraser's face after the drink and decided that he wouldn't have to hold him down or tie him up, unless Fraser himself insisted.  But that might be fun too--they both had handcuffs and Fraser had that convenient little rope thing on his uniform...  Jerking erratically a few more times, Ray came in a pink-tinged stream that was immediately washed away.

That was probably how it should be, Ray thought as he realized how creepy his thoughts had gotten while he was jerking off.  It was just fantasy, right?  He'd never actually want to tie up Fraser and suck out all his blood.  He'd have to be completely out of his mind to do something like that, and the thought scared the hell out of him.  He wasn't going nuts, was he?  As long as he knew it was all fantasy, he was probably all right.  That's what he told himself as he turned off the shower and got ready for bed.  He told himself firmly and repeatedly until he believed it.

***
 

When night fell and Ray hadn't heard from Fraser, he began to wonder--not *worry*--just wonder what was going on with him.  He wondered if Fraser was so freaked out by what all had happened the night before that he couldn't even speak to Ray.  Ray had thought about calling him at the consulate, but had decided to let him have whatever space he needed to deal with everything.  That didn't stop him from wondering why Fraser didn't call *him* though.

Calling the consulate got him Turnbull's voice on an answering machine advising him to call again during regular business hours or to page the given number in case of an emergency and, of course, to have a nice evening.  Because it wasn't an emergency, he hung up the phone and took a jacket out of the hall closet.  Since Fraser didn't have a phone, Ray would just have to go over to his apartment to talk to him.

In the middle of putting on his jacket, Ray opened the door and almost walked into Fraser's raised fist.  He jumped back and Fraser immediately apologized.

"I was just about to knock on your door, Ray."

"Yeah, I figured you didn't come over to punch me out.  That wouldn't exactly be the best way to do it--waiting for me to just walk into your fist."

Dressed in tight blue jeans, navy blue henley, and a leather jacket, Fraser seemed more solemn than usual as he nodded and said, "You were going out.  I can come back some other time."

"No.  No, I was..." Ray nervously rubbed his ear and continued sheepishly, "I was coming to see you."

"We need to talk."

"Yeah, I guess so."

After a moment of just staring at each other, Ray and Fraser both spoke at the same time:

"May I--"

"You wanna--"

Ray moved out of the doorway and stepped back into his apartment, and Fraser followed.  After a couple of tense moments where they stood in the middle of the room and pointedly didn't stare at each other, Ray told Fraser to take off his jacket and have a seat on the couch.  He took the chair across from him so they could maintain a little distance.  "So where do you wanna start?"

Fraser had his cop-face on, as if this was an interview where he had to get information out of a witness who may or may not trust him with the truth.  "Did you know that man?  The one that you killed?"

"No, he said he'd seen me around, but I'd never noticed him before."

Ray must have put more emphasis on 'him' than he meant to because Fraser's next remark was not quite a question.  "But there are others here in Chicago.  You have seen others like him."

Ray nodded slowly, wondering where this was going.  "Yeah.  Why?"

"I'm simply curious.  I'm interested in the entire subject, but mostly your experiences."

"You don't wanna go hunt them down or nothing, do you?  Become like that Van Helsing guy in the movies, stalking graveyards and mausoleums with a bucket of holy water and a big pointy stick ready to wipe us all off the face of the planet?"

"No, Ray, a systematic execution of genocide is not in my plans.  What kind of person do you think I am?" Fraser asked incredulously, and Ray thought there was some amusement lurking in there too, but when he answered he was dead serious.

"A good one, Fraser.  The kind who wants to serve and protect the rest of the good people."

"I think you're a good person, Ray.  Even if you don't often seem to be aware of it."

Ray smiled for the first time all day and shook his head.  "We're not all like the creep up on the roof.  I've met some nice...umm, vampires.  Whoa, that's kinda hard to say out loud without sounding like a complete lunatic."

Fraser seemed to catch himself at the edge of a laugh.  Instead he gave his eyebrow a habitual rub with his thumb and asked, "How long has it been since--  How long have you been a vampire?"

Ray felt a chill walk slowly and precisely up his spine at the casual way Fraser used the very word that gave him so much trouble, but with some effort he shook it off.  "Not long.  A month or so.  The first time I saw you--"  He broke off, appalled at what he was about to reveal--what he *was* revealing.  "I don't really wanna talk about that night."

