Satyricon au go go

No infringement of the following characters and situations is intended.
Warning: Rated [MA] Mature Adults only. Contains strong m/m sexual scenes, violence, coarse language and adult themes.

More harmless pirated fun. No harm intended.

Rated R - m/f, m/m sex, some violence, some strong language.

Summary: Immortals, Mounties, FBI Agents, oh my.

For everyone who wanted a part 2.

And for the guys and gals on Due South and Forever Knight. Miss you!

c 1994-1996

Purity Control 2: Immortal Beloved

He sat hunched over his 8th straight bourbon, hoping the alcohol would dull his screaming mind, but it had yet to work its magic upon him.

His 15th day of freedom. And still he was checking over his shoulder.

His plan to lose himself in the cities had been a good one. So much harder to find one man amongst millions than thousands. His first thought had been New York, but something painful grabbed at his chest when he thought of the eastern cities. So he had turned his attention west. Chicago, something about Chicago in his memory, he couldn't place what, but it was a feeling of sanctuary, and that was good enough.

Someone pushed some money into the jukebox. The lever arm rose up, plucked up a plate of black vinyl and dropped it unceremoniously onto the turntable, where another needle pointed arm stabbed into its groove.

The scratchy sounds of the moody blues welled up from the juke box.

The glass in his hand shattered, slicing open his palm.

He felt an oddly familiar pricking at the hairs on the base of his neck and turned, pressing his hand against the bar, the cut upon his palm now completely healed.

He left the bar to walk in the cold air. He felt another pull at his nervous system and pressed against the wall, his near freezing breath fogging the window pane slightly. He inched along until he saw him, the darkened shape of a man framed in the alley way, mysterious and sombre. An unearthly mist crept around their feet, thickening, as though the atmosphere inverted with the approach of such opposite poles. even the sky above seemed to cloud, the cold blue white light of the street light casting an ethereal glow upon the coldly, silent scene. The stranger drew a sword from his overcoat and marched towards him with measured. deliberate steps, assuming a fighting stance with a feline grace.

"I am Liam, of the Fianna," he announced, holding his sword aloft.

His opposition smiled lopsidedly, shaking his head.

"That means nothing to me, " he shrugged, producing his own weapon, a 19th century officers sword, taken from his first kill, who' had seemed not to take to kindly to being garrotted then decapitated with a piano wire, or being beaten senseless with a length of steel pipe.

He grinned again as his sword caught the light. These guys played by the rules, he never did (and as far as he could remember, which was precious little, he never had).

"I have challenged you," this opponent reminded.

"So you did, " he answered affably. He lifted and swung his sword, flinging himself forward with an inhuman fury, spinning his opponent fatally off balance.

White light arched through the swirling mists, circling him, surrounding him, penetrating him with the greatest rush he had ever known. Better than sex, he thought, throwing back his head and howling at the moon as the energy surged through him.

~~

The shadowy figure leant forward angrily, his exhaled smoke obscuring his features, like some dragon or mage, Alex thought miserably.

"What do you mean, they lost him? When? How?"

"He overpowered his guards and somehow managed to breach the security system. It's reported that he made it out with six bullets in his back, Sir. The project unit believed the situation could be contained, they sent out a patrol..."

"But they lost him."

"Yes, Sir." he sighed, wondering if this particular messenger would get shot, seriously believing it was a definite possibility, gauging the mood of the man he was reporting to, knowing what little he did know about the man.

The red tip of his cigarette glowed in the gloom of the non smoking office (you'd think the Federal Government would spring for some of those halogen bulbs).

"Well, this is just great. Do you have any idea of what we just set loose on the streets? Alert New York and Jersey. He had a history there, and may return there, to a place of perceived security. And get me Skinner on the line."

"Skinner, Sir?"

Another cloud of smoke obscured his weary features.

"We have a problem, a Federal problem, and I think Skinner's pet is the perfect, expendable agent to send on the case, don't you?"

~~

Mulder looked up from the high powered lens, unable to believe his eyes, unable to believe he really saw who he thought he saw.

He straightened, affecting a casual air.

"I'm going out for a coke. You want anything Scully?" he offered.

She shook her head boredly, not really paying attention, not even listening to the conversation that was coming across the microphone, not even bothering to listen. Not even noticing the two full cans of coke that sat by Mulder's chair.

Mulder ducked out of the building, sighted his quarry and began his pursuit. He saw the blonde head disappear around a corner, and quickened his step to catch up. He rounded the corner, and was grabbed suddenly and thrust up against the wall.

"You." She announced bitterly." Since when have you taken up stalking women. "

"I saw you, across the street, " he began.

"You were spying? Friends do not spy on each other, " she accused.

"Well maybe you'd like to explain to me what exactly you're doing here, talking to a man we have under observation as a suspect in serial murder investigation?" demanded Mulder recovering.

"Duncan? Don't be ridiculous, " she replied without missing a beat.

"Duncan , is it. " Mulder seized on her familiarity with the name.

"Knock it off. That jealous boyfriend routine is real old, Mulder, especially coming from you."

She might as well have slapped him, her words striking their target with cold efficiency.

"He's on old family friend, " she brushed him off. "And he happens to be helping me with my enquires. A bronze age sword was stolen from the British Museum. I have reason to believe that it was smuggled into this country. Duncan used to be an antique dealer, he still collects weaponry privately. I was just asking him to keep his ears open. Satisfied." She drew back a little, observing his expression.

Mulder nodded, giving in to her logic. "I didn't think the theft of antiquities was of much interest to Scotland Yard. "

"This antiquity was, to this officer."

"I see. Why?"

"There are, legends. I believe someone may be after the sword for more than its historical, monetary or aesthetic value."

Anyone else would have told her she was nuts, that she was speaking crap. But not Mulder. He knew just enough, seen just enough, to believe her."

"Any leads?" he asked, trying to be helpful.

She bit her lip, glancing away. "Just one. One main suspect. He's done it before. He'll do it again. I don't know what I'm going to do if I actually catch up with him. Ask him to hand it back nicely?"

Understanding lightened in Mulder's eyes.

"It's John, isn't it. Well, you used to have the knack of wrapping him around your finger." he observed, with just a hint of jealously, a pinch of bitterness.

"That was a long time ago, " she reminded.

"I thought you didn't see John anymore." he accused, still that hurt, possessive tone in his voice. That she was in the country and hadn't called, it cut him more than he cared to acknowledge.

"In my line of work, its hard to avoid him. He either knows something. Wants to know something, and is usually up to his eyeballs in it. Its rare when our paths don't cross at least once a year."

"I see." He answered, clearly unimpressed. He knew John, and his methods of operation, all too well.

Their eyes locked. They were so close, pressed up against the wall. Locked away passions lurched unsteadily to the surface. He swung her to the wall, huis turn now, pressing his mouth to hers, pushing his tongue deep within, grinding his hips against hers.

"Mulder?" he heard Scully's voice float around the corner. They released each other breathlessly. He looked around, and felt her tear herself from his grasp. When he glanced back, she was gone, vanished into nothingness.

"Mulder, what is going on?" demanded Scully, wondering why she had found her partner standing alone and disorientated in a Seattle side lane, shirt dishevelled and tie awry, with no sign of the coke he said he had stepped out for.

"Thought I saw someone I knew, " Mulder shrugged sheepishly.

Scully just gave him that superior 'you've been chasing your own shadow' look , turning on her heel to return to their observation.

~~

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

"Anew, Ray, or is this the same sin as before. I have forgiven you. God has forgiven you. You must forgive yourself. Shooting Ben was an accident -"

"I was shooting to kill, Father. " Ray reiterated. "I drew my gun and I was going to kill her. Sometimes I feel that if I saw her on the streets again, I'd kill her. That if I found out where she was, I'd kill her. Can I really be that jealous, Father?"

"Only you can look into your heart and know the answer to that, Ray." Behan sighed.

"She really did hurt the both of you, didn't she?" he added, softly, almost to himself. He'd known a girl like that in Belfast once, vicious and hard, life had made her that way. She, too, had led good men to their destruction, like the fabled Beann-sidhe.

"You did what you thought you had to do. She was a criminal, fleeing justice. You did your duty."

"I was shooting to kill, " Ray repeated, mournfully.

~~

Skinner scowled at the phone, disliking the interference in his section and personnel intensely. This was another rotten one, he knew it. Another clean up, cover up, another opportunity to send a man he begrudgingly respected to his possible death. Sometimes this desk job was worse than combat in Vietnam. Further, Mulder was already on a case, trailing a serial killer or killers who had last struck in Seattle. Similar cases had been reported more and more frequently, in every city across the globe, in a definite escalation of incidents. Mulder thought he was on the trail of a bizarre head hunting cult, and for once, Skinner thought he had been right. He'd had no qualms about letting Mulder have this one, this case was, after all, right up his alley of expertise. Mulder had come to him with his files, the most enthusiastic Skinner had seen him in months (the murder of Mulder's father, though they had been estranged, had taken a particular toll on the son, particularly as his father's killer had disappeared into the night again).

He hated to do this to Mulder, but he had no choice. He had his orders, afterall. Besides, the Atlantic City PD had reported two more decapitation murders in the last week. Perhaps Mulder could still keep tabs on his original case.

Just as he reached for the phone, it rang again. He placed the receiver to his ear, listening. Another series of murders, this time in the mid west. He replaced the phone on its cradle. Damn his orders. This was getting out of hand. They couldn't keep it out of the press much longer. He'd send Mulder to Chicago. His superiors could send their own goon squad to clean up their little mistake.

~~

"I want to make him pay for what he did to me, father. I want to hurt him as badly as he hurt me." "Ben, you can't..." "Can't I?' If Father Behan could have seen the cold fury in those blue eyes, he would have crossed himself. "An eye for an eye, Father. Isn't that how it goes." "We teach forgiveness." "And how very forgiving of you in Belfast." Fraser spat back, cutting the Father to the bone. So he knew. It was no matter now. "I've repented for my sins, Ben. But I fear you do not want to repent for your feelings of revenge towards Ray." "No, father. I want him to pay." "Please don't do this, " Behan begged.

The anger in the voice was as unmistakable as it was unthinkable. "I told him I forgave him father, but I lied. I can never forgive him. I hate him for what he did to me. I hate him and I want to see him pay." "Ben, you must find it your heart to forgive him. It was an accident after all..." "Was it?" snarled the voice on the other side of the screen. "Of course it was. " "Why, what has he told you?" "Now, Ben, you know I can't tell you that." He sighed. "Ben, Ray never meant to shoot you. He loves you deeply, and is very troubled by it. Perhaps he is aware of your anger. You have to work this out." "Why? The church doesn't approve of us -" "Nor does it approve of unforgiveness or revenge. Ray is truly sorry. You must find it in your heart to forgive him. "Ben?" he asked, finding the confessional deserted. He emerged from his own cubicle, but the angry young man was nowhere to be seen. Such a rage, so barely under control, he was worried for Ray, but the sanctity of the confession bound him to silence. Fraser strode stiffly down the street, almost inhuman rage boiling over. "This is wrong, son." his father spoke to him quietly. Ben ignored the annoying vision and walked. "He's your friend, " he father continued, following him as much as a full moon follows a speeding car. "Leave me the hell alone!" Ben snarled to empty air, to the consternation of passersby, and walked on, not looking up, not wanting to see the sadness in his father's eyes. Ben sat in the coffee shop, his preternatural rage having evaporated as quickly as it had boiled, so quickly he barely remembered it. He only remembered a burning aching need to see Ray.

He studied his coffee detachedly. Was he truly going mad, he wondered. Was it right, the way his rage boiled over, the look of fear he sometimes caught in Ray's eyes, the bruises he found on his lover's skin, the nights he couldn't remember. Was the wind blowing north by northwest?

~~

Ray's elder sister looked Fraser up and down, considering whether or not to call Francesca, but then decided to give the poor guy a break.

"Nah, Ray isn't here. Didn't he tell you? There's only one place he goes this day of the year."

Ray finally let the white roses drop from his hand onto the slightly damp earth, their broken petals brushing against the cold, glassy granite headstone.

"Bye, Terri," he sighed, sadly, then looked up to see a solemn uniformed figure waiting, no, make that standing to attention, near his car, white wolf at his feet. Ray bowed his head and slid his hands in his pockets. He wasn't ready for this.

"Look, Fraser," Ray started in, not giving his friend the opportunity to speak. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'd really just rather be alone right now."

Fraser did his best to conceal his disappointment.

"Its okay, Ray. I understand." he agreed, stoically.

That damned look again. If it wasn't him, it was the wolf.

"Look, the least I can do is give you a lift home. Hop in."

"Thank you kindly," smiled Fraser wanly.

Fraser shut the door on his empty apartment, or rather, glorified bedsit. It was still Spartan, but beginning to show evidence of Ray's frequent habitation; the old couch, the small colour TV with its silver bunny ears in the corner, and the doublebed which had taxed even Fraser's good nature when they'd tried to drag it up the stairs.

He hung his coat up, put down some food for Dief, and, picking up a half read hardcover from the table, lay down on the couch to read, boots hanging over the worn chair arm.

Ray sat in his car for a long time, staring up at the light in Fraser's room. The he noticed the small crisp white envelope propped up on his dashboard.

Curious, he reached over and flipped it open. It was an invitation, on real quality paper. Fraser was inviting him to a consular do, as his guest.

Fraser was just staring Ray looked absolutely stunning in his dinner suit.

Ray shrugged.

"Well, what better day for coming out than the anniversary of my wife's death."

"Coming out ?" Fraser cocked his head sideways.

"You know, going out in public, boyfriend and boyfriend."

"I thought we did that already," replied Fraser seriously and confused.

"Yeah, but not on an official date kind of date. Not like this."

"I can always tell them I couldn't get a date, and you agreed to come along rather than waste a good ticket."

"Yeah, right, Benny. Like you haven't got women queuing up around the block."

Fraser smiled, beautifully.

"I don't want them. I want you." He leant forward and, cupping Ray's face gently in his hands, kissed him. Ray's arms snaked around his lover's hips.

"Don't start that, or we'll never get there," Ray sighed.

~~

Benton's superior grabbed him by one elbow and propelled him over to a quiet corner.

"I told you to bring a date, Constable."

"I did."

"Not him"

Fraser's eyes hardened. "Tonight is the anniversary of his wife's death , Sir. I did not want my friend spending the night alone in a room with a loaded gun."

"So you brought him here. Very thoughtful, Constable," sneered his superior, not bothering to conceal her sarcasm.

Ray joined Fraser, who was standing alone, staring out of the huge picture windows of the function room out across the city.

"You hate these things, don't you?" Ray tried to start a conversation.

Fraser didn't answer.

"What is it, Ben?"

"I saw lightning, over there," he pointed.

"Yeah, well," shrugged Ray. This wasn't exactly the conversational opener he'd expected.

"Ray, its a clear night," Fraser patiently explained. "And it seemed to come up from the ground."

"Probably a cat frying on a generator," Ray decided. "You're going to miss the speeches."

"mm, " replied Fraser, still deep in thought.

"Can we still get to your office?"

"Why?"

"We can skip these speeches. I thought we could go down to your office, and then I could take you on your desk."

"No."

"No?"

"I'm still on duty."

"Okay. How about when you get off duty?"

Fraser's enigmatic silence was his only reply.

~~

Ray's hand slid through Fraser's short, dark hair as his tongue probed the familiar warm depths of his mouth. Ray pressed himself up against Fraser, who sat perched against his desk, hands around Ray's waist, pulling free his shirt. Fraser's dress coat hung open, Ray could feel the hard skin underneath Ben's under shirt. They kissed, slowly, by the soft yellow light of the desk lamp.

The door suddenly swung open; Fraser tried to jump to attention, with Ray still twined around him.

Fraser's superior was lost for words. This was not quite the scenario he had expected, not with the number of women that had been following the handsome young Mountie's every movement during the evening.

"You're out of uniform, Constable," she growled at last.

"I'm off duty, Sir," Fraser replied.

His superior glared at them both.

"I'd appreciate it if this didn't leave this room, " Fraser requested.

"Only out of respect to your father's memory. He was a good man." the superior snarled, and closed the door curtly on her way out.

Ray began tucking his shirt back in.

"Are you in trouble?" he asked.

"Yes," Ben replied, wistfully.

"Big Trouble?"

"I believe so."

"I'm sorry. See - this is what happens - I'm always getting you into trouble - "

"Ray, " Fraser cut him off. His silent look spoke more to Ray than words ever could.

Sweetly, Ray began to rebutton Fraser's coat, like a mother adjusting the buttons on a small child.

As they crossed the sidewalk to the Riveriera, Ray slid his arm around Fraser's waist.

"As a first formal date, it wasn't bad, " he surmised.

~~

Ray pulled the car over, and switched off the engine.

Fraser surveyed the surroundings patiently for a moment.

"Ray, why did we stop here?"

Ray fished around in his garbage crammed glove box for something, found it, extracted it, and started to get out of the Riveriera.

"Something I have to do," he mumbled. He paused, looking down at the sidewalk sadly for a moment, then began to tape something to a nearby street light post.

It was a single white rose.

"This is where it happened, isn't it, " asked Fraser, behind him.

"Yep. " Ray agreed. "Hit and run. Drunk driver, from the way the wheels skidded, so the report said. Probably didn't see her - " he glanced up at the perfectly functioning street light.

"You don't believe it was an accident?"

"I don't know what to believe. Terri's family was connected, you know? And I was a cop. The whole Romeo and Juliet thing. I busted her brother. I guess there was only one way it could have ended."

Fraser rested his hand on Ray's shoulder, and Ray appreciated the gesture, more than Fraser could imagine.

"Its a white rose, " Fraser observed.

"Yeah. I think Terri would understand, its time to move on. I think she'd have liked you, I really do," he smiled a little.

Ray turned back to Benny, a yearning emptiness, and a hunger to fill it, in his eyes. His hand slid across Ben's collar, up his throat and across his cheek."

"When I get you home, I'm going to bite those buttons off, one by one, " he promised.

"You will not," panicked Fraser. His dress uniform was sacrosanct.

Fraser suddenly tilted his head, sniffing the air.

"What?" asked Ray, unable to hide his exasperation.

"Death," Fraser replied sternly, and began striding up the laneway.

Louis sniggered at the sight of Ray in his best suit.

"Hey, Vecchio, who's funeral?" he taunted, with Huey stabbing an elbow into his ribs instantly and so sharply he nearly broke one.

"Hey - " Louis started, before realising, prompted by his partner's stern expression.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, Vecchio, " he shrugged.

Fraser emerged from the homicide circus in the alleyway, still impeccably attired.

"So what is this - you guys on a date?" sneered Louis.

"Well, as a matter of fact, " Ray began to shoot back.

"Ray was giving me a lift home. " Fraser interjected.

"Aw, how sweet. Ray didn't want Benny walking the streets alone at night." Louis teased, without realising he had nailed the truth on the head.

~~

Ray threw Fraser's keys down on the table, walked over to the bed and flopped down on it, covering his eyes with his forearm. He was tired; he wanted to sleep. Not so Fraser. Ben was full of beans. He wanted sex. Sex with Ray. Tonight. Right now.

