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Title: Ray's Memory, Part 2/2
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: PG
Word count: 2,534
Summary: Ray regains his memory.
Notes: Since y'all didn't seem confident that Part 1 was a happy ending...

Beta'd by china_shop. Thank you for helping me knock this into shape!
Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me and I am not making any money off this.

Part One

###

"I love you," Fraser said.

Ray stared at him, trying to remember what Fraser had said before that. How the hell had he managed to space out during what was--if the taut, unhappy look on Benny's face was anything to go by--a really important conversation? He didn't even remember how he'd got to Fraser's apartment.

"I love you too, Benny," he said hastily. Ray'd been in enough relationships to know that could cover a hell of a lot of sins.

Fraser's face lit up like Christmas. "Ray!"

It was as if his brain was a fuzzy TV, and Fraser saying his name was a whack on the side of his head. He still couldn't remember what they'd been talking about, but everything before that snapped back into focus, and---wait a second, he and Fraser weren't in a relationship! "What the hell did you just say, Benny?" He replayed the last few seconds again. "What the hell did I just say?"

Fraser's happy eyes turned watchful, and his hands, which were clasped on top of the table, tightened on each other. Ray tried even harder to remember the beginning of their conversation. The last day and a half was starting to come back to him now, in dribs and drabs--he'd lost his memory, just like Benny that one time. Jeez, it was gonna be Dief next. Ray wasn't sure how they'd be able to tell, but Benny would know. And if he had to chauffeur the two of them around the city while Fraser said crap like And this is where you had your first donut, Diefenbaker. Perhaps you'll remember how often I've spoken to you about the effects of refined sugar on a wolf's metabolism, he was gonna--

"I told you how I felt about you," Fraser said in his most determinedly calm voice, and the last five minutes were suddenly there, crystal clear.

However you choose to interpret it, and whether or not you choose to admit to remembering it later, the truth--my deepest truth--is that I love you.

Could he really have that right? Or was his brain still playing tricks on him? "Fraser," he said at last, cautiously, "when you said 'however I choose to interpret it,' did you mean...?"

Fraser leaned forward in his chair, his clasped hands sliding towards Ray. "Yes."

Hope fizzed up in Ray's chest like Coke in a shaken bottle, but suddenly he was pissed, too. "Real helpful," he said. "So I'm guessing this means you remember what happened when you had amnesia, huh?"

Fraser flushed. "Yes, Ray."

"Jesus, Fraser! I told you that alone, we're incomplete! I told you you looked good in your uniform! Did this seem ambiguous to you? Because I thought it was the fruitiest stuff I'd ever said in my life, and then you made me think I was gonna have to work up the nerve to say it all over again! What were you waiting for, a proclamation from the Queen?"

Fraser didn't say anything. God, he looked like shit. How had Ray not noticed? But he guessed if he didn't know Benny's face like the back of his hand, he wouldn't be able to tell. Which was exactly what had happened.

Ray'd spent pretty much the entire time he'd lost his memory--when he wasn't freaking out --trying to figure out what the hell was going on between him and the Mountie. Were they involved, or what? It'd taken him about five seconds to realize that he had a thing for the guy, but he hadn't been able to read Fraser at all. About anything.

This was weird, remembering not remembering. He hadn't known Fraser anymore, he hadn't known what tells to look for, so he hadn't noticed any of the right things and even now he couldn't piece together how Fraser had reacted to his amnesia. Although there was one thing--

"Fraser, how come when I said your name that first time you looked at me like I'd punched you in the face?" He narrowed his eyes and watched Fraser closely, trying to make up for lost time. The guy still looked relieved, but he looked wiped out, too. Tired, pale, and hungry, in a way that made Ray want to sit him down and force-feed him lasagna. Which was ridiculous, because Ray's brush with amnesia could not possibly have cost Benny more than one night's sleep and maybe a skipped dinner.

But what was plain as day was that Fraser didn't want to talk about it. "Let me make you some tea," he said, standing up and going to the stove so Ray couldn't see his face. "Mrs. Chen in apartment 507 gave it to me; it's supposed to be good for the memory."

"I don't drink tea," Ray said, exasperated. "You know that."

