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Fraser stole a glance at the man to his left. Whom he had dragged, with a good deal of protest, to his first classical concert. (Officially. Even though Ray was a trained dancer and thus not entirely a stranger to this part of the cultural world, it wasn't his ordinary fare.) Not wanting to alienate Ray for life, Fraser had taken pains to choose a program which he believed would be more “accessible” to the average modern audience.
That it also happened to feature a particularly romantic piece near and dear to his heart was pure…happenstance.
He had intentionally disguised the invitation as his response to Ray’s bet – the loser would have to attend an event of the other’s choosing. For Ray, it would have been a Chicago Bulls game. Fraser would gladly have gone no matter the venue or the type of event, as long as he was in the same good company. But as Fraser had been the one to complete the paperwork from their latest arrest in the fastest time (and with the fewest typos), this was why they now found themselves at Orchestra Hall on the balcony level.
Ray was leaning forward in his seat, squinting to get a better look at the musicians and their instruments below. Fraser retrieved his glasses from his breast pocket and offered them to Ray, and was rewarded with a grateful look that sent a little shiver down his spine. Ray moved Fraser’s hat to his other knee and sat back.
Fraser allowed his mind to wander as the melodic strains filled the dim concert hall. Some might call the piece a bit schmaltzy. Fraser preferred to think of it as an expression of passion. Something that he rarely permitted himself to display outwardly, but remained buried deep beneath the surface.
His thoughts meandered into one of his frequent fantasies of the two of them, at an undefined moment in time, snuggling together in a cozy cabin surrounded by nothing but plains of endless snow and trees, with Diefenbaker curled up at the fireplace.
Fraser sighed to himself.
At which point he became aware that his hand had somehow found its way into Ray’s. Oh. Oh dear. Fraser maintained his gaze forward as he slowly attempted to extricate himself without drawing Ray’s attention. Perhaps if he were to just… Keeping his eyes straight ahead, intently fixed first on the concertmaster, then on the conductor’s baton, Fraser felt the piercing gaze of a pair of blue eyes. As well as the ensuing heat of a flush that was rapidly diffusing across his cheeks to his brow. Hmmm…
*****
An unspecified period of time of later…
Blankets lay softly atop the pair as a roaring fire blazed in the next room, and the silent snowfall continued outside.
As Ray drifted into dreamland, he thought back sleepily on the events that had forever changed their relationship. When Fraser had asked him to stay in Canada with him, after their expedition for the hand of Franklin had come to its end, eyes hopeful and a slight tremble in his voice belying his nervousness, Ray’s heart was filled to bursting.
But when Fraser had asked Ray to marry him (complete with a ring in a box and down on bended knee, the whole shebang, ‘cause Fraser was, of course, a traditionalist), Ray thought his heart would truly explode into little pieces. He didn’t think he had ever seen a sight so lovely, with snowflakes softly settling onto Fraser’s shoulders and lightly dusting his hair, and eyes shining with love and warmth and all the promises that the future held in store for them.
And now, celebrating their first Christmas together as a married couple, Ray gave an involuntary sigh of contentment and snuggled in to Fraser’s warm embrace. From behind him, Fraser’s arm around his middle tightened as he drew Ray closer.
Dief’s tongue lolled as he lay sprawled across the hearthrug, taking full advantage of the warmth radiating before him. He couldn’t wait to tear into his stocking the next morning to find out what Santa had brought him. Perhaps there would even be donuts.