It never ceased to amaze Ray how quickly Benny could shuck his way out of uniform, leaving bits and pieces draped over the backs of chairs; he slid onto and across the bed to Ray, completely naked and smiling playfully. He rose up and knelt beside his lover, reaching up to pull away his tie and release the first few buttons on his shirt. Softly, he rubbed his cheek against the dark hairs on Ray's chest, his warm breath brushing softly against the skin. Ray felt the tickle of Ben's eyelashes stroke across his skin, the soft spidery trail leading up his throat. Benny's hot wet mouth suddenly engulfed his adams apple, sucking strongly, the his tongue lapped at the hollow of his throat. He felt Ray lean back in his arms; and let him gently down against the pillows. With a coyly pleased with himself smile he wriggled down to the foot of the bed and bent to industriously remove Ray's shoes and socks. His fingers stroked and kneaded the flesh in a strong yet sensual massage.

"Oh, God, Benny, that's so good."

"Uh huh, " as all Benny would say, before diving on Ray's toes to suck them amorously.

Ray gripped the bedsheets as he arched back, his fist thumping the mattress, trying not to scream out in extreme pleasure.

He squirmed, twisted and contorted on the bed as Benny's hot slick mouth sucked and pulled on his toes; fire seemed to shoot up his legs straight into his groin. He thought he was going to, oh god; Benny pulled back, leaving him cruelly at the verge of coming, the corner's of that beautiful mouth twitching up in a wicked, self satisfied smile. He straddled Ray, unbuckling his belt.

"Interested now, are we?" Benny teased. Ray was beginning to think he'd created a monster. Ben unzipped and pulled away Ray's trousers. Ray's organ was already wet, hard and dark. Benny lay down over Ray to kiss his knees, lick the inside of his thighs, his tongue flicking in and out all the way up to encircle his balls before Ben took one, then the other, in his mouth.

A strangled cry was the only sensible comment he could get from Ray. Finally, his fingers coiled around the base of Ray's penis and began to squeeze and pull, while his tongue teased at the tip. Ray thrust his head back and cried as he felt the heat throb through him, faster and faster until it burst in an explosion of white hot heat.

Benny lay down beside him, lips slick with his juices.

"Better?" Benny asked, touching a fingertip so fondly to Ray's cheek.

They hugged, tenderly. Benny manoeuvred himself behind Ray, kissing his shoulder blade lovingly, he enfolded him in his arms, his hardness pressing against his arse, then, rubbing slowly.

Ray took Ben's hand and kissed the palm tenderly, in an explicit gesture of consent and trust.

Ben buried his face against Ray's back, grunting as his thrusts between Ray's arse grew faster. He grabbed at Ray's nipples, pinching hard. Ray groaned, pushing one hand down to his hard cock, wrapping it around the case, guiding it up and down. Ben twisted away for a moment, then returned, fingers slick with cold lubricant, he wriggled them inside Ray, pushing deep until he stroked the prostrate in time with his pulls on Ray's hard cock.

"Oh, god, " Ray moaned against the pillow. He felt Ben's mouth, sucking hard upon the skin of his back, the pressure of his teeth, pulling at the soft, pliant flesh; the bites moved up and down his spine to his buttocks, first one cheek, then the next. At first Ben was careful not to hurt him, then, as their passion mounted, he grew more and more frenzied and violent, but Ray was too far gone on endorphin's to notice.

Ray wanted this, he cried out, pushing himself against Ben. He felt Fraser's face buried against his neck, then a sudden, sharp pressure, and he realised Fraser was biting him.

He pushed into Ray, bucking wildly; Ray pushed himself back on the hard shaft as Ben took him in gentle the brutal thrusts.

He came, but was not yet sated; withdrawing he turned Ray over, gathering him up in his arms and impaling him, he kissed Ray feverishly as they rocked together, locked in passion, pumping Ray until he spurted his creamy white liquid into Ben's hand. With a soft grunt, Fraser came inside him. They lay, joined, for a little while before Fraser slipped free, leaving Ray feeling open, cold and alone. He rolled over and snuggled against his lover.

Ben lay Ray back down against the bedsheets, cradling him so very tenderly and carefully, the animal passion now spent, he brushed Ray's skin with feather light butterfly kisses.

Ray snuggled close, the sharper bites on his skin beginning to sting, but uncaring. The love he saw in Ben's eyes meant everything to him. He would give anything to this man.

~~

Teresa Maria Vecchio. Fraser pulled the file free and, handling it carefully, walked back to Ray's vacant desk to open it, almost reverently. He had barely begun to glance at the contents when the Lieutenant leaned over the desk and closed it for him.

"Did Vecchio tell you about his wife's death?" demanded the Lieutenant gruffly.

"No Sir," Fraser answered.

The Lieutenant picked up the file and held it close against his chest, one arm across it.

"well, this isn't a reading library, and our files are not here to satisfy your personal curiosity, Constable. May I remind you that you have no jurisdiction in this city."

"Yes, Sir." Fraser acknowledged, and watched the Lieutenant and the file walk away from him.

~~

Fraser set his father's journal aside, curious at the knock on the door; Ray usually announced himself by the soft jingle of keys and the faint smell of aftershave. As he moved closer to the door, he caught a faint scent of floral perfume. Cautiously, he opened the door, and was relieved to see Elaine there.

"Can I come in?" she asked urgently.

A little concerned as to her motives, Fraser nevertheless admitted her into his apartment.

"Tea?" he offered.

"Yeah, thanks."

He turned, and heard the sound of blouse buttons being unfastened hurriedly.

Nervously, he turned, and found Elaine partially disrobed, pulling a wad of photocopies from underneath her belt which had held them in place.

Fraser suddenly realised what the copies were, and what she had done.

"Elaine - you shouldn't have. I don't want you to get in trouble doing favours for me."

"No trouble, " She flashed a winning smile at him. "Besides, I don't mind doing favours for you, Fraser,"

"Uh huh," He was on unsteady ground again.

Gratefully he took the copies from her nevertheless, and spread them on the table.

A more annoyed than curious glance from him as he looked up from the papers made Elaine reluctantly rebutton her blouse. An uneasy tension fell between them, and neither spoke for several moments.

"What are you expecting to find, " Elaine forced herself to speak at last.

"I don't know, " he answered honestly.

He looked up again, and smiled his most beautiful smile, a smile that stabbed her through the heart nevertheless.

"Thank you kindly, Elaine," he beamed.

"Yeah, Sure. See you round, Fraser."

Not quite understanding her mood swings from generous to petulant, Fraser watched her almost stomp to the door. She swung around suddenly.

"Its Ray, isn't it." You and Ray -" she couldn't finish the sentence, but the sudden wary look in his eyes told her volumes. And since when had Benton Fraser ever had a wary look, anyway.

She let herself out of the apartment, and Fraser buried himself in his quest to find the truth.

~~

Macleod sensed the presence of another, even as he stood on the footpath outside Dawson's bar. Still, Dawson had called him. He did not suspect a trap, not quite. He touched his hand to the hidden hilt of his sword, comforted by its cold metal caress.

The smell of stale beer and peanuts hit him as he pushed open the door.

"Joe?" he called, in his voice that held traces of a thousand dialects.

Dawson moved awkwardly from behind the sound system.

"Duncan, we have a problem."

"I don't like it when you say that."

"Well, two, in fact."

"Oh, brilliant," muttered Duncan, the British in his voice floating to the fore.

Dawson moved aside, letting a younger woman move out of the shadows.

"Teresa, " Duncan murmured, surprised. "I thought you were still in hiding."

"She is, " Dawson answered.

"Duncan, its Ray. He's in trouble." She looked to him with wet brown eyes.

"You're husband? What can I do?"

Dawson threw a photograph down on the table in front of Duncan.

"This is Armando Iannuci. One of you. I was watching him. So was your friend Mako. But Iannuci died in a FBI sting operation. They had the body -"

Duncan's eyes widened. "You mean -"

"Yes. They've had Iannuci for the last 10 years. From what I can glean from my sources, they used him as part of some Axis experiments that continued in secret after the war. Two weeks ago, he escaped."

"He's gone to Chicago, " Teresa explained. "Apparently, he's quite mad, he has little or no memory, they tortured him for years, killing him over and over. Something drew him back to Chicago. I'm afraid it might be Ray. If it is, he's in such terrible danger."

"Why, Teresa, "

"Because, because of what Armando did to Ray, when he was a child. I'm afraid he might kill him."

Duncan's mouth set in a grim line.

"You want me to kill him."

Joe turned to Duncan, leaning close to emphasise his point.

"He's a loose cannon, dangerously insane. He was studied, essentially tortured, for nearly 10 years. I'm afraid he might re-enact his torture upon his victims." Dawson explained. "He's dangerous, he's already brought your kind to the attention of the government. You must keep your own house in order, Macleod."

Duncan considered this, but found himself dwelling on Teresa's soulful, pleading eyes.

"You still love your husband very much, don't you." he asked.

She nodded sadly.

"If you could only know what its like, watching, never touching."

"You could tell him."

"How could I?" The Government were after me, the FBI, the OBE, to testify, I was dead, I had to be dead. Please, Duncan, for me."

He took her hands softly in his, and kissed her softly on the forehead.

"For you, Teresa. Because I do know what its like to love someone, to love someone so much, " he broke off , unable to find the words.

They stood in silence for a few moments, before Dawson interrupted.

"One more thing, Macleod. you've picked up a couple of Feds on your tail. watch yourself, okay?"

"Right, thanks, " Duncan grumbled.

~~

"Open up, FBI."

Fraser swung the door open, grinning.

Scully raked her eyes over the handsome Canadian, clad only in jeans.

"They better have coffee and the morning paper." yelled Ray from the couch, not even bothering to look up.

"You'll have to excuse Ray. He's not a morning person." Ben apologised sincerely.

Mulder grinned, a little too much, as Scully shot him a filthy look.

"Hi. Just passing, thought we'd drop in," explained Mulder.

"There goes my Sunday, " muttered Ray darkly, until he saw the box of doughnuts proffered by Scully, diving on one instantly.

Fraser watched him, amused.

"Not one word I like my sugar rush, " Ray warned him, and offered Fraser's doughnut to Dief, who didn't need any convincing.

"Hope you didn't have plans for today. " Mulder smiled a little wickedly.

"Nah, " shrugged Ray. "Only having Benny suck my toes - "

Fraser fumbled his styrofoam cup of coffee, spilling the contents over the floor.

"Fraser, are you alright?" Scully swept down upon him and the floor instantly with a teatowel.

"Yes, fine, thankyou." he glanced at his partner.

"There's no need to be so crude, Ray, " he chastised.

Ray answered with a self satisfied smile. He enjoyed stirring his uptight little Canadian, stirring two Feds as well was a bonus.

The constable had obviously been working out, Scully could not help but notice, and now possessed nothing grotesque but a smooth, well defined muscle tone that could have, should have been immortalised in marble. He looked so much like a moving classical statue, breathed to life by the gods. She wondered if he had bought into the gay beauty myth or had merely missed testing himself against the elements in the northwest territories. She bet Ray had endless hours of fun bouncing quarters off that washboard stomach. Fraser caught her hand.

"Thankyou kindly, but I think I'm dry now, " he smiled, and not very coyly.

~~

"Yo! Elliott Ness! Ray waved to the tall, thin yet strangely attractive FBI agent who stood at the threshold of the squad room.

Mulder's face lightened with a smile and he made a beeline for Ray's desk with his lanky stride; sliding down on Benny's seat, he leant forward, almost conspiratorially.

Ray's hazel eyes studied him for a moment, then he bowed his head.

"I never really thanked you for your help on the investigation --"

Mulder's lips quirked into a smile.

"It was worth it just to see Skinner's face when I asked to be assigned to a bread and butter bank robbery investigation." He suddenly regretted calling it a run of the mill case - Fraser had nearly died, but Ray brushed over it.

"Your evidence, and testimony, You saved Fraser's career, or what's left of it. They wanted to transfer him, but no one else wanted him."

"Yeah, well I know what its like to be in the too hard basket. Us 'too-hards' have got to stick together."

Ray smiled.

"I still can't believe Benny was ready to throw his career away over a woman. I mean, *Benny*" he emphasised, sotto voice, still unable to really believe it.

Mulder shrugged.

"So, how are you and Ben?" he asked. "No problems? No nightmares?"

Rays eyes narrowed for a second, then softened.

"You're still having them too, huh?"

Mulder leant forward, arms folded, eyes downcast.

"Not so much now, but yes. I don't like to sleep, if I can help it." The dark circles under his eyes were evidence of that. He'd never really slept peacefully since his sister had disappeared. The vampires had not helped.

"Ben?" he pressed.

"Physically, fine. Though he's still got the bullet inside him. Emotionally, I don't know. He won't see a psychologist. Maybe you --"

"Could talk to him?" Mulder smiled. "And You?"

Ray returned his weak smile.

"I'm fine. IA and the police psychologist cleared me."

"Did you clear yourself?"

Ray looked away.

"I don't know. I don't know if I can. I shot my best friend, my lover. He has a bullet from my gun inside him, that I put inside him. How do you try and forget that?"

"He said he forgave you."

"I know."

Mulder glanced around the chaotic and shabby squad room.

"I'm here so often I should consider buying real estate."

"Yeah. So, what is it this time?"

"That headless corpse you found --"

"Serial killer, right.'

"You got it."

"Thought so. Looks like we're working together again."

"Looks like, " Mulder agreed. The rest of the FBI might hate Vecchio and Fraser, perhaps it made him even more of a black sheep to pal around with them, but it had never been Mulder's way to ride roughshod over the local authorities, even though he had the right to. And he'd be mad to refuse the assistance of two officers he had learned to really respect, and, more than that, to care for, as friends.

~~

Fraser crouched down, tilting his head as he squinted up the road.

Mulder walked out of the alleyway, hands deep in his coat pockets, to where Fraser was crouched, standing over him, leaning slightly, to try and see what had caught Fraser's attention so.

"This has nothing to do with the decapitation, does it?" he asked at last.

"No," Fraser admitted, standing.

Fraser frowned, not quite sure how to put the words. Giving up, he just pulled the photocopy from his pocket and handed it to Mulder.

Mulder unfolded it and realised it was a police photograph of skid marks on a road, this road.

"The night of the killing?" Mulder asked.

"No. But there was a death involved. Ray's wife, she was killed in a hit run accident in this very spot."

"That's why you were here, that night,"

Fraser nodded tersely.

Mulder glanced around, and his trained eyes spotted the shrivelled white rose, still taped to the street light.

"The report blamed the poor lighting, but there are no maintenance reports for that light on the night in question. Nor was it overcast."

"You don't think it was an accident?"

"Ray isn't sure -"

"And you'd like to know if he's deluding himself or whether there is some sort of cover up." Mulder paused, unable to meet Fraser's eyes.

"I really don't think I'm the man you should be taking this to," Mulder said at last.

"On the contrary, " insisted Fraser, "You're exactly the man I should bring this too, and the only one I would trust."

Mulder raised his eyebrows.

"I was denied access to this file, specifically. A friend smuggled me the copies."

That statement did little to lessen Mulder's surprise at Ben partaking in his world of suspicion and subterfuge.

"Fraser, hang around with me too long, and you'll start seeing shadows everywhere."

"Only if they're there," he decided.

Mulder

Fraser heard Ray's "Oh no, not him, " and glanced away from Mulder.

Shambling towards them with definite intent was an eccentric looking gentleman in a seersucker suit and straw hat.

"I don't need this, " reiterated Ray, his voice raising a pitch. "You encouraged him. You deal with him." he accused all and sundry.

"Okay, Ray, " Ben called, waving to him with a forced half smile.

He and Mulder straightened, awaiting the approach of the eccentric reporter.

~~

"Oh that's just great. She never told me he was a cop." bemoaned Duncan to his companion as he watched the man he was supposed to be protecting walk over the scene of a beheading with a Mountie and two other officers in tow. "Aren't those the two Feds -" Richie started. "Uh huh." "That makes things complicated." "Well, who wants life to be boring." muttered Duncan, not terribly convinced. To live in interesting times was an old Chinese curse. Duncan's 400 years had hardly been dull. He leant forward. "Actually, it could make life easier, if they stick together . We won't have to watch our backs while tailing after Vecchio, not if he's going to pal around with those Feds." "I still don't know why you agreed to this." "Because I promised a friend. My word still means something." he added as a slight to his companion. Richie settled down in the seat for a scheduled sulk. Of course, Duncan couldn't openly approach Vecchio, or even warn him about what was going on. Not with those Feds there.

~~

District Assistant Skinner glanced over the top of his glasses as Cancer Man walked into his office without even bothering to knock, lighting up a Morley in spite of the office's non smoking policy.

He took a long draw on the cancer stick.

"Someone's accessed the Verduci file."

Skinner's eyebrows raised slightly.

"Who?"

"Agent Mulder." Another drag on the Morley.

Skinner leant back wearily in his big leather chair.

"Why doesn't that surprise me, " he sighed.

~~

Ray leant against the rail, watching Fraser glide around the rink. He was vaguely aware of being joined by two others, one on either side, flanking him.

"He moves like a winged god," Scully sighed at last.

"Yeah." Ray smiled. "He does." Ray was far from the only person to be watching Fraser, and it gave him a smug comfort to know Fraser was his.

Fraser saw them and swept to a halt in front of them.

"Come on, Ray," he grinned.

"Ah. no. I think I've still got the bruises from the last time I let you drag me out onto the ice."

He turned his beaming smile onto Scully, but she shook her head demurely.

Mulder, then.

"Hey, its been years - not since I was 12 - "

"Like riding a bicycle, " Ray grinned, a little too eager to see the Fed go flat on his face.

Mulder shrugged and caved. No one could resist those clear blue eyes or that sweet half smile.

Fraser waited patiently as Mulder laced his skates.

"The lab got back to me about the photographs. The xerox quality didn't help, but they were pretty sure those skid marks were made by a car accelerating, deliberately, over a short distance."

Fraser glanced away, as though the words actually caused him pain.

"Looks like Ray was right. Of course, that opens a whole can of worms. Do you really want to pursue this, Fraser. I've got to tell you, when I put Teresa's maiden surname through the FBI database, alarm bells went off all over the place."

~~

Mulder followed Fraser out onto the ice unsteadily. A girl swished past them, flashing her smile and arse at Fraser; Mulder almost fell over.

"So, you just skate around and around - " Mulder asked.

Fraser shrugged.

"Usually, I play hockey, but just skating is fine too. I like the cold, and I can just think."

"Uh huh, " said Mulder, thinking only of falling hard on his arse.

"Come on, " Fraser took off at warp speed, leaving Mulder trailing in his slushy wake.

~~

Scully pressed an ice pack against Mulder's knee, trying her best to look sympathetic and not laugh.

"You know, that's a pretty impressive shade of purple." she observed.

Mulder just glared at her.

"Who'd have thought that passing information to a Mountie would make my meetings with Deep Throat seem like a cakewalk." he muttered between gritted teeth.

"What information."

"Nothing."

"Mulder - " Scully fixed him with her inquisitor's stare.

"It's nothing to do with the case. Fraser wanted to know if there was a hint of things being shoved under the carpet in regards to the investigation into the death of Ray's wife. He might well be right."

"Ray was married?" This was news to Scully.

"Yeah. And her family were in the business, if you know what I mean."

Scully continued pressing the ice pack against Mulder's knee.

"Did you tell Fraser some stones are best left unturned?"

"Yeah - but coming from me -"

"I see, " she replied. "Mulder, we're here to investigate one case, and one case only." she reminded.

~~

Fraser leant forward over Ray's typewriter tiredly.

Ray glanced up from the file he was reading. wordlessly, he put the file down, stood, walked to stand behind where Fraser sat, and began a slow massage of his shoulders.

