Blast from the past fanfiction cover
Cover graciously done by nicci_mac
A Blast from the Past

PAIRING: Fraser/Kowalski
SUMMARY: A hard knock to the head and Ray's not quite... Ray.
NOTES: Written for shoemaster for the Due South Seekrit Santa exchange of 2006. Requests were: Fraser/RayK, first time, amnesia and if possible from someone else's POV -- the last part I kinda cheated on *eg*
THANKS TO: nicci_mac for cheering and snowdrop3100 doing her, as always, fab beta work

"No, wait," he said, trying to back away from the insistent man. "I have no idea who you are, or who you think I am, but the name's Reginald Thornton, not Ray... anything." Too bad he couldn't just get up and leave. Being in a hospital bed and feeling a little woozy sure put a stop to that thought.

"Ray, please," the dark haired man tried to reason with him. "You have had a nasty knock on your head and you seem to have lost you memory or rather, one of your previous cover identities has come to the fore."

Reginald stared at him. Here he was, sitting in a bed with a gown on that let a breeze reach his ass and at the side of his bed was about the most gorgeous guy he'd ever seen. Only problem was he seemed to think Reginald was someone he wasn't.

"Look, babe, I have no idea what you're talking about," Reginald said, going for as lofty as he could make it. He was confused and woozy but he knew who he wasn't. "And I don't know who you are either."

The guy blinked a few times, eyes widening. Reginald wasn't sure if it was the babe comment that had slipped or that he claimed to not know the guy.

"I, eh...," there was a cough and flush that Reginald found absolutely intriguing. "I am Constable Benton Fraser of the RCMP and you are my partner, Stanley Raymond Kowalski, currently working undercover as one Raymond Vecchio."

Reginald shook his head. "I think I would have known if I had a drop dead gorgeous partner like you, hon. As for the names, I'm definitely not Italian and I would never have survived my teens with a name like Stanley."

Constable Fraser cleared his throat and continued. "It seems the personality that has come to the surface is one Reginald 'Reggie' Thornton, bartender and ..." he trailed off, flushing even more. "And stripper at the Last Chance bar."

Reggie nodded. "That's right."

Fraser frowned. "Just how old do you think you are?" he asked.

Reggie frowned. That was an odd question. "I'm 29, why?"

Pursing his lips (and oh boy did that make Reggie want to do things that mouth), Fraser nodded. "You went undercover as Reginald when you were 30. Ray, that was around 8 years ago."

Reggie laughed out loud. Now he knew that guy had him wrong.

Fraser sighed. "Please wait a moment, and I'll find a mirror."

Reggie watched him leave with a puzzled expression. "What an odd guy," he muttered to himself. As odd as the situation was, Reggie couldn't quite get over how his body was reacting to the guy. A certified Mountie? Wow. He couldn't wait to see the guy in uniform. Not that Reggie didn't like the casual look of jeans and sweater, but...

Maybe it was odd how he seemed to handle all of this, being told he was someone else. He didn't even remember what had landed him in the hospital in the first place, but he was pretty sure the Mountie... Benton, had him wrong.

Reggie prided himself of being easy going, but he figured if the guy kept this up, Reggie might get just a little bit tired of it. He wondered what day it was as well. He should maybe be thinking about calling sick for work because he wasn't sure he could tend bar tonight. Let alone drop the threads on the stage.

The door opened again and Fraser returned. Holding something behind his back, he watched Reggie curiously.

"What?" Reggie asked, worrying what the guy was up to.

"How would you describe yourself physically?" Fraser asked. "Hair color, style etc.?"

Reggie shrugged, wincing at the headache that kept building right at the temples. "I've got dark brown hair and a goatee," he said.

Fraser nodded, then held out the mirror he had been hiding behind his back.

For some odd reason, Reggie was afraid to look in the mirror all of the sudden.

When he did, he just stared. Christ, someone had glued a photo of another guy over it, right? Unfortunately, the image staring back at him looked equally unbelieving.

