*** *** ***

"It all started to fall apart for him, the night he shot them," Ray said, shifting back in the uncomfortable chair. "Before that happened, he wasn't a murderer, just your typical lowlife--little dealin', little fencin', break-ins, one or two carjacks. He never thought he'd really have to do it."

"He was a chickenshit," was Stan's comment. He'd formed this instantaneous opinion the moment he'd first seen the man hide his six foot, weapon-toting frame behind a terrified innocent woman. "Guys, what the heck's the difference in all these bracelet things?"

The three of them sat around the table in the interrogation room, its scarred surface littered with jewelry. Another load of stolen trinkets had been recovered. With Ben's help, they were sorting through the boxes in hopes of finding more of Mary's pieces, both for her sake and as potential evidence in the homicide.

"If you take a moment to study Mary's work, Stan, you'll find it's quite easy to pick out her style," Ben began. "For example, she uses a--"

"Check these out." Ray slid a black satin case towards them. He'd stopped by the shop that afternoon, talked to Mary for a while, emerged with a half-dozen samples representative of the items that had been taken. "Uhh, look for stuff that looks like these."

"I did check them out, Ray. It all looks the same to me. Nice stuff, though."

Fraser already had a small pile of four items at his elbow. "I'm fairly certain these are her work. I have become quite familiar with the finish she prefers, and she favors a particular beveled edge on some of the gold--"

"I'm just gonna sort these out by type an' let you look at 'em, Frase," Stan said. "You've spent so much time with this stuff over the last couple weeks, you're practically qualified to go in with her as a partner."

Ben smiled gently. "She hardly requires any such assistance, Stan. Although..." He frowned slightly. "After I've gone, I wonder..."

The other two looked at each other. Ray chuckled softly. "Benny, don't worry. We'll keep an eye on the place every once in a while. Promise. Okay? Sheesh."

"Well, thank you, Ray. I do feel she'd appreciate the--"

"She still doesn't like me." Stan grinned.

"Stan, that's...err...an exaggeration."

Stan's grin became a chuckle. "She seems to dig you okay, though, Ray."

Ben's mouth twitched up. "I did notice that myself."

"You been stoppin' by there kinda regular, lately." The blue-grey eyes were twinkling.

"Knock it off, you two. I wanted to pick these sample things up."

"Okay, Ray." Stan concentrated on untangling two delicate neckchains. His partner had been strangely on edge all day; in fact, it had been going on for longer than that. It had now been a week since the arrests, and there was the typical letdown of tension that accompanied the end of a grueling case. In addition, Fraser had finalized his departure plans with a definite date. It loomed ahead of them, a scant week away. Stan had put down Ray's distracted moods recently to the vague depression that enveloped all three of them at the prospect.

"He ended up blowin' his own cover." Ray broke the short silence, his tone musing. "We didn't know for sure he was in there, but he hadda shoot off his damn gun, tryna put a scare into that poor girl. Didn't like her arguin' with her boyfriend there about hidin' him out at her place."

"She did seem an innocent party to all this." Ben tilted his head. "As for young Mr. Mendoza--"

"Nothin' innocent about *him.*" Ray's brows drew together.

Ben cleared his throat. "Well, he's certainly made some unfortunate...choices."

"That's one way of puttin' it." Ray's scowl deepened.

Ben shot a glance at Stan's face, then back down at the tabletop. "The weapons charge was his first. Prior to that he'd only had one or two possession--"

"I am familiar with the kid's record, Benny."

"You're turning into a hardass, Ray." Stan flicked a look at him, then determinedly back down at his fingers as they picked at the twisted chains.

"Stan, he coulda--"

"He didn't."

"He was quite...cooperative, during our questioning and after, Ray, if you recall." Ben's voice was calm as he tilted an engraved pin to the light. "You did tell him you would speak to the judge at his preliminary hearing in the--"

"Yeah, well, that's somethin' you say to guys to make 'em give it up, Benny. You should know that by now. I'm not under any obligation to actually do it, and I got no reason to, now."

Stan risked a look into his partner's face, detected the faint twinkle in Ray's hazel eyes. He felt his lips begin to quirk upwards in amusement.

"Ray, I'm certainly not suggesting that the perpetrator should be exempted from facing appropriate consequences of the actions of which he is guilty."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd never suggest that, Benny."