Fraser made a deep murmuring noise in the back of his throat, leaning back into Ray's hands, eyes closed, half smiling like a cat. He could feel Ray's stirring erection begin to prod the back of his neck as the long, sensual fingers dug at his flesh through the material of his shirt. He leant back further, abandoning himself to the experience.

Ray broke off suddenly, patting him on the shoulder.

Fraser opened his eyes, blinking, suddenly aware of where he was.

Elaine was watching them, like a hawk.

"Better?" asked Ray, his voice pitched a little high, his smile affable.

"Yes, Thank you, Ray, " Benton answered, sweet as pie.

Ray sat down on his side of the desk again, trying to work, trying to ignore Ben, but not succeeding.

"Stop that, " he demanded at last in exasperation.

"Stop what, Ray?"

"Giving me those bedroom eyes of yours, " hissed Ray across the desk.

Ben looked downcast.

"I'm sorry, Ray. I didn't realise -"

"Sure you didn't. Just stop it, okay?" I'm trying to get some work done here."

Ben nodded obediently, though Ray didn't look up to see it. Ben resumed his typing, more than a little subdued, more than a little hurt by Ray's rebuttal.

Ray went back to his file. A few minutes later, he felt a soft warm breath blow across his ear.

He ignored it and continued reading. He felt it again.

He slapped his pen down and looked straight into the eyes of his best friend. That damned poker faced Mountie was blowing in his ear.

Ray couldn't believe it. Benny had delineated a very definite line between their working and private lives, no hanky panky during working hours. Now he was getting fresh, and distracting Ray from work he really had to get through.

"Stop that, " he hissed.

"Stop what, Ray, " came the maple syrup sweet reply.

"You know damn well what, " shot back Ray darkly.

Innocent eyes blinked at him.

Ray scowled. Of all the days for Benny's libido to get away from him.

"Do you want me to leave, Ray?"

"No. Just behave yourself."

OH, God, no. Now he was pouting. He hated it when he did that. He felt so cruel, so guilty. Which was exactly how he was supposed to feel.

"Make yourself useful and get me a cup of coffee."

"Okay, Ray, " he trotted off obediently.

Ray stared at his open file, not seeing the words. Damn.

With a harsh sigh, Ray pushed himself up and away from his desk, resigned to follow Benny down to the snack room.

He met the ever efficient Mountie coming back up the stairs, coffee in hand. Ray grabbed both Benton and the coffee, tossing the coffee in the trash, much to Benny's consternation, and pulled him, almost by the collar, manhandling the Mountie into the closet, shutting the door firmly behind them. Benny was no longer confused, knowing instantly for what purpose Ray had dragged him in here.

Fraser leant back against the rear wall of the closet, eyes closed, head tilted back, abandoned to the sensation.

Ray knelt before him reverently, the red serge coat hanging open, the white undershirt pushed up under the braces, revealing pure white skin across a taunt stomach, which Ray was kissing slowly, lovingly, hands massaging the hard, pink nipples .

The door was pulled open so suddenly Ray almost fell backwards. Fraser opened his eyes and found himself staring straight into the shocked, hurt and accusatory brown eyes of Elaine..

Fraser merely looked sternly at his wolf.

"I said guard the door, " he reminded.

He reached out and pulled the door closed, leaving Elaine to mouth the words "Ray Vecchio?" to wood and paint.

~~

Lt Welsh gestured from the doorway of his office.

"Elaine, a minute, please, " he asked in that carefully measured neutral tone of his.

"Sir?" she asked, once inside his office, unsure of exactly what she was about to be carpeted for.

"What is it between you and Vecchio?" he asked.

"Vecchio?"

"Yes, Vecchio. You've been scowling at him all afternoon, And when he asked you to look something up for him, you were more than a little hostile. Now I know Vecchio isn't the easiest person to get along with, but I did think you had some sort of rapport with him and Big Red."

If Elaine could have gone a deep rose colour, she would have. In fact, she wasn't at all sure she hadn't.

"I see, " observed Welsh. "You caught them practising mouth to mouth in the closet, didn't you."

Elaine's eyebrows shot up.

"You knew..."

"So long as it doesn't interfere with their case load, I don't care either way." He half smiled.

"Get over it Elaine. "

And with that, he dismissed her.

~~

Ray leant forward, pushing his cup onto the dashboard.

"God, I hate stakeouts, " he muttered crankily, forehead furrowed deeply in a frown. He hunched his shoulders, cold.

Benny shifted in his seat, so that his body was close to Ray's, as close as they could get with the gear stick between them.

Without even so much as a sidelong glance to Ray, he began serruptiously sliding his hand up and down Ray's thigh. Softly at first, then stronger, grasping the muscles and twisting slightly.

Ray settled back in the car seat, a contented smile suffusing his features.

"Oh, that's nice, Benny, but who's going to watch the hotel?"

"Just keep watching, Ray." Benny advised, leaning over into Ray's lap.

Ray felt almost lazy fingers begin to trace the outline of his quickly swelling sex organ, rubbing firmly against the hard rod like flesh that pressed against his Armani trousers. Benny squeezed through the fabric, as though milking him, squeezing and rubbing until there was a small patch of dampness where the head of his penis pushed at the cloth. Benny brushed his face against the erection, rubbing his cheek against the hard flesh through the trousers, inhaling deeply of Ray's now familiar scent.

Ray felt the zipper head slide into Benny's mouth, and the softly pulling down begin, the fabric pulling away to reveal his manhood pushing up through his briefs. Ray gripped the handle on the door tightly as Benny drew his blood flushed shaft out through his briefs, exposing it to the cold night air. He felt the tongue slide across his head, circling it, dipping in and out of his slit, tasting his juices, hands cupping and squeezing his balls with fond familiarity, then, grasping his shaft in one strong hand, began working him, up and down, swallowing the head entirely, engulfed in Benny's hot mouth. Ray's hips pushed up and up. His hands curled through Benny's thick dark hair, tracing wild patterns on his scalp, massaging his neck, sliding down his back as he pulled and sucked.

"Oh, yeah, oh, god, Benny, yeah, god, " gasped Ray, forgetting Mulder could hear everything over his radio mike. He felt Benny choke when he came, his hand felt the spasm in the middle of his back as he tried to swallow the thick hot flood of Ray's semen.

"Oh, god, Benny, " Ray sighed as Benny's tongue pushed into him again, sucking him dry.

Benny sat up, sharing Ray's dopey smile, his lips and teeth glistening, slick and wet, in the street light.

Ray fondled himself, trying to prolong the warm sensation of orgasm, before reluctantly pushing his softening cock back inside his pants and pulling the zipper up.

He leant across, twisting his narrow body to avoid the steering wheel, and planted a very grateful kiss on Benny's salty lips.

"I love you, " he whispered.

"I know, " smiled Benny, blue eyes dark and dilated. Ray snuggled down, head against his lover's shoulder, sleepy. Ben slid a protective arm around Ray, encouraging him to sleep. He would watch the hotel for the rest of the night, but it seemed that Mulder's suspects were reluctant to come out and play.

Mulder heard the Rays voice softly, the insistently, over the radio mike in his ear. Casually, so casually Scully barely noticed him, he stood, as if to get a better view of the hotel, resting lazily against the window, with f ull view of the street. He could see Fraser and Ray in the car, see what they were doing, and, more than that, he could feel Ben, just the slightest touch, the soft wash of passion infecting him. His eyes dilated as he watched, listening to Ray's sweet murmurs, felling Fraser's lust, he knew it was Fraser he was sensing, though he felt his own arousal rising.

Ray cast a sideways glance at his lover.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured. dreamily , cocooned in post orgasm fuzziness.

Fraser smiled, his lips still glistening in the streetlight.

"We'll have to arrest ourselves for lewd behaviour in a public place, " Ray added in the same faraway voice.

Fraser chuckled, it was a delightful sound. His dimples creased with his grin. "I don't think so, Ray," he laughed fondly.

Ray was mildly surprised. Fraser was really loosening up. What a terrible influence he must be.

He slid his hand softly over Fraser's, feeling the smooth, milky white skin under his fine fingers.

"God, but I love you, ' he murmured, just a little sadly.

Duncan stood solemnly at the window, watching the street, knowing, from his centuries of experience, that one of the cars parked down there was on surveillance duty, watching him, waiting for him to make his move. The FBI agents had followed him to Chicago, or arrived in the city drawn to the same hunt, the hunt for a killer. He couldn't blame them, not intellectually, for putting him on their A list of suspects. He was a killer, after all. In battle, and in the single combat peculiar to his kind. He had taken more lives and heads than he cared to remember. He was guilty. Sometimes, his Catholic upbringing panged at him, and there was no Darius to sooth away his worries, not any more. These law officers knew a hot trail when they found one. He'd had the FBI on his trail before, his name was in too many police reports. He'd been careless. The age of print, and now the age of computers had caught up with him, preserving his movements as accurately as any Watcher's diary, for those who cared to look. Of course, he hadn't helped matters, following in the killer's footsteps, coming here, for Teresa. But he understood her fear. If he could have done anything, anything at all, to save Tessa, he would have.

"Mac, " Richie flicked on the switch, causing the older immortal to blink in the sudden light, then hastily draw the curtain against prying eyes.

"You're standing here in the dark. This isn't a good sign, its it." he walked up and tweaked the curtain. "Are we being watched?"

"Yes." came the gruff reply.

"Mac, what is it, " demanded Richie, knowing he was going to forcibly pry words out of the Scotsman, especially when he was in one of these moods.

"I shouldn't have brought you here, Richie. Its too dangerous."

"What, the Fed on our tail? We can dodge him."

"Maybe, ' replied Macleod, unconvinced.

"What?" demanded Richie. He hated being left out, he hated being treated like a child, he hated the way Macleod kept information from him.

"His name is Mulder. Both Dawson and Gloria have warned me about him. He's not like the others. He's not just solving crimes and drawing a paycheck. He's on a personal crusade for the truth, to learn all the hidden mysteries. Its a religion for him. He's a fanatic."

"Is he dangerous?"

"Most fanatics are."

"So, we'll go, go to Europe, Canada, Australia," Richie was still young, There were still places he could run to.

"Come on, Mac."

"No." he cut him off. "I promised Teresa."

"Yeah, but her husband is working with the Feds."

Mac half smiled. "Well, that's what makes life interesting."

"I thought you were worried."

"I am. But I've been in worse situations. And I've never run out on a promise to a friend. Ever." he added meaningfully.

Richie had moved from his side to behind him slightly, and he felt the eternal 19 year old's hands slide up his back to massage his shoulders firmly.

Mac leant his head back, letting out his breath in a sigh, a half grunt of pleasure and sadness. Tessa had taught him this. She had taught Richie how to comfort him, how to be there for him, as if she had known. Perhaps she had known all along that Richie was one of his kind, his apprentice, and had prepared him more fully to be Duncan's companion after her death than Duncan had ever prepared him for life as an immortal.

Richie was pulling his fine white cotton shirt free, sliding his hands underneath, touching the flesh, pulling away the material, pressing his lips to Duncan's flesh. Duncan turned, dropping his shirt to the floor as Richie knelt before him, planting kisses across his abdomen, nuzzling against his crotch, his hands squeezing his buttocks.

"I want you in me, " he pleaded, so quietly Duncan barely heard him.

Duncan caught the thick red hair in his hands, grunting with pleasure again as his belt was unbuckled, his fly pulled down, and Richie's tongue lapped along his length. Tessa had taught him well, very well. His fingers dug into the boy's shoulders as his balls were sucked quite firmly, lightning snapped and crashed in his eyes as Richie swallowed him, the spark, the energy swirling up and arcing between them as they began the slow ritual of sex. The sharing of the quickening, as well as the passion, intense and magic, it was the only thing immortals could give each other besides their heads.

The energy spread through his fingertips and through Richie's body, swirling around the room and beyond, billowing out into the atmosphere like a thick highly charged blanket of prestorm summer.

~~

Benny slipped his hand inside Ray's as they walked. It was a demonstration they only dared here, in the gay end of town. They had begun to spend more and more time here, in the cafes, the cinema, Benny in the bookshop; only here they felt secure enough to drop the pretence that their close friendship had n't progressed to something more.

Ray stroked the soft flesh with his thumb. This is what he liked. Just a touch, a reassurance that he was loved, the feel of skin against his, as close as they could get, trapped in these bodies as they were. A soft gentle expression, with nothing darkly sexual lurking behind the gesture.

Ray loved Benny, but he had grown weary of what lurked beneath that perfect surface, and was almost afraid to initiate sexual relations with him. Victoria and Lacroix had ripped open a mean streak Ray had always suspected lay buried. Amongst other things, Benny had developed a real sadism during sex, and Ray wasn't that much of a masochist. Or maybe he was, because he took it.

He glanced sideways. Behind that oh so sweet face was coiled a terrible anger and hatred, a murderous desire for love, and a good deal of that was directed at him, if he should ever make the mistake of letting that particular genie out of its bottle. And he did. Benny let his guard down when he was aroused and intimate. All his guards. And out the little monster would come. Ray blamed himself, for breaching Benny's walls. He should have known what he would find there.

"Ray, I've been wondering if Fox knows more about this case than he's telling us. I just get the feeling that there may be more to these killings than meets the eye."

"Yeah, right, Benny, " Ray muttered, moving his gaze away from his friend towards the roadway. A long, sleek car slid past, slower than the speed limit, slow enough for Ray to notice, for the fine hairs on the back of his slender neck to raise, cop instinct falling into place, eyes narrowing, searching for the shape of a weapon in the window, hand reaching for the gun shoved in the back of his belt.

But the face in the car window stayed his hand. Ray was lost, lost in memories he'd prefer to leave buried, memories of adolescence, seduced by the style and charisma of his suave distant cousin from the east. Following him around like a puppy, until he had been further seduced, his trust abused, as well as his body; his mind flashed back to being sprawled across the bed, restrained and subdued, powerless to resist his elder cousin, powerless to be anything more than the receptacle into which his cousin poured his seed. Ray stared at the man, who me his eyes directly, with meaning, with intensity, with burning madness and desire. Then the look was broken, the car pulled away.

Ray shook his head. No, seeing things. His cold and crazy connected cousin had been killed 10 years ago in an FBI sting operation. There was no way in hell he could be driving through the streets of Chicago, on the prowl, hunting Ray.

"Ray, " Fraser laid a gentle hand on his lover's shoulder, their squabble, whatever it had been about, forgotten.

"Nothing, Benny. Just thought I saw someone I knew."

"And was it."

"No, Frasier. They're dead."

Fraser tilted his head to the side, about to make an observation about his father but, frowning, decided against it.

Ray walked a few more steps, and made his deer caught in the headlights expression. He stopped so suddenly that Fraser, walking half a pace behind in deference to Ray's obvious upset, almost crashed into him.

"Its her, " he whispered, so softly Fraser barely caught the words.

Ray shook his head again, looked up the street, and sure enough the girl was gone. Obviously he'd been hit on the head one time too many.

"Someone else?" asked Benny, ever so quietly and non judgementally.

Ray nodded, silently.

"Someone dead?"

Again, Ray nodded.

Ben slipped his arm protectively around Ray, and they continued their journey forwards.

They spoke no more about it, but the constantly changing expressions on Ray's face, like a kaleidoscope, spoke volumes regarding the effect the sightings, real or imagined, had had upon him.

~~

Mrs Vecchio opened the door and was surprised, then alarmed to find two pale, dark suited, dark glasses wearing, sombre men on her doorstep. She looked from Fraser's stony expression to Mulder's.

"Where's Raymundo? Has something happened --"

Fraser's expression shifted from neutral to constricted.

"Oh, no, he's fine, Mrs Vecchio. I just wondered, could we see some pictures of Ray's wedding?"

He knew his request must sound odd, but, removing his sun glasses, he beamed his best smile, fluttered his eyelashes at her expectantly, and was admitted instantly.

"Has Raymundo told you --"

"No. But I was curious."

"Ah, " nodded Ray's mother knowingly. She led the way into the loungeroom, Benny and Mulder tagging behind her.

Ben knew what he was in for, Ray's life in pictures. Still, he was not disinterested, and at least Ray wasn't here to rail against being hugely embarrassed by Fraser finally seeing the long threatened nude baby on a rug shots.

"Well, its bigger now," he whispered to Mulder as he turned past the pages, Mulder struggled to control a laugh, surprised to hear such a comment come out of Ben. There seemed to be a lot of pictures missing, dark blank spaces taking up almost whole pages at times, Mulder noticed curiously. Ben flicked through the teenage years, a wry smile at the glum, gangly young Italian with the amazing quiff if hair scowling darkly in each photo. He had not had a happy childhood, or adolescence. The only photos where he was genuinely smiling, were the engagement photos, his arm around his wife to be, smiling so very softly. There was real love there. Ben didn't know why he was surprised, but Teresa was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. A few pages later and Benny was at the wedding photos. He had never, ever, seen Ray smile like that. Even at their best, there was always a haunted pain buried deep in those hazel eyes. Benny touched the photo with his fingertips, almost wistful, to see Ray smile like that. There was a large portrait of all the guests.

Fraser glanced up in Mrs Vecchio's direction. "Could I borrow this and have a copy made?"

"Of course, Benito, " Mrs Vecchio waved him off, trustingly.

Carefully, Ben removed the photo from the page, fully intending to return it after he had copied it.

He turned to Mulder.

"Could you fax this through to the FBI and see if any of these faces match any on record?"

"You want to know who's family and who's Family?"

Fraser nodded. He carefully slipped the photo in his pocket and nodded his thanks to Mrs Vecchio.

~~

Mulder slanted Fraser a look as they walked down the Vecchio's front steps.

"His mother knows?"

"Of course, Fox. Mrs Vecchio has been very supportive. She considers me a part of the family."

Mulder shot him another glance. "Part of the family?"

Now that was almost jealous. No, it was jealous. There was still some ethereal bond between them, a low, animal undercurrent of raw sexuality that made the atmosphere in Mulder's rented car hot and thick.

Fraser could only shrug. "Well, yes, Fox."

Mulder just looked hi over, then leant over and switched on the ignition.

Mulder sat hunched over at Ray's desk, concentrating on the xerox blow up of the photo of Ray's wedding. There was something about the man standing behind Ray's left shoulder, looking at Ray so intensely, that jogged something, Mulder mentally searched hid photographic memory for a matching file, and his brows drew together when he thought he had found one.

~~

Ray picked up the photo album where it was lying on top of the bookshelf. It fell open at the blank page where his wedding photo ought to be.

"Ma, " he called. "Where's the photo of me and Terri?"

His mother came through the door wiping her hands on a towel.

"Oh, Fraser borrowed it for a little while."

Ray shut the photo album without a word, his mouth in a grim line.

~~

Ray turned angrily to the window in Fraser's apartment.

"Is your job so boring that you have to dig into my private life."

"I thought we had no secrets, Ray."

Ray tried to bite his tongue, the struggle to bite back words showed on his face.

"Secrets, damn, Fraser. If I want to tell you about my wife, I'll tell you. Do not go prying into my life behind my back. Its none of your business."

"You never mentioned that you were widowed, " Fraser's voice quietly accused.

"The subject never came up in casual conversation. I don't tell you everything, Fraser. You never told me about Victoria."

Fraser bowed his head.

"Well, Ray, actually, I did."

"When."

"You were asleep."

"Then it doesn't count."

"I didn't know you were asleep."

"Still doesn't count. Besides, its not like Terri is going to turn up on the doorstep."

