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“Here’s the wine you said to get,” Ray said, placing it on the counter, four of the six-pack of beer he also had in the fridge, and the last two in the freezer. At Fraser’s glance, he pointed a finger. “Dad’s not a wine guy – I told you that. Where do you think I get it from?”
“Hello to you too, Ray.”
“Hello dear, I hope you're doing well,” Ray replied, rolling his eyes. “I was gone twenty minutes, not all day.” Dief barked and bumped against his leg. “Not you too,” he grumbled, reaching down to scratch briefly behind Dief’s ears.
“Thanks again for doing the cooking,” Ray said, leaning against the counter by the stove. “If it had been me, that roast would be raw. Or burnt to a crisp. Or both.”
“You would have done a fine job of it. You’re a good cook,” Fraser said as he opened the oven door the tiniest bit.
He was, Ray knew that. Not chef-level, and nothing fancy, but he was decent. Still, there was no way he’d have been able to make tonight’s dinner without botching something. While he and his parents were definitely on better terms than in the past, this was the first time he and Ben would be welcoming them into their home since it became, well, their home. And being good with your queer kid from several states away was a lot different from being okay with it up close and personal.
Ray slipped behind Fraser, wrapped his arms around him after he straightened back up, leaned his head against his back and sighed.
Fraser, of course, knew exactly why Ray was so antsy. He gripped Ray’s hands, then pulled Ray’s arms away just enough to turn around in them. “Tonight will be fine,” he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Ray’s lips. “Your parents have been nothing but supportive regarding our relationship.”
“From a distance, yeah.” Fraser raised an eyebrow, and Ray slumped in his arms. “Okay, and in person too. I know, I know. I guess I’m just used to expecting the worst. I’m still not even sure my dad is happy that I’m a cop. Oh hey, remember that any work stories we tell need to be on the safer side. I mean, I get that they'll be crazy – that comes with the territory. But the less dangerous the better.”
“Our job does come with some inherent danger,” Fraser replied. “Your parents are aware of that.”
“Yeah, but there's aware and there's aware. I just don't want to worry them more than they already do.”
“Fair enough.”
“You're the best,” Ray said, leaning in for a kiss.
A knock at the door made him groan as Fraser pulled away. “You answer that, and I'll check how much longer the roast needs,” Fraser said, turning Ray and nudging him toward the kitchen door.
“Fine, but don't think I don't know what you're doing. You talk a good game, but I know what's going on. You can't avoid them forever.”
“I'm not avoiding your parents. It just makes sense that you greet them,” Fraser said as he disappeared back into the kitchen. Ray knew better; he wasn't the only one worried about how Ray's folks really felt. Fraser had been double extra-polite to his folks since they found out he and Ray were a couple. And he definitely made sure he was never alone with them.
“Hey, keep Dief in there with you, at least until they're settled,” Ray called back as he opened the door, catching his father mid-knock. “Hey Dad.”
Before he could respond, Ray's mother was pushing past them both to enter the apartment, a large, tinfoil-covered tray in her hands. “Well, let's see your place, Stanley,” she said, holding out the tray for him to take.
“Ma, I told you not to bring anything. Fraser and me have got dinner covered.”
“That isn't dinner, it's just some paszteciki that can go straight into the freezer,” she replied as she took off her coat. “Unless you don't want your mother's home cooking?”
“We do, thank you,” Fraser said as he appeared from out of nowhere, neatly taking her coat and trading it with Ray for the tray. “I'll just take care of this and Ray can take your things.” He nodded to them and was headed toward the kitchen before Ray knew what was happening.
“Uh, yeah, I'll just... Dad, give me your jacket and I'll hang it up. You two make yourselves comfortable.”
As he hung up their coats he heard Fraser asking them about drinks, but he'd already disappeared by the time Ray came into the room. His folks were looking at the knick-knacks he and Fraser had on the bookshelf. “That carving was done by a friend of Ben's, back in Canada,” he told them, gesturing toward a small stone figure of a wolf. “She's real good.”
His father gave an absent nod as he continued to look around the room, pausing at the chili lights framing one window.
“It's nice, makes things more homey,” his mother said, giving him a smile.
“It's a work in progress.” He clapped his hands together. “How about I give you the nickel tour?” Not that there was much to see, as it was a pretty open plan, but at least it gave them something to talk about for a minute or two. Ray’s mother had questions and comments that kept them talking. Though when they got to the guest room/office that was definitely not Fraser’s bedroom, it got awkward again. That compounded when he showed them their bedroom, even though it was as neat as if no one had ever slept there, let alone did anything else.