"It's just that I do feel, in light of, ahh, his obvious youth, and certain mitigating--never mind, Ray. It's appropriately up to your own discretion, of course."

"So what you're sayin' is, it wouldn't be no skin off my nose to put a word in the judge's ear with regard to how helpful the kid was in givin' up Jimenez, is that it?"

"Well, Ray--"

"I suppose I could do that."

Stan was biting the inside of his lower lip. He kept his eyes lowered.

"Well, I wouldn't attempt to influence--"

"All right, Benny."

"Are you certain, Ray?"

"Doesn't mean the judge has to listen to me. The A.D.A. either."

"I quite understand, Ray. Thank you."

"Don't mention it, Benny."

The three of them bent over their work again. Stan did not dare to meet his partner's eyes, an attack of mirth threatening. He cleared his throat. "Gee, it's quiet out there."

"Place is almost deserted. Welsh and the guys are downtown at some building dedication that got a bomb-threat; second shift ain't here yet. Enjoy the friggin' quiet while we got it."

Ben laid the jewelry he had tagged in a neat row and pushed gently back from the table. "I'm afraid I must also take my leave, if you will excuse me. I have some...details, to attend to. Letters to write. I'll--I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, Benny."

"Sure, Fraser. We'll--we'll go out to eat or somethin', okay?"

"As you wish." He stood, smiled down at them a moment. "Goodnight." The door closed behind him with a soft click.

The comparative silence wrapped them. Stan shifted back in his chair, not really seeing the littered interrogation table or the dingy walls of the room. His mind slid back, across the weeks, the months, the year since he had arrived in this place: his home yet not his home, the surroundings familiar yet alien. Suddenly living another life; one he had not chosen, yet had found himself strangely envying. The whole indescribable experience of knowing Fraser, of loving him from afar--bewildering, joyous, painful and exhilarating by turns. The bitter irony of his growing attachment to his borrowed life, the knowledge that it would one day be yanked out from under him by its rightful owner, the uncertainty as to who Ray Kowalski really was, and where he at last belonged.

And Ray.

Never had Stan felt the false premise of his very existence more acutely than during the first weeks after Ray had returned to the precinct, to a welcome somewhere between that of a conquering hero and a long-lost brother. As if the intervening twelve months of his absence had never existed, he was instantaneously connected, respected, deferred to, and known. His breezy manner, his sophistication, combined with what turned out to be a well-earned reputation for excellence, had struck deep chords of both admiration and resentment in Stan. With Fraser gone, Stan had felt strangely invisible, nearly friendless, expecting at any time to be notified that he was being transferred, away from the tenuous bonds he had begun to forge in the department.

With a kind of wonder, he reflected on the magnitude of the change in his life in the barely six months that had passed since then. His confidence had doubled; his enjoyment of the work he loved, while always present, had reached its fullest peaks of satisfaction at Ray's side, with the partner who had from the very first spoken his language; whom he had never failed to understand and trust; whose gruffness masked a gentle sweetness; whose outward cynicism belied his devotion to his family and their future, and to Stan himself.

He no longer doubted where he belonged.

Or with whom.

He nudged Ray's toe under the table. "Hey."

"What?" The green eyes flicked up to his face, dropped again.

"You weren't really plannin' to leave that Mendoza kid out to dry."

Ray's mouth quirked up at one corner. "Says who?"

"Vecchio. I happen to *know* you already talked to the D.A.'s office about him, an' at his arraignment, didn't you--"

"Maybe." Ray flashed him a smile.

Stan rolled his eyes, lifted his hands. "Why--*why* do you always gotta yank his chain like that?"

Ray's grin widened and he shook his head. "I dunno, Stan. It's as natural as breathing. Can't seem to help it."

"You don't try shit like that with *me.*"

"I know I can't get away with it with you."

"Well, I'm glad we got *that* clear." He was grinning himself.

Stan flexed his cramping shoulders, sat forward and slid an idle fingertip through the tangle of shimmering metal spread out on the tabletop.

He lifted his left hand, squinted. "Ray. Tell me somethin. This ring..." he held up his fingers, the third one encircled by the thick gold and jeweldust band he always wore. "You think it's too heavy for my hand?"

Ray's lip twitched in amusement. "You really wanna know, Stan? Yeah. It is."

"I *knew* you were gonna say that. You just don't like it because I broke your mouth with it that time." Stan grinned at him.