"They never found the driver -" Ben began, but something hard and sharp in Ray's eyes made him drop the subject.

"I'm sorry, Ray, " Fraser bowed his head. Now was not the time to confront Ray with his suspicions regarding Teresa's death.

"You damn well ought to be sorry, " continued Ray, angrier than usual, though he didn't know why. "I've given you everything, but don't you dare - just don't you dare start digging into my life with my wife, " his anger grew, it was coming out so fast it scared him, he couldn't stop.

"Just stay out of my goddamn life, " Ray railed. "Keep out of my business. I am not one of your fucking charity cases. Don't you dare treat me like one. Its not like you can bring her back, anyway. Just leave it alone."

"I'm sorry, Ray. Its just that I care..."

"You? Care? I don't fucking believe it! You've never cared about me for a second. You don't care when you risk my life and career on your stupid fucking crusades. And you sure as hell didn't care when you ran after that fucking bitch."

Ben went absolutely white; his mouth all but disappeared. In two strides he had crossed the distance between them, lashing out with his fist in blind rage, striking Ray down to the ground.

Ray shakily sat up, touching a hand to his bleeding lip. He looked up at Benny, fire in his eyes.

"That's just great, " he smiled horribly. "She used you, you know. Fucking used you bad, but you couldn't see it ,too busy thinking with your dick. She made a fool out of you. And if I ever see her again, I'll kill her. I swear, I will, " he promised.

Fraser picked him up and slammed him against the wall, white hot with rage.

"I hate you!" Ray screamed as Fraser struck him. "You were going to leave me and I fucking hate you!" he cried. Fraser slammed him into the wall again. "Don't" he wailed, trying to fight him off.

Fraser grabbed Ray and slammed him up against the wall again, so hard and fast Ray's senses reeled. Ray tried to push Fraser away, but strong forearms blocked him, slamming him back against the wall again.

Fraser wasn't looking at him, just slamming him up against the wall again and again in an insane rage. Ray tried to grab at an arm, but his hand was knocked away, pressed back against the wall.

"Benny, don't" Ray pleaded.

Ray gave up fighting, instead he moved only to defend d himself as Benny slammed him repeatedly up against the wall so hard his head rocked back and forth like a doll's. He brought up his hands, cringing like a child as Benny struck the away again.

"Damn you, " Fraser hissed, shoving him back again.

"Don't, " Ray pleaded.

Benny suddenly stopped, realising what he had done.

"Ray, " he choked.

Fraser stopped, the terrible strength leaving his arms, yet he still held Ray pinned against the wall.

"I'm sorry, " he cried in a gasp. "I'm so sorry."

He pushed Ray up against the wall, smothering him with a suffocating kiss.

"Don't, " Ray pleaded in a small voice as Benny's mouth slid from his down his throat. Ray's shirt was pulled open; Fraser slid his tongue amongst the dark hairs he found there. A strong firm hand cupped his genitals, rubbing them through the fabric of his Armani trousers. Ray gave in to his arousal as he was turned against the wall, Benny pressing up behind him, hand still sliding up and down his shaft, the friction igniting him. Those fingers flicked his belt open. His shirt was pulled away. He felt Fraser's bare chest pressed up against his back. The Fraser's cock pushing against his arse. Hard sucking kisses bruised across his back. He felt the hands grip his hips, and the first thrust cleave into him. He gasped, biting down. Benny buried his face against the back of his neck as he pumped inside him.

When he was done, Fraser pulled Ray down onto the bare floor with him, twining around him, sliding his thigh between Ray's, lavishing long, languorous kisses upon him; kisses so beautiful they moved Ray to the verge of tears. Benny moved down to take Ray in his mouth. the Italian could only clutch helplessly at Fraser's short dark hair as he was brought to the brink of ecstasy and over, filling Ben's mouth with his juices.

Ben rolled on top of him, planning baby kisses over his stomach, nuzzling the dark line of hair that arrowed towards his maleness.

Ray tilted his head back, eyes closed. Benton wriggled up to dot his face with tiny butterfly kisses, delicately running his tongue over Ray's lips, tracing their shape and form, grazing his teeth over his slight growth of stubble. Ray sighed, his breath mingling with Benny's. Benny's tongue trailed down his nose, then he moved to the side, swirling his tongue around Ray's ear, breathing out across the saliva slick skin, sucking upon the lobe, brushing his lips down his throat, planting a kiss on his adams apple. Fraser's cheek brushed lighting against his own.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't use a condom."

"S'okay, " mumbled Ray. "Neither did I."

Benny sat up, sense returning.

"No, it was reckless of me. I'll go and get some."

"No, stay." Ray slid his hand up Fraser's forearm. Benton smiled slightly. "I'd feel better if I used are."

He bobbed down and kissed Ray on the forehead.

"I'll be back in a moment." he promised.

Ray watched him from the floor as he pulled on his jeans and sweatshirt, checking his wallet was in his back pocket, before sitting down in the chair and pulling on his boots. He stood and smiled down at Ray, naked and drowsy.

"Don't go away, " he insisted.

"Hardly, " commented Ray dryly.

Several minutes after watching Benny leave he rolled over and stood up, padding over to the bed, sliding between the sheets to wait for Benny. He wondered if he should wear a velvet band around his throat.

Ray shifted up a little higher against the bed head as he heard the familiar footsteps approach, anticipation already stitching a knot in his stomach. He tossed his book aside and waited expectantly for the door to open, for Benton to barely acknowledge his presence but for a slight nod in his general direction as he hung up his leather jacket.

"What took you so long, " Ray asked, very casually, keeping his voice a studied neutral.

"The chemist was closed," Ben announced, pausing to pull his shirt over his head and drape it over the back of the chair. "So I had to go down to the bar on the corner, to use the dispenser there." He sat down on the chair and began unlacing his boots. "But it only took dollar coins, and I only had Canadian notes," he continued. He set his boots aside. "So I had to buy a packet of chips and get change, a lot of change." he grinned, standing and digging into his pocket to show Ray his shiny booty. It had not quite been three months since his last blood transfusion, and Ben, overly cautious and fastidious as usual, insisted on using protection every time he was intimate with Ray.

He slithered onto the bed, smoozing up to Ray as though to apologise for his tardiness, his unzipped jeans sliding down loosely around his hips, his eyes wet with desire. Ray wished he could take a photograph, to preserve what he saw forever, that he shared a bed with a work of art, a living breathing Canadian with the sculpture body of a classical statue, breathed to life by some god with an eye for beauty. He tried to forget Benny's beauty; the more Benny was made aware of it, it tainted him somehow, but now, lying there, he was so breath taking. Daringly, Ray leant forward and touched his poor mortal's mouth to those of his god, and drank sweetly from the nectar he found there.

Ben opened his mouth to the his, drawing Ray's tongue into his own mouth, his strong arms gathering Ray to him, manaourvering him beneath him, so he could press his body along the length of his lovers, felling the warm skin against his cooler flesh, sliding out of his jeans , already sheathed, already hard, delighted to find Ray still unclothed beneath the thin cotton sheet. He kissed Ray again, capturing his breath, stealing it away as though he meant to catch his soul, his hands, his tongue touching, feeling, exploring, pushing inside as deep as he dared to possess him, inside and out, to enjoy the feel of Ray, helpless to the pleasure, giving himself up to him, sacrificing himself in his arms, giving away himself, uncaring, unconscious to all but the touch of his lover.

Ray rolled over. Fraser's hands slid down Ray's back, to cup and squeeze his buttocks. He pulled them apart, exposing Ray to the air, then pressed them tight together again, kneaded them and pulled them apart.

Ben knelt, bestowing caste kisses upon each of the cheeks, before inhaling deeply of Ray's scent. He burrowed down in the bed, lapping at Ray's balls, then back up, wet tongue slicking, swirling, circling his puckered little hole. Then, as Ray relaxed and opened, sliding, pushing his tongue inside, darting in and out, tasting his Ray, his hands continuing to knead Ray's arse as his tongue flickered in and out, faster and faster, ticking the sensitive inside skin. Ray buried his head in the pillow, stifling a moan of wanting. He reached down, pinching his own nipples, thrusting his hips into the mattress, pushing his arse up to demand more of Benny's attention. His hand curled around his own cock and he began to work himself, hard and fast, pressing against the mattress. Oh, god, he was going to come, blood was pounding in his ears. All he knew was Benny, his tongue inside him.

Fraser flipped Ray over again. He bent down and sealed his mouth over the head of Ray's penis, sucking strongly, digging the tip of his tongue in and out of the slit, making Ray thrash wildly beneath him. He began to massage Ray's testes as well, getting turned on by the feel of the body jerking and bucking uncontrollably beneath him.

Ray moaned softly as Benny reached up to pinch his nipple, before returning to suck and nibble on his hardness, hands sliding around to pull his legs apart , his cheeks apart, his fingers stroking up and down the hot, wet sensitive skin, teasing the nub, wriggling in; Ray's body undulated and contorted even further beneath him, hips raising up of their own volition, offering to him. He pushed in deeper while licking upon the deeply flushed rod that drove in and out of his mouth.

Ben smiled wickedly, bestowing hard sucking kisses upon Ray's throat, watching as Ray barely dared to touch him, his thin olive hand trailing almost trembling with reverence across the impossibly smooth, sculpted white skin.

He knew what Ray wanted, his darkest, deepest desires, and he was no longer afraid to give them to him, to open up the forbidden fruits of his yearning. He straddled Ray neatly, gazing down upon his lover, revelling in the power he had over him, the power to make him feel like this, to murmur helplessly like a child, to beg him, plead with him for more. He wanted to give Ray everything.

He stroked the long elegant throat, his hand caressing harder and harder, closer and closer, constricting, squeezing with a gentle pressure.

Ray struggled, trying to knock Fraser away, his arms slapped away and them pinned, hard, above his head. Ben was strong, too strong for him.

His eyelids fluttered, things started to g grey. He never saw Ben's eyes, before dark and dilated, now ice blue, pinprick sharp, or the small beads of blood on his throat, like ruby jewels.

He pulled Ray's legs around him. He was going to fuck him hard. In Fraser's mind, he saw himself iniating Ray into an Inuit method of pleasure. In reality, his hand had strayed up to Ray's throat, enclosed it, squeezed it.

Then it came, white hot searing pain followed by dull red ache as his body screamed and tore to suddenly accommodate Ben's thick length. He slammed into him hard again with an animal grunt, lost to his own hard desires.

Ray tried to knock away the forearm that pinned him, but he was powerless, struggling for breath. Fraser's hand was squeezing tight, Ray tried to move, but he was pinned, everything was going grey as Fraser fucked him, suffocating him.

~~

Ray woke, groggy and was suddenly very aware that he'd been hurt last night. And the person who'd hurt him was still sleeping blithely beside him.

Fraser rolled over in his sleep, and Ray saw the claw marks down his back and across his shoulder. So, he'd given almost as good as he'd gotten last night.

~~

Ray dropped Fraser off at the consulate without a word, then drove on home. So he'd be late for his shift. So what.

He locked the bathroom door carefully before slipping off his shirt and trousers, tossing them into the wicker cane basket. Avoiding his reflection in the mirror, he twisted the shower on, waiting for a moment for the hot water to kick in, testing the temperature with his hand before stepping under.

He tilted his head back under the steady stream, letting it wash over him. He turned, feeling the water sting down his back where Fraser had bitten and clawed him.

Wincing, he carefully inserted a finger in himself, and withdrew, watching the blood wash away almost dispassionately.

Dammit, Fraser, he thought tiredly, I'm not made of arseholes.

He picked up the soap and began automatically washing himself.

~~

Lt Welsh leant out of his office door as he spied the uncharacteristically subduedly dressed Italian detective.

"Detective Vecchio, can I see you in my office."

Huey and Gardino watched Ray cross the room reluctantly without a ward, which made Ray even more concerned.

"Shut the door, Detective, and sit down, " started off Welsh, without even looking at him.

Oh oh, this was bad. What had he done now, Ray wondered.

Lt Welsh had a file open on his desk, Ray tried tried to read what it said upside down without appearing to do so.

Lt Welsh caught him instantly and shut the file.

"Detective, I'd like to ask you if you knew the whereabouts of Constable Fraser last night."

"Yes, he was with me - "

"All night - "

"Sir, what is this about?" Ray demanded, with a controlled calm.

"A woman was brought into a city hospital, pretty badly beaten up. She accused Constable Benton Fraser of raping and assaulting her."

Ray sat in his chair, too stunned to say or do anything.

"Ill ask you again, Detective, can you vouch for Fraser's whereabouts on the night in question."

Ray swallowed, and then, in a serious, level voice, answered.

"Yes Sir. He was with me."

"Doing what."

"We were having sex, Sir."

Welsh didn't even blink.

"All night?"

"On and off, Sir."

"And you'll put this on a statement? He was with you the entire night, he never went out at all."

Ray suddenly froze, and Lt Welsh saw it.

"He was with you the whole night - "

Ray swallowed hard, hazel eyes pained.

"He went out, only for a little while, to buy some more condoms - we ran out -" he shrugged.

"When was this."

"About 10.30, "

"That corroborates with the victim's statement." Lt Welsh spoke the words that froze Ray's heart; he went several shades paler.

"No. No way. Not Benny - he would never -"

"The victim described him exactly. The attack occurred 3 blocks away from Fraser's building, at the time you have stayed he left the apartment - "

"No. She's lying. I don't know why, but she's lying. Benny's too well known in the neighbourhood. This is a set up, Lt. For some reason, she's just picked on Benny - "

Lt Welsh tossed Ray the file.

"Those bruises look pretty convincing to me."

Ray opened it and was confronted by graphic photos of the victim, her flesh marred by ugly dark bruises and bite marks, her eyes wide and frightened, her face - she looked like Victoria.

Ray set the file down silently.

"Ray, " Lt Welsh used his first name softly, it made him uncomfortable. "Have you noticed anything unusual lately in Fraser's behaviour."

"Unusual as opposed to what, " Ray shot back before he could stop himself, Fraser's review and suspension over the Victoria incident still fresh in their minds, and the darkness in his soul, the taints left there by both Victoria and the vampire Lacroix.

"Has Fraser been violent, lost his temper, anything like that, " Welsh pressed, but Ray glanced away warily, saying nothing, his face stricken. He stared at the stark black and white photos again, unable to look away. No, he pleaded, not Benny. It couldn't have been Benny.

Lt Welsh stood up and walked around the desk, leaning forward to close the venetian blinds.

He came back and sat on the edge of the desk.

"Ray, I know these last couple of months have been hard on both you and Fraser. Maybe Fraser hasn't been coping, behaving oddly, he did snap at Elaine the other day."

"He was having a bad day. We all have bad days, even Fraser - "

"Even so," Lt Welsh continued in his fatherly tone.

"Ray, what you and Fraser do on your own time is you own business, but this is a police investigation. Do you realise how serious this is."

"Yes, " Ray answered glumly.

Welsh leant forward, grabbed Ray's wrist and pushed up his sleeve, exposing a series of small bruises on his forearm, bruises that looked like fingerprints.

"Then maybe you'd like to explain to me how you got these." Still leaning forward, he flicked open Ray's collar, exposing the deep purple bruising and a still livid bite mark. "And that."

"During sex with Benny. Consensual sex. " he added, scrabbling desperately to maintain his composure.

"Those marks look like just like the ones in the photos. I wonder if we measured them, whether they'd turn out the same -"

"No!" Ray cried, angry, distressed, humiliated.

"Ray, " Lt Welsh continued his quiet, even tones. "When Fraser did that to you, was it always with consent, or did he get a little bit rough with you. Has he ever gone too far, hurt you, even when you've asked him to stop?"

Ray slumped back in the chair, shellshocked, brittle, on the verge of tears, his face echoing his memory of the night Benny had torn him open, torn him up inside so bad he'd had to take 2 days off work.

Lt Welsh saw it all played out on Vecchio's face, every horrible detail relived and examined in new, cruel light. He hated this part, making the victim face the memories they so desperately wanted to forget. He stood and walked quietly around his desk to sit behind it once more. He took a pad and began scribbling down some room numbers and phone numbers on it.

"Ray, I want you to go down to the sexual crimes unit. I want the doctors to take a look at you, and record the injuries you've sustained for evidence if need be. Then I want you to go and see the psychologist there. She's dealt with male victims before. I want you to have a talk to her."

"Lieutenant --"

"That's an order, Detective."

Ray just sat there, all the fight gone from him, defeated, almost soulless.

"I'll try not to use your evidence unless I have to. Ray, if you'd seen someone about this, maybe gotten some counselling, it wouldn't have come to this --"

"Its not Ben's fault. He's been through so much --" Ray began, but trailed off. He met Lt Welsh in the eye at last. "I don't believe he would have done this."

"Nevertheless, I have to bring him in for questioning. I'll send Huey and Gardino --"

"No, let me."

Lt Welsh sized him up and down. Ray was now sitting on the edge of the chair, determined.

"Alright, " Lt Welsh agreed. "But I'm sending Huey and Gardino as back up."

He well remembered the terrible fiasco the last time they had tried to bring in Fraser, pursuing him onto the train station, Vecchio accidentally bringing down his friend with a single shot. He'd sent Vecchio to the police psychologist, but obviously, something deeply awry had been missed. Maybe he should have sent Fraser, too. The man was practically part of his squad anyway, in fact if not in name. That's what made this so difficult.

Fraser was standing guard duty at the consulate. Ray leant forward, resting his forehead on the steering wheel of the Riv, shutting his eyes as if he could make it all go away. He couldn't. He sat up again and saw Huey and Gardino pull in behind him.

He forced himself to get out of the car, his stomach feeling not just like it had fallen through the ground, but all the way to China, the hole that was about to be torn open in his heart already ugly and bleeding.

Dully, he crossed the road. Benny stared straight ahead, but Ray knew every nerve, every sense would be concentrated upon his presence.

He stood beside his friend, silent, eyes downcast, then, not looking up, he drew a breath.

"Benny, a woman has reported a rape and has described you as her assailant. I have to bring you in for questioning. Now. I don't want to cuff you. Please don't make me cuff you. You have the right to remain silent, " he began.

Fraser didn't move.

"Please, Benny. You have the right to an attorney..."

Still not registering any emotion, Fraser moved forward, one step, then another, walking almost automatically towards the car, Ray following him, reading the rest of the Miranda rights.

Huey and Gardino watched Ray and Fraser get in the Riv and drive off.

They exchanged a wordless, saddened glance and then drove off, tailing the Riv.

~~

Ray didn't think it could get much worse, but it had. By the time he got back to the precinct house with Ben, the news had come through, the girl had died from her injuries, asphyxiation from a crushed windpipe, so the report had said, the result of being strangled. The charge was now murder.

~~

Fraser sat so very quietly at the table in the interrogation room. Only someone who knew him as well as Ray did could see the emotion behind his eyes.

Mulder, Welsh and two officers from IA were questioning him in turns. Ben answered their questions politely, and, as far as Ray could tell, truthfully.

He caught his own sad reflection in the glass. Scully was expecting him in the sex crimes unit examination room.

"So you went out to buy condoms."

"Yes."

"Who for?"

Fraser looked to Welsh, who nodded solemnly.

"I was with my lover."

"Who."

"Ray."

"Detective Ray Vecchio?" pressed the IA officer.

"Yes."

"But you felt you needed some on the side,."

"No."

The IA officer glanced down at the photo, and pushed it in front of Fraser.

"She looked like Victoria Metcalfe."

Slight pause. "No, I don't believe so, " Fraser answered quietly.

