Lt. Harding Welsh had been having a series of good days, and as any true cynic knows, a series of good days means something really, really shitty is about to happen. Now, on what would have been the seventh straight day of goodness and sweetness and niceness, Welsh was happily watching the proverbial excrement hit the air conditioning.

He was not happy with the situation (no man in his right mind would be), but since by the fifth day in the Twilight Zone he had been fully prepared for the entire precinct to be gunned down by a crackhead with a bazooka, the scene he was witnessing at the moment was child's play. To the detective involved, however, it may as well have been a crackhead with a bazooka.

"Hey, Stella?"

It started innocently enough. Ray had only wanted to ask her about a case. He and Fraser had been following several suspects for the past several days and having amazing luck, picking them up one by one on trivial charges such as jaywalking. Once they were in the precinct, though, they started confessing to all sorts of major misdemeanors. But there was one guy they just hadn't been able to catch, and that was where Stella came in. She'd worked a case with him before, and it occurred to him that she might know some of his haunts, or at least some weaknesses they could exploit. So when he saw her that day, heading for the door after a meet with a perp, he called her name and jogged up to meet her.

"Hey, Stella?"

She didn't seem to hear him, so he raised his voice a little more and tapped her on the shoulder as he caught up. "Stella-"

She whirled around, eyes dark blue and colder than a chunk of dry ice in a meat locker. Uh-oh.

"For God's sake, Ray, were you this stupid when we were married?"

Her voice was too loud. Way too loud. People had turned and were looking at them. He tried desperately to calm her. "Hey, hold it, there... I was just-"

"You were just what, Ray! Get it through that spiky little head of yours. Every time I come here, you have something to say to me. Will you grow up! We. Are. Divorced. I left you. Are you really so pathetic that you can't accept that?"

His heart was pounding, his throat tight. The world receded and he was lost. He just stood there, numb, watching that beautiful mouth move with hurtful words he could no longer hear over the roaring in his ears. He had to get away.

He stepped backwards.

"Oh, now you walk away from me!"

Francesca was saying something to Stella, but he couldn't hear that either. He turned and started to walk. He didn't know where, but it didn't really matter. He just couldn't be here anymore. He only hoped he could get wherever it was he was going to go before the tears started falling.

Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP, strolled into the 27th precinct with a smile on his face. His wolf, Diefenbaker trotted along beside him, tongue lolling and tail wagging. Both looked forward to seeing Ray, perhaps going out for a bite to eat before continuing work on their current case. Things were going quite smoothly, Benton thought, and they'd wrap this one up in no time. His smile faded as he approached Francesca's desk.

"Francesca?" he asked uncertainly, pulling at his ear.

Frannie growled at him. Actually growled. He took a step backward. "Is... is something the matter, Francesca?"

She was agitated, her hands fluttering uselessly in the air as she floundered for words. "She just... I mean, God, Fraser! Do you have any idea how much I hate her?!"

"Well, no, I'm afraid I don't."

"All he did was say 'hey.' Just a little 'hey, Stella'-"

Fraser felt his heart give one painful lurch as he realized what had happened. He closed his eyes briefly, knowing it had to have been bad for Francesca to react this way.

"-And she blasted him! God, Fraser, he just went all white. He just wilted. And she just kept yelling at him, right in front of God and everybody! He looked like a little puppy. Would you kick a sick little puppy, Fraser?"

"Uh, no, I-"

"No! I didn't think so! I gave her a humongous piece of my mind, but he was already-"

"Excuse me, Francesca." He felt badly about interrupting her, but he had to get to Ray. He looked down at Diefenbaker, who was staring anxiously up at him. "Find Ray," he mouthed, and they were off.

They found him a few blocks from the precinct, sitting on the stoop of an abandoned storefront, arms wrapped around bent legs, his chin resting upon the knees he had drawn up to his chest. He was staring into space, his gaze unfocused. Fraser took a seat beside him.

Diefenbaker whined softly and pushed his head under Ray's arm, licking his cheek and nose. Ray absently wrapped his arm around the animal and patted his head, hugging him close.

They didn't speak for a long while. Finally, Ray lifted his chin slightly and began to speak.

