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Title: Benton and the Amazing Mint Green 1972 Buick Riviera
Author: Cicero
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Vecchio/Fraser (or Fraser/Vecchio)
Rating: PG-13, for language and sexual situations (the story is actually less exciting than I'm making it sound right now)
Summary: Fraser tries to replace something that Vecchio loves (thus vicariously Fraser is quite fond of it, too), and finds it to be impossible. Kowalski feels useless, and finds that to be the story of his life.
Email Address: Cicerothewriter@livejournal.com
Categories: Drama, humor (sort of a tragicomedy right now)
Feedback notes: Any kind of feedback will be appreciated, even if you just write me a one-line email telling me that you've read the story, and I will be happy.
Warnings: Slash. That means gay sex. If you don't like gay sex, then don't read this story. Also, while this is a Vecchio/Fraser pairing, Kowalski plays a prominent role in the story. So, if you don't like Kowalski then don't read this story.
Notes: It has been a long time since I've written in the Due South fandom. However, this morning I was going through some of my old stories (I'd forgotten that I had written some of this stuff), and felt like sprucing a couple of them up. This particular story is set in season three. I don't like season three, so this story only uses certain elements from those first two or three episodes: Vecchio is on a dangerous undercover assignment, Ray Kowalski was left in his place, Fraser's apartment burned to the ground, and Huey got a new partner.
Notes 2: The entire series is still a work-in-progress, but I think that this part should still be able to stand on its own.
Disclaimer: I don't own Due South. I am writing this for fun, not profit.

I was with Fraser and Diefenbaker, in the parking lot of the mall, trying to unlock the trunk of my car while balancing a load of bags and wrapped packages in my other arm. Fraser's arms were already full otherwise he would have helped. Dief, smart wolf, stood away from us, chewing on a large pretzel.

"I hope you can give Barbies to four year olds," I said.

"I'm sure you can, Ray. The box only says three and under," Fraser replied, shifting his load a bit.

"Yeah, but little kids don't know no better. I remember one time my brother..."

"Ray," he said sharply. I looked where he was pointing - how he managed not to drop any of his packages, I'll never understand - and saw a familiar green 1972 Buick Riviera drive right by us. In the side window there was a "For Sale" sign.

"Stop, stop, please stop!" Fraser shouted. "Diefenbaker, go!" he said pointing at the Riv.

Dief shot off like his butt was on fire, and Fraser followed him.

"Hey!" I shouted. "We can use my car!"

They didn't listen, so I shoved all of my stuff into the front, jumped in, started my baby up, and followed them.

Thank god the Buick stopped at the exit to the Mall, otherwise they'd have probably continued until somebody's heart exploded.

The man in the driver's seat got out. I pulled up the GTO behind them, and got out, too.

"How much are you asking for your Riviera?" Fraser asked.

"$6000," he said.

I rolled my eyes.

He scowled at me, but kept talking to Fraser, who hadn't reacted to the price. "It's got a new alternator and breaks, and I have the original manual unopened and in the glove box."

"I'd like to buy it, if you don't mind, sir."

"Frase, that's too much, and where you have money like that?"

"I have a savings, Ray." He turned to the man, "I just have to get it together, sir. Can you let me know where to get in touch with you?"

"Yeah, here's my card. I'll be at work until 7 tonight."

"Thank you kindly."

The Riv drove off, and Fraser returned to where I was sitting on the hood of my car. "Do you mind taking me to the bank, Ray."

I shook my head. "Why'd you need a car, Frase?"

"It's not for me, Ray. It's for Ray when he returns."

"Oh."

"Since it was my fault it became damaged in the first place, it is my responsibility to replace it."

"All right, all right. Let's go. My lunch hour is almost over."

During all this, Fraser still had his packages, unharmed, in his grasp.



After work, I drove Fraser to the guy's card's work address.

"May I inspect the car before I give you the money?"

"Sure, no prob."

Fraser looked everywhere inside and outside the car including under the body, inside the trunk, back seat and under the hood. He got in and started it up. Even I had to admit it purred like a million bucks.

Fraser was frowning faintly, but he said, "I'll take it."

I looked inside. Something wasn't quite right, and soon enough, I spotted the missing part.

"Hey, there's no cig lighter!" I said, taking Fraser's arm and pointing to the empty hole on the dash.

"Oh, let me take care of that," Fraser said. He pulled from his Mountie Utility belt a lighter of his own.

"You just happen to carry spare car lighters in case they're missing?"

"That's silly, Ray. This is Ray's old car lighter. I simply rescued it before the Riviera ended up in Lake Michigan. He spent 7 years looking for a lighter to replace the missing one in his first Riviera."

I just shook my head.

"Things okay?" the guy said.

"Everything is fine," Fraser smiled. The guy gave him the deed and they both signed it, then Fraser gave him the cash, and that was that.

"I should give the Riviera to Ray's family. They can take care of it better than I can."

The idea didn't thrill me since I felt funny being the replacement for their missing Vecchio, so I usually stayed away as much as possible. There was no real point. It was obvious that I was about as Italian as anyone of Scottish ancestors could be, and that was nil.

Fraser looked at me with those big eyes. "Why don't you just keep the car, Frase? You've got more affection for it than they do."