The door to the second room pushed open, Gardino nodded to Ray.

"IA wants to take your statement now, Ray. I'm sorry."

Ray shrugged.

"Its okay, Louie. Just call Scully and tell her I'll be a little late, will you." He spoke so calmly, so politely, it scared Gardino, really scared him.

~~

Ray slumped down wearily in his seat, sticking his feet up on his desk.

"Rough?" asked Elaine.

"Yeah."

"They finished?"

"Conferring. This is just the interval before round two."

She was sizing him up and down; a dark frown clouded his features.

"What." he demanded.

"You and Fraser."

"Hey, I was straight until Fraser kissed me." he ignored Elaine's raised eyebrows. "But as for Fraser, who really knows. Who really knows anything. Not me, that's for sure..." his voice trailed off into an indistinct mumble.

"You think he did it?" Elaine asked, incredulous.

"I don't know, " he spoke very quietly. "I really don't know."

"Vecchio." The IA officer motioned him back into interrogation room 2.

Ray dragged himself up wearily.

"I'm getting to used to this," he sighed.

~~

Scully shut the door, effectively entrapping Ray in a white and green sterile room. He hated rooms like these, it reminded him too much of the day he had nearly lost Benny, by his own hand.

Benny. He couldn't believe he was doing this.

"If you could take off your clothes and get into that gown."

Scully waved to the green hospital gown that lay draped across the examination table without even looking at his face.

Ray half thought about ducking behind the screen to change, but what was the point. He saw the medieval, Spanish inquisition like tray of stainless steel implements, and he knew at least one of those ice cold suckers was probably going to end up his arse. Business like, he began to unbutton his shirt, pulling it open and turning around to drop it on the table. He heard Scully's sharp intake of breath, and he turned back, slowly, reluctantly, to face her. Her eyes were wide with horror, and compassion.

"Ray," was all she said. Moving close, she turned him back around, carefully, skilled fingers prodding gently at the bruises and bites.

"This one broke the skin," she observed out loud to herself, and Ray flashed on Benny's perfect white, sharp little teeth, nipping at the flesh on his back.

"Stand still. " she ordered. "I'll have to take a photograph. " she hefted up the camera. "I am sorry" she added, as an afterthought.

Good thing most of her patients were dead, thought Ray, cause her bedside manner could use a little work.

He seriously began regretting asking her to do this, as she made him strip completely naked and photographed every inch of him. A complete stranger would have been brusque and brisk, with Scully, he caught the flashes of pity in her eyes, pity for him, and it irked him. He felt weak, like a traitor, hanging his own friend by giving up himself as evidence. He had never meant to. Welsh had ordered him to.

The photoshoot was over. Scully picked up some hideous metal tool in her gloved hand. Ray tried to look away, but all he could see was it, gleaming in the sterile fluorescent light. He was kneeling in a chairlike contraption that must have seen service during the witch trials, and she was marching relentlessly towards him, without mercy. It was like a Bond film, about to be tortured for his secrets, but he had no witty comebacks, no trick escape plan, only fear and self loathing. The physical examination was about to begin.

Scully tiredly pulled off her gloves and threw them in the waste bin as Ray dressed in silence. She'd seen cases of anal rape before, but never in a man she considered a friend, and by a man she considered a gentle and kind soul. The signs were all there. Consensual or not, Ray had been violently abused. What could have made Fraser do such a thing, she didn't want to think. But she had to think, that was her job.

Ray was standing, glumly, waiting for his next order. He seemed so sick, tired and pathetic.

Scully readied everything to be sent to the lab.

"Can I give you a lift anywhere? Home?" she offered.

"I don't want to go home, " he mumbled sadly.

~~

Ray let his shirt drop to the floor. He leant on the basin, staring at his reflection in the mirror, and the bruises and deep red scratches and bites that covered his skin. Was he a masochist, that he let Benny do such things to him, inflict pain, even though he knew Benny could never mean him harm. Did he think, deep in his soul that he had deserved it. He had thought Ben would grow out of it, that it was just a phase, that eventually the vampire's taint would lessen and the darkness that stained his lover's soul would once again be banished or at least locked away from sight. He should have gotten Benny counselling, he should have done something, maybe he could have stopped it - God, was he really thinking Benny could have done such a thing. In his minds eye, he saw the terrible marks on the victims skin. And in the mirror he saw the terrible marks upon his own skin. Oh, God, Benny.

He pushed away from the mirror. Too ashamed to go home, he had asked Scully to take him somewhere, anywhere. She had tried so hard, so very hard to be gentle with him, but the examination had been a horrible, humiliating experience. He could ignore the pain, he was well practiced at that now. But the look in her eyes, the shock and sympathy, perhaps it would have been better with a complete stranger. He ran a shower and stepped under it. He couldn't feel the near scalding water, no matter how hot it was, it couldn't touch the chill inside him. He tried to scrub away the violation he felt, he felt dirty, like he hadn't bathed in days, remembering all too well how Scully had crawled over his skin for the slightest scraping, the slightest smear. That his sex life should be examined so minutely, so clinically, it made him feel ill. He sank down in the shower stall, doubled over, wanting to be ill, but only dry retching, wanting to wash away with the water, wanting everything to wash away. Tears too long denied welled up, he wept hopelessly, the salt water lost under the steady stream of the shower.

The shower had been going steady for a solid 20 minutes. Scully hadn't heard a sound, not even a splash or the quiet sound of crying. Nothing. She could feel the steam rising up from under the door, making the hotel room muggy and humid. She tried the handle, it wouldn't move, locked.

She rattled it, and then knocked." Ray?" she asked. No answer. She banged on the door more loudly. "Ray?!" she cried, her voice edging up a pitch with anxiety. "Ray, are you alright? Ray?" She knocked again, thinking desperately of whether she should get the maid or just blow the door open with her gun. "Ray!"

The door handle suddenly jerked open as the door was pulled open.

"I'm here," he answered quietly. "Did you think I'd taken a razor to my wrists?"

Scully studied the tiles rather than meet his face, "Well, yes, I was worried. You're upset, you were in there for so long,"

He shook his head. "I thought about it but I guess I'm just too good a little Catholic boy for that. And it wouldn't solve anything." He wrapped the terry towelling coat closer around his shoulders, self conscious under her gaze, never entirely sure he wasn't still under medical observation. Scully further confirmed his suspicions by offering him a couple of white tablets.

"Sedatives," she explained. "You've been through a terrible experience, you should rest." "What, and when I wake up this will all be over," he asked of her, his voice more cutting than he meant it to be. She was stung by his words, he could see it. She was treading around him like eggshells, it wasn't really fair to throw it back in her face.

She saw the regret register on his face, and placed the pills in his palm, folding his fingers over them, leaving the decision in his hands. "Stay here and rest. Ben's waiting for his lawyer to show up. There's nothing else you can do, not right now. Mulder and I will keep an eye on the case. "

Ray slid the pills in the pocket of his coat, then, having second thoughts, retrieved one and swallowed it, to Scully's evident relief. He sat down wearily on the bed. He felt wrung out.

"Can I ask you something, Scully? Have you noticed Mulder behaving oddly lately?"

"As opposed to what?" she spoke before she could stop herself.

"Wearing sunglasses all the time, being short tempered, aggressive, irritable, insisting on getting his own way all the time," he shrugged.

All of that behaviour could be attributed to Mulder, but more so lately, yes, she had to admit that. She'd written it off as stress, the drugs in the water, the death of his father, his usual paranoia. Perhaps she had been wrong. Perhaps Ray was right, the effects of the vampires attacks had been more pronounced , more prolonged than she had suspected.

"Benny's been like this?" she asked.

Ray nodded glumly.

Perhaps there was a medical explanation for Ben's behaviour after all. She would have to get a blood sample, and do a full toxicological battery of tests. She'd want a fresh sample, one that she was sure had not been tampered with. She frowned. Working with Mulder had made her overly paranoid as well, it seemed. She made Ray lie down on the bed, and pulled the sheets up around him. She glanced back to him one last time before she left, hoping he would be okay if left alone.

Mulder and Scully went over Fraser's flat with an attention to detail not even their most absorbing cases had warranted. This was for a friend. More importantly, this was Fraser. In spite of the evidence she had seen, the terrible physical evidence on Ray, Scully was having a hard time believing Ben could be capable of the act he was accused of, not without some very extenuating circumstances. She and Mulder checked the water supply to the apartment, but found nothing. She took an sample from the kitchen tap for analysis in any case. Mulder took the entire tap, but found nothing. Perhaps they had already been here and removed the evidence, his paranoia whispered to him. Scully scoured the bed, placing hair and fibres into little ziplock bags for later comparison to the forensic evidence taken from the rape victim. She was beginning to think she was feeding into Mulder's delusions, when he found the first tiny microphone, hidden behind the air grill. Redeemed, he yanked it free, not caring if 'they' knew. He wanted 'them' to know he was onto their game. He dropped it to the floor and crushed it to silicon dust under his shoe.

"They've gone after Fraser because he was either too close to something or too close to us, or both." he observed.

"What was he working on. What information were you feeding him."

"About Ray's wife. Her family, her death. The more questions we asked, the more doors shut in our face."

"Have you spoken to Skinner about this?"

"Not yet, but I will now. I want to know exactly why a Canadian consular official is being bugged in his own home, and who has done this."

"If they had Ben under surveillance, they would have known exactly when he went out and came back, and timed it perfectly.." She looked to her partner. "What do we tell Ray?"

"Nothing, yet. Not until we get a few more answers ourselves."

~~

The key felt like a dead weight in his hand, still only slightly tarnished with use. He twisted it around and pushed the door open. Diefenbaker by his side pushed past him into the flat, anxious to be home. Ray had not, could not stomach the thought of going home, of facing the spoken and unspoken questions across the dinner table. Babysitting the wolf gave him a good excuse. He locked the door securely behind him, trusting even less these days. The flat felt violated, unclean. Mulder and Scully had been discreet as possible, attempting to put everything back in its place. But there was no way they could be as intimately familiar with the place as Ray was, and everything was slightly askew, adding the already nightmarish quality of the situation. He patted down his shirt pocket and felt the sedatives he had rejected from Scully earlier that evening. He was about to swallow them with half a glass of water, then, upon feeling that the tap hadn't been exactly screwed back on again right, he decided to swallow them dry.

Dropping his shoes and belt onto the floor but not much else, he sank onto the bed, and then lay flat down on it, praying for the tablets to work instantaneously. Dief hopped onto the bed and pressed up against him, settling down, his back pressed up against Ray's rib cage, surprisingly warm and soft. Ray stroked the white fur for several minutes until his hand began to feel heavy and he knew the drugs were taking effect. Having Dief beside him was more comfort than he could ever imagine, another living creature understanding and sharing his misery. Letting his arm fall across the wolf he let his eyes close, and he slept a dreamless sleep.

~~

"Sleep okay?"

Benny just looked at him. "No, Ray." he replied.

Ray watched him languidly, leaning against the bars with a weary sensuality that Ben had never seen before. Even the way Ray trailed his long, delicate fingers along the length of the bars, up and down, in slow, bored strokes. Ben was quite sure it wasn't deliberate, but it was driving him wild.

"Anyway, " Ray continued, "They've set your bail hearing at 9.30 this morning."

Ben rose, a small grimace of pain lancing through his features.

"Back again?" asked Ray, with an almost casual disinterest.

Don't do this to me, Fraser thought. Don't block me out when I need you most.

He faced Ray through the bars, his face betraying his fear, as much as it could.

"What's going to happen to us, Ray, " he asked, quietly sad.

"We're fine." Ray sighed. He caught Ben's eyes at last. Those eyes. He leaned close, they touched, the distance closed between them and they kissed, slowly and sensuously through the bars. Ray didn't care anymore, he just didn't care. He drew away to a couple of wolf whistles from Ben's neighbour prisoners.

"Better get used to that, pretty boy, " called out one.

That brought Ray up short, it had not yet crossed his mind that someone as beautiful as Ben would be in for a hard time in gaol.

"Give you a taste of your own medicine, " he murmured.

"Ray, " Ben looked absolutely stricken. "You can't think -"

Ray shook his head to cut him off.

"I should have said something sooner, maybe I could have helped you. You hurt me, Benny. And bet you don't even remember doing it,"

Ben shook his head, eyes downcast.

"Well, I'll tell you something. Welsh made me go down to the medical examiner so he compare the bites and bruises on me to those on the victim. I got Scully to do it. It was the most humiliating experience of my life, and I've got plenty to choose from, thanks to you. If they submit that as evidence in your trial, my career is over. I'll probably have to emigrate to the territories or something."

"Ray, " Ben pleaded.

"Don't say anything without counsel present, " Ray cut him off sharply, his words cutting Ben deeper than any knife.

"Ray, I'm sorry, " Ben spoke, his voice breaking with unshed tears.

Ray let his hand drop away from the bars. "I know, " he answered quietly. "I know that you never meant to hurt me. I know that you love me. That's why this makes me so sick." He managed to look Fraser in the eyes once more, steeling himself to the distressing pain he saw deep in those eyes. "I'll be in court for your hearing. I'll see you then."

There were no words. No words could adequately cover what Ray felt, seeing Benny behind bars like this. In spite of his insistence, bail would not be set until tomorrow, requiring Ben to stay in gaol overnight. Ben just looked at him with sad, ashamed blue eyes, his face half turned away from Ray's. Ray knew how much it must hurt Ben, to be seen like this. All the pain Ray felt was lost to the pain he saw in those eyes. His hand slipped down the steel bar to where Ben clasped it, brushing his hand against Ben's. Ben looked up, the touch of fingertip to fingertip meant more to him in this one moment than anything else.

"Ray, " he started.

Sadly, Ray shook his head. "Don't talk to me. Don't say anything. I'm your friend, but I'm still a cop."

Silently, mournfully, Ben nodded and fell into a further glum decline., hunched over on his little cell cot. He felt the brush of Ray's fingers as he withdrew and walked away. Ben couldn't bring himself to look up and watch Ray leave him.

Ray turned and walked away. Benny sank down on the little cell cot, the pain in his back forgotten, overwhelmed with the anguish of his heart tearing itself apart.

~~

Ray sat in the first row of the court room seats, directly behind Benny, flanked by Mulder and Scully.

Benny was sitting straight in his chair, perfectly pressed and polished in his uniform. Ray knew Benny didn't want to do this in uniform, but he didn't have any other suits. Perhaps he should have bought him one, Ray thought belatedly, instead of swallowing Scully's pills and passing out.

Ray leant forward.

"Benny, ' he whispered.

Fraser leant back so he could hear him.

"Where's your lawyer? Shouldn't he be here?"

At that moment, the court room door swung open with a bang.

"Douglas Wambaugh for the Mountie!" announced the elderly Jewish shyster dramatically.

"Are you mad," hissed Ray in his friend's direction. "Where did you find him."

"He found me, " Fraser shrugged.

"I heard about the case while I was in the hospital, " Wambaugh answered, setting his briefcase down on the table. "Multiple Sclerosis, you know. Have to see the fancy doctors in Chicago. Don't worry, it won't affect our defence in the least. Maybe even buy us a little sympathy, " he winked.

His eyes narrowed as he spied Mulder and Scully.

"You're those FBI agents, the ones chasing aliens in Wisconsin. Well, there are no Martians in Rome Wisconsin. Frog Men, child bearing cows, but no Martians.

Mulder leant forward.

"Are you really sure about this, Ben, " he asked.

"He was all I could afford, " Fraser answered.

The judge was at first reluctant to set bail at all, agreeing with the prosecution that Fraser was a flight risk; Ray flashed back to the train station again, forever damned to relive the scene over and over again, the bullet striking Ben, like it did everytime he closed his eyes.

Wambaugh railed against the prosecution, but it did no good. Fraser's semen had been found inside the victim. Eventually, a ridiculously high amount was set. More than Ray's house and car combined, more than he could meet.

"Use my father's house, " Mulder whispered, somewhat bitterly. "Its worth a packet, and I don't want it."

~~

Ray had offered to buy him brunch, but Ben wasn't hungry. The hunting pack of press outside the courthouse had upset him as much as anything else. He just wanted to go home, to lock himself in his apartment, and never come out. Ray knew. He wanted to go home, to the Territories, and lose himself there. But that escape was beyond him now, his passport had been confiscated. He unbuttoned his coat and hung it up carefully in the cupboard. Ray touched him softly in the middle of his back, saddened to see Benny pull away ever so slightly. He turned, his face stricken. "No, " he begged. "Not here, not now. " Ray let his hand fall by his side and moved back a step. "Please, I just want to be alone." So, this was how it was going to be. Without a word, Ray turned and left his friend to his private miseries. There was a reporter camped across the street, the unhappy victim of Ray's vented spleen.

~~

Behan could see the man hunch forward in the confessional, struggling with inner demons.

"I didn't kill that girl, if that's what you're worried about. " came the voice, unnaturally hoarse.

Behan raised his eyes to heaven in silent thanks. For that is precisely what he had feared had drawn the young man to this church on this day.

"But I did hurt Ray."

"Hurt him, how, " the priest asked, though he already knew. Ray had broken down, weeping, in the confessional box that morning.

"Oh, physically, emotionally, spiritually, ' the man sighed wearily, bowing his head.

"I was too violent, too rough in our love making."

"Did you rape him?"

The head snapped up, eyes narrowing.

That was a slip. Behan cursed himself.

"Ray withdrew consent. I didn't stop. So yes, it was rape."

"Why didn't you stop?"

"I couldn't. " The voice caught. "It was like a madness. a hunger. I gave into the beast. I wanted, I needed..." the voice trailed away.

"You must learn to control those hungers, to curb the temptation."

"I can't."

"You must."

"Its like I'm someone else, watching me..."

"Ray blames the vampire bites."

The head raised again.

"Do you think that's what it is, father?"

It was Biehan's turn to bow his head.

"I don't know, " His mind flashed back to the 70s, the blocked them out. He'd been young and foolish then, fallen in with a bad crowd. He couldn't trust that memory.

"Ben, I don't think the confessional is the place for this."

"I know you can't forgive me."

"That's not what I meant. Stay. In want to speak to you in my study. Together, maybe we can beat this"

"I don't think so, Father."

"At least let me try and help you."

The handsome head bowed again in resignation.

They emerged from the confessional in unison, but Ben was still skittish. He glanced around the Church, as though the very architecture pricked at his nerves.

"I'm sorry, Father, I can't ..." he began.

"Then at least take this."

Biehan grabbed his hand, thrusting his cross into it.

Ben winced and dropped the cross, holding his hand painfully.

Biehan could not help but stare horrified at the burn mark the cross had left upon Ben's skin.

Ben followed his eyes, darkly amused.

"I guess this proves I'm beyond redemption, " he offered, shrugging.

Biehan was too shaken to do anything but let him walk.

Later, in his study, he pushed the memory away, closing the old book he had been sifting through with contempt. Seeing the mark of the cross burned into Ben's flesh, the years and miles had just dropped away. Downtown Chicago , as far away from Belfast as he dared, yet still in the confines of western civilisation. Safe, soulless civilisation. Damn, he'd never wanted to see anything like that ever again. A young stupid priest, a drunken poet and charming, dangerous rogue. God, how he wished he could forget.

Ben walked along the dark streets from the Church to his apartment alone, head bowed, hands deep in his pockets.

He stepped off the curb without looking, not that it would have done him any good if he had.

The car squealed to a stop several metres down the road, then reversed, sliding to a halt beside where Ben lay, sprawled from where he had landed.