"Here," Ray said, lifting a slimmer, carved-gold band from the litter of jewelry. "Try this instead."

"That's evidence, Ray. Don't be messing around with it." But he slipped the chunky band off his finger and allowed his partner to slide the ring onto it.

"Not this one. I bought it."

Stan blinked. "No shit? Vecchio, you're gonna have more gold than *me*, you keep this up. It's really yours?"

Ray twisted the band slightly around Stan's finger, revealing the engraved lettering carved into the design: RV.

Stan let out a low whistle. "It's yours, all right. Gee, it's a beauty, Ray. Maybe it's about time I picked up something new myself."

"You can wear it, if you want, Stan." Ray's voice was carefully casual.

"Uhh, it's got *your* initials on it, Vecchio."

Ray closed his eyes momentarily, opened them again. Fingers trembling only slightly, he twisted the ring another half turn. An additional set of lettering was revealed, glimmering in the warm light of the overhead: SRK.

Stan stared at the elegantly entwined letters until they blurred abruptly before his eyes. He closed his hand into a fist, opened it again to pull the ring off with shaking fingers and drop it into his outspread palm, where it lay, a warm gold circle. He lifted astounded eyes to his partner's face.

Ray was staring down at the tangled strands of metal on the table. "That is, if you want to, Kowalski. Up to you. It's not like..." He stopped, shrugged one shoulder.

Stan got up slowly, his body hunched over the table, his eyes never leaving his partner's face. Silently, he slipped around to Ray's side, dropped to his knees before his chair. "Yes."

"Stan, hey. It's a gift. Somethin' I thought you'd go for. Give you a little class, you know?" He gave a shaky laugh, but his eyes refused to meet his partner's. He put a hand over his face suddenly.

Stan shifted closer to rise up on his knees and put an arm around his lover's shoulders. His breath nearly stopped in his throat as he realized Ray was shaking. "*Yes.*"

Ray reached out to take Stan's wrist in gentle fingers. The two of them looked down at the ring as it lay in his hand, the strong light from above picking out the tiny, flowing script on its inner surface: /la mia vita, il mio cuore, per sempre./

"It means--"

"I know what it means. Jesus God, Vecchio, way to knock a guy flat on his ass out of the blue. *YES.*"

Ray took the ring, his jaw tight, his eyes clouded. Still not looking into his partner's face, he slid the gleaming band onto Stan's finger and then pulled the hand to his mouth. Kissed the palm, the knuckles, the back. Stan felt the wetness on his lover's face and drew a startled breath.

"Ray. Oh, God. What--"

"Better t-take a picture, S-stan. You w-won't see this again. Ohh, shit.."

Stan pulled him firmly into his arms. He held him for long bewildered moments, stroking his back. Ray buried his face against his lover's neck, his breathing unsteady. His voice, when he spoke, was a jagged whisper.

"This is...Stan. Really. You are...everything. I don't know what I'd do, if--"

"Shhh. I'm not going anywhere. I love you, you idiot." Stan's own voice was breaking. He wrapped himself as best he could around the man in his arms, nuzzled at the side of Ray's face. Felt his partner's fingers twist themselves in the fabric of his shirt, holding him tightly.

"Hey." Stan pulled back slightly. He slipped fingers under his partner's chin, lifted the raw, shimmering eyes to his. "Do you need to hear me say it? Forever, Ray. Trust me on this, okay? I've known...I've known it for a long time now."

"*Love.* I--Stan. I'm sorry. Shit. This isn't me...well, hell. Yes it is." He leaned forward to press a warm, trembling kiss on his partner's mouth. "Need you, baby. Always." Ray drew back, relaxing his grip on his partner's clothing, and swiped roughly at his face. "I didn't know I was gonna lose it, sweetheart. S-sorry. I'm okay." They sat quietly for a minute, Stan's arm loosely around his shoulders, and then Ray shot a glance around the room, seeming suddenly to remember where they were.

"Uhh, Kowalski." His voice was nearly steady. "Tell me--tell me we're not cuddling in the middle of the interrogation room with a goddamn WINDOW in it."

"We're not cuddling, Ray."

"No?"

Stan leaned forward, his smile warm, one hand cupping his partner's face. He brushed his lips across Ray's. "We're necking."

*** *** ***

"Fran. Francesca. *Frannie!*"

The furious, hissed whisper floated down the deserted hallway. Fran hurried along it, looking around for the source of the sound. She spotted Elaine in her patrol uniform, leaning out of the observation room, waving frantically at her.

