Far from home, in an unfamiliar city Fraser should have felt completely out of place. This wasn’t his country, the people here were different, the culture was different, this was the place he was most of out of place. And yet he belonged here.
He belonged in a place with tall buildings and concrete, where fresh air was virtually non-existent. He belonged in a place where when it did snow the snow was trampled on or cleared away and there were few stars in the night sky. He belonged in Chicago because he belonged with one of its residents, Ray Vecchio.
Ray had always felt a bit out of place. Sure Chicago was his home he’d been born and brought up in the city, the city was where his life was but he’d never felt like he belonged, not quite.
He never fitted in at work, not really. He’d struggled when he was with a partner, he’d struggled less without one, so he was left on his own, doing the caseload of two. Sometimes he felt he shouldn’t be a cop, that he didn’t belong as a detective. Then he’d met someone with whom he did belong, one Benton Fraser.
It was late, just after 1AM and the guy Ray had been staking out had yet to appear. The long nights used to drag much more when Fraser wasn’t there to tell Inuit stories, or pass on handy survival tips or just listen to Ray comment on how cold he was getting. Then Fraser would take Ray’s hand and Ray would squeeze it and both of them would know, just know that they belonged. Whether it was in the Riv, on a stakeout or in a bustling street together, they belonged.
Together, due South, Fraser/Vecchio, belonging, G
He belonged in a place with tall buildings and concrete, where fresh air was virtually non-existent. He belonged in a place where when it did snow the snow was trampled on or cleared away and there were few stars in the night sky. He belonged in Chicago because he belonged with one of its residents, Ray Vecchio.
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Ray had always felt a bit out of place. Sure Chicago was his home he’d been born and brought up in the city, the city was where his life was but he’d never felt like he belonged, not quite.
He never fitted in at work, not really. He’d struggled when he was with a partner, he’d struggled less without one, so he was left on his own, doing the caseload of two. Sometimes he felt he shouldn’t be a cop, that he didn’t belong as a detective. Then he’d met someone with whom he did belong, one Benton Fraser.
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It was late, just after 1AM and the guy Ray had been staking out had yet to appear. The long nights used to drag much more when Fraser wasn’t there to tell Inuit stories, or pass on handy survival tips or just listen to Ray comment on how cold he was getting. Then Fraser would take Ray’s hand and Ray would squeeze it and both of them would know, just know that they belonged. Whether it was in the Riv, on a stakeout or in a bustling street together, they belonged.