The driver got out of the car slowly, walked around the car and squatted beside him, curious rather than concerned.

He tilted the head sideways carelessly, and saw Ben attempt a swallow.

"Still alive? You should be one of us, " he grinned.

Showing scant disregard for proper first aid procedures, he picked Ben up awkwardly, grabbing him under the armpits, dragging him to the car and hauling him into the back seat like a roll of carpet.

He slammed the door and got back into the driver's seat. He observed his handiwork in the rear view mirror and his handsome face creased into a grin again. He wasn't driving Ben to a hospital.

~~

Angelo stooped and picked up the abandoned stetson, playing with it absently, running the brim through his fine fingers.

"You really hate that guy, don't you, Angel, " observed Krychek.

Angelo cast him a look of cold contempt .

Angel was short for Angel of Death, a nickname bestowed upon him from the number of kills he had made, aside from his given name. He had served his apprenticeship as a hitman for the family, before being recruited by the Government. He worked alone, but his superiors, even though they accorded him a wary deference, had insisted upon assigning him a partner for this particular assignment, should any uncharacteristic emotions or loyalties suddenly surface. Rumour had it that the government had burned out the parts of his brain that involved kindness and mercy, in truth, those parts had been burned out long ago.

He opened up the car door and threw the stetson inside, sliding behind the drivers wheel. Krychek scrambled into the passenger seat, lest he be left standing on the sidewalk again, under orders not to let the Angel out of his sight, not even for a second.

~~

"You'll speak for him, won't you, Father?" Ray dogged the priest's heels as he walked down the church. "You know, as a character witness, to say there's no way in the world that Benny could have done this."

Father Behan stopped, and turned, sadly.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Ray." he replied.

Ray pulled up short, dumbstruck, confused, then suspicious, finally, a pained incredulity dawned.

"Did he confess something to you, Father?" Ray accused.

"Now, you know, son, I can't tell you that."

"Oh God, he said something, didn't he. Oh God."

Ray slumped down into a pew, no longer having the strength to stand. He slumped forward, not in prayer, but in utter hopelessness.

"Is this our punishment for sinning against God?" he asked, muffled and tearful.

Behan patted his back softly, and sat down beside him.

"No, Ray, I don't believe so. Benton, " he paused, trying to frame the words in his mind. "Benton is a very troubled young man. I doubt whether even the power of prayer would help him, though I am honour bound to recommend it."

"You mean he's mad, " Ray sniffled.

"More than that. Something very dark has touched his soul. I'm afraid for him. And I'm afraid for you, Ray."

Ray glanced up. "You mean he's possessed? Oh, that's just great." But Behan's face stopped his tongue. He sat up properly.

"You're serious. Well, there was that vampire thing."

"Did it bite him."

"Several times, Father."

Behan clasped his hands and looked towards the plaster figure of his saviour. "I was afraid of that."

"What can we do?"

"Nothing. It may already be too late." He placed his hand over the Detective's. "Be careful, Ray. There are forces at work here you don't understand."

"I thought the modern church didn't go for that sort of thing, Father."

"Yes, but the modern church hasn't seen the darkness people are capable of. I have. Just be careful, Ray."

~~

The immortal snapped shut the handcuffs, testing the chain that held them to the wall. Not bad for a day's improvisation. As a boy, he'd always wanted a dungeon. Now he'd converted his wine cellar to one. The real estate agent had been most helpful in finding him a house with a nicely soundproofed, dug well into the ground cellar. A short trip to the handy mart had provided him with the raw materials to equip his play ground. Some men played pool. He preferred other pursuits.

He crouched down again to examine his captive's face. He was a pretty one. That was an unexpected bonus. He grabbed the dark hair, twisting the face to the light of the single fluorescent tube suspended above them.

"They tell me you're his best friend. In fact, some even whispered that you're his lover." he snarled. He let the head fall back savagely. "Well, we'll see about that. We'll see how well Ray likes you dead." He chuckled, hideously. "After all, he seemed so broken up when that little slut died."

But his captive failed to respond, still unconscious, breathing slightly wheezily, but still breathing. Blood had run and dried in a flaking trail from his nose, staining down his blue checked flannel shirt.

~~

Ray stood in front of the window, his usual position, his back to the police psychologist.

"I think I made a mistake, kissing Benny. I wanted to, you know. I was curious. I wanted to know what it was like. It was good, too good. But it was too quick. We went from best friends to lovers so fast, without thinking of the consequences."

"What consequences."

"All the shit, the sexual politics that goes on when you're sleeping together. The jealousy, the selfishness, the bad is as intense as the good. Its poisoning what we had."

"Is that why you think he raped you?"

Ray half turned from the window.

"Rape? That wasn't rape. It just got out of control."

"He hurt you."

"He didn't mean it. Benny, " he sighed. "I don't think Benny ever even masturbates, you know? He's so locked up. He's been hurt, he was alone, he was almost emotionally shut down. its partially my fault, I guess. When we're intimate, I push all Benny's buttons. He doesn't have much self control when it comes to sex, not once his motor's running. He just loses it, overloads, burns out. He never remembers. I get him all fired up, and he doesn't know when to stop."

"You don't tell him to stop?"

Ray turned back to the window.

"I guess I learnt from an early age how to lie down, bite the pillow and take it."

He let out a breath.

"You know, Benny's the first person I've ever let penetrate me."

"Do you feel he's betrayed your trust?"

"No, not really, " he spoke[oke quietly. "I love him. He's all I've got, ' His voice dropped away to a whisper. "I'd do anything to keep him."

~~

Scully pulled the desk lamp closer, studying the forensic photographs they had taken of the scratches on Fraser's skin. She had spread them on the table, but had given up trying to match the scratches to the victim, caught instead by the marks upon his throat. The photo was quite clear, but she couldn't believe it. Two neat puncture marks, high on his throat. That was what was puzzling her. They were new, but they lacked the puckering she usually associated with vampire bites, the coagulating enzyme in their saliva that closed and scabbed over the wounds if the victim was intended to survive. She couldn't believe this, she caught herself, she was becoming a forensic expert on vampire bites. She measured her own eye teeth with two fingers, and then measured the length against the photograph. The placement was two close, at the wrong angle, too high, it looked wrong. At first she's been shocked, thinking Ben had been attacked by Lacroix again, thinking that was the reason for his own attack. But now she wasn't so sure. Ben had been attacked, but by what?

The fax machine hummed into action , Scully glanced down as she pressed her phone to her ear. "Natalie, its going through now." It was a long shot, but there was only one other medical colleague she knew of who had made a formal study of vampires, or one in particular. Scully glanced at her watch, unable to see the sky in the windowless Coroner's office, noting that it was past sunset, Toronto time, knowing that he would be there.

She heard voices, a male voice, raised yet the phone barely caught it.

"I think you're right, Dr Scully, " Natalie concurred. "It looks too neat, from what I've seen. And too small-"

A male voice came on the line. "This is Detective Knight,"

Scully had expected this, but to know she was talking to a vampire, a real actual vampire, on the other end of the phone still chilled her to the bone, cop or no, something primal in her reacted to his preternatural , softly accented voice.

"It wasn't Lacroix, if that's what you're thinking. He was on air last night."

"Are you sure it wasn't a tape?"

The voice came softer now, more seductive. "He was there, I heard him, in my mind, felt his presence, he was here, in Toronto, Dr Scully."

"So it wasn't a vampire."

"I didn't say that, Dr Scully,"

"You don't mean there's another vampire in Chicago who's decided to take a bite out of Constable Fraser?"

"He is marked, and therefore known to our kind,"

"Great, " muttered Scully, wondering what that meant for Mulder as well.

"However, " Knight's voice came again, more human sounding, his cop voice, "To me it looks fake, as though someone wanted to make it look like a bite. I've seen it before, and it looked just like that, clean, no whiteness around the edges. The angle is wrong, too. Unless the vampire held him down and came at him sideways, " she could hear his shrug.

"So we're not dealing with a monster,"

She could feel his withdrawal, she was sorry, she had not meant to say that, to hurt him, but an apology was useless.

His voice remained friendly, taking it in his stride. "It depends, what kind of a monster fakes a vampire bite?"

He had a point. And why would any one bother?

She decided to redo the toxicology on Fraser's blood sample. What if the intention had not been to remove blood, but to slip something into his blood stream. Something that would affect his behaviour, making him act so out of character.

~~

Mulder absently flicked through the scrapbook he'd compiled on Macleod.A collection of xeroxed police reports from around the world, dockets, documents, photographs and old clippings, it looked more like a homage to a pop star or actor than an FBI agent's dossier, or one of the legendary X Files.

What he had was a record of the life and times of a man who was more than one hundred years old, and held his age very well. Like his files on Nicholas Knight, it contained the records of several identities, all with the one face. Yet this man had been seen in the sun, with his own eyes he'd seen this man walk in he daylight. He was no vampire, or certainly like no vampire he'd ever encountered . Yet this time when he'd asked his friend Gloria for information, she'd refused him, and Glori so rarely refused him anything. She knew something, something she didn't want to share with him. And worse, she knew Macleod.

Macleod had been in London , when they'd all been in London. And he'd been in Paris, too. Mulder shut the book. He hadn't been in Paris. Not then. Not in 84. Old wells of guilt and jealousy surged up. Macleod had been with a young blonde woman then, Gloria's age then, but not Gloria. He had a picture of Macleod and the woman, the late Tessa Noel. But he had been there, then. Just a friend, Glori had told him. Just a friend. He covered his eyes with his hands. This case was getting way too personal and messy,.

~~

"How old were you, " the staff pyschologists asked again quietly, her voice one of careful neutrality.

"I was 11" Ray replied dully, staring out of the window. He was getting too used to the scene outside that little square of glass.

"How does that make you feel, " she pressed.

"Pissed off, I guess" he answered somewhat fliply. Then he looked back at her. She didn't deserve his withering sarcasm. He sat forward. "I'm sorry. I guess like to use an attitude as a defence. I know what you're thinking, that this stuff with Benny has brought it all back up to the surface again. Maybe you're right. You now , I thought I saw him, Manny, on the street the other day. It scared me."

"Why?"

Ray leant back in his chair again. "I don't know, because I don't want to remember, none of it, because I think I'm going mad, just like Benny."

"What do you mean?"

"He sees things, hears things, his father's ghost, stuff like that, " Ray shrugged.

"Really? For how long?"

"Since last Xmas. Sometimes I think I'm buying into it. "

"That can happen, " mused the psychologist. "

"Thanks, you're such a help." Ray muttered snarkily.

"I'm trying to be, Ray. You've revealed several very traumatic episodes in your life to me. It is not unusual for traumas like these to leave scars, stress. Ray, are you familiar with repressed memory syndrome?'

"Yeah. Mulder mentioned it once or twice. You think that's what's happening, because I'm remembering?"

"It could be. Sometimes these memories are distorted, like hallucinations, memories of child abused mistakenly remembered as alien abductions, "

Ray smiled, amused, much to her perplexion.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I have a friend who believes in abductions. But the more I hear about his father, the more I worry, maybe he's repressed a memory or two."

"His father. What made you think of that, Ray."

"Nothin', " he answered defensively. "So, do you think what Manny did to me is what made me gay?"

The Psychologist took a slow breath. "Only you can know that Ray. The jury is still out on environment versus biology, I'm sorry. Is your sexuality a problem for you?"

"No. Yes. A little. I was married to a girl, now I'm living with a guy. I guess I'm a little confused."

"Maybe you're bisexual, had you considered that?"

"I guess I am, " he mused.

He turned and looked out of the window again.

"Do you want to talk about Benton?" she asked.

"No ." he answered firmly.

She marked her folder, deciding not to press it at this stage.

~~

Ray remembered. He remembered his cousin Manny who had visited one summer, from the east. Ray had been about 11, or so. Manny had been on college vacation, staying with his aunt and uncle. Ray had followed him around like a puppy. He hero worshipped his elder cousin, and could hardly believe that Manny flattered him to allow Ray to tag along. Manny had lavished affection upon him, taking him to the movies, to ball games. It had been the best summer of his life. Then one lazy afternoon, he and Manny had been playing basketball, His aunt and Uncle were out again, on business. Ray was still too young, too naive to yet know what sort of business they dealt in. Manny had invited Ray to take a shower. Ray had gratefully accepted the opportunity to wash off the sweat of the sticky humid afternoon and the blood from the slight graze on his knee from where Manny had fowled him, knocking him to the ground and falling on top of him. He felt the shower door open, and began to turn, confused, but Manny's hand on his shoulder stayed him. He felt Manny begin to soap his back, and it felt good. He good feel Manny, pressing up close against him, so close, flesh pressing against flesh, a hardness rubbing against his backside. It had felt good. He hadn't moved, not that he could have if he'd wanted to. Manny had turned him around, his eyes lazy and dilated. Slowly, so slowly, he had soaped down Ray's from until he came to Ray's genitals. These he began to wash very carefully, in long, slick strokes. Ray let him, it felt so good. Then Manny had told him to to the same to him. Ray had obeyed, following Manny's every instruction, even taking it in his mouth, surprised at the salty taste. Manny was hard and deep purple now. He turned his young cousin around again, facing him towards the shower wall, pushing underneath the stream of blood warm water he pushed soapy fingers inside him. Ray squirmed, uncomfortable , the lost in the sensation as Manny wiggled, expertly. Ray made soft gasping noises, which served only to inflame his cousin more. Manny pressed Ray's little body against the wall pinned with his own, the tip of his penis burrowing into the tiny orifice. It hurt so bad, Ray couldn't make a sound, couldn't scream, couldn't cry. Later, he realised why Manny had chosen the shower instead of the bed, to wash away the semen and the blood.

He was Manny's after that. It was their secret, upon pain of death, and he would have been a fool not to believe his cousin. Beneath that winning smile was a cold, mean streak, a mean streak that seemed to run in the blood of all the men in his family.

Ray had grown sullen and unresponsivesive after that summer. Not even his father's beatings could really bother him anymore. That and the fact that Ray was growing to big to be beaten. He was withdrawn at school, until the scars of that summer faded. He wondered if his near desperate heterosexuality afterwards had been just that, desperate. Maybe Manny had known, or made him what he was. Whatever, he'd been raped by his male lover, and all those old feelings had returned. Nightmares he hadn't had since he was a kid haunted him, made him wake in a sweat, without Fraser beside him. And now he had seen Manny in a city street. He was going mad. He was sure of it.

~~

Carter raced in and slapped the report down in front of Scully.

"The Mountie didn't do it!" he announced, proud and convinced of his findings. They'd snubbed him on the alien DNA investigation, but now he had found something they had missed. Wambaugh had, reluctantly, asked for his second opinion. Carter had leapt at the chance to show the Federal agents what he could do.

"The semen in the vagina, it wasn't fresh. I mean, I think they got it out of a used condom. I examined the semen residue and found traces of lubricant, spermicide and latex powder, exactly the same as you'd find on a condom. They must have gotten the semen out of a disposed condom and inserted it into the vagina of the alleged victim."

Scully looked up, alternating expressions of 'who the hell is this guy' to 'my god how did I miss that' playing across her face.

Carter looked up at Scully, brightly expectant, waiting for the praise that wasn't going to be forthcoming. No matter, he had further aces up his sleeve.

"I also re-examined his blood work, and I found highly elevated serotonin levels, which would explain the violent sexual urges. Something has been blocking his body's ability to break down serotonin."

Poor Ray, thought Scully, living with a human time bomb.

She looked across the desk to Carter at last.

"Have you shown this report to anyone else?"

"Yes." he smiled brightly, "You're partner Agent Mulder."

Scully's forehead furrowed into a frown.

~~

Fraser slowly eased the piece of wire through his finger tips, up into the lock of the handcuffs. His brow furrowed, concentrating, knowing he must be concussed because it was so hard to stay focused. He wriggled the bit of wire back and forth, praying that this would work, almost not believing it when the cuffs swung open. Quickly he repeated the exercise on his other wrist, freeing himself.

He pulled himself up to his feet, clutching at the walls when everything swayed, blood pounding in his head.

Forging on regardless, he headed blindly up the stairs, grabbing the rail one hand over the other, pulling himself up as waves of nausea threatened to overwhelm him. He made it to the top, feeling like he'd reached the summit of K2, and ploughed on down the corridor, having no idea where he was, but knowing that he didn't want to be here.

He never saw where the baseball bat had come from, he only knew of it as it slammed into his ribs. He fell to the floor, doubled over, gasping for breath, coughing up blood, hugging his chest, when the bat slammed into him again. He cried out, screaming.

His tormentor stood above him, swinging the bat smugly through the air like he'd just scored a homer.

"Going somewhere?" he asked. "I don't think so. I haven't finished with you yet."

He leant down and grabbed Fraser's jeans by the belt loop, kneeling to straddle him, fumbling underneath him for the zipper, opening it.

Fraser whimpered as he felt his jeans pulled down.

"I'm going to teach you the proper respect. No one runs out on me. No one," he hissed into Fraser's ear.

Fraser choked on his scream as he was impaled, tearing open at the unwanted penetration.

~~

Ray slowed the Riv, pulling close to the curb, realising that he did indeed recognise the young man trudging along the sidewalk. He was the one in those photos Mulder had shown him. The guy in the videos who had died on a race track in France, yet shown up on a 7-11's video monitor in the States, alive, four months later.

The guy must have eyes in the back of his head, or the finely honed cop alert of a confirmed criminal, cause he suddenly realised Ray was pulling up behind him, and started to break into a run.

"Hold it!" Ray burst from his car, gun ready.

The guy turned, looked annoyed more than anything else, and reached under his coat.

"I said hold it!" Ray repeated.

Suddenly the guy was holding a sword, and holding it like he knew how to use it.

The whole scene seemed to slide into slow motion. The sword wielding maniac coming at him, Ray firing once, twice, the woman, diving in front of him as he fired for the third time. She went down with the bullet, pulling him with her, toppling off the side of the bridge, down onto the packed earth below.

Groaning, Ray sat up. At least that medieval bastard had gone. But the girl who lay beside him was dead. Shooting a civilian, brilliant, he thought, not really taking it in. Gingerly, he rolled her over, brushing the hair from her face. He snatched his hand back, as if stung.

"Terri?" he whispered. It wasn't possible. She was dead, buried. He leant forward and touched her experimentally. She was warm, real, not a figment of his imagination.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. She smiled up at him.

"Hi, Ray, " she breathed.

Ray squeaked and scuttled backwards as she sat up.

"Ray?"

"Stay away from me, " he panicked, fingering his cross. "That's twice I've seen you die. Are you some sort of vampire?"

"Vampire? Don't be silly. There are no such things. I'm an immortal. I can't die, unless I lose my head."

"Uh huh, " was all Ray could say, nodding numbly.

She moved closer to him, but he backed away, to her evident disappointment.

"I never knew, until I died, and I didn't stay dead. I had to hide. There were men from the Government after me, they wanted me, because of what I was. I've been on the run ever since. But I had to come back to Chicago, I had to see you. I never stopped loving you." she implored him. He knew it was her. Just knew.

Ray closed the distance between them, gathering her up in his arms, kissing her sensuously, his thumbs brushing her cheeks as he cupped her face in his hands, his tongue sliding into her warm mouth, exploring the long denied but never forgotten familiar tastes and sensations.

She threw her keys onto the table in the hall, taking his hand she led him into the bedroom. He swept her close, and they kissed again.

"I can't believe it, " he murmured.

