It had begun to get dark as they made their way back up the rocky incline toward the forest. Keith had had the foresight to bring a flashlight with him, but the going was still tough. They stuck close together, Keith in front, Ray in the middle and Fraser bringing up the rear. The hounds and Dief were way ahead, probably hunting poor defenceless woodland creatures.

Ray wasn’t sure, but the path seemed way steeper than it had on the way down. The darker it got, the harder it became to keep his bearings. They stopped for a rest about half way up and Keith produced a flask of water from his pack. Ray was glad for the stop. He was out of breath already and they were nowhere near the castle yet.

“Is that a tawny owl I hear?” Fraser asked tilting his head to one side. Ray had heard the weird scream too, and was more than a little relieved to hear that the culprit was nothing more dangerous than a bird.

“Aye, we hae a nesting pair close by." Keith seemed a little worried. "Would you mind staying here while I go make sure the dogs are behaving? Not that I think yer wolf would kill an owl, but Jock might, to prove something. Ye understand?"

“Of course. We’ll be fine. Won’t we, Ray?” Fraser answered. Ray recapped the flask and handed it back to Keith.

“You taking the flashlight?” Not that he was scared of the dark or anything. Not at all. He was merely concerned for kiltboy. Wouldn’t want their guide falling and breaking something.

“I’ll no’ be long. Just sit on that rock and try not to let the Kelpies get ye.”

It got dark very quickly when Keith took the light away. Ray eased himself down onto the rock as instructed and stared up at the darkening sky. The last time he’d seen stars so bright had been on the quest. There was no light pollution or smog up there in the Yukon. This place reminded him a lot of Canada actually. Only smaller.

“Kelpies? What the fuck?” he asked after a moment. Fraser lowered himself down onto the rock beside Ray, and Ray caught a faint whiff of fresh sweat from him. Hurriedly, he crossed his legs, not that even Fraser, with his eagle eyes, would have been able to see his burgeoning erection in the dark.

“Kelpies? Mythical beasts that looked like horses," Fraser explained. "When a person tried to mount said horse, it would dive back into the loch, from which it came, drowning the hapless person in the process.”

“Nice.” Fraser tilted his head back, looking up at he sky and giving Ray a rather tempting view of exposed throat.

“Lovely night, don’t you think?” It never ceased to amaze Ray how Fraser could see the good in every situation. Here they were, alone on a mountain in the dark and cold and he was as happy as a pig in shit. At least they weren’t hanging from said mountain in a hammock this time.

“Fraser, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Ray. Ask away.”

“Do you ever think about where you’ll be, say... ten years from now? Ever wonder what you’ll be doing? Who you’ll be doing it with?” That was a lot more than he’d intended to say really, but it was out now. No take backs.

Fraser was silent for so long that Ray had begun to wonder if he would answer. Finally he took a deep breath. “An interesting question, Ray. Although location matters less to me than vocation, I always assumed that I would be doing exactly what I’m doing right now. Being a Mountie is all I’ve ever wanted, all I’ve ever known.”

“So that’s who you are? Benton Fraser, the Mountie. That’s how you see yourself?”

“That’s how I’ve seen myself in the past, Ray, yes. There was never any doubt that I would follow in my father’s footsteps. He was a Mountie, so I would be one too. I always saw it as a calling of sorts. Recently I’ve come to question that line of thinking a little.”

Ray had been expecting that. This trip to Scotland had opened up new and exciting possibilities for Fraser. Who wouldn’t want to explore a whole new life?

“How about you, Ray? How do you see yourself?”

That was the big question. Who was Ray Kowalski? For the longest time, he’d identified himself as Stella’s husband. He’d been so lost after that, that taking on the role of Ray Vecchio had at least given him an identity. These days, he saw himself as Fraser’s partner. But that wouldn’t last forever. He’d done the undercover gig for so long that he’d lost sight of who he was. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t identified himself as part of some kind of partnership.

“Cop. Just a cop,” Ray answered flatly after a while.

“Ah,” Fraser replied equally flatly.