Fraser nodded and said "I understand" even though he looked just the opposite.  He tilted his head and gave Ray that penetrating look he was so good at.  "Did you choose this life?  Or did somebody do this to you without your consent?"

"So I guess I'll talk about it anyway, huh?"  Ray leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling trying to read some easy answers written across the dull off-white surface.  When nothing appeared, he sighed.  Fraser made it sound like an assault or a rape or something.  "I don't really remember a lot of the details, but I never felt...like I was victimized...you know, *afterward*.  I asked him 'what did you do to me?' but I think I was just freaking out in the stress of the moment.  I accept responsibility for my own part in it.  I let it happen.  Hey, maybe I *asked* for it.  I don't know.  Sometimes I wish I could remember more clearly, but then other times, I think it's best not to remember too much."

"Did you know the person who did it or was he a stranger?"

Ray sat up straight in his chair.  Was that a hint of jealousy in Fraser's voice?  Ray thought he must surely be mistaken--mishearing or misunderstanding what was really there.  "He...he was a stranger, but it was weird--I felt like I knew him when it was done.  His name was Trevor.  I haven't seen him since."

"Did you and he...?"  And just like that, the curious investigator faded away in favor of the man who blushed faintly and stammered when talk turned to sex, so Ray knew what he was getting at, but he didn't say anything right away.  He wanted to see if the brazen 'suck my blood' Fraser would show up too.  "What I mean is...when this...Trevor...did this...took your blood, was it...  Was it a sexual experience?"

"Was it *good* for me?  Judging by the state of my clothes when I got home, I think so, but I told you the memories are a little vague in spots."  Ray looked at Fraser carefully and detected some of that excitement he'd noticed before, on the roof and in his kitchen.  "Does it bother you to be turned on by the bloodsucking thing, Frase?  It gets you all hot and bothered, but it *shouldn't*, is that it?"

"This is not a new occurrence, being attracted to something that might be bad for me.  What comes of it...well, I hope the results won't be the same."

Ray stood up, walked over to the couch, and sat down next to Fraser.  "It doesn't have to be bad for you.  You just have to trust me not to take too much.  Just like you did on the roof."

"About what happened on the roof, Ray, I have a confession to make."  Ray watched Fraser swallow hard and shift his gaze so that it didn't quite meet Ray's anymore, before he said, "I could have carried you."

Ray squinted and tried to catch up with what Fraser was saying, or rather what he was implying.  "You could have..."

"Picked you up, carried you down to the car, and brought you home or taken you to that butcher shop I followed you to one night--I assume that's where you get your blood from?"  He tilted his head questioningly and Ray nodded, taken aback and oddly pleased that Fraser had done the same thing to him that he had done to Fraser.  "No, I offered my blood because I wanted to know what it would feel like... to have someone drink from me."  Fraser finally made direct eye contact as he said very earnestly, "I liked it, and I want to do it again."

"Huh."  Ray's mouth fell open and he started to feel warm all over.  "Well, Fraser, you are just...full of surprises.  You got layers and kinks and...and--" He waved his hand around in search of the right word or phrase, then gave up.  "--and I don't know what all."

Fraser looked down at his hands clenching on his knees and muttered, "I've shocked you, haven't I?"

"Yeah, but I'll live."  Ray started to grin.  "You're a freak like me.  Well, not like me, but just as freaky."

"I'm terribly sorry, Ray.  I shouldn't have presumed--"

"Oh no, no no *no*."  Ray was almost laughing now from sheer relief.  "This is greatness because now I don't have to make my big plea--which would have been pitiful, bordering on pathetic and humiliating-- for you not to reject me because of what I am.  You get it, don't you?  You really *get* it."

"Well, I want to."  Fraser replied with a sly smile, and Ray could see some of his own relief shining back at him.  To finally get a secret desire off your chest and have it accepted as no big deal was a freeing thing, and that's what he could see in Fraser.

"So does that mean you...uh...wanna...?" Embarrassed that now he was the one stammering over the subject, Ray licked his lips, surprised and aroused when Fraser's gaze followed the quick movement of his tongue.

"Yes, I do," Fraser said in a voice just this side of breathless as he leaned forward and met Ray's mouth with his own.

Ray closed his eyes and parted his lips for Fraser's tongue, still slightly stunned at how easy it was to get what he'd wanted so badly and yet had nearly written off as impossible.  But he wasn't going to waste time wondering and worrying at this point.  He had better things to do than think, like pouring every bit of himself into this first slow kiss, like exploring Fraser's mouth and absorbing his taste.  Fifty years from now, providing he was still alive, Ray was certain he'd remember this moment with the perfect photographic clarity that he remembered the other important firsts in his life both good and bad.

When Fraser's hand rose to cup the back of his head, Ray realized that he was holding himself stiffly away from Fraser's body as if he was afraid of being too forward.  He almost laughed at that notion--he could stick his tongue halfway down Fraser's throat, but couldn't wrap his arms around him?  Reaching out slowly, he slid his hands across Fraser's shoulders and cradled his face as he gently sprinkled kisses across his cheek.

Making a gruff sound in the back of his throat, Fraser tilted his head back at an angle, baring one side of his neck in a gesture so trusting and needy that Ray felt his teeth immediately lengthen and sharpen, aching to plunge deep into the pale tender flesh displayed so temptingly.  But he couldn't.  He had to cool it, not get carried away, and above all, make sure he and Fraser were on the same page here.

"Fraser, are you sure about this?  If you just want me to take a drink, I can...you know, without...doing anything else."

Fraser opened his eyes and stared at Ray intently as he said, "Anything, Ray, *everything*.  I want it all."  Then he ran his hands down Ray's torso to the waistband of his pants, slipping his fingers inside to tug at the edge of Ray's shirt.

Ray sucked in his breath and his stomach at the same time, sending Fraser's fingers deeper inside his pants.  "Oh...okay, then...  Uh, maybe we should go...ooh.  Mmm, yeah..." Realizing he was babbling, he gave up on talking and grabbed Fraser's hand, urging him to his feet and leading him to the bedroom.

Somewhere between couch and bed a switch occurred and Ray found himself being pushed down onto his own bed.  His first instinctive response was to push back, shoving Fraser off him so he could be on top, but he resisted.  He'd been on top with Trevor and it hadn't really...well, it *had* been good, but not the kind of experience he wanted to have with Fraser.  He couldn't treat Fraser like he did Trevor, because Fraser wasn't as strong and couldn't recover from that kind of roughness.  And there was that little difference in how he felt about the two men.  Fraser had somehow, in the relatively short time of their acquaintance, become his best friend, while Trevor...  Ray still wasn't sure what Trevor was, besides a ship that passed in the night--or crashed into him.  Whatever, he'd come and gone and, most importantly, had stayed gone.

Fraser would probably come and go too, so Ray had to take full advantage of what time he had with him, and if that meant rolling over and giving up anything Fraser asked for, he'd be glad to do it.  And with that thought in mind, he tilted his head back and arched his body up into Fraser's, their erections meeting through layers of clothing that Ray wished would magically disappear.  Unfortunately, they had to stop and remove them the conventional way, but they kissed and touched the entire time they stripped, so while undressing might have taken longer than usual, it was much more fun.

By the time they were both naked, Ray was so hot he thought he'd explode before they even got to the bloodsucking part.  There was a matching urgency to Fraser's kisses, yet at the same time, he appeared to give every kiss his full, undivided attention, carefully working around the fangs as if he'd been doing it forever.  He seemed to be memorizing Ray's mouth, his taste, his scent, the feel of his body, memorizing all of him as if there might be a test later.  It was incredibly arousing to be the focus of that kind of attention, and Ray felt his hunger growing, burning at the back of his throat and making his cock leak against Fraser's stomach.  And it wasn't just the general need for blood that he woke with each evening, it was a definite need for *Fraser*.  He wanted another taste of him so bad, he could hardly breathe.  But Fraser was holding him down and kissing him with that intense deliberation, and Ray couldn't find the strength to make him stop.

While Fraser moved down Ray's throat and nipped at his collarbone, Ray choked out a moan and then managed to say, "Fraser...please..."

"What do you want, Ray?"  Fraser whispered between nibbles.  "Anything..."

"I wanna suck you, Fraser."  As soon as the words were out, Ray realized how they sounded, but that was okay because he wanted to suck him there too.  However, the blood would have to come first so he could get the fangs under control, otherwise it wouldn't be a fun time for Fraser.

"Yes..." Fraser sighed against Ray's open mouth, flicking his tongue over Ray's fangs while avoiding the sharp points.  "Yes, Ray, do it.  Do it now."  And he turned his head and presented his neck to Ray.

"Okay."  Ray thought hard and fast for a moment and then said, "You'll have to let me up first."

Fraser immediately rolled off him and apologized.  "Oh yes, terribly sorry."

"Nah.  'S okay, just trying to get more comfortable--for both of us."  Sliding one arm under Fraser's shoulders, he took one of Fraser's hands and placed it on the back of his own head.  He smiled in approval as Fraser's fingers instantly threaded into his hair, and said, "Give a sharp pull if you start feeling weak or want me to stop for any reason."

Nodding and closing his eyes, Fraser turned his head toward Ray and settled more comfortably on the pillow.  Swallowing nervously, Ray reminded himself to stay in control and ducked his face into Fraser's neck.  He breathed his fresh scent in deeply and licked at Fraser's smooth throat.  He could feel the pulse beating against his tongue, strong and steady--if just a bit fast--calling to him as surely as the low moan that slipped from Fraser's mouth.  He slowly ran his tongue down the length of Fraser's neck, then at the base he paused, took a deep breath, and sank his teeth in.

Fraser's hips rose off the bed and Ray reached down and took his cock in a firm grip, stroking gently in a rhythm that picked up speed as he lapped up the warm blood streaming from the two small holes in Fraser's neck.  The taste was intoxicating and his head started to spin as Fraser moaned and squirmed beneath him, bucking his hips.  He pushed his erection deeper into Ray's grip, encouraging him to jerk harder and faster, while he humped his own aching, throbbing cock against Fraser's undulating body.

Feeling Fraser start to tense, Ray pressed his closed mouth tight against the tiny wounds and squeezed Fraser's cock.  He was rewarded with a warm gush of come over his fingers that pushed him over the edge.  He thrust hard against Fraser's hip and then froze, as every muscle in his body seemed to clench in pleasure.  Licking Fraser's throat until the bleeding stopped and the holes started to heal, Ray pulled away and brought his sticky hand to his mouth.  As he licked it clean, learning the bittersweet taste of Fraser's come, the man in question watched, his burning gaze locked on every darting movement of Ray's tongue.

When his hand was clean, Ray used it to unclench Fraser's fingers from his hair.  He rubbed the cramps out of them and then laid them gently on Fraser's chest with a grin.  "Feeling okay?"

"Mmm hmm...  Quite so, Ray.  Thank you."

Ray snickered at the drugged sound of Fraser's voice and said, "Are you ever *not* polite?"

"I'm sure there must be some times, but I can't think of any at the moment."  Fraser smiled and blinked lazily.  "I really can't think of much of anything at the moment."

Ray propped himself up on one elbow and looked at Fraser carefully.  The holes in his neck were almost gone, and he was a bit paler than usual, but otherwise his eyes were bright and alert and he looked just fine.   "Are you really okay, Fraser?"

"More than okay.  For the first time in a long time, I feel...wonderful."

The surprise in Fraser's voice sent a little pain through Ray's chest, but he just nodded and said, "Yeah.  You know, uh...you're not what I expected."

Fraser put his hand on Ray's shoulder, running the tips of his fingers over the lines of the tattoo there.  There was something so unbearably sad in his eyes that Ray felt compelled to explain, if not outright apologize.  But first, there was something else he had to know.  "Fraser...I just fucked you--well, sorta--so why am I still calling you by your last name?  That sounds so impersonal when we're both naked."

"Most people here do."  Fraser shrugged as if it made no difference to him. "Ray Vecchio called me Benny a lot, but no one else does."

"Benny?  I don't think so.  Sounds like a--" Because he wanted to be fair to Vecchio, he swallowed back the insult that first sprang to mind and finished, "--a pet name."

"I...I never thought...hmm."  He shook his head and continued to touch Ray, rubbing his arm and shoulder, patting his chest soothingly.  "My friends back home call me Ben."

"I could do that... if it's okay with you?"  He waited until Fraser nodded and smiled, and then said, "Back home, huh?  Do you think about it a lot?  Going back up north?"

"Sometimes I miss it.  It's hard not to.  Things...people are very different here."

"Yeah, I guess they are.  Not many guys like me up there in the Northwest Areas."

"Territories, and there certainly aren't.  If there were, I never would have left."  Fraser gave Ray's arm one last squeeze them moved his hand over his own body, rubbing at the drying spunk on his hip.  He lifted his fingers to his face, but just before he put them in his mouth he looked at Ray in surprise and said, "It's *pink*."