A small crash from the kitchen had them all turned toward the doorway just in time to see Diefenbaker slink out and dash past them into the bedroom. They could hear Fraser still talking, “- extremely inconsiderate, especially with Ray’s parents as guests.”
“I’ll just go and see if I can help,” Ray’s mother said. She was in the kitchen before Ray could respond, leaving him and his father standing there. Ray closed the guest room door most of the way and shrugged. “So that’s it, I guess.”
His father nodded, and Ray returned it, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “So, uhm, how’s the RV. Still treating you right?”
“It runs well enough, Little cramped, but your mother and I have it pretty much figured out.”
“Don’t know if I could go around like that in such a small space without punching Fraser in the head after awhile.”
“You get used to it. And it makes your mother happy.” He gave Ray a look. “Don’t think I’d ever be able to hike across all that snow like you did.”
“It was definitely something else,” Ray said, chuckling. “But like you said. If it makes them happy…”
Luckily, his mom came back out then, Fraser trailing behind her with drinks for everyone on a tray Ray didn't even know they owned. He gave Ray's parents their drinks before setting his and Ray's on the table. “Dinner is ready, if you'd like to take a seat. Ray, can you help me bring it out?”
Ray was all too happy to help, since it meant the end of trying to make small talk. Not that dinner wouldn't be more of that, but at least it would be all four of them. And there were some easy topics of conversation – Ray's folks had made friends with the Vecchios after everything got settled, even co-hosted a combination welcome back party for he and Fraser and a going away party for Vecchio and Stella. So they'd have them to talk about.
And, of course, the food, which everyone loved because how could they not? Though nobody was stupid enough to say it was better than Ray's mother could make. Fraser of course tried to play off how good he was at cooking but Ray wasn't having it.
“Don't listen to him. Ben's definitely the better cook out of the two of us. He just likes mine because after Turnbull's crazy experimental cooking, anything would taste good. Assuming you had any tastebuds left after he got through with them.”
“Constable Turnbull definitely has his own unique style,” Fraser said. “But that doesn't discount Ray's abilities in the kitchen.”
“Well, two good cooks is better than one,” Ray's mother said. “And you're definitely a good cook, Ben. Better than Stella was.”
“That's for sure,” Ray laughed. “Stella's great at a lot of stuff, but she never liked to cook. Which is why I know how to at all, I guess. Survival technique.”
“It's a good thing Ray likes to cook then,” Fraser observed.
Ray's mother perked up at that. “How are Ray and Stella? And the rest of the Vecchios?”
“Settling in, from what Ray tells me,” Fraser answered. “They were here last month for a few days, after the baby was born.”
“That's right! Frannie had her baby! She sent us a picture... such an adorable little angel.”
“I still can't believe how well you all get along,” Ray said.
“Would you rather your mother start asking you about having kids again?” his father asked.
Ray would not; it was bad enough when he and Stella were together. “Nope. If Frannie's good with having an extra set of grandparents for her kid, more power to her.” He shrugged. “Not like it's a great idea in our line of work anyhow, especially since we're partners.”
Ray's mother lost her smile at that, and he backtracked quickly. “Too many late nights and crazy schedules, that's all I meant. We've talked about this a hundred times. Yes, being a cop can be risky. So can lots of jobs.”
“I know, dear,” she replied, shifting her food around with her fork. Yeah, Ray knew she wasn't buying it, but he kept going anyhow.
“It’s really not that dangerous. Except for the part where I might die the death of a thousand papercuts from all the forms they have us filling out now.” Ray joked, rolling his eyes. “Seems like a new one’s added every day.”
“I can’t help but worry, you know that. You’re my baby.”
“I’m a grown man, Ma. And much smarter than the guys we catch. Like the other day, there was this guy who’d snatched some lady’s purse. Remember him, Fraser? No way he was gonna outrun me, so he jumps into traffic at a stoplight, yanks some poor sap out of their car, and starts to drive away.”
“So you lost him?” his father asked.
“Nope!” Ray laughed. “The car he’d tried to steal was stick, and he didn’t know how to drive it. Stalled it out right away, and we got him for both stealing the purse and the car. Oh, and the house arrest, remember that one, Ben?”
“Do you mean the gentleman who tried to rob the house you were already in?”
“That’s the one!” He turned toward his parents. “See, this house had gotten hit overnight, so we were there to investigate, take statements, that kind of thing. And it wasn’t just me and Fraser, some uniforms were there too. Anyhow, I was inside with the victims when Fraser comes back inside and asks me 'Ray, were you perhaps looking for someone?'”
“So I turn around to see Fraser in the doorway, holding this guy in all black, mask over his face and everything.”