They sat in silence for a while, looking up at the sky.

Then silence was broken abruptly by the sound of falling rocks.

***

Ray kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he tumbled down the hill, arms raised protectively over his head. By the time he came to a stop, he was no longer sure which way was up and he hurt all over.

“Ray. Ray, are you all right?”

Ray opened his eyes to see a couple of fuzzy Frasers staring down at him. He blinked, and the Frasers thankfully merged into one “What happened?” he croaked.

Fraser's hands planted firmly on his chest prevented him from moving. “There was a rockslide. I managed to push you out of the way, but we rolled quite a bit down the hillside. You may have been knocked unconscious. How many fingers am I holding up?”

Ray batted Fraser’s hand out of his face. “Fraser, its pitch dark. I can’t see a damned thing. Where’s Keith?” He could hear barking and it was coming closer.

Fraser finally helped him to his feet, keeping one arm tightly around his waist as they turned back towards the path. “I believe he’s on his way.”

Ray was pretty sure he hadn’t been knocked out. He was just a bit dizzy from the fall. He didn’t need anyone holding him up, but then again, it was kinda nice to have Fraser this close. His hair smelled of pine and roses and… damn, maybe he had received a blow to the head if he was openly sniffing Fraser.

The beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness. Keith skittered into view, almost losing his footing on the uneven path. He saw that Fraser was holding Ray up and rushed to their sides. "Oh, my God, what happened? I heard rocks falling…"

"Yeah, Frase thinks they all landed on my noggin." Ray shoved Fraser away, determined to stand on his own, but succeeded only in landing on his ass.

Dief was all over him, licking his face and whining piteously. "We should get him back to the castle as quick as we can," Keith said. "I'll call Sebastian and have him meet us in the 4X4 down at the loch." He was already dialling his cell phone as Fraser reached down and threw Ray over his shoulder.

"Hey, put me the fuck down!" Ray protested. The fact that his face was hanging inches from Fraser's ass was neither here nor there. He clutched the fabric of Fraser's jacket to avoid temptation. "It's not like I lost the feeling in my legs. I can walk."

Fraser just laughed and launched into a long story about a downed airplane, a desperate criminal and a head wound that had resulted in Ray Vecchio having to carry Fraser through a forest much like this. Ray decided it was better just to let him talk. Until he suggested that they might all like to sing. Ray had to draw the line there.

Sebastian and a local doctor were waiting at the foot of the trail. The doc gave Ray the once over, proclaimed him battered, bruised, but not concussed and they all bundled into the car.

"Fraser?"

"Yes, Ray?"

"I think Scotland hates me."

Fraser just patted him reassuringly on the knee.

***

Daphne McDonald was waiting for them in the drawing room when they returned. She was curled up in a big armchair in front of the fire with an old book and a pot of coffee.

“One of the gillies told me about yer wee accident, Mr Kowalski,” she put the book down and got to her feet. “I hope it didnae put ye off oor country?”

Ray shrugged and headed for the fireplace, hoping to get some warmth into his bones. He hadn’t felt this cold since the quest. “No damage done,” he said, deliberately not answering her question. Scotland was cold, wet, dismal and dangerous. A lot like home actually.

She nodded knowingly and turned to Fraser, pointing at an official looking manilla folder on the table. “If ye feel up to it, there are papers to be signed. Apart from the castle, yer uncle left a wee bit money and a shepherds cottage. Shouldn’t take long to get the formalities over and then everything will be settled.”

Fraser gave Ray a long look. “Why don’t you go up and get comfortable, Ray?” he asked. “I’ll check in on you when I’m done.”

Feeling like he’d just been dismissed, Ray stomped out of the room, leaving Fraser to do his lairdly business. The truth was that he could do with a shower and a full night’s uninterrupted sleep. Although his bed had been comfortable enough, once he finally fell into it the previous night, he’d only managed to doze for most of the night. The lack of sleep was making him cranky as hell and probably a bit paranoid too.