Fran caught up to her. "What? What the heck is it?"

"Sssshhhhh!" Fran's wrist was seized and she was pulled alongside her friend, into darkness. Elaine drew her before the thick one-way glass and they stared into the brightly lit chamber beyond.

Perhaps fifteen seconds passed in absolute silence.

Elaine's voice was hushed, dreamy. "Who the hell knew Kowalski could kiss like that, huh?"

Fran almost squeaked. "Who the hell knew my brother could??"

Elaine leaned forward slightly, squinted a little. "Hey, Frannie. Is it me, or is he looking a little....misty eyed?"

Fran's voice was at least as fond as it was teasing. "I'll say he is. Haven't seen that in *years.*"

Elaine shook her head as she stepped back from the glass. "Let's get going, Fran, we're gonna miss the movie." They exited the room quietly, walked side by side down the hall, talking in low voices.

"Fran. Did you--did you know?"

Fran smiled. "Oh, yeah. For a long time."

"Really? How long?"

"Months. Remember that fight they got into, on stakeout that time?"

Elaine's eyes widened. "Since *then*?? What the heck was that, then, lovers' spat?"

"No, they weren't then. But I think that was the beginning of it."

"How'd...how'd you figure it?"

"Oh, easy. Ray's been...heh." She smiled fondly. "High as a kite, really, ever since. Not to mention he practically lives at Stan's place now."

"He does?? I didn't know *that.*"

"Elaine, don't spread this around the department, okay?"

"I won't, Fran. Of course not. If I did that...oh my God, they might get split up. As partners."

Fran was nodding vigorously. "I do *not* want to deal with *either* of them if that happens. They're already--"

"Pains in the ass. Heck yeah, my lips are sealed. Although, if they keep doin stuff like *that* here, it won't be long before..."

"Elaine. I kinda think maybe...maybe some people already know. But they're being quiet. On purpose."

"People like who?"

"Well, whatever you wanna say about the Lieutenant, he's not stupid, is he?"

Elaine gaped. "You mean, he suspects, and he's not...he hasn't done anything?"

"If it were brought up to his face he might be forced to. Departmental policy. I think he doesn't wanna lose the best partner team the division's had in twenty years. Let's not give him a reason, ya know?"

They smiled at each other and walked out the doors.

*** *** ***

"Benny, are you *sure* you don't want a ride to the airport? I mean, this is ridiculous, you just walkin' off into the sunset, here."

"It's better this way, Ray. I'd rather remember the two of you as you are, here, where we were all...where we were all together." There was just the slightest catch in his voice, and they moved closer to him, slipping their arms into a warm three-way embrace. Ben smiled ruefully. "Believe me, this isn't easy. But it is the right thing to do."

"Frase." Stan's voice was gentle. "You know, don't you, that you're welcome here. With us. Always."

"I don't doubt that for a moment, Stan. And it means a great deal to me. But...welcome is not the same as belonging."

"I understand, Benny," Ray said steadily. "We just--"

"I don't like the idea of you bein'--bein' alone, Fraser." Stan bit his lip, eyes closing. Damn. He hadn't meant to make this difficult, but he could not stop the words tumbling out. "No matter--no matter how many times you tell me you're happy, I--I just worry." He cast an apologetic glance into Ray's eyes, but his lover just smiled back at him.

"Stan."

"Yeah, Frase."

"Look at me, Stan. Please."

He lifted troubled grey eyes to the Mountie's face. Ben's smile was gentle, full of love. "I won't be alone, Stan. I'll have the two of you in my heart, always. And--I'm not going to some ice floe, as you're so fond of putting it, you know. These people...they are very important to me. I understand them. I am one of them, after all. My heart belongs there."

"You don't deserve to be--to be lonely, Frase." He tightened his arm around the Mountie's waist.

"I may be, at first." Ben's voice was steady, comforting. "But I--I have confidence that it will not always be so." His eyes grew distant. "In fact, there are people I miss, even as I enjoy my time here; people I will be happy to see again."

Ray raised an eyebrow. "Benny, are you telling us you met someone--special, up there?"

Ben smiled at him. "I met lots of special people, Ray. I have friends."

"Like, guy friends? Girl friends? I mean--"

"Ray." Ben looked amused. "Some of each."