"Sssh, " she hushed him, warning him not to break the spell. She grabbed his shirt tails and yanked it up over his head. She stepped back for a moment, shocked at the terrible marks on her husband.

"Who did this -- Benton? Benton did this?"

"Yes, " Ray answered in a small voice, not meeting her eyes.

"I'll kill him. " she promised.

"Yeah, if you can find him," Ray shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

She slid her arms around his shoulders protectively.

"Ray, how could you let him do this to you."

"I don't know. I guess I learnt how to take a beating real young."

"Ray, oh, my dear Ray. You don't deserve to be treated that way."

So tenderly, she reached up and brushed her lips to his, then touched her lips to the bruises up on his throat, across his shoulder, she pushed him back towards the bed, kissing the bruises down his arm, her tongue delicately lapping at the discoloured marks. She was going to kiss it all better.

He shimmied up onto the bed, pulling her with him. She lay across him, her hair falling forward, tickling the hairs on his chest.

"I love you," he sighed, his hazel green eyes lost in the sight of his beloved wife's face, so close to his.

~~

Mulder flipped open his mobile phone in answer to it's annoying beep.

"Mulder." he answered perfunctorily.

"Mulder, its Scully, " answered his partner, holding up the vial of Fraser's blood to the light, disbelieving.

"I just got the toxicology results on Ben's blood test back from the lab. Mulder, there were traces of several drugs, atropine for one, abnormal levels of serotonin, and something the lab couldn't identify - Mulder - its purity control."

Mulder stared at the phone.

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. Its very similar, too similar. Its some sort of virus, but unstable. It breaks down when exposed to light. And Mulder, I've been shown something very like this before."

"I see, " answered Mulder, realising she didn't want to discuss it over the phone, but taking her meaning. Dr Lambert's work.

Mulder ended the call and slipped his phone away. Purity control. It was known to cause violent, psychotic behaviour in the cases he had seen. That explained Ben's behaviour. But it didn't get him off the hook.

~~

Ray let out a breath slowly.

"I don't know what's up with Benny. He's always been a little weird, lately, its just been escalating exponentially. He had a very lonely childhood, " he added, by way of an excuse.

"Mmmm," said Terri, not sounding terribly convinced, slowly circling his nipple with her fingertip. "You really think it's because of the vampire bite?"

"A little. I think it was the key that opened the door. Benny's been locking everything down since he was a child. It just comes out now. I don't think he means it. I think he's just so afraid of losing me, it just comes out in a rage."

"That's no excuse. You shouldn't take it,"

"Lying down?" he finished for her, a wistful smile on his face. He rolled on top of her.

"I guess not." he smiled. "He never remembers. I guess I'm just used to the abuse."

He lowered himself down and kissed her.

"Don't , " she whispered.

"Don't what, " he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Don't ever sell yourself short." She reached up, running her fingers across his hair. "You are the most wonderful, beautiful man in the whole world, " she smiled.

Ray leant on one elbow, watching over her, love glowing in his eyes.

"You don't approve of Frasier, do you? I was kind of hoping you would have liked him."

"As a friend? I thought he was good for you, though I thought he used you quite a bit. But as a lover, well, that development surprised me. I don't like the fact that he's beaten you. You don't deserve that, Ray. He's not Ma..."

He placed a finger over her lips, silencing her before she spoke the name.

"You're the only person I ever told about that, " he reminded.

"Its still wrong, Ray. People who love each other don't do that."

"Maybe they do, " he sulked, and she knew there was little reasoning with him in one of his self pitying moods.

~~

"Agent Mulder, " Lieutenant Welsh leaned grimly out of his office. "I just got off the phone with Traffic. They just brought in a car they found abandoned on the street. a 1971 Buick Riviera, green."

The file in Mulder's hands wilted.

~~

Teresa snuggled against her husband, burrowing her face in the hollow of his throat.

"Mmm, still the same aftershave, " she breathed. "You haven't changed."

"Oh yeah? I had hair when we were married, " he reminded.

"Oh that, I hardly noticed."

"You noticed, " he bitched fondly.

"It doesn't matter. You're going to get old and die on me anyway. I have to face that. I thought it would be kinder to stay away, but I was a fool. I squandered good years we could have had together. I'm not going to waste another second with you." She raised her head so she could see his eyes. "I am going to savour every moment with you, because I know, as long as I live, I will never, ever love anyone else as much as I love you."

He touched her cheek fondly. "I know."

~~

"Mulder, what are you looking for, " demanded Scully wearily as she watched him crawl up and over the site where Ray's car had been found.

"I won't know, " answered Mulder, digging into the concrete highway pylon with his penknife. "Until I find it." With a self satisfied smile, he extracted the stubbed remains of a bullet.

He handed it to Scully. "Match that against Ray's gun. Should be on file. "

"Why, what will it prove."

"That he took a shot at whoever he was meeting here."

"That doesn't necessarily rule out Fraser."

"No, it doesn't, " he agreed reluctantly. "But it means he didn't just disappear. "Mulder scanned the horizon angrily. "I've got a headless corpse, a man who is dead in France and two missing people."

"Ill take this back to the lab, " Scully offered. "Where will you be?"

"With Ray's mother, " he answered glumly.

~~

Ray sat up excitedly.

"We could run away together, you and me. Somewhere where they could never find us. Anywhere in the world. Anywhere except Canada, " he added.

"You're crazy, " she laughed.

He pulled his badge out of his discarded trousers and threw it, uncaring, on the dresser.

"No, I'm not, " he answered her seriously.

"Okay, " she agreed.

"I'll have to get my passport, " he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"No need. I can get one for you."

He swallowed his surprise. Of course she'd know all about fake documents. It'd be the honeymoon they'd never had.

~~

Mrs Vecchio opened the door to only one pale, serious man in black upon her doorstep.

"Agent Mulder?" she asked.

"Can I come in?"

Mrs Vecchio stepped aside to allow him to enter, his dour demeanour making her more and more distressed.

"Its Raymundo, something about Raymundo -"

"We found his car, abandoned in the street."

She crossed herself. He should have expected that, but still he found himself flinching involuntarily.

"I thought you should be told, in person."

"Thank you. " She patted his shoulder.

"I don't want to worry you, Mrs Vecchio, but if you should hear anything, if he should call here, please, call his precinct, or me, " He handed her his card.

"Do you think he is alive, Agent Mulder?" she found herself asking.

"I believe so, " he found himself answering.

~~

Teresa and Ray left the chemist hand in hand, each clutching their little strip of passport photos, giddy and giggling like a couple of kids with a big secret.

An unkempt youth, shaking on the way down, knocked into them before staggering into the chemist behind them. Ray didn't even notice, let alone tell the guy where to get off. He only had eyes and ears for one person.

Teresa smiled, resting in the doorway of the kitchen, breathing in the aroma. Ray glanced up at her and almost dropped what he was doing.

"Am I making you nervous?"

"No. I just haven't done this for a while."

She left the doorway, surprised, disappointed. "You don't cook? Anymore?"

"No. I guess not."

"Oh, Ray, " she hugged him softly, then , began nuzzling at the nape of his neck, lapping at his smooth olive skin.

"Stop that, it tickles, " he laughed. She laughed softly in his ear and began chewing on his ear lobe.

"I'll ruin dinner. Do you want your pasta all soggy."

"No, I prefer mine...firm, " she purred.

He grinned, giving in. "So, do you want sex before, during or after dinner."

"Oh, all of the above."

He said nothing, just smiled his silky smile as he turned down the heat on the stove.

"Well, we'd better set the table, " he grinned, slyly, lifting her up to perch her on the old wooden table.

"What are you up to, " She asked, as he knelt before her, slipping her sandals from her feet and kissing them so softly. He moved from her toes, to her arches, her ankles, her calves, the soft inner flesh of her thighs. He reached up and slid her panties away.

"Oh, you wicked boy, " she sighed, as he kissed her, drinking deep of her essence, licking and teasing.

She clutched at his shoulders, tearing at his shirt collar, she screamed as she came. He stood and pushed her back against the table, pulling open the top buttons on her dress to suckle at her breasts, to lick softly at her throat.

"Ray, " she murmured.

Gathering some of her senses, she pushed him back a little, , pulling open his belt, dragging the zipper down. She freed his already swollen manhood, and bent to kiss it. Her touch was so like Benny's; and so unlike. He felt himself aroused, whether in spite of that or because of it, he knew not. He drew her up to kiss her again, and, moving her back against the table, rising up over her, sliding into her. She was hot, warm, female, and he loved her.

The cloth of her dress stuck damply to her shoulder, wet from his breath. He lay on top of her, still breathing hard. Senseless for the moment, as helpless and vulnerable as a new born babe suckling at her. The sadness stabbed at her again, that she would never have a child with this man.

"Hey, " he caught her look of sharp sadness, knowing it.

He kissed her softly sweetly. "No regrets, " he murmured.

~~

Scully's first duty was to the very fresh corpse lying warm, bleeding, still clutching its sword upon the ground.

Mulder suddenly pricked up, sliding a glance to the lone figure now approaching them.

"I was wondering when you'd get here. All our trails led to the same place," he smiled breathlessly.

"Who is she," Scully demanded, brittle ice in her voice, noticing Mulder's attention has shifted from the crime scene to the pretty young blonde he was talking to.

"Scully, meet Inspector Ravenswood, Scotland Yard. She's tracking stolen antiquities. Swords."

"Whatever," muttered Scully, snapping on her latex gloves for a better look at the body.

Gloria seemed oblivious to the body, walking in a circle around it with her arms outstretched, her fingers, hair and clothes seemed alive as if in a breeze.

"Mulder!" she spun around, exhilarated, "the energy that was released here, can't you feel it."

He shook his head, shuffling broken glass with his shoe.

"No. But I can see the widespread damage. Something caused this. Not a fight, on a hit. Its like a mini tornado ripped through here."

He waited her for a moment. Her pupils were dilated, like she was drunk on it.

"This was an old one," She whispered, answering his thoughts. What waste. To lose a man who was probably witness to the Roman Empire. What he could have told us, of our history."

"That's the historian in you speaking." grinned Mulder.

She spun around, teasing.

"Better than the nutty psychic - Fox! No!" she cried out as he read up to the metal door frame.

She was blinded by the blue white flash. She blinked, and Mulder was lying on the ground, several metres away.

Both Scully and Gloria reached him as one.

"He's not breathing - there's no pulse." There was a brittleness in Dana's voice. They pulled his tie off, opening his shirt. Dana pressed down on his chest as Gloria covered his mouth with hers, breathing in rhythm.

Until Dana set back, exhausted, wiping tears away with the back of her hand.

"Its no use." she whispered. "He's gone,"

"No, not yet."

Gloria cradled him in her arms, slipping her hand inside his shirt, over his heart.

"Mulder , come back to us," she pleaded. She closed her eyes and bowed her head, almost as if in prayer.

"Come on, Mulder. How can you finish your work. If you go now." she goaded. And then, in a barely perceptible hiss, " Mulder, please."

Dana held her breath. She must have held it too long because she thought she saw soft light sparking over Gloria, and then Mulder. When she breathed in and blinked, it vanished.

Mulder was no longer still and limp in Gloria's arms, but breathing softly. He nuzzled against her before opening his eyes, painfully, blinked by the dull light inside the warehouse.

He looked up with Gloria, with what almost seemed like awe.

"Where was I. Did I die?"

"Not quite. But close. Very close. But you know I would have gone there for you."

"Like Orpheous." he rasped.

"Uh huh," she nodded.

"It was beautiful,"

"You can get there again in your dreams. You needn't try to die to get there," she chastised .

He's having past trauma delusions." interrupted Scully.

Gloria shot her a silencing look.

Scully fell silent. Mulder had been dead. But Ravenswood's faith had somehow seemed to reach out and snatched him back. No. He must have been in shock. Perhaps her touch, her voice had roused him. No matter. In her arms, his heart had begun to beat again. And his experience, whether he called it a dream or not, would haunt him.

After a while, he was able to sit up again. He looked around. The warehouse seemed to have become colder, darker.

Satisfied he was okay, if a little stunned, Scully stood, realising that this left him alone with that blonde, but really having no choice.

"You look awful, Mulder. I'm going to bring the car around. You should go back to the hotel room."

"Thanks, but I feel fine, really," he managed a half smile.

As Scully swished away, trenchcoat floating behind her, Gloria straightened, feeling an eerie pricking down her spine.

Mulder saw that look and fumbled for his gun, knowing what it meant. It meant trouble. Their own brand of trouble.

But he wasn't prepared for the tall, dark haired man emerging from the shadows, moving so quickly, holding Mulder at a standoff before Mulder had a chance to fire.

Mulder was as white as a sheet, but the hand holding his gun was steady, and directly at Macleod who stood over him with his sword at his throat.

"Mulder, don't," Gloria pleaded. "You're bullets won't hurt him."

"What, he's got wings like a shield of steel?"

"No, he's immortal. You'll only piss him off. The only way you can kill him is with a ritual beheading."

"Okay, you still carry that pocket knife of yours?

They stayed there, one man on the ground, holding up his gun to the man who held a sword pointed down at his throat.

"Duncan," Gloria appealed to the other. "Don't kill him, please. You were a cop once, please understand, he was just doing his job. He won't expose you, he can't. His superiors must already know of your kind. They'll suppress his report. He was just doing his job, Duncan. He's curious and stubborn, and he tracked you down. But he's not a watcher. He's just a cop doing his job. Please, Duncan. You've changed so much, you're scaring me."

He glanced at her at last.

"Don't," she whispered.

He flashed back, 15 years ago, London, undercover, a blonde teenaged moppet.

Duncan lowered his sword, and Mulder's exhaled breath was audible.

"What will the report say."

"Mulder can lie. We never found the killer. You can lie, can't you, Mulder."

Self preservation overrode ethics, and he nodded.

"Will they believe you."

"Does it matter?" asked Gloria.

Her hand closed over his hand which still held the sword tightly.

"Thank you, Duncan."

His dark eyes studied her.

"You've got to learn to trust mortals again, Mac. Not all of us are out to kill you. Some of us are just curious, and some of us would be your friends."

He sheathed his sword with a sigh. Some of his old warmth seemed to return to his eyes.

"I know that, Glori. I had a life, and the Watchers took that away from me. Now, I live like a hunted man, from my own kind and the Watchers. I never wanted to kill anyone. It was self defence."

Mulder had found it within himself to stand.

"Who are these people you call the Watchers?"

"An order, once part of the Talamasca. Except some of them don't just watch - they kill. They killed my oldest friend, and...they killed my lover."

Gloria could see everything Duncan said being filed away for future reference in Mulder's eyes.

"Mulder, let it drop. These murders were not the work of one man, nor an organised group. That much is truth. Your investigation is inconclusive. We know nothing about the immortals and the Watchers other than their existence, so that is a half truth. That will be our report. Is that satisfactory, Duncan?"

MacLeod nodded, not meeting her eyes. He was saddened, by the loss of trust, the irreparable damage to what had been a valued friendship.

He turned, and began to walk away, head bowed.

"Duncan," she called, "I'll always be your friend."

He turned, a sad half smile on his face.

"I know," He came forward and kissed her gently on the top of her head.

"Duncan." They embraced each other briefly, before parting.

"Be careful. Good hunting," she whispered.

As he walked away, she heard the snap of Scully's gun.

"No, let him go!" she called, stepping in the line of fire. "He's not the man we're looking for."

Scully stomped over to them.

"What the hell are you doing? You let our prime suspect just walk away."

They said nothing.

Mulder just lit a cigarette and held it in slightly shaking hands, taking a couple of drags and then letting the cigarette drop to the warehouse floor, stubbing it with his shoe.

"I didn't know you smoked," accused Scully.

"Only when I have a near death experience," he replied mysteriously.

He dragged Gloria aside slightly.

"I thought I was a dead man back there," he grinned.

"So did I," she answered matter of factly and he shot her a very worried glance.

She just shrugged. "Well, since my cousin dumped Duncan I don't have that much pull with him anymore."

Mulder shot her a grin. "That was the conflict of interests."

~~

Terri set the video down beside the TV, then spread the doona onto the floor.

"What are you up to?" Ray asked, smiling. "Come down here and find out, lover, " she replied, lying down on the doona, her deep eyes luring him down to her.

He knelt beside her, as they undressed each other by the candle light, then lay over her, naked, tasting and touching; fingers, limbs intertwined. They rolled, and she rode him, tossing her dark hair back as she arched; he watched her with wonder, this wild, beautiful creature that was his wife. Their love making was electric, she was insatiable, coaxing more and more from him until he lay exhausted in her arms. She kissed down the length of his nose in tiny little kisses, her hair partially falling into his face again. He didn't mind. He'd have given anything, anything, to be with her again. And now, here she was.

"God, I love you, " he murmured.

She laughed, softly, and touched his lips with a light kiss. Then suddenly, she tensed. Frowning, she drew away from him, sitting up.

"Teri?" he asked, but she shushed him, playing her hand over his mouth and motioning him to be quiet. Her other hand slid under the couch, curling around the hilt that was hidden there, slowly extracting the long slender sword. It caught the candle light and reflected it harshly. Ray's eyes bulged when he saw it. Instinctively, his eyes darted to where his gun was, on the kitchen counter, still in its holster.

"Stay still, don't make a sound, " she hissed to him as a warning. They heard a floorboard creak. Someone else was in the tiny house with them. He was in the hall.

Slowly, Teri stood, raising the sword in a defensive posture.

"Show yourself, " she demanded. "I am Teresa Maria Verduci Vecchio."

He walked through the doorway, into the light, standing halfway between Ray and his gun. The very sight of him made Ray powerless to move. It was him, his long dead cousin.

The moment of recognition was equally shared.

"Ciao, Raymundo, " he sneered. He circled around Teri, who raised her sword defiantly. He raised his own sword, challenging her, threatening her.

Life suddenly returned to Ray's limbs, and he rose up, making a dive for his gun that would have seen the team home safe in any game. His cousin swung around and struck a blow across the temple with the hilt of his sword. Ray crumpled, bloody and groggy, a few inches short of his weapon.

"Uh uh, " his cousin chided maliciously. "You're turn, later, " he promised. He circled around again.

Teri backed up, trying to lead him away from Ray, who was struggling to get up, to move, to stay conscious. Blood was running into his eyes, blinding him.

The first clash of metal on metal nearly deafened him, so terrible was the sound. Teri had learnt well, but she was no match for his strength, his fury, his hatred,. It hammered down upon her with thickening blows. Ray scrabbled for his gun, knocking it off the counter, hearing it thud and slide a little across the floor. He traced his fingers across the wooden floorboards, squinting, trying to sense for it. His finger tip touched the ice cold barrel. His hand closed about it and he forced himself to his knees. He brought the gun to bear, but hesitated. He could barely see, and they were moving so fast.

"Teri, stand clear, I can't get a shot, " he called.

"No, Ray, " she cried. There was a clash, then the sickening sound of metal slicing into flesh, followed by the thump and thud of meat hitting the floor with the splash and splatter of blood, raining down across the floorboards.

"Teri?" Ray cried uncertainly, blinking desperately.

The candles all winked out simultaneously, as the air seemed to be sucked from the room. Then a bolt of lightning snaked across the room, illuminating it in a jagged, blue white line, and Ray saw.

"No!" he cried, his cry falling into an almost inhuman scream. He glanced up. In another flash of lightning, he saw his cousin standing above him, sword raised. The hilt came crashing down on his head again and he fell into darkness as the lightning snaked around his cousin and drew him, writhing, to the ground beside the headless body of Teresa Vecchio.