He showered quickly and climbed into bed. Tense muscles began to relax one by one and he let out a long breath, sinking deeper into the pillows. Had to be some kind of record. He’d been in Scotland less than a day, and already he’d almost died. Although Canada had tried pretty hard too, if he were honest. Still, he’d survived Canada, he could totally kick Scotland’s ass.

***

"Good morning, Ray. How are you feeling?"

Ray squinted, as Fraser pulled open the curtains, letting pale November sunlight stream into the room. Up until that point, he'd been feeling fine. He'd been dreaming about the quest and the night that they'd been trapped in the tent by a storm. The temperature had fallen so low that Fraser had zipped their sleeping bags together to keep them from freezing to death, and Ray had just kept thinking 'what a way to go.'

Last night, after his shower, he hadn’t bothered putting any clothes back on. Quickly, he pulled the covers up to his chin and glowered at Fraser.

"Feels like I just went three rounds with Mike Tyson," he grumbled.

"Would this help?" Fraser produced a mug of steaming hot coffee, seemingly from nowhere, and Ray was reminded yet again, why he loved this guy.

As he sipped the strong black coffee, he was aware of Fraser surreptitiously checking him out. Of course, he knew it was just for cuts and bruises, but a guy could dream right? He let the cover slip down to his waist again, just to see if he could get some sort of reaction out of his partner. And he did…

"Good grief, Ray, that must hurt!"

Ray glanced down and his naked chest and saw an ugly black and blue bruise at the top of his ribcage. There was a small gash at the heart of it, which had happened, no doubt, as they'd toppled down the mountain last night. He winced as Fraser's gentle fingers traced the line of it.

"I think I have some ointment that might help…"

As Fraser dashed next door to his own room, Ray tried to locate his boxers. No way was he going to lie here totally naked and let Fraser smear him with cream! Just, no way! He had one leg in his shorts when Fraser reappeared. Ray cursed silently and hauled his shorts up. Now he was left with a dilemma. Did he stand where he was and let Fraser do his Florence Nightingale act, or did he crawl back into bed where he could better hide his embarrassment?

"Ray, I need to examine you for more abrasions," Fraser stated calmly, running his eyes up and down the length of Ray's body, and incidentally causing the entire length of Ray's body to break out in goosebumps. Ray almost leapt into the bed.

"Fraser, I've been hurt worse slipping in my own shower. I don’t need you fussing over me." It came out sounding way angrier than he wanted it to but at least it had the desired effect.

Fraser backed off."Understood," he said stiffly, eyes fixed on the small pot of walrus-gonad-and-caribou-tonsil ointment in his hands.

Ray immediately felt like three kinds of asshole. He sighed and lay back on the bed, shoving the covers down to his waist. "Do what you gotta do, Frase, but I'm warning you, if those fucking mosquitoes are attracted to that shit, I'm gonna kick you in the head so hard, you eyeballs with go into orbit."

Fraser's grin was only marginally suppressed. "Thank you, Ray. I'll bear that in mind."

***

Ray endured the intimate examination, but ignored Fraser’s advice to take it easy for the rest of the day. After all, Fraser wasn’t a doctor and Ray wasn’t fragile. After breakfast, he found himself waist deep in the coldest, most crystal clear lake he'd ever seen. Suitably kitted out in hip waders, he and Fraser were attempting to catch something called a grayling.

Ray wouldn’t know a grayling if it bit him on the ass, but if it got Fraser this excited, it might be worth the discomfort of freezing his balls off. On the bank, Keith reclined with the dogs, and Ray could hardly focus on what Fraser was saying to him.

Keith was getting more blatant by the minute and it was growing harder to resist. Ray was only human, and the guy he really wanted to be with was oblivious. "It's all in the wrist action, Ray," Fraser was saying.

Ray jolted back to reality, dragged his eyes away from the slash of golden stomach revealed when Keith had stretched and gaped at Fraser dumbly. "Huh?"