First of all, he looked like shit. Now, Reggie Thornton never looked like shit. The paleness could be due to the knock on the head that Fraser said he'd had, but the hair... His usually well trimmed dark hair was bleached and standing up on one side, while on the other it was flat and messed up.

Reggie just kept staring.

"I'm sorry, Ray," Fraser said quietly.

Reggie sat down on the couch. Well, it was his couch, according to Fraser.

The last couple of days had been wearing and Reggie yawned. They had finally managed to spring him from the hospital even if his memory hadn't returned. He was feeling so confused by now that he didn't know how to go on, but he'd put on a brave face because he wanted nothing more than to get out of the place.

He wasn't entirely sure that this was better, though. Now he was inside an apartment that seemingly should seem familiar to him but it didn't.

There were photos of him and Fraser, though. And there were some of a blonde woman that seemed to ring a bell with Reggie, but he wasn't sure.

"You should get some rest," Fraser said, pointing toward the bedroom. "I have called the Consulate and asked Turnbull to take care of Diefenbaker. Dief, however, I'm afraid he is rather miffed with me for not bringing him here."

Reggie stared at him. "What are you talking about? And who's Dief?"

"He is the half wolf..." Fraser trailed off. "Never mind," he said, looking a little defeated.

Reggie kind of felt bad for him, so he reached out and rubbed his hand along Fraser's arm. "I'll get some rest," he promised. He was getting pretty tired anyway. "You wanna join me?" he asked curiously.

Fraser stared at him, almost slack jawed, for a moment, then a flush spread slowly to color his cheeks.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I eh..." Fraser took a step back, but something about his reaction puzzled Reggie. So, he still wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but he had this beautiful guy here and anyone who'd ever known Reggie Thornton would testify that he would not let a chance like this go by.

Reggie took a step closer, leaning into Fraser's big, warm body. "Wow, you're really hot," Reggie muttered, giving Fraser his most seductive look, tilting his head to look up through his lashes.

He could hear how hard Fraser was breathing.

Reggie turned his head so that his lips were less than an inch from Fraser's.

"Please...," was all that Fraser got out before Reggie covered his mouth with his own.

Sweet Jesus! He was being eaten alive. The tongue inside his mouth was eager, almost desperate. Reggie was really getting into it, into the vice like grip that Fraser had on him...

Then it stopped.

"Dear God, Ray!" Fraser held him at an arm's length, staring at him with fear in his eyes.

"You want it, I want it," Reggie argued. "You can't tell me that's not true."

"I..." Fraser tailed off. Then he sighed deeply, looking so defeated that Reggie wanted nothing more than to hold onto him. If he'd thought Fraser would let him.

Reggie waited for him to go on.

Fraser finally met his eyes. "I am very much attracted to you, but I can not do this. When your memory returns, you would loathe me for taking advantage of you."

This time Reggie sighed. "You're really serious, aren't you?"

Fraser nodded.

Reggie took a deep breath. Damn, didn't look like he was getting laid tonight after all. With a shrug he turned toward the bedroom. "If you change your mind, you'll know where to find me." With that he left the living room, not daring to look back at Fraser.

It took a while before Reggie drifted off. He had had an annoying headache for most of the day, the kind that just loomed in the back of your head and the moment you relaxed, it jumped you.

Nausea made his stomach roll and he carefully got out of bed. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton and his head was threatening to fall off if he made any sudden moves.

Not daring to turn on the lights because he knew it would only make it worse, he made his way to the bathroom. Hanging onto the sink, he looked into the mirror.

"Whoa, Ray, you look like shit," he told his mirror image.

Splashing cold water into his face, he looked up again. Then he frowned. Something was niggling at the back of his mind. Shrugging it off, he grabbed a towel and left the bathroom.

He had been too fuzzy to pay attention when he'd left the bedroom but on the way back he stopped in his tracks, staring at the shadowed figure on the couch.

Then it hit him and Ray shook for a moment. Shit, he'd been acting out of sorts and he'd ...oh. He'd come out to Fraser. Or at least 'Reggie' had.