"You drink tea at Chinese restaurants, Ray," Fraser pointed out, filling the kettle and ignoring Ray's opinion like he always did. "And this is Chinese tea. In fact, it's very similar to--"

"Fraser, I don't care about the tea! Tell me what I did."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ray." Fraser measured out the loose tea into some special Canadian tea-making gadget. Was Ray imagining it, or were his hands shaking? "Are you certain you're remembering correctly? When I had my own bout of amnesia, for months afterwards I remained convinced that I'd been talking to my father's ghost. Which I'm sure you'll agree is extremely unlikely, and--"

Ray stood up and went to lean against the counter, so he could see Fraser's face again. "Fraser," he said warningly.

Fraser must have really been thrown off his game by the last day and a half, because he actually stopped, setting the tea mug gently down and then setting his hands lightly on the counter to either side of it. Maybe the shaking wasn't Ray's imagination after all. "I'd rather not say, Ray."

"Yeah, I know that, Benny." Turning towards Fraser, Ray slouched farther down and leaned on the counter, sliding his arm forward until his fingertips were half an inch from Fraser's hand. Just letting him know the physical comfort option was open if Fraser wanted it. "Tell me anyway," he said.

To his amazement, that worked. Fraser looked at their hands, and then at Ray. His mouth did this funny, soft little twist, and he nodded. "You--well, you mispronounce my name. It's not 'Frasier,' it's 'Fraser.' And that time you pronounced it correctly."

If ears could blink, Ray's would have. "Wait, what's the difference?"

Fraser repeated himself. Oh. Shit.

"I been saying your name wrong for four years?" He pushed off the counter, throwing his hands in the air. "Jesus, Fraser--I mean, 'Fraser'--oh, hell! Why didn't you tell me? There's polite and then there's masochistic, and you--"

Fraser laughed, a note of hysteria in the sound. "I don't want you to stop," he said, and then he started crying.

Fraser was crying.

He didn't cover his face or make embarrassing noises like a normal person. No, he tucked his head down and folded his arms, and didn't make a sound except for his shuddering breaths. Like maybe he didn't expect anyone to look close enough to notice.

It wasn't like it was the first time Ray'd seen one of his friends cry. And everyone knew when your friend cried, even if it was at his mother's funeral, you kinda looked the other way and waited for him to stop, and then you acted like it hadn't happened. Girls thought it was some dumb macho thing, but it wasn't. That was how you supported your friends. You let them pretend to be strong.

Fraser did way too much pretending to be strong, and Ray couldn't have looked away if he'd tried. Not when he'd pushed and pulled and done everything but beg for Fraser to even admit he had feelings, and now Fraser had actually lost control of his face. And if Benny's face was expressive when he was doing Perfect Impassive Mountie, when he was crying it was a whole damn novel, one of the long Russian ones Ray had never bothered to get all the way through in English class. It got right inside Ray and made him want to make Fraser feel better more than he'd ever wanted anything. "Hey," he said, putting an arm around Fraser's shaking shoulders and squeezing. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay, I promise. I--uh, I'll keep mispronouncing your name?"

Fraser turned under Ray's arm so he was hiding his face in Ray's shoulder, his hands coming up to grip Ray's jacket awkwardly. "I'm very sorry, Ray," he said, clearly still trying to talk in his regular Mountie voice, which Ray hoped he'd gotten the extended warranty on because it sounded broken. "Your absence was--that is, relief seems to have made me lightheaded, and I--"

"Fraser, you don't gotta be sorry," Ray tried to explain. "People cry. I mean, maybe you don't, but other people--"

"I cry," Fraser said. "But I generally try to do it when no one will be--when I won't--"

"When you won't what? Inconvenience anyone?" Ray demanded. "Jesus, Benny." He wrapped his other arm tight around Fraser too. He didn't have the nerve to kiss the top of Fraser's head, but he did tilt his head so that his mouth and chin were buried in Fraser's hair. "People like to be inconvenienced," he murmured to Fraser's scalp. "People like to feel needed. How do you not know that?"

Fraser sniffled. "Well, I suppose I do know it intellectually," he said, his voice sounding a little steadier. "Why do you think I've borrowed so much money from you over the years?"

Ray's eyebrows shot up. "Are you saying that making me the official sponsor of every charity case in Chicago was your wacky Canadian way of flirting with me?"

"Maybe," Fraser said, his damp smile curving against Ray's neck. "Nevertheless, when it comes to heavier burdens, I--" He sighed.

"Yeah, I know," Ray said. "You still think if you can't light the fire you're gonna get left in the woods." Ray really didn't like Fraser's dad. Sure, all little kids were afraid of being left alone in the dark. But for most kids, the dark just meant their bedroom. For Benny it meant the entire Canadian wilderness.

Fraser stilled. "Perhaps," he said, sounding startled.

"I ain't gonna leave you, Benny," Ray said. "How do you not know that by now? I ever once turn my back on you, no matter what you did to make me?"

"No, Ray," Fraser said, and stepped back. His face was flushed and streaked with snot and tears, and his eyes were red and swollen.

"You missed me that much, huh?" Ray could feel himself grinning. Yeah, he was a terrible friend.

"I think I ruined your suit," Fraser said, like he figured that could distract Ray from pretty much anything.

Ray twisted his head around to look. He sighed. He'd seen his nieces and nephews bawl on enough clothes to know that salt didn't come out of silk. "I'm used to it," he said. "Wipe your nose so I can kiss you."

Fraser started to smile. "Actually, Ray, the Inuit believe that what they call--well, 'salty kisses' would be the closest translation--are a sign of good luck. Of course, salt is a far more precious substance in the Arctic than it is in Chicago--" He was pulling out that tablecloth-sized handkerchief of his, but suddenly Ray couldn't wait that long.

"Salty kisses, huh?" he said, and tugged Fraser to him by his Sam Browne belt. Fraser made a little noise of surprise, like mmpf and ohhh combined, and then his hands were pulling Ray tight against him and his tongue was conducting a full-scale investigation of Ray's mouth. And yeah, the snot factor was a little gross, but considering the number of times he'd had to talk himself down from planting one on Fraser after he'd just licked something way more disgusting, Ray sure as hell wasn't complaining.

It wasn't the first time he'd had his hands on Fraser's arms, or his back, or his shoulders, or even his chest. They were always touching, because Ray couldn't help himself--and maybe, he realized now, Fraser couldn't either. But somehow it was completely different to feel Fraser under his hands now, to know that Fraser wanted his hands there, that the heat and the tension he felt was for him. To know that he didn't have to hide his shaky breathing and Fraser could let his pulse spiral out of control--God, if they were hooked up to a bomb right now they'd be screwed.

And it was completely different, too, when Fraser spread his big Canadian hands across Ray's shoulder blades and just left them there, like all he wanted was to hold Ray--but when Ray sucked on his tongue Fraser groaned and pressed harder. That row of shiny brass buttons dug into Ray's chest, which was exactly as annoying and erotic as Ray had always thought it would be--

Fraser's kettle started up the most earsplitting whistle Ray had ever heard. They both jumped, breaking the kiss.

"Sorry, Ray," Fraser said breathlessly, moving the kettle off the heat. "Tea?"

The sudden loss of contact left Ray feeling shy and out of his depth. "No thanks," he said. Then he thought of something. "Fraser, isn't the Arctic kind of by an ocean?"

"Yes, Ray?" Fraser said, raising his eyebrows. "The Arctic Ocean, and then there's the Beaufort Sea, of course. Although technically I suppose that is considered part of--"

"So salt would kind of not be hard to come by."

Fraser's eyes widened. "Er..."

"You made that Inuit story up!" Ray said, poking Fraser in the chest. "I bet you make 'em all up! You're a terrible Mountie!"

Fraser pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. "Well, not all of them, Ray."

Ray laughed. "I'm glad you finally decided to be honest with me." His grin faded. "So...exactly how honest were you planning on getting tonight?" He walked his fingers up Fraser's chest to the neck of his tunic, and tugged a little.

Fraser swallowed, his throat moving under Ray's fingers. "I hope that complete mutual honesty will be the hallmark of all our future relations, Ray." He hooked his hand over Ray's and pulled open the Velcro of his collar.

For a second Ray thought he'd lost his memory again. It wasn't like he could even see one inch of Fraser he couldn't before--the strip of Velcro was too long and the button under it was too high--but there was nothing left in his brain except that little shrip sound and Fraser said I could take his clothes off.

"I gotta be honest with you, Fraser," Ray said, thumbing open his own top button and watching Fraser's gaze sharpen to a knifepoint. "You have come up with some really dumb plans while we've been partners. But I think this one makes up for all of them."