"I saw these birds, Fraser. Pigeons, outside my window one morning." He didn't look over, just spoke, his voice soft and weary. "There was a guy bird and a girl bird. I could tell he was a guy because he was bigger and had some green on his chest. She was a lot smaller and kinda a dull brown. She was just standin' there, lookin' kinda bored, and he flew up next to her and puffed out all his feathers and started struttin' around, like 'Look at me, look at my chest feathers, I rock.' And she just ignored him. She kept turning away from him, with her nose up in the air.... Her beak I mean.... And he just kept followin' her and peckin' at her, and I wanted to open the window and yell at him, 'Cut it out, yer makin' a chump of yerself, she hates you, get over it!' Only I knew he couldn't. He couldn't just give up 'cause he really wanted her and he didn't understand why she was bein' so mean.... Why he wasn't good enough. So he just kept puffin' up his chest feathers and struttin' around like he owned the place."

Fraser waited a moment longer, unsure if Ray had finished his story. "Did he get the girl?" he finally asked hesitantly.

Ray shook his head, never raising his eyes from the ground between his feet. "No. After a while, she just flew away and left him there." He swallowed hard, eyes darkening as he lowered his chin back to his knees. "I thought he was a nice lookin' bird."

"I'm sure he was, Ray."

Fraser sat, wracking his brain for something appropriate to say, but nothing came to mind. Ray didn't seem to mind the silence, however, so he contented himself with simply keeping the younger man company, showing silent support. He smiled slightly when he thought of Francesca's indignant rage on her "brother's" behalf. As much as the two of them fought, there was obviously a real connection between them. He had a feeling they would remain friends even after Ray's undercover assignment was over.

Ray sighed, breaking his rambling thoughts.

"Are you alright, Ray?"

"Yeah." Ray sighed again, then turned to him and gave him a sad smile. "I'm okay." He paused, lips pursing. "I guess you heard what happened, huh? That's why you came out here?"

"Yes," Fraser admitted. "Francesca was rather... vocal in her displeasure."

Ray gave an amused snort. "Yeah? What'd she say?"

"I'm not sure, really. Something about kicking puppies?"

Ray flinched. "Oh great. That's just great."

"Have I said something amiss-?"

"No." Ray shook his head, climbing slowly to his feet. "No, just forget it, Fraser." He turned and began the walk back to the precinct, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Fraser stood and jogged to catch up with him, Diefenbaker on his heels. "I shouldn't have let her get to me," Ray began, almost to himself, "But I just can't help it, you know? I mean... I love her, Fraze, you can understand that, right? I can't just... turn it off...."

"I understand," he agreed. "But...." he stopped, giving his head a tiny shake. "Never mind."

"What?" Ray turned to him, confused. "What were you gonna say?"

"Nothing Ray, I was... just thinking aloud."

"Yeah, well finish it."

"I don't think-"

"Fraser!"

"Yes, Ray, well...." He took a deep breath and plunged forward. "She's a bit of a bitch, isn't she, Ray?"

Ray stopped short, his mouth falling open in shock. "What did you just say?!"

Fraser stopped too, cheeks flushing right red. "Oh dear. Ray, I'm terribly sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No!" Ray seemed to shake himself back to awareness, a genuine smile beginning to form on his face. "No, I don't mind.... She can be a.... I just can't believe you said that word!"

"And I shouldn't have." Fraser glared at the ground, disgusted with himself. "And especially about the woman you love. I... I loved someone once, Ray," he admitted. "Someone... someone who was...."

"Victoria Metcalf," Ray guessed quietly.

Fraser felt his heart give a painful leap. "Yes."

"And you couldn't help it either, could ya, Fraze?"

"No." His voice was barely a whisper, his eyes downcast. "So I know how you feel. You're right, Ray.... You can't turn it off."

Ray sighed. "No. But it seems like Stella can."

They stood in silence again, each one lost in his own thoughts. "Ray?"

A resigned sigh. "Yeah, Fraze?"

"Would you like to have lunch with me?"

"Sure, okay."

They turned their backs on the precinct and Ray threw an arm about Fraser's shoulders as they headed back in the direction from which they'd come. "So... whaddaya wanna eat?"

"Chinese...?"

"Nah. Pizza?"

"Hmm... Thai, perhaps?"

"Too spicy. Sandwiches?"

"The Chicago Deli?"

"Fine."

"Good. ...Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"Pigeons?"

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