Ray shrugged and said, "Don't ask me.  It's from the blood, I guess."

He could see Fraser digesting that thought with narrowed eyes, turning it over and analyzing it as he licked his fingers and smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.  "Interesting.  There's a more metallic taste than one expects to find in semen.  Higher iron content, I imagine."

"Do I want to ask how much semen you've tasted?"

"Do you want me to ask you the same question?"  Fraser gave him a wide-eyed look that didn't even come close to innocent.

Ray smirked back.  "You get me hot when you talk sassy, Fra-- uh, Ben."

"I noticed...something happening."  Fraser gave Ray's growing erection a playful stroke.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me of something I wanted to do, once I got my regular teeth back."  Ray rolled over and slithered down Fraser's body until he reached his cock.  He blew a stream of air across the head and watched it twitch.  "Uh huh, there's some life down here, all right."

He flicked the tip of his tongue into the slit and was tickled when Fraser made a gurgling sound and grabbed his ears.  He shook the grasping fingers loose and took Fraser's cock between his lips, letting it slide slowly over his tongue while he carefully kept his teeth covered.  No more biting tonight.  No, this was all about sex--plain old human sex.  And it felt so good.  He didn't even worry about losing control--much--because he'd done all right the first time.  Fraser was safe with him, and it seemed as if they both knew it now, where before they'd only been hoping.

Ray tried to shut his brain off and just make Fraser feel good, but he couldn't as his worry suddenly returned full force.  What the hell could Fraser have been thinking to allow Ray to do that?  He'd taken such a huge *dangerous* chance.  Ray could have, he could have, oh man, he could have actually...the impossible-to-articulate thought made his stomach lurch and twist and he had to pull back.  He wrapped his hand around Fraser's slick cock to lessen the shock as he removed his mouth and laid his head on Fraser's thigh.  He breathed deeply for a moment and didn't say anything when Fraser stroked his hair and breathlessly asked what was wrong.  He had no idea what to say, because he wasn't sure he could put a name to the feelings that were darting around inside him at the moment.

This was not like anything he'd ever experienced, not even with Stella, and that thought really weirded him out.  He had to calm down before he had a full-blown panic attack.  This was Fraser, right?  Everything would be okay because it was Fraser--*Ben*, not Stella.  It was Benton Fraser, his partner and friend and now...lover, who made him this crazy with mixed emotions and a desperate longing that could finally be fulfilled...

Ray lifted his head and looked up to see Fraser watching him with soft blue eyes gone dark with lust.  Ray grinned and winked.  "Sorry 'bout that.  I'm good now."  Then he lowered his mouth over Fraser's cock and swallowed.  Fraser's strangled moan made Ray hum with pleasure as he slid his lips up and down the length and fluttered his tongue against the more sensitive head.  He licked and sucked until his jaw ached and he felt Fraser's body starting to tense, his cock swelling, and his balls drawing close to his body.  And then he was catching Fraser's come on his tongue and swallowing the essence down quickly, so that he could move back up and look Fraser in the eyes before he kissed him.

Ray froze with his mouth just a breath away from Fraser's, when he felt as much as heard, "Everything, Ray."

"No."  Ray closed his eyes at the disappointed confusion on Fraser's face and pulled away.  "What I mean is...I don't think it would be a good idea.  I might...there was this one time that I..." He sighed and said very slowly and seriously, "I don't want to hurt you."

"But you want to make love with me," replied Fraser, taking Ray's erection in his hand and squeezing lightly.  "You do *want* to, but you're afraid."

"Hell yes, I'm afraid.  I told you, I don't want to *hurt* you.  I could lose control and bite you again or...or get too rough or--"

Fraser interrupted him with a firm shake of his head and said, "No, Ray, you won't.  It's not in your nature."  And then Fraser spread his legs wide and tugged Ray between them.  "Now, Ray.  You can do it.  It'll be just fine."

Even though Fraser was right about what he wanted, Ray tried to resist one more time.  "Fr--Ben, please..."

"You can do it, Ray."  Fraser stared at him so intently that Ray wondered if he knew that compulsion trick of Trevor's.  It would irritate him to no end if Fraser could do it and he couldn't, and that was what it seemed like when Fraser said, "I know you can.  Do it."

