five ways ray kowalski never got divorced

Author: Minervacat
Fandom: due South. AU.
Pairing: Ray/Stella, Ray/OMC, Stella/OFC, Ray/Fraser.
Rating: R.


one.

Ray had thought about all the ways that Stella might say yes - yes with crying, yes with laughing, yes with that shrieking that woman like so much, yes with a blowjob afterwards - but he really hadn't thought up any scenarios where she said no.

But she was saying no, she was saying, "Oh, Ray, I'm ... thank you, thank you, but I'm sorry, I can't."

He said, "What do you mean, Stell, you can't? You can't marry me? You can't wear the ring? We can take it back, I can get you a different one."

"Ray," Stella said again. "Ray, I can't marry you. I can't. I'm sorry. I love you, okay, I love you, but I can't marry you."

"Why not, Stell," he said. He was whining, he knew he was whining, and he couldn't stop himself. Whining won't get you anywhere, he told himself, sounding as much like his mother as he could.

Stella closed her hand over his, snapping the ring box shut as she did. Her fingers were warm against his hand; Stella's hands were never cold like his were. Bad circulation, his mother said. If you'd quit smoking, your hands wouldn't be so cold.

He can't believe that he's thinking about his mother while Stella's telling him that they're not going to get married, which is just ... it does not compute in Ray's mind, because the only thing he's thought about since he figured out that marriage was what adults did, the only thing he's thought about was how to get Stella to marry him.

"I want my own life, Ray," she said. "I want to do things, I can't be tied down."

"I won't tie you down," he said, pathetically, a little broken, and he knew in a split second that he sounded like a moron, and Stella would never marry a moron.

"I'm sorry," she said one more time. "I do love you." And she kissed him on the cheek and walked out of the room and that was the last time that he ever saw her. Later Ray got married to a girl who was a waitress at the Cubby Bear, and then divorced, and Stella's ring is still in his dresser, underneath all his socks. And later one of his buddies from high school said that he'd heard Stella moved to New York and got to be District Attorney in Manhattan.

Ray probably drinks too much, and he spends a lot of time pretending he doesn't care about anything at all.

two.

Ray was pretty sure Stella was cheating on him, and since he couldn't figure out why she was cheating on him after ten years of pretty good marriage, he spent a lot of time at the station house trying to figure out who she was cheating on him with instead of filling out his paperwork. He'd narrowed it down to her boss at the DA's office, the 26 year old associate the DA's office had just hired, and this smug, rich asshole stockbroker who used to date Stella back in high school, whenever she and Ray were in the off part of their off and on relationship, and who still hung around sniffing at Stella like one day she'd wake up and realize that Ray was way not good enough for her.

His lieutenant banging his fist down on Ray's desk and demanding six weeks of back paperwork snapped him out of his homicidal rage fantasy life, and Ray weighed the immediate options - go home to a wife he thought was cheating on him or stay here and type paperwork with two fingers - and went with option one; there was beer at home. There was a wife who was fucking someone else, yeah, but there was beer, and there wasn't any beer at the station.

He snuck past his lieu's office, almost tripped going down the stairs because he couldn't stop thinking about Stella, his Stella, underneath some other guy, fucking some other guy, and he almost didn't go home because beer does not equal finding Stell with some other guy. But it was beer, and there was a Blackhawks game on and Stella's not supposed to be home 'til late - because she's fucking someone else, his brain says to him, because she's fucking someone else, over and over and over - and so maybe he could ignore his brain for a couple of hours and go to bed before Stella comes home, smelling like somebody else.

So he went home, and the apartment was dark when he gets there which meant no Stella, so he left his coat on the floor and his shoes in the middle of the foyer and went straight to the kitchen for a beer before he even turned on the lights or took his gun off. He had his head in the fridge, light puddling around his feet, looking for the Goose Island he knew he'd stashed in the back somewhere, when he heard a noise from the bedroom. Ray smacked the top of his head on the roof of the fridge and backed up, rubbing the bump that was already rising.

"Stell," he said. "Stell, that you?" No answer; Ray was nothing if he wasn't a cop, so he unholstered his gun, flicked off the safety and crept towards the bedroom. The door was open, and a thin warm glow was shining into the hall. "Stell," he said again, quietly. Too quietly - more quietly than he should have said it, if there was someone in there with her. "Come on, Stell, I know that's you."