Ray shook his head. "I'm sorry, Fraser. I'm bein' nosey."

"It's quite all right, Ray. I'm touched that you're both so--concerned for me. I want--" He sighed softly. "Can you understand that I want what the two of you have?"

"Yeah, Benny. Of course I can."

"And can you understand that before I came back, I didn't know--I didn't know if I could ever have that. It--it wasn't just a matter of finding someone. I'd been in love with the both of you for so long, but nothing ever came of it. And I thought...I thought that the problem was with me. Something wrong, within myself. That I couldn't--"

"Fraser, for god's sake, that's so--"

"Stan." Ben's eyes were tender. "What I'm trying to tell you is that I don't feel that way any longer. I don't know when it might fall within my grasp, but I no longer doubt that it will. Someday, when the moment is right, it will happen for me. My heart...my heart is open. I am not..." He drew a slow breath. "I am not afraid any more."

Stan stepped back, knuckling at his eyes. "Scuse me. Somethin's burning, I think." He stepped away from them into the kitchen, pulled open the oven door and stood scowling into it.

Ben shot Ray a look, got a gentle, understanding smile in return. He followed Stan into the small room, waited while he straightened up, closed the oven door. "Stan."

"Yeah, I hope--well--that sounds good, Fraser, I'll just--shit--I'll miss you."

And Ben's arms were around him, so tightly he could barely breathe. They clung, Ben's voice soft in his ear. "I love you. You have made me so happy, Ray. Please understand that. And--I'll be back. I told you that once before, and I kept my promise. I'll keep this one, too."

Stan shifted back to give him a watery smile. "Yeah, okay, Frase."

Ben's tone was suddenly serious. "You know, don't you, how lucky you are?"

"You don't gotta tell me that. Believe me. I'm just bein' selfish, here, is all. I know what I got." His smile deepened, became genuine. "Hey, Vecchio, you can quit hoverin' out there, I'm okay."

Ray strolled in, looked from one to the other of them. "Stay for dinner at least, Benny? It's almost ready."

Ben shook his head. "I can't, really. I must be on my way." He dropped his eyes, a faintly embarrassed smile touching his lips. "I wanted to thank you both for--for this summer. For what we've shared. I'll never forget it."

"Well, gee, Frase, it's not like it's over." Stan's eyes were twinkling at him. "In fact by the time we see you again, we might actually own a bed big enough for all of us."

Ben looked from one to the other of them. "Ahh. I don't expect that that--aspect--of our relationship will continue beyond this summer. I understand that you included me as a way of--of bringing us closer together, and--"

"Stanley, what kinda crap is he talking?"

"I don't know, Ray."

Ben's cheeks were pink. He gave them an exasperated look and reached out for Stan's hand, his fingers touching the ring. "I had assumed that this implied a certain--exclusivity."

"It does." Ray grinned at him. "But not where you're concerned."

Ben shook his head. "This is totally--unnecessary."

"Hey, Frase, if you don't want us any more, or if this--this special person up there don't like the idea, well, we'll understand. But until then--" Stan winked at him.

Ben cleared his throat. "Well, I--"

A bark. They looked down, to where Diefenbaker stood in the hallway, tail impatiently wagging.

Fraser looked up, into Stan's eyes. Wrapped him suddenly in a close embrace, kissing him thoroughly. Stan mmmphed with surprise, grinning into the Mountie's face when Ben at last released him.

Ray stepped forward, his hand lifting to cup Ben's face. Their own kiss was gentle, unhurried, tender. Ben sighed, resting his forehead against his friend's. "I do need to go."

Ray followed Ben into the hallway as Stan turned back to the stove. "Walk you out, Benny."

"As you wish, Ray." He met Ray's eyes briefly. The two of them left the apartment, walked in silence down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. The simple act of walking with Ben beside him brought back for Ray, as it always had, the old, familiar feeling of their partnership. He knew with gentle finality that he was experiencing it for the last time. The knowledge was only faintly bittersweet, and not unwelcome.

They stood facing each other in the late afternoon sun, Ben squinting just slightly. A breeze ruffled his dark hair. Ray was suddenly certain that the image of Fraser's face at this moment would remain in his heart forever.

"I'll--I'll say it one more time." Ray was surprised at the low intensity of his own voice. "You have a home here, or wherever we end up. Whenever you need it. Or want it."