"Casting your line. It's all in the wrist action. You see first you flick the line back like this…"

Ray focused on Fraser but didn’t really hear what he was saying. Fraser was looking damned good today. He always looked good, no matter what he wore, but Ray was so used to seeing him in uniform, that it was a real kick to see him in something else. Today he wore hip waders like Ray and a thick white cable knit pullover that brought out the darkness of his hair and the pale blue of his eyes like whoa!

Ray watched Fraser expertly flick the line out and nodded in all the right places. Then it was his turn. He tried to do it the way Fraser had showed him, but the damned line got tangled in a tree. With a frustrated sigh, Ray hauled it back in. "Knock yourself out Frase. I'm gonna sit this one out."

On the bank, Keith greeted him with mug of steaming coffee, poured from a thermos flask. As soon as he'd struggled out of the waders, Ray flopped down onto the blanket and wrapped his cold hands gratefully around the mug.

"He's something else, isn’t he?" Keith commented.

Ray frowned, following Keith's gaze to where Fraser was expertly casting his line, and snorted. It was only a matter of time before Keith's attentions shifted. Ray was frankly surprised that he'd held the young man's interest this long. "Yeah," he sighed.

Keith's green eyes found Ray's and he licked a droplet of coffee from his lower lip. "Ye love him, Ray?"

Was it that obvious? Ray felt his face flush. "Yeah. We've been through the mill together. We're tight."

Keith reached out and laid a had on Ray's thigh. "I mean, ye're in love with him."

Ray's eyes fell to where Keith's hand rested. "Yeah," he whispered. No point in denying it. The kid was an observant little bastard. And it felt kinda good to finally admit that out loud to someone.

Keith's thumb was moving in tiny circles on Ray's leg. "But he's not wired that way, Ray. It's not healthy to be mooning over someone ye can't ever have." Ray heard the open invitation in that sentence loud and clear, and yet he still hesitated.

Even if Fraser could never want him that way, going with someone else still felt like a betrayal of sorts. But then again, it had been so fucking long… and he was so horny, he could use his dick to hammer in nails.

"Got anyone else in mind?” He asked, quite unable to meet Keith’s eyes. But Ray didn’t get an answer. Fraser let out a whoop of joy and began frantically reeling in his line.

"Get the net!" he yelled. Keith gave Ray one last long look, and hauled him to his feet.

"The laird has made his catch, Ray. You should try to do the same." Those words haunted Ray for the rest of the day.

He was glad that fishing was a silent sport for the most part, because it gave him time to think. Keith was right. He should put Fraser out of his mind and live a little. Keith was young, and available and damned hot. Why shouldn’t he take what was on offer?

He glanced downriver, to where Fraser was heading back to the bank. He'd caught eight Grayling to Ray's zero and was calling it a day. Ray figured it was time he faced reality. Fraser was off limits. As he began reeling in his line, he became aware of an odd noise growing louder by the minute. It kinda sounded like a whole pack of mosquitoes, but giant versions, which made him wind in the reel more frantically. He wasn’t hanging about to find out just how big the bloodsuckers got.

"Ray! Look out!" He glanced up to find out why Fraser and Keith were waving and yelling in time to see the speedboat bearing down on him and then it was on top of him and he was going under, the water turning white all around him as the propeller blades churned it up.

Fuck! His last thought before he blacked out was that Scotland really did have it in for him, and that he would have been safer staying in Chicago and taking on the mob.

***

Everything hurt. Ray lay still, trying to make sense of the weird noises all around him. Felt like his ears were full of water. He could hear people talking, but their voices were distorted and he couldn’t make anything out.

The thought that he was dead flitted across his subconscious for about a nanosecond, before he remembered how much he was hurting, and that his mum had always told him that all suffering and pain would end in the afterlife so this was not it, or at least it wasn’t heaven… so maybe…. okay, okay it could be hell.He’d always figured he was heading down there anyway…

“Ray. Ray, can you hear me?” Ray screwed his eyes shut tighter. That could not have been Fraser’s voice, on account of how Fraser would not be here in hell. No way. Fraser already had a little golden harp with his name carved on it and a nice fluffy white cloud reserved for his day of reckoning. Seriously – wings, halo, long white dress – the works.