All he heard was another grunt. He turned the corner, gun up and heart pounding like it never did when he chased anybody down on the street, and the noises were Stella. Stella, in his bed, in their bed, Stella on her back with ... her secretary between her legs. Stella, her head thrown back, her shirt unbuttoned, her chest heaving, with her secretary, her beautiful blonde female secretary between her legs.

He dropped his gun to his side, sliding the safety back on without really thinking. "Stella," he said.

Stella's head shot up, her mouth dropped open. "Ray," she said. Her voice was small and scared, and Ray had never, ever thought that this was what was going on. Never.

"Stell," he said again. His voice sounded flat in his ears, dead - which was kind of how he felt. "Stella, I want a divorce."

three.

When Stella walked in on Ray and Paulie, the only thing that Ray was thankful for was the fact that he blowing Paulie in the kitchen at the time, so his mouth was full and he didn't even see her until the first water glass had shattered against the cabinet by Paulie's head.

After that it was all kind of downhill, so Ray's glad that he had ten seconds between when Paulie saw Stella and when he did, because man. Brutal.

He hadn't meant to end up on his knees in his own kitchen sucking Paulie's dick, but they'd been drinking, and Stella had known that Ray liked guys, too. It wasn't like that was a surprise, and Paulie had grown up from a fat Polish kid into a pretty good-looking stockbroker at the Merc, and ... Ray didn't really have any excuses this time. He hadn't cheated on Stella before, he hadn't meant to cheat on her this time, but the fact of the matter was that he liked guys, and he missed guys, and as much as he loved Stell, well.

So he let her throw him out and he moved into the shitty place at Sheffield and Roscoe and he got on with his life and sometimes he dated guys but mostly he just missed Stella, and Paulie wouldn't even go out and get a beer with him anymore.

Pretty much his life sucked, but it was his fault, and so he couldn't really complain. He complained anyway, but he knew he didn't have a leg to stand on.

four.

Stella said, "But I want kids, Ray."

Ray said, "I just ... Stell, I just don't think it's a good idea."

Stella said, "I thought you wanted kids, Ray."

Ray said, "What if ... no, Stell. I don't want kids. I never wanted kids."

Stella said, "It won't be like your folks, Ray, working all the time. Or mine, either, okay? We'll be home. We'll love them. You'll love them."

Ray said, "No, Stell. No. I don't want kids."

Stella said, "I want kids."

Ray said, "No," and right then, at that moment, he really believed what he was saying.

Then Stella said, "I want a divorce." She wouldn't look at him, and when she finally did, all he saw on her face was resignation mixed with a little bit of sadness.

Ray had nothing to say to that look, so he said nothing. He hated to back down, and he hated it when Stella made him look stupid, and he really thought he didn't want kids. Then. He thought he didn't want kids then, and how different was that from wanting kids ever? Not really. So he signed the papers when they showed up and every year he got older, alone, without Stell, without his folks, without a family, he pretended that he didn't want a son to take to Cubs games whenever he saw fathers teaching their sons to keep score.

five.

Stella hated it when Ray went undercover. She said it was dangerous, boring, stupid, and she hated it when she couldn't call Ray for days at a time just because he was playing at being somebody else. Plus she made him sleep on the couch for two weeks before he went undercover, which was just D-U-M dumb, if you asked him. You're not going to get any for who knows how long, and you make your husband sleep on the couch for two weeks? That was stupid. Besides it paid better than his normal gig, plus a couple of days (or weeks, or months) not seeing each other wasn't hardly any time at all when you considered how long they'd known each other, but the longer they were married, the fewer undercover gigs he took.

But this one sounded easy: pal around with a crazy Canadian for a couple of months while an Italian guy took down the mob from inside, plus he'd be working at the station where Stella did a lot of work, so he'd even get to see her this time around. He couldn't stay at her place - the station was paying for some shitty apartment in Lincoln Park - and he couldn't kiss her or take her out to dinner or anything, but he got to see her, at least.

Except that it turned out that there were a whole bunch of things that nobody told him about this assignment, and it wasn't nearly as neat and easy and laid back as he'd thought it would be.

For one thing: the crazy Canadian? Was really fucking crazy. Ray almost got arrested, almost drowned, and just ... Ray almost died a couple of times, