At first, Ray was so dazed, that he didn’t notice the light show had changed to flashing blue. It wasn’t until he heard the siren that it began to dawn on him that they might not have Mr Big on their tails after all. Fraser seemed to be coming to the exact same conclusion. He tried to disentangle their legs and arms long enough to push himself upright.

Ray had half been expecting to see a black and white striped panda car like in those old British Police dramas on the entertainment channel. The big shiny four by four with its bull bars and strip of coloured lights on the roof came as a bit of a surprise. "It's okay, Frase," he grinned. "It's the cops."

Before they could get their feet beneath them, two police officers in helmets and Kevlar had them down in the mud again with their hands pinned behind their backs, and Fraser was yelling to Dief that everything was okay. The wolf clearly didn’t believe Frase, or just couldn’t make out what he was trying to say, because he was advancing on a third cop with fangs bared.

Ray hoped that the cop with the gun aimed at Dief didn’t have an itchy trigger finger. "Hey, Rambo, don't shoot. We're cops!"

The guy currently kneeling on Ray's back eased off a little and shone a torch in Ray's face. "Are ye Kowalski and Fraser?" he asked. Ray nodded and suddenly he was being hauled to his feet. Fraser appeared beside him, trying to brush some of the moor off his clothes and for once, failing.

"Sarge, we got them,” the guy yelled into a radio. “They seem to be fine, sir."

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Ray muttered, rubbing at his lower back where the cop's knee had pressed. He wasn’t going to be able to walk straight for at least a week. Then again, he'd have this guys knee in his back over a .44 magnum bullet any day.

"Sorry about that," the cop said holding out his hand for Fraser to shake. "Detective Constable Hastings. We thought you might be more of Carboni's men. We found two back at the cottage but they wouldn’t tell us where you were."

"You were looking for us?" Fraser asked, trying to suppress a shiver. Now that the adrenalin spike was falling off, Ray felt the cold fingers of mist creeping through his shirt too.

"We intercepted Carboni at Aberdeen airport, thanks to a tip off from your Lieutenant Welsh. One of his men gave us the whereabouts of the Constable, in return for a lighter jail sentence."

Someone had draped a warm blanket around Ray's shoulders and was leading him towards the police car. “What about DeMarco? Did you get him too?”

In the front seat, Hastings twisted around and frowned. “Sebastian DeMarco? Manager of Castle Fraser?”

“Yeah, him,” Ray growled, sneaking a sideways glance at his partner to see how he was coping with the latest shock. And he was coping just fine it seemed. He was looking rather sheepish actually.

Surprisingly, it was Fraser that answered Ray’s question. “DeMarco may well be in custody by now, Ray, but not for being involved in the Carboni case. You see, I’ve always been aware that Sebastian was involved in criminal activities. In fact, I was asked to take part in a joint venture with Scotland Yard when they became aware that the new owner of the castle was a member of the RCMP…”

Ray was cold, and he was wet, and he was tired. He couldn’t face one of Fraser’s long stories right now.

“Cut to the chase, Fraser!”

“DeMarco is the ringleader in a fraudulent business selling Scottish land and titles to gullible Americans. Right before I took Dief out for his walk, I’d heard from Scotland Yard that they had enough evidence to convict him. I was going to tell you when I got back.”

“Jesus.” Ray tried to wrap his head around this. Fraser had been investigating the Italian gigolo the whole time? “Jesus,” he repeated.

The sun was almost up, painting the sky orange and gold. He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He'd had worse nights. Not many, but at least he'd survived this one in one piece. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he said quietly. “I could have helped.”

Fraser sighed. “I wanted to, Ray, believe me. WPC McDonald was sent to keep an eye on things by Scotland Yard when they discovered you would be accompanying me. They were less than happy about…”

“Whoa, back up there buddy. Daphne? Daphne is a cop?”

“Yes, Ray. An undercover policewoman.”

Ray rubbed at the back of his neck in disbelief. “The castle’s not yours then?”

“Ah, that at least was no deception. I really have inherited Castle Fraser.”

Ray shook his head and closed his eyes. He decided that he would not speak to Fraser again until he’d had at least two glasses of whiskey.

Maybe three.

***

Dief had been checked out by a local vet and given some heavy-duty painkillers to help him sleep. He’d taken a nasty beating, but luckily nothing was broken. He had a gash on his face, which was the source of all the blood Ray had encountered, but again, no fractured skull or even concussion. The wolf was made of Teflon or something. Ray wasn’t even complaining that Dief had chosen his bed to sack out on.

"Yeah, he's good. He's fine. He's in the shower right now, washing off Scotland." Ray lay on the couch wearing one of the fluffy white bathrobes provided by the hotel, with the phone cradled to his ear. Welsh and Thatcher seemed to be fighting for control of the receiver on the other end. One minute he was trying to give Welsh a half way coherent report, the next he was trying to convince the Ice Queen that her precious Mountie was still in perfect condition.

His eyes drifted to the closed bathroom door. He could hear Fraser singing even over the noise from the shower. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine…

"… um yes, sir!" he sat bolt upright hearing the exasperation in Welsh's voice. "Got a flight booked already." Ray put the phone down and scrubbed a hand roughly through his hair, making it stand up on end.

"Were you just on the telephone?"

Ray refused to turn around and look at Fraser. He didn’t need to be looking at him to know he would be wearing nothing but a towel, another one draped around his neck, barefoot and still wet from the shower. He did NOT need to see that. He did not need to smell that either. "Yeah, Ice Queen wants you back ASAP. She didn’t believe you were really in one piece."

When Fraser didn’t reply, Ray finally glanced over his shoulder. The sight of damp and half naked Mountie didn’t have the expected result. Not when all he could see was how dejected Fraser looked. He knew what was coming even before Fraser spoke.

"I won't be going back, Ray."

And there it was. Out there. Hanging in the air between them. Ray's worst nightmare. Okay, maybe not his worst nightmare, but right up there with all the other wake-up-screaming-in-a-cold-sweat extravaganzas.

"I though maybe with DeMarco in jail, you might think twice about staying." Fraser had come here primarily to catch the bad guy. Mission accomplished, Ray had begun to hope that Fraser might be missing Chicago after all. He wasn’t aware that he'd been staring at the floor until Fraser's naked feet appeared in his field of vision.

"And I had hoped that your feelings for Keith might be enough to keep you here," Fraser whispered.

He couldn’t look up. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Fraser's toes. They were damned sexy toes. He'd often fantasised about licking them and… What? Wait? Fraser had hoped he would stay here?

“What?”

“Ray, I’m so sorry about Keith. I rather selfishly saw your relationship as a way of keeping you close, which was terribly wrong of me. You’ve been hurt, and I…”

“Wait a minute, Fraser. You wanted me to stay here? In Scotland? Why?”

Fraser knelt down and then Ray had no option but to look up into his worried face. So many emotions coursing over his features. “Because I love you, Ray.”

He knew Fraser loved him. There had never been any question about that. They were tight as thieves, him and Ben. But there was a world of difference between loving someone and being in love with them. “You figured that Keith would persuade me to up sticks and move here? Jesus, Fraser, I barely knew the guy.”

Fraser nodded sadly. “Like I said, it was a foolish fancy.”

Maybe it was the relief of surviving their ordeal, or maybe it was the note of defeat in Fraser’s voice that made Ray blurt out, “All you had to do was ask, Frase. I would have stayed. Willingly.”

Fraser’s look was one of bewilderment. “All the people you love are in Chicago, Ray.”

“No, not all of them,” Ray sighed, reaching out to caress Fraser’s cheek. He knew that Fraser wanted the best of both, worlds; his new life in a whole new country, and the continued companionship of his best friend, and hell, Ray wanted that too. But he couldn’t leave the truth untold. Fraser deserved to have all the facts. Tracing Fraser’s lower lip with his thumb, he looked into Fraser’s eyes and smiled. “Home is where the heart is, Frase. Remember?”

Fraser looked startled. “Are you… are you saying… What exactly are you saying?” he stuttered.

It was now or never.

“I'm saying, I love you,” Ray replied, licking his lips. “Madly, and very, very passionately.” This would be moment when Fraser finally ‘got it’ and pulled back. Ray was sure Fraser would be gentle in his rejection, but it still hurt like hell to know that this was how their duet would end.

Fraser gulped. “You do?” Ray nodded, watching him warily, still lightly stroking his face with a thumb. “I had no idea, Ray. You managed to conceal it very well. Until I saw the way you reacted to Keith, I had no inkling you were open to…” Fraser floundered over quite the right words to use and Ray sighed, finally letting his hand drop from Fraser’s face.

“Yeah, well, couldn’t risk spooking ya, buddy. You mean too much to me.”

Ray would have stood up; only Fraser’s hands were suddenly, and unexpectedly on his knees, keeping him in place.

“I thought… I was sure I’d made my own interest abundantly clear. You didn’t seem to notice, so I assumed you only wanted friendship. Dear God, Ray! All this time…”

“Fraser?”

“Yes, Ray”

“Your own interest?”

“Yes, Ray.”

“You’re interested in me?”

“Yes, Ray.”

“Fuck!”

Ray surged forward, slamming their lips together without finesse, and felt Fraser's indrawn breath, stolen from this own mouth. He’d meant it to be gentle, sweet even, but Fraser kissed him like a starving man. Within seconds, they were devouring each other, shoving aside towels and robes until fingers found flesh and Ray was hard and panting. This was not furtive groping session – this was Fraser kissing him and touching him everywhere. This was Fraser, and he wanted things to be right between them.

“Wait!” He shoved Fraser off him, and they landed on the floor with a thump. Fraser looked confused and more than a little embarrassed.

“If I’ve misinterpreted your intentions in any way…”

“No, no.” Ray tried to get his breath back, pulling his discarded robe over his legs. “It’s just, I wanna do this right. I wanna do it slow.”

Fraser blinked. “Ray, I’m afraid we don’t have the option of slow. You need to leave for your flight in less than an hour.”

It was Ray’s turn to blink. “What? Fraser! I’m not goin’ back. I’m staying with you. Did you not hear a word I was saying earlier?”

Did Fraser think all he wanted was a quick fuck, then bye-bye? Surely Fraser knew him better than that. When he was in love, he was in all the way. Forever.

Fraser seemed to slump against him. “I hoped as much Ray, and although I’m overjoyed to hear you say it, you still need to go back. You have a trial to attend. And then there’s your apartment and you need to work your notice.”

Damn, he hadn’t thought of that. Trust Fraser to be all ‘sensible’ when they were sitting on the floor, all but naked.

“Okay, okay, but the minute I get back – your ass is mine.”

“Understood.” Fraser kissed him again, but this time it was soft and gentle and full of promise.

On Ray's bed, Dief made three circles before settling down again with his back to the open bedroom door. Some things about human behaviour, he didn’t need to know.

***

Epilogue

Fraser was waiting for Ray at the airport in Aberdeen. He was smiling like a loon and wearing a damned kilt. Ray had been having dreams involving Fraser, a kilt and a gallon of baby oil, so he had to will his erection down just to make it out of the terminal without jumping him.

In the parking lot, Fraser took Ray’s cases and threw them into the back of the land rover. Dief made intimate with his ear, which made him feel right at home already. They made small talk all the way back to the castle. Ray did his best to be patient, wishing that for once in his life, Fraser would break a speed limit. He needed to get Fraser somewhere private. Fast.

“So, how was the trial?”

“Huh?” Ray had been wondering if a man could suffocate under the folds of a kilt, especially if he was breathing through his nose at the time. “Oh, uh, yeah. Went great. Carboni’s going down for a long time. Keith testified against him to get a lighter sentence, but we couldn’t guarantee anything on account of how he’s being extradited back to Scotland for trial.”

Fraser nodded. “Was it very difficult? Seeing him again I mean?”

Ray snorted. “He asked if I’d come visit him in prison. And when he said ‘visit’, I think he meant visit.”

“And will you?”

Ray reached over and placed his hand on Fraser’s bare knee. “Nah, Got everything I need right here. What about deMarco?”

“He’s being deported. I’m afraid I need to hire a new estate manager.”

“Make sure the next one’s not a felon?” Ray grinned, giving Fraser a sideways glance. “Or a hot Italian gigolo.”

“Understood, Ray.”

The rest of the drive was concluded in silence. At the castle, Fraser gave instructions that no-one was to disturb him, dropped Dief off at the kitchen, and led Ray to the elevator. It was only once they were inside that Fraser dropped some of his iron control and shoved Ray against the wall, kissing him into a shivering, rock hard wreck.

“Missed you,” he breathed against Ray’s kiss swollen lips.

Ray wasn’t at all sure he was going to make it to the suite before testing out the whole breathing/kilt scenario. Especially if Fraser kept doing, oh… that with his hands.

To distract himself as much as Fraser, Ray sunk both hands into that wonderful, glossy black hair and tugged him in for another tonsil excavating kiss.

When Ray finally let Fraser speak, Fraser asked, “So you don’t mind the midges?”

It was such a weird change of subject that Ray had to wonder if Fraser was having to resort to a little bit of misdirection himself. “Bugs don’t scare me,” he grinned.

“Or the Sticky Willie?”

“I can cope with the plant life.”

“Or the language?”

“I can learn it, given time.”

“What about the haggis?”

Ray shoved Fraser back until he had him pinned to the other wall of the elevator. “Not if I live to be a hundred.”