Ben smiled into his eyes. "You've made that clear, Ray. Both of you have. And I do appreciate it, more than I can say. But as I told you--"

Ray held up a hand. "I hear you, Benny. I understand. I just wanted to--"

"Ray."

"Yeah, Benny."

Ben dropped his eyes for a moment, then cast an almost shy glance back into Ray's face. "Ask--ask me again, someday."

"Benny."

"Yes, Ray?"

"Count on it."

The slow smile on Ben's face could have melted a polar icecap. Ray shook his head, chuckling softly.

A sudden clatter from above them. A familiar, cheerful voice. "Hey, kiss him goodbye already and come up! It's gettin' cold." The window banged down again.

They looked at each other, moved forward at the same moment. Ray found himself engulfed in Ben's arms, pulled against him in a powerful embrace. He hugged him back fiercely, blinking at a sudden stinging in his eyes. They did not kiss, just held on for moments longer than was appropriate for a public sidewalk, not caring. They pulled away at the same instant and looked into each other's eyes.

"Goodbye, Benny," Ray said softly, his voice almost a whisper. "We shoulda--we shoulda said goodbye like this a year and a half ago. We didn't get a chance to. I want you to know--" he sighed, shook his head--"I always regretted that. That we couldn't--"

"We've made up for it, Ray," Ben said gently, and his face seemed almost aglow with some serene inner light. "More than made up. Wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, Benny. We did at that."

Diefenbaker shook himself, tags jingling. They looked down at him at the same moment, and then Ray stepped back, lifted his hand. "Watch yourself, you hear, Benny? Don't get conned. Don't talk to panhandlers. Look out behind you. Don't freeze to death on some friggin' ice floe. Don't--don't forget about us."

"Goodbye, Ray," Ben said. He lifted his own hand in a silent salute of farewell, then simply turned and headed down the sidewalk, wolf trotting alongside. They turned at the corner and were gone.

Ray stood for a moment looking after them, arms wrapping himself. The sun's heat was faded now in the last days of September; a breeze skittered fallen leaves in whirling patterns on the sidewalk. He glanced around him, shivering in the sudden chill.

Ray took the stairs two at a time, into the warmth of home.

*** *** ***

"Well then, Diefenbaker. I expect you are as anxious to return to cooler climes as I."

The wolf padded silently along beside him.

"The summers here. Quite a bit too humid for my comfort, as I'm sure you understand."

Dief didn't look up.

Fraser shifted the strap over his left shoulder to a more comfortable position and regarded his four-footed friend thoughtfully. Suddenly, the wolf's ears shot up and he started forward, whining. Ben looked ahead in the direction of the wolf's gaze and spotted a yellow taxicab creeping along in the heavy traffic.

"No, Diefenbaker. See that elderly lady on the sidewalk? She's waving for it."

A bark.

Fraser sighed. "Yes, I'm sure we could beat her to it, if we hurried. But we are not going to."

This time the wolf did look up at him. Fraser rolled his eyes at the expression. "No, we are *not* going to walk the entire way to the airport. I promise you. Although, with all the doughnuts you've eaten lately, perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad idea."

They walked a block in silence.

"We'll come back for a visit, Dief. When the weather is cooler." Fraser hitched the backpack up again, frowning slightly. "They'll have moved to their new place by then, most likely."

No response.

"I expect it will be more spacious. Might have a spare bedroom in it, for us to stay in."

The wolf was watching him. Fraser stared back into the brown eyes for a moment. "Now there's no reason to give me that look." He looked forward again, picking up the pace of his strides. "I know what they said, but I shall insist on taking the spare room."

The wolf emitted a chuffing noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort.

"Believe me or don't believe me, as you wish. I shall...I shall insist, I tell you."

Diefenbaker said nothing, just matched his pawsteps to the long, determined strides of his companion. Fraser watched his silverfurred ears and quivering nose for a moment, then stared down at the pavement, sinking into his own thoughts. He was unaware of the gentle, reflective smile touching his lips.

A yip startled him and he looked up, again following the wolf's gaze. Another cab, a block ahead of them in traffic, and this time he could see no one else who seemed intent on flagging it.

"What do you say, Dief? Race you."

And together, they broke into a run.

This really is the end of their story. But as I'm rather smitten with this universe, I wouldn't be *too* surprised if we get another peek at what the boys are up to in it...someday. ;)

Thanks for reading. :) Send feedback if you want.