Fraser looked over at the car thoughtfully. I continued, "D'you think he'd want it sitting in a garage somewhere?"

"If I put it in a garage, it won't risk being damaged."

"Yeah, but it'll start pinging and gunking up if it ain't run. It's purring like a beauty now."

Fraser nodded, "You're right, Ray. It should be used. I have to make sure it stays safe."

I shrugged. "We'll just use my car when we go on cases then."

I followed Fraser back to the Consulate. I expected his driving to be bad, but he drove good if a bit slow, and he stopped for yellow lights and traffic signs.



Frase was acting weird again, so I decided to go back after work to get him to maybe go out to eat. It'd make a nice change from him just staying in his office all day.

He wasn't at the Consulate. I check around the park he was always going to, but nobody there had seen the Mountie for a few weeks. I drove around to a few places, not knowing where to go, but soon inspiration hit, and I drove to Fraser's old apartment.

Yep, there was the Riv, in front of a charcoalled-up building with 'condemned' stickers all over the place. I pulled up behind the car, shut off the engine, and stepped out.

Fraser wasn't in the driver's seat, but in the passenger's, and Dief was in the back. I shook my head, and went over to Fraser's side, and tapped on the window.

He looked up at me, startled that I'd figured it out, I suppose. He rolled down the window.

"Yes, Ray?"

"Whatcha doing, Fraser?"

He took a deep breath and held it for several seconds, then let it down slowly. "It doesn't smell the same, Ray."

Woah, that's outta left field! "What don't smell right?"

Poor Fraser, he looked so helpless under siege by his own emotions. "The Riv. It doesn't smell right."

I stuck my head in and sniffed. "How's it supposed to smell?"

He sighed, brushed his eyebrow with his nail, and then started to make 'go on' gestures with his hand, as if doing so would help him speak better. "Li, li, like Ray, I suppose. It was his car."

It is strange. I'd thought I'd know true pain when Stella and I split up and divorced, after I'd found out that she'd not been happy, that I'd not made her happy, even though I'd tried very hard. But that's not the case.

Stella and I, we'd fallen in love, gotten married, but we'd never really got to know each other. I didn't understand her obsession with perfection and appearance, and she never got me and my neediness.

We became acquaintances and lovers, or when I'm in a crude mood, I've gone so far as to suggest we were fuck-buddies. We never became good friends, the kind of friends who stick by each other, take bullets for each other, or put up with each other's mental stuff.

Fraser and Vecchio were real friends. I can see that now. I'm still jealous, but more because I wish I had what they had - still have apparently. I wonder if I even have the ability to make a friend like that.

Vecchio left, with only a cryptic phone call, and yet Fraser still thinks about him, worries about him, constantly.

I can't imagine what seven levels of hell Vecchio has and is going through because of this assignment. Why'd he go? I can be sure, having read the files, talked to his co-workers, and spent time with the Mountie, that he went 'cause he had no other choice.

I can just see him, pacing and agonizing over what he was gonna say to Fraser with so many people watching and waiting for him.

I suppose I don't blame him, although sometimes I get a bit hot under the collar 'bout it, especially when I see Fraser like this, turned off from everyone, living in a world all his own.

For god sakes, he's sitting in that car almost like he's waiting for Vecchio!

That stops my meandering and self-serving thoughts.

Was something wrong with Fraser? I looked back at Fraser, who's smiling at the driver's seat like Ray's there right now.

Diefenbaker whined loudly, nudging Fraser's shoulder.

"Frase?"

He looked up at me, frowning slightly. "Yes, Ray?"

"How long you gonna stay here?"

"Just for a few minutes."

"Okay," I said, at a loss for what to do next. "Well, how's about I go back to my car, and when you get done, we'll drive the Riv back to the Consulate, and go out to eat somewhere."

He stared out into the darkness, seeing I don't know what.

Finally, though, he nodded.

I sighed and went back to the GTO, settling myself to wait for as long as it took.

About an hour later, Fraser went around to the driver's seat, and drove the Riv back to the Consulate, with me following.

We went to the Chinese place, then back to my apartment. I wanted to get him out of that hole he called an office.

We ate in silence, watched a little TV, then I drove him back to the Consulate. I could not help but feel that he resented me for some reason.

The next day, Fraser came by and we were busy with a murder-theft that Fraser solved by tasting the guilty man's shoe. The perp tied us up for a bit, but Huey and Dewey stopped their comedy routine long enough to catch him as he was trying to escape.

"That's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen," I said, shucking off the rope around my ankles.

He smiled, a more brilliant smile than usual, but it quickly turned into a grimace.

"Something the matter, Frase?"

He shook his head quickly, too quickly, and looked away.

"Come on, Fraser, just tell me what's the problem."

"I'm sorry, Ray. It's just that Ray would have said the same thing to me."

"You miss him, dontcha?" Way to go, bowling ball-sharp. Astound him with your brilliant deductions.

He nodded. "Nobody bothers to ask that, Ray." He turned back to me, "I miss him, terribly so."

His voice was so small and miserable, it nearly broke my heart. "Ah Frase. You need to talk? You can talk to me."

He looked at me closely. Maybe he was waiting for the joke or the smart comment. "Thank you, Ray."

We nodded together. The rest of the day moved on.



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