Disclaimer and Notes: Standard disclaimers apply. Written for the LJ Lyric Fic Challenge. Song: Shape of My Heart by Sting

Shape of My Heart

by Raine Wynd

I've got to stop doing this, Ray thought for the thousandth time as he trudged up the stairs to his apartment, tired after a long day of figuratively beating his head against the wall. He'd arrested the perp fair and square, got him dead to rights, crossed all the T's and dotted all the I's, and still the crook had walked free. Days like this, he wanted to hang up his badge, rewind to the six months he'd spent in Canada, using up every shred of vacation and sick leave he'd ever had, just enjoying the sheer insanity of using his wits, the sheer gamble of playing to the hidden law of a probable outcome, to help Fraser solve his cases. Somehow, life had seemed simpler when he and Fraser were together. If nothing else, he didn't have to wonder if there was something wrong when he'd declared his love.

Days like this, the ache in his heart wouldn't be denied. Knowing the answer to his heart's desire had neither been rejection nor a bland acceptance didn't change how he felt; six months and fifteen thousand miles certainly hadn't. Even so, knowing that Fraser cared for him wasn't the same as needing the reciprocation of the level of his love. Nothing would change that.

Still, Ray had played the cards as he'd been dealt, and he'd come home when his luck had run as far as he'd dared. He was good at hiding how he felt when he was in public, for there he was a man of many faces; alone, the dark and the loneliness and all the masks came crashing down.

With a sigh that could have been mistaken for a prayer, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. He didn't bother with the lights as he shrugged off his jacket and let it drop vaguely near the front door.

The smell of pine hit him like a sledgehammer. For a moment, he thought maybe Frannie had been serious about cleaning up his place. For a moment, he wanted to believe in hallucinations and miracles. For a moment, he reacted instinctively, and flipped on the lights with one hand even as the other drew his gun. He spun towards the smell, towards the casually dressed man who held up his hands and said rather sheepishly, "Surprise, Ray? You did give me a key."

Exhaling, Ray relaxed his grip on his gun, switched on the safety, and put it back in his holster. "You ever heard of calling first, Fraser?"

Fraser grinned. "I did call. You let Francesca borrow your cell phone."

Ray swore briefly; he'd forgotten the loan. Shaking off the annoyance, he looked at his former partner. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Fraser rubbed an eyebrow. "I missed you." He stepped closer, but stopped just short of closing the distance entirely. He seemed to radiate nervousness, and somehow, the sight of the usually sure Fraser made Ray chuckle. The sight made him remember other times like this, like the unseasonably cold summer afternoon their relationship had turned from partners and friends to something intangibly more.

As if Ray's laughter was Fraser's cue, he finished closing the distance and kissed Ray. Suddenly, the reasons why Fraser was here — and Ray was certain that he wasn't the only reason, for nothing was ever simple when Fraser was around — dissolved into the now, now Fraser was here, now his heart was home, now was the only thing that mattered. Everything else would and could wait.

-- finis 2/7/07 --