“Was it the robber returning to the scene of the crime?” his mother asked. “Does that really happen – I thought that was a dramatic thing that only happens in movies.”
“It was not, though criminals do in fact return to where they committed crimes more often than one might think,” Fraser said. “In this case, however, it was a different person, who’d also been hoping to rob this particular house. He was attempting to pick the lock of the back door when I found him.”
“Hadn’t even realized we were there because that time of day usually the people living there were at work,” Ray added. “And the guy who robbed it first was dumb enough to try and fence the stuff right away, including jewelry that was easy to identify. So we got both of them.”
“Sounds like there's some pretty dumb criminals out there,” his father said.
“Yep, and that's the kind of thing I deal with most of the time. I think my new favorite is the bank robbery we sort of stopped last week.”
“Sort of?” Ray's mother asked.
“In the sense that it hadn't actually started when we stopped it, yes,” Fraser said. “I arrived at the station and Ray told me he'd gotten a call about a robbery in progress. As it turned out, it was actually a call about a robbery that was scheduled to take place a few hours later. The bank had gotten a call from the man telling them he was going to rob them, and asking if they'd have the money ready when he got there.”
“You're kidding, that didn't really happen,” Ray's father protested.
“It did!” Ray said with a laugh. “Guy was serious too – all we had to do was wait for him to show. Easiest arrest I ever made. I told Fraser the guy must be Canadian. Most polite criminal in history.”
“Well, I won't ever stop worrying about you, but it does make me feel better knowing you're looked out for.” Ray's mother reached over and covered Fraser's hand with her own, giving it a squeeze. “That you look out for each other.”
Ray watched Fraser's cheeks pink up as he met her eyes. “I will always do my best.”
The rest of their dinner was spent in much lighter conversation, including updates on Ray's brother and his family (for which Ray was grateful, since his two nephews also took any kid-related pressure off of him). Afterward they sat in the main room, drinking coffee, or in Fraser's case tea, and looking at recent pictures of his parent's travels. As nice as it was, Ray was kind of glad when he saw his dad stifling a yawn. His mom picked up on it too, and started putting stuff away so they could go. Fraser had to almost physically stop her from helping wash the dishes; only Ray promising he'd help convinced her it was okay to leave them.
“Next time you cook for us, Stanley,” his mom said as he helped her with her coat. “Don't you make that nice young man of yours do all the work. The best relationships are partnerships.”
“Yes ma'am,” Ray replied, then pulled her in for a hug. “Love you, Ma.”
“I love you too. And I'm happy to see you so happy.” She hugged him a few more seconds before letting go. “We should go, though. It's getting late.”
“You want we should walk you to the RV?”
“We'll be fine, it's just a few blocks,” his dad said. “Unless this neighborhood isn't as safe as you've been telling us.”
“It's good. Just trying to be nice. I think it's from being around Ben so long – his Canadian-ness is rubbing off on me.”
“We'll be fine,” his dad repeated with a little smile, holding his hand out for Ray to shake. He shot a glance in Fraser's direction. “Looks like you will be too. Can't say I understand it, definitely never expected it, but you're happy. And that's all your mother and I want.”
Ray stood there a few seconds, unable to speak. When he could get out, “Thanks, Dad,” his voice had a rough edge to it. His dad just nodded, then cleared his throat and went to shake Fraser's hand and thank him for dinner.
Ray blew out a relieved breath as he locked the door after they left. “Okay, okay, you were right. It wasn't so bad.”
“You might even say it was a very good evening.”
“Surprisingly, it was,” Ray agreed. “But I'm still glad they don't live so close that we'd have to do this on the regular.”
“There is something to be said for having a bit of distance.”
“What, like absence makes the heart grow fonder?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of the quotation that calls family a 'dear octopus from whose tentacles we never quite escape, nor, in our inmost hearts, ever quite wish to.'”
“Sounds about right,” Ray said, moving to Fraser and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “I can think of someone with octopus-like tendencies who I never want to escape.”
“Can you now?” Fraser raised an eyebrow, and at a look from Ray put his arms around his waist. “I believe I can say the same.”
“If the shoe fits... hey, can you put shoes on a tentacle? That would be weird. And expensive – that's four pairs of shoes.”
Fraser leaned in to whisper, “I was thinking about a less-clothed octopus, rather than more.” He kissed the tip of Ray's ear lightly before moving down to his neck.
Ray tightened his hold as the sensation buzzed through him. He shifted to pull Fraser's face to his, the kiss he laid on Fraser clear in its intent. The dishes he'd promised he'd help with could wait.
After all, there was more than one way to be a great partner.