The immortal rose up unsteadily on his feet and staggered over to the still trembling body of the mortal male.

He reached down, grabbed Ray by his neck, pulling him up savagely to his knees.

"Hi, cuz, did you miss me?" he growled gleefully.

"Go to hell, Manny, " Ray spluttered, his mouth full of blood and tears.

"Go to hell? Did youy tell me to go to hell, cuz?" he shook Ray like a drowned kitten in his hand. "Well, I've been to hell, and now I'm back, " he grinned.

He threw Ray to the ground hard and stood over him, unzipping his fly.

"Been a long time, Ray. Looks like I've gotta teach you how to respect me again." he spoke coldly, matter of factly.

Ray whimpered against the bare floorboards, remembering all too well what Manny's lesson's involved.

Armando's face set into terrible grim determination as he stood over Ray, coiling his belt around his fist.

"I'm going to make you remember, Cuz. " he promised darkly.

Ray closed his eyes tight, preparing himself. He remembered all too well.

~~

Duncan knelt by the body, head bowed in a moment of solemnity.

"That's the chick who tried to kill me; came between me and the cop," observed Richie with the callousness of one still very young.

Duncan raised his head at last.

"Richie, you can't go around killing every cop who gets too close, " he advised.

"Why, haven't you?"

Duncan frowned, pushing memory away. Once again his protege's barb had found it's mark.

"He was her husband, " Duncan revealed at last with a weary sigh.

"She only came back to Chicago to protect him. She died protecting him." Duncan's dark eyed scowl sliced into Richie. "Can you imagine what it was like, loving someone so deeply, watching them mourn for you, fall apart with despair, grow bitter with loneliness, then watch him fall in love with another --" Duncan's voice growled with barely controlled grief and anger.

"Were you and she --" Richie asked quietly.

"We were friends, " Duncan snapped. "She never could, never would love another. Her marriage vows were sacred."

Duncan stood.

"Iannuci must have taken him. The least I can do is save her husband, so her spirit may rest in peace."

~~

Angel sifted amongst the papers with disdain, flipping open one passport, and discarding it with a casual toss back onto the table, then opening the second, pausing for one moment, as the photograph of a face that mirrored his own smiled up at him. For a moment,, he considered the man's face. For a moment, he considered pocketing the passport to use for himself at some later date, but thought better of it and tossed it, too, back down on the table.

"what about the body, " asked Krychek, still skirting around it squeamishly, earning himself a further withering glare.

"Leave it. It's nothing but dead meat now, no use to anybody, " a purely evil grin slid across his features, "Unless of course you want to use her, she's probably still warm," It was probably the best offer krychek was going to get, he thought cruelly.

Angelo stepped back over the body casually, leaving everything behind in the house, there was nothing of interest here.

In the corner, unnoticed where it had fallen behind the television, the video camera quietly switched to its rewind function.

~~

Ray couldn't move, even though he was unrestrained, he had no reason to move.

Terri had come back to him, loved him, and then he had lost her. She'd died fighting for him, but her death had delivered him into the hands of a madman. A madman he couldn't kill.

He'd lost Benny and Terri. He didn't really care what happened to him now. In a far off part of his brain, he didn't care at all.

He was only vaguely conscious of being naked and bleeding; Manny had lost none of his sadism, obviously. He should be used to violent anal sex by now; perhaps he was, perhaps that was why he didn't care.

He was vaguely aware of someone moving in the room. Please god, not Manny again. The bastard had picked up a few sick tricks since his death.

A hand touched his shoulder and he flinched in pain, even though the skin in that particular patch was unbruised, unmarked.

He buried his head deep in the pillow.

"Ray, " Scully's soft voice was full of concern.

He couldn't move, not even to acknowledge her.

Adopting her professional persona, Scully rolled him over, helping him sit up, somewhat roughly, ignoring his nakedness, coolly detached and clinical.

She walked over to the wardrobe and pulled them open, flinging some clothes onto the bed.

"Wear those, " she offered.

Ray made a move to pick up the shirt feebly, his coordination sloppy. Scully could see he was in shock, and began to help him dress, bending his arms back like a Ken doll, hushing his protests with a short hiss. Ray realised this wasn't a rescue as much as an escape; Manny was lurking around the townhouse somewhere. Great, a deranged maniac with a sword, Ray hung his head tiredly, he could only see Terri's headless body dropping down to the ground, over and over. He'd killed her. She was an immortal thing, a goddess, and she'd died for the foolish love of a mortal. A slow tear fell down his cheek.

"She was beautiful, Scully, ' he murmured.

"Who." she all but snapped.

"My wife. She was beautiful. I loved her. I loved her so much."

"Ray -- we've got to go, now," Scully urged, trying to pull him upwards.

Mulder walked down the corridor like a cat, sweeping his guide from side to side, straining for the slightest movement.

Duncan could feel him, the presence of another of his kind, somewhere within the house. He stood still and concentrated; below. His quarry was below.

Manny checked the chains that bound his captive once more.

Benny groaned, unseeing, his eyes swollen shut, his breath in rasps, he drifted in and out of consciousness. He was going to die here. He knew that now. He could feel his own heart beat struggling, his breath gurgling sickeningly, each breath cut off with a sharp pain, the broken ribs tore at his lungs; he was drowning slowly in his own blood. One rib, bashed inwards by the baseball bat, felt as though it had speared something, deep inside. His whole body felt heavy, leaden, cold. He was dying. He had tried to hang on, but it was too much effort now, he was too tired, the darkness that swelled up, overwhelming his senses offered such sweet sanctuary from the pain. In his mind, the visions played again, of his father, of Victoria, of Ray. He sank against the floor, the life flowing out of him with his blood.

Manny suddenly glanced up, aware, at last, through the fog of his madness, that he was being stalked. Drawing his sword, he moved up the steps, ready for his second kill, still heady from the first.

Duncan, sword drawn, moved silently along the darkly quiet hallways. His sword reflected the soft blue light of the hallway. He caught a glimpse of movement and padded into the room, but it was only the long white chiffon curtains floating softly in the breeze from the open bay doors. He turned, the sense of another growing stronger, as Manny stepped silently into the room.

Swords drawn and ready, they circled each other warily in a slow and deadly dance. Manny had the gleam of madness in his eyes. He lunged forward, swinging wildly, his attack so off kilter as to almost disarm Duncan. Duncan fell back, shaken, raising his sword to deflect Manny's heavy blow.

Mulder heard the clash of steel. Slipping the safety catch off, he moved carefully to the source of the sound.

Manny had never been taught, that much was evident. He hacked and slashed and ran at Duncan with a lunatic's strength. Duncan was on the defensive, rolling and recoiling. Manny had no idea of the rules. Duncan had to search back 400 years, to the clumsy brutish clan skirmishes he remembered, and the skills he had used to avoid losing his life to a berserk opponent. He rolled again as Manny's blade caught his arm, drawing first blood. Duncan ignored the cut, the open wound staining the sliced open cloth of his shirt bright scarlet.

Duncan stood and let Manny swing at him across the roo. Immortals were repairable, but they weren't inexhaustible. Let him get tired and sloppy, let him provide an opening in his wild swings.

Mulder swung around the door, ready to fire, but unprepared for the sight of two grown men actually duelling with swords. Not to mention the identity of the two men - the dead mobster Armando Ianucci facing down the 100 plus year old serial killer Duncan Macleod.

"Nobody move!" Mulder snarled.

Manny swung around, surprised at the Fed's audacity, giving Duncan the opening he needed. Macleod raised his sword in a mighty swing, administering the killing blow. With one stroke, the sword separated Manny's head from his neck, the head went flying across the room to slam into the wall, then bounce onto the floor like a ghastly basketball. Mulder fired, emptying his clip into Macleod; Duncan staggered back in a bizarre, jerking dance as each bullet struck him, before collapsing, the sword falling from his hand as his body slumped beside that of Manny's.

Mulder was most definitely not prepared for what came next. Glowing tendrils of electricity, pure energy, snaked from Ianucci's body to encircle Macleod. Softly at first, in a gentle caress they encircled Duncan, touching him, flowing over him. The intensity of the energy increased, the light began to blind Mulder, the pressure pressed at his eardrums, he turned away, covering his head with his arms as the energy streams whipped around, tearing up the walls, across the ceiling, the floor, streaking around him and through him, burning like fire. He screamed, the windows in the bay doors exploded outwards.

Scully stopped dead at the scream, Ray leaning heavily upon her. Then she began to move faster, Ray, just barely, managing to keep up.

Mulder threw himself out of the room, landing in a sprawled heap in front of Scully and Ray.

The unearthly glow in the room behind him winked out almost simultaneously. Scully stared in, in the dark only able to make out the shadowy form of two dead bodies, lying in the middle of the shattered ruins of the room.

"What the hell happened in there," she demanded.

"I don't know, " Mulder gasped.

"We have to get out of here, " she declared.

"No." Mulder pulled himself unsteadily to his feet.

"Benny's here, somewhere, " he insisted.

"How do you know?" Scully interrogated.

"I just know. I can feel him. I can feel his presence nearby, but he's growing weaker."

Ray's eyes narrowed, through jealousy and suspicion.

Mulder wouldn't, couldn't explain his sixth sense. He just knew when he was close to Benny, he just knew. There was a pull between them. They were blood brothers.

Ray straightened, pushing away Scully's support.

"He's been here, all along?" he asked, eyes widening as he realised, judging what must have happened to Fraser by his own experience.

"Oh my god," he whispered.

~~

"Benny?" Ray murmured helplessly, confused by the sight of his lover lying helplessly on the cold bare concrete, covered in his own blood and waste.

"Dear god, Benny." he sighed, kneeling to touch the blood mattered hair.

Scully, not as timorous, felt for a pulse.

"He's still alive, " she announced with faint surprise. "But not for long."

Mulder threw the chain angrily at the ground.

"The bloody thing's welded, " he announced in disgust. He pulled out his phone and dialled 911 in any case.

"He'll be dead before they can free him," observed a calm and cultured voice behind him, a voice that held the traces of a multitude of accents. "As much as it goes against the grain to help a Fraser, he'll die if you don't get him to hospital."

Mulder's head whipped around, eyes as wide as saucers. He rose, slowly, reaching for his gun.

"That won't do you any good, you know that." Macleod patiently reminded him.

"What are you?"

"An Immortal."

"Human?"

"Not quite. I don't know our origins. I only know we exist. And I know that secret organisations, within your government and without, know of our existence."

Mulder's expression spun from disbelief to belief to suspicion to denial to belief once more.

Duncan raised his sword, Mulder backed up a little. Duncan brought it down hard, severing the chains that held Benny captive, allowing Scully to roll him into the recovery position.

"I think his lung's collapsed," she reported, her hand pressed against Ben's pallid and clammy cheek.

Mulder's eyes were still riveted on Macleod.

"You killed Ianucci."

"I did you a favour. He was mad. He fell into the hands of your government. For ten years they experimented on him, and drive him mad."

"How do you know this."

"I have my sources. Let me go, now, and I may be able to contact you again, to tell you more."

Scully could see Mulder buying into this.

"Mulder - he's a murderer - you can't."

"I emptied my clip into this guy, and he's still breathing." Mulder shot back, convinced. "Why the killing?" he asked of Macleod.

"We only kill our own kind, as a rule. We're driven to it."

Mulder, you can't -"

"I can't give him up to the Cancer Man, " Mulder snapped back, turning on her. "You know what they'd do to him. "

He turned back to Macleod. "Go. Get out o here, now."

Duncan couldn't hide his relief. He'd tell Joe what had happened, let Joe decide what to do. According to Joe's file, Mulder was perfect watcher material, at least from what Duncan had seen of the organisation.

Duncan bowed to Mulder, the gesture of a man from another time, and then turned to Ray.

"I'm sorry Teresa had to die. She was, a friend. She loved you, always." he whispered, his voice half breaking in shared sympathy.

Ray turned away, not wanting to face the fact of his loss, and the further that loss that awaited him as Benny's life flickered and slowly dimmed at his feet.

Quietly, Duncan left them. As he passed the torn apart room, he saw the body of Iannuci had vanished.

~~

Ray doggedly followed the guerney carrying Benny along the corridor of the hospital, when a hand reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him up short. He spun around to face Scully, with that all business expression on her face.

He hung his head.

"Now?"

"Yes, Ray, now. You were raped and assaulted. I have to check you out, there could be internal injuries."

"Do you have to take evidence?'

"Its the law. You know that."

"He's dead you know, the guy who did this to me." he offered, almost conversationally.

Scully didn't say anything, touching a gentle hand to the bleeding cut on his forehead, her eyes sharp with concern.

"Is Benny going to be okay?"

Her eyes fell away from his.

"I couldn't say."

Ray shrugged.

She tilted his head into the light.

"I think you may be concussed. Come on, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner its over with."

Grabbing his arm again, she led him to an empty examination room.

~~

Ray waited uncomfortably in the hospital seat, Mulder by his side, his own injuries having being patched and treated as Benny underwent emergency surgery. He was numb, not merely on painkillers. Numb from what he had experienced, being widowed, raped, beaten, now waiting to see if he would lose Benny, all in the space of 48 hours. It was too much. No, not quite. He saw his sister marching towards him. Now that was too much.

A member of the hospital's clerical staff approached, brandishing a clipboard.

"I'll need the next of kin to fill these in."

"Fraser doesn't have any next of kin --" Francesca began.

Ray snatched the clip board out of the clerk's hands.

"That'll be me."

He sat down with the clipboard full of papers, flipping through them. The clerk marched off, her duty despatched, not caring who filled in the forms as long as somebody did.

"You are not Fraser's next of kin, " continued Francesca in an annoying, high pitched whine.

Ray just glared at her, too tired for this.

"Yes I am, " he replied.

"No, " she tried to pull the clipboard away from him.

Ray pulled it back, barely controlling his temper. He stood, using his height if nothing else to impress upon her his words.

"Look, Francesca, the last time Frasier got out of the hospital we went to a lawyer. I have power of attorney, I'm the executor of his estate, the whole buck 75 of it, and I get to pull the plug, should it come to that," his voice was brittle edged.

"What gives you the right."

"Benny did. He's my partner."

"He's no such thing. He works for the consulate."

"De facto partner." He rolled his eyes. How could he get this through to his sister. "Benny and I are lovers!" he blurted out, a tad more loudly than he'd wanted to.

Francesca slapped his face hard.

"How dare you! " she screamed. "Why would you say such a horrid thing like that!"

"Because its true." he replied quietly.

She slapped him hard again.

"Liar! Its a sin. Fraser would never - How dare you say these things about him while he is lying there in that hospital bed -" she broke off, unable to finish. "I hate you. Never speak to me again!" she screamed in his face, before she tore herself away from him and ran away, up the corridor. He knew where he could find her. In the chapel, praying for Fraser. But he didn't bother. The truth will out, one way or another. She had to know.

Ray found her, sitting quietly in the chapel. He slid into the seat beside her, not bothering to kneel or genuflect.

"Just thought I'd let you know Fraser's out of surgery and in recovery. They had to sew up a tear in his lung, but he'll be fine."

Fran didn't look at him, keeping her head bowed.

"You and Benton are lovers?" she asked again.

"Yes." he replied quietly, aware of how his voice echoed in the tiny room.

"For how long?"

"Since we consummated our relationship? A little while. How long have we loved each other? Since the first moment we met."

"Love at first sight?" her tone was sarcastic.

He ignored her.

"Did you do it in the house?"

"Yes. " he answered, taking a small pleasure in knowing that the idea of the man she wanted had been giving himself to another across the hallway would hurt her.

"Were you and Benton lovers when --"

"When you slept with my boyfriend, yes, " he finished for her, cattily.

"Well, if he's your boyfriend, he wasn't behaving like it that night. Can't be too special then," she shot back.

"You seduced him. You left him no choice. Besides, Fraser hasn't been himself lately. You're lucky he didn't hurt you. But get this straight, stay away from him. He's mine."

Francesca raised her head at last to look at him at last. There was fire in her eyes.

"You can call him yours, but I'm having his baby."

Ray just stared at her, the bottom dropping out of his world for the third time that day.

~~

Ray trudged up the pathway to the gravesite of his wife., just an empty memorial. He knew her body lay elsewhere. Somehow, he was neither surprised nor irritated to find himself not alone.

A man was standing alone, quietly, head bent in quiet prayer before her grave. he leant heavily upon his crutches, his grief seemed very deep and genuine. He acknowledged Ray with a simple nod of the head, as though he had been expecting him.

"She's not really buried there, " Ray commented. "They never found the body."

"I know, " replied the older, bearded gentleman sympathetically. "I told her not to come back to Chicago. But she had to, to see you, to keep you safe. She loved you."

"I know, " Ray hunched over sorrowfully. Had she not died, he would have run away with her in a second, and never looked back, not even for Benny. He guessed they were even now, over Victoria. Well, not quite. There was one thing that could never be buried between them, the answer to question Ray refused to look at, the question Benny had asked him with what had almost been his dying breath-- why? Why he had shot Benny. Why he had shot his lover , for leaving him, for leaving with Victoria, for leaving him homeless, possibly jobless, friendless, alone, perhaps all of those things, he didn't want to look at the reasons why he had pulled his gun on his friend, his lover, and aimed and fired. He began to understand what they meant by temporary insanity, why people could and did use it as a defence in court. He knew it because it was the only way he could justify his actions and still remain sane.

Ray stared down at the grave. Now he knew something of what his shot had cost Ben. Wanting something, so badly, having it for a moment, losing it for the second time, forever.

He knelt and placed the bouquet of deep red roses upon the grave. Such a stupid waste. She was so special, she died for no reason, such a unique creature, giving up her life for somewhat like him, he felt so unworthy.

Joe rested a hand on his shoulder.

"She died for love, that's not an unworthy cause."

"I don't even know if her body ended up dissected in some lab somewhere, "

"It's alright", Joe soothed. "It's all taken care of. She's at peace."

Ray nodded, taking some small comfort in that.

"You really knew her?" he asked d again.

Joe smiled, a warm fatherly smile. "Why don't I buy us a coffee and I'll tell you what I can, " he offered.

Ray nodded. "I'd like that."

~~

Ray mulled over his cup of coffee. Since when had his life turned into Melrose Place. He'd seen his wife and cousin killed, horribly, again, and his sister was pregnant to his increasingly insane lover, who lay in hospital.

"You've been through a lot lately, " Dawson observed good naturedly.

Ray hung his head over his cup.

"You could say that, yes." He played with the handle absently.

"I wish we'd had more time together." He thought of Fran, carrying Fraser's child. "I wish we'd had children, something to keep of her." His hazel eyes were so sad.

"I'm afraid that was impossible. They're infertile, you know. Terri called it a mixed blessing, better to have no children than watch them all die before you."

"She knew?"

"Not until after."

"So, you really knew her?" Ray asked, soulfully.

"Yes, she worked in my bookshop, for a time. A friend of mine, er, liberated her from the morgue. She always asked for reports on you from Chicago."

Ray's eyebrows shot up. "You were watching me?"

Joe shrugged affably. "We're watchers. You were married to an immortal. They value their first loves so very highly."

"You were watching me, " Ray repeated.

"We have several Detectives in our organisation, " replied Joe, in a tone laced with meaning.

Ray's eyes narrowed. He wasn't so sure how secret organisations washed with him.

-00000805/JHR

Mulder, Scully, Ray and Fraser will return in "Aliens Ate My Buick"

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