Ray couldn't look away from Fraser, but he reached out and fumbled in the bedside table until he came up with a squeeze bottle that he took on faith was lube.  The cool gel on his fingertips reassured him and he applied it liberally to both himself and Fraser by feel alone.

When Fraser lifted his hips and said, "That's enough, Ray.  I'm ready," Ray finally looked down at his hand guiding his cock slowly into Fraser's ass.  Seeing part of him disappear into Fraser was the most amazing thing, and then Fraser grabbed his hips and pulled hard.  He barely got his hand out of the way before he slammed into Fraser's body, and it was so tight--virginally tight--and hot, an inferno that was burning him up and he never wanted to leave...ever.  He thought he could die happy and complete right here in Fraser's grip, and then the urge to move came over him.  He pulled almost out and then pushed back, and again and again, pumping like the pistons of a well-tuned engine.  Fraser met every thrust with equal force until Ray had to dizzily wonder just who was getting fucked here.  And then he couldn't think at all, he could only move and breathe and *feel*, until he was overwhelmed by a sweeping orgasm that left him shattered and gasping for breath against Fraser's chest with strong arms wrapped tightly around him.

After a few recuperative moments, Ray raised his head slightly and said, "Don't you dare say 'I told you so', Ben."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Ray," replied Fraser with a satisfied smile.

"Okay then, just so you know..." Ray forgot what he was going to say as yawning became more important than talking.  Just as sleep crept over him, he noticed that Fraser was still holding him tightly.

***
 

Sitting at the table after a brief trip to the all-night market, Ray sipped from his mug and watched Fraser eat a sandwich.  He felt a brief flash of envy that he washed away with a mouthful of warm blood before asking, "Have you ever loved someone so much that you couldn't even think about it?  It was so big that when the other person left you were completely empty?"

"I thought I did."  Fraser met his gaze levelly and added, "But I realized later that I wasn't as empty as I thought."

"Well, I was.  I knew it and I don't ever want to feel like that again, Fraser.  I don't think I could handle it."

Fraser sipped at his milk and then set it down next to his plate.  He looked at Ray as if he understood what he was saying, but just had to argue it anyway.  "Why are you so certain that loving someone leads to being hurt?"

"Doesn't it?  Hasn't that been your experience?"

"Yes."  Fraser turned his head away, looking toward the windows, as if he wanted to remove himself from the memories but couldn't quite do it.  "Yes, it has."

"Look...I'm sorry."  That sounded so lame, and Ray wanted to smack himself for being insensitive, but just because the truth hurt sometimes didn't mean they didn't have to face it.

Fraser surprised him by turning back with determination radiating in a nice little I'm- gonna-get-my-way-about-this wave that put Ray's back up out of habit if nothing else.  "But I'm not convinced of either the futility of love or the inevitability of pain.  I have to think--*believe*-- that it doesn't always end badly."

"Yeah?  Well, you're either a fool or the most optimistic person I've ever met," Ray snapped, uncaring whether he was being fair or not.

"It's not foolish."  Fraser gave him a frustrated frown and insisted, "Millions of people love and *fall in love* without getting hurt."

"And millions get their hearts ripped out and handed back to them."  Ray was feeling plenty frustrated too, but he didn't know if it was more with Fraser or himself.  Just who was he trying convince here anyway?

"Yes, but you don't have to *assume* you'll be one of them."  Fraser took Ray's hand from the tabletop and held it tightly.  "Can you trust me enough to believe you won't be?"

Ray snorted, but he didn't pull away, instead he squeezed Fraser's fingers back just as tightly.  "Trust you?  I don't even trust *myself* most of the time."

Fraser looked him in the eye, almost pleadingly, as he asked, "Will you at least give it a try?"

"I'm not sure I know how."  Ray covered the lower part of his face with his free hand and looked at Fraser over his fingers for a very long moment, shuffling and reshuffling all the stuff he'd been through lately and thought about what a remarkable man Benton Fraser was turning out to be.  That first impression of him had gotten Ray's attention, but hadn't even hinted at the depths under the red serge.  He was very glad that he'd gotten a glimpse of the real man behind the facade, and he was even more glad that Fraser seemed to accept the real him, all of him-- the cop, the vampire, the man.  He moved his hand from his face to Fraser's, touching his cheek as he said, "So this trust thing...can you teach me?"

Fraser smiled.  "It would be my pleasure, Ray."
 

The End.

Back to Due South Fic