“If you can hear me, squeeze my hand, Ray.” Ray wasn’t about to squeeze any damned thing. He was just gonna lie there and wait for the devil to come along and clue him in on his eternal punishment. And if that punishment involved working for the rest of eternity along side a Canadian in a funny red suit, then it would damned well serve him right.

“Has he stopped breathing? I think he’s stopped breathing.” Oh great! Keith was here too! Any minute now, Vecchio, Frannie, Welsh and his great Aunt Hilda would appear and put in their two cents worth. Because they had to be here, didn’t they? It wouldn’t be hell without them. Oh and Stella. She wouldn’t miss this…

“I think you’re right. I’m going to attempt to resuscitate him.” Okay, yeah. This was hell. This right here was hell. Fraser’s lips were on his, and he couldn’t even feel it. He was numb. He was cold and numb and shivering and… and… Jesus, coughing up a lung!!!

Ray bolted upright, shoving Fraser out of the way, gasping for breath. “Wha’ hit me,” he rasped. His head was thumping.

“Thank God, yer alive,” Keith was clutching his shoulders and squeezing hard enough that Ray could actually feel it. “I thought ye were a gonner when that speed boat ploughed intae ye.”

Ray was aware of Fraser’s hand in the small of his back, supporting him. It felt nice. He leaned back into it a little. “Do you remember the boat, Ray?” Fraser asked.

There had been fish. Big fish. A couple of them. And mosquitoes. Giant mosquitoes. Then something had grabbed him by the leg and pulled him under the water. “Shark?” he wheezed, and why did his throat feel like he’d just smoked a whole carton of cigarettes?

“No, Ray. Not a shark – a speed boat. It almost killed you.”

Ray closed his eyes and tried to remember. It was coming back to him slowly.

Scotland.

Scotland was trying to kill him.

***

Ray spent the rest of the day with both Fraser and Keith fussing over him like a pair of crazed mother hens. The local doctor had been called out yet again to take a look at him, and pronounced him hale and hearty but for a crop of new cuts and bruises, and the faint possibility that the water he’d swallowed might give him a stomach bug.

By dinnertime, he’d had about all the fussing he could take and sneaked downstairs to the kitchen as soon as his two nannies turned their backs. The cook took one look at him and shook her head. “Scotch broth. That’s what ye’ll be needin’,” she decided, ladling a bowlful out from the giant black cauldron that sat on the hob. “It’ll put hairs on yer chest.”

“Thanks, but I already got some. I really just want some peace and quiet. The Mountie and kiltboy are driving me nutzo!”

He didn’t really expect the matronly woman to understand but she smiled knowingly. “Aye. Neither o’ them let’s you oot o’ their sight for mair than a minute. Must be nice tae be so weel liked?”

Ray shrugged. “You’d think so, yeah.” It actually felt rather suffocating. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Fraser and Keith were getting a bit competitive over who could look after him the best. Under normal circumstances, Ray might have found the attention flattering, but his ego was taking backseat to his sense of self-preservation.

Didn’t have to be a detective to work out that his life was in real danger there. Two near misses inside as many days couldn’t be a coincidence.

Diefenbaker trotted in through the open door and totally ignored Ray in favour of his new best friend, Mrs Campbell. The cook had saved him a nice hambone and while she was cooing over the mutt, Ray slipped out the back door and into the garden. Of course he didn’t have a jacket with him, and it was late autumn, but he’d survived everything Canada had thrown at him during the quest, so Scotland could just do its worst.

He lit up a cigarette, coughed as the harsh smoke hit his throat and leaned against the wall, wondering which Prince Charming would come to his rescue first. The sun was setting, painting the sky with a palette of golds and reds. Somewhere off in the woods, a flock of birds were chattering loudly as they settled in to roost.

Ray breathed in the fresh cool air and sighed. Could Carboni’s arm stretch this far? DeMarco was definitely up to something and he was Italian. Welsh had sent him here to protect him, but Ray knew that if Carboni wanted him gone, nowhere on the planet was safe. At least in Chicago, he’d had his gun. Here, he was a sitting duck.