Confused by the flashes of fuzzy memories, Ray went and sat down on the edge of the couch. Fraser must've been tired, because he didn't even stir a little. Ray stayed there, watching his friend sleep.

There was something there... A warm feeling as he remembered that Fraser hadn't turned Reggie down because he wasn't tempted, but because of his fear of Ray's reaction.

Ray judged the couch to be wide enough and deftly slipped under the blanket that Fraser had pulled over his body.

"What...?" Fraser muttered sleepily.

Ray didn't answer, he just snuggled up to Fraser's warm body. Nice, the Mountie was dressed only in boxers and a t-shirt. Lots of warm skin to cozy up to.

"Ray... please, I told you I couldn't do this..." Fraser argued, trying to find a way out of Ray's embrace. Still, Ray only stubbornly tightened his arms.

"I know, Frase," he yawned. "And I promise we'll have a talk in the morning, but right now, I have to make sure you don't make like a tree in the middle of the night."

Fraser lay still for a moment. "Like a tree?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, leave," Ray explained sleepily.

"You're you," Fraser said.

Ray sniggered. "I'm me, alright, but I do remember you turned down poor 'Reggie'."

Fraser reluctantly slipped an arm up, running his fingers through Ray's hair. Uh-huh, now Ray knew why cats purred when you petted them.

"I was afraid of what you might say if I didn't," Fraser admitted.

Ray tilted his head up, brushing his lips over Fraser's. "I also remember that I kissed you," he admitted. He could feel the heat from Fraser's flushed face.


This time, Ray kissed him longer, with lots of tongue, figuring it would be the easiest way to shut Fraser up. It was, and it wasn't.

Fraser kept making all these little throaty noises as Ray pinned him against the back of the couch, gently exploring his mouth. Taking the chance, Ray slipped a hand up under Fraser's shirt and that seemed to do it.

Ray found himself on his back with Fraser's body holding him down. The couch might not be wide enough for too many acrobatics, but Ray wrapped his arms around Fraser and pulled him down for more kissing.

Moaning against Ray's lips, Fraser seemed to finally let go of his reservations, thrusting down against Ray's body.

Ray growled and dug his fingers into Fraser's ass, his headache forgotten. There was absolutely nothing that could compete with this. Arching his back, Ray felt the hardness rubbing against his own crotch and smiled against Fraser's mouth.

Amazingly, Fraser was the first one to shake as his release took him. Ray would have thought the guy had more stamina. Then again, it had probably been a very long time since he'd gotten any. Ray knew he wouldn't be far behind, because he sure hadn't been seeing anyone in ages.

Ray felt the tightening in his balls, and knew he'd been right. Man, this was good. If real sex with Fraser was better it might just kill him. Not that Ray was complaining.

"Oh, Ray," Fraser muttered, his face buried against Ray's neck.

"You know, Frase," Ray said through a yawn. "I think we should move this party to the bedroom."

Fraser pulled back, and even in what little light there was, Ray could see the surprise on his face. "Surely you do not mean to tell me that you are ready for another..." he trailed off.

Ray laughed out loud. "Frase, no, I'm not a teenager anymore," he explained. "I just meant the bed's better for sleeping in." Then with a wink and a quick squeeze of Fraser's ass that made him yelp, he added: "I figure we can use the bed for more sex in the morning when we're both rested."

Fraser stared at him for a moment, then a small, hesitant smile appeared. "I had not dared hope..."

"Well, seems like we were both a little blind," Ray snorted. Arching his hips a little, Ray pointed toward the bedroom. "Let's go, buddy. I want to get out of my boxers before they stick permanently to my skin."

With a quick kiss to Ray's mouth, Fraser stood and gave him a hand up.

"Come on," Ray said with another yawn. "I ain't gettin' any younger here."

A soft laugh escaped Fraser, but he didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Ray recognized the slightly dopey smile. He was pretty sure he was wearing an identical one.

Maybe getting knocked on the head wasn't all that bad.

The End