Fortunately the ancient doors creaked open at that point, saving Ray the inconvenience of having to try to talk with Fraser’s tongue in his mouth. Grabbing a fistful of Fraser’s shirt, Ray dragged him to the suite and shoved him through the door.

They had made it to the room, but there was no way in hell they were making it onto a bed. Ray kicked the door closed then spun Fraser around, pinning him to the door before sinking very slowly to his knees.

Fraser gulped. He obviously knew what Ray had planned. His head fell back against the wood with a thud. Ray rubbed his face gently across the silky smooth fur on Fraser’s sporran, then nosed it aside to rub his face against the hard bulge beneath the folds of wool. He ran his hands up Fraser’s calves, hearing his partner scrabbling at the door with his nails when Rays hands continued to glide ever upwards, finally stopping only when they were cupping Fraser’s naked ass.

“True Scotsman, eh?” he mumbled into the scratchy woollen material. Fraser only made a grunt in response.

Moments later, Ray was enveloped in the folds of the kilt. It was dark and very hot in there, but heat and the delicious aroma of Fraser were more potent than alcohol to Ray as he sucked Fraser’s cock down again and again. It had been a long time since he’s given head, but going by the sounds Fraser was making, he hadn’t forgotten a thing.

Fraser’s knees gave and Ray helped him slide down the door, never taking his lips from Fraser’s cock. Once he had Fraser sprawled on the floor, he flipped the kilt off his head so that Fraser could see everything he was doing, and wrapping a fist around the base, he began working Fraser with both hand and mouth until Fraser yelled his name, convulsed, and came explosively down Ray’s throat.

They lay on the hard floor, panting for a while, before Ray could think of anything to say. “I need to find a job. No way I’m going to be a kept man.”

Beneath him, Fraser’s low rumbling laugh vibrated through his still twitching body. “I was hoping you would accept the position of Castle Security Manager. I need someone with your instincts to make sure everything runs smoothly.”

“Does it pay well?” Ray asked coyly. “Are there any incentives?”

Fraser moved so quickly that Ray never saw it coming. He was flipped onto his back, and pinned to the floor in less than two seconds. “Name your price?” Fraser growled, grinding his hip against Ray’s erection.

Ray groaned and for a few moments, speech was the last thing on his mind. When Fraser finally stopped with the distractions, Ray opened his eyes and gazed up into the stormy blue depths of Fraser’s eyes. “Just you.” he whispered. “That’s all I want.”

“Deal,” Fraser replied softly before leaning down to kiss him.

By the time Fraser let him up for air, Ray was half blind with lust. He fumbled at his belt and zipper, but in the end, Fraser had to help.

“Perhaps now you'll appreciate the benefits of the kilt, Ray?” Fraser asked huskily against Ray's throat as he finally, oh, God, finally got Ray's cock out and wrapped it in his big, hot hand.

“Oh, yeah!” Ray breathed, relaxing into the slow, almost teasing pace Fraser was setting. “Gotta get me one of those. Nice and airy in the summer months...”

Fraser shoved Ray's t-shirt up and began worrying his nipple to a peak. “Mmm,” he mumbled, sucking hard.

“Don't know about the... oh, God! The, um winter... The winds can be a bit... fuck, fuck, Oh! FUCK! CHILLY... “ Ray roared as Fraser abandoned his nipple to slide down over his belly and swallow his cock right down to the root.

Fraser, being all polite and Canadian, didn't reply. His mouth was full.

Ray watched in utter amazement. Fraser, buttoned up and battened down Fraser, the god dammed prefect Mountie, was going down on him like a pro.

“You been thinking about... this the whole time... I was away?” he panted.

Fraser slowly raised his head, releasing Ray's cock with a wet, pop. “I've been thinking about this since I first met you, Ray. In my fantasy, I have to admit, you talked a lot less, and groaned a lot more.”

Ray couldn't help snickering. Even during sex, Fraser had to get a jab in. Taking a deep breath, he lay back on the floor and let out a somewhat theatrical groan. Fraser took the hint and went back to doing what he was doing, and it wasn't long before Ray's groans were heartfelt and real. He almost knocked himself senseless on the floor when he came.

Later, lying in bed, finally naked and just about satiated, Ray stared out of the window at the rolling grasslands and hills surrounding their castle. His head rested on Fraser's chest, and he could hear his heart beating steadily beneath his ear.

He smiled, remembering what his mum always said. “Home is where the heart is, son. Always remember that.”

Turned out, his mum was right.

The end.