He should tell Fraser about this, but something held him back. He could see how much his partner was enjoying being here, and there was the faintest chance that his own perceptions were being clouded with jealousy. Until he was sure that Scotland really was trying to kill him, he would keep his suspicions to himself.

“So, this is where you’re hiding?” Keith stepped outside, and closed the door behind himself. Ray smiled. He’d been sure that Fraser would find him first.

He offered Keith his cigarette and watched while the youngster took a deep drag. Keith was still wearing his kilt, but had lost his jumper somewhere along the line. The thin white t-shirt was no defence against the chill evening air. Ray realised he was staring at the kid’s nipples, and dragged his eyes slowly upwards.

Keith grinned and pinged the cigarette butt away. He slowly advanced on Ray, placing his hands on the wall on either side of Ray’s head. “So,” he drawled in a voice as smooth as fine whisky, “if I were you, I’d be thinking about getting myself laid, before any more bad luck befell me.”

“Good plan,” Ray grinned right back.

This was fun. The thrill of the chase, the adrenaline spike. God, how he’d missed this. He wanted it so much he could taste it.

He licked his lips in anticipation. Keith stepped closer, mingling their breath on the night air. Ray could feel the heat radiating from Keith’s body and he closed his eyes. Second later, warm lips covered his and he sighed, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss.

“You are one fucking sexy bastard,” Keith murmured against his lips, pressing hard against Ray, forcing him back against the cold wall, but Ray wasn’t feeling the cold anymore. He was feeling nothing but heat, and want and need, bubbling up inside him like a blast furnace.

Keith moved against him, grinding his hips slowly and rhythmically, until Ray couldn’t hold back a deep moan of pleasure. He was hard, so very hard and desperate to get off. Panting helplessly, he fisted the thin material of Keith’s t-shirt, tugging it out from the waistband of his kilt.

Keith’s hand found the fly of Ray’s jeans, and at the first cool caress of frigid November air on his cock, Ray gasped, thrusting his erection into the warmth of Keith’s hand.

This was nuts! Letting the kid give him a hand job out here in the open where anyone come see. They could be fucking arrested for this… He felt teeth on his neck and a hot puff of air against his ear.

“You want me to suck you, Ray?” Keith asked, voice like velvet.

“Fuck!” Ray squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated real hard on not coming.

When the door to the kitchen opened, Ray barely even noticed, but Keith jerked back leaving Ray slumped against the wall.

Fraser coughed and cleared his throat. “Pardon me. I was uh… I was wondering where Ray had…” Fraser looked from Keith to Ray and smiled woodenly. “I see you’re in good hands, Ray.”

No sooner had the door closed than Keith was all over Ray again. Ray wanted to call Fraser back, but his throat was dry and parched. He shoved Keith away, tucked himself in and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

“That was not cool,” he growled.

Keith sighed deeply and tucked his t-shirt back in. “Come on Ray, it’s not like he didn’t know, and we’re both adults.”

Which was true, but so not what Ray had meant. The last thing he wanted to do right now was piss Fraser off. Pushing away from the wall, Ray pulled open the door and went in search of his partner.

Hearing a muttered, “Fuck!” from Keith, he looked back over his shoulder and shrugged. “Sorry about the blue balls. Maybe later?”

Keith threw him a sardonic grin. “Aye, maybe.”

Forty minutes later, Ray still hadn’t managed to find Fraser. He kicked the door to their suite in frustration feeling like a complete ass-hole. Fraser shouldn’t have had to find out like that. Even if the guy had guessed, it was one thing having suspicions, and a whole other thing having them confirmed.

He needed to talk to Fraser, find out if they were still okay. He flung himself onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, listening for the sound of the suite door opening.

It was a very long and sleepless night.

The next morning Fraser greeted him with coffee and a smile, like nothing had happened. Ray decided to be cool and play along.

Eventually, Fraser would say something. He was sure of it. Until then, he could use the time to figure out the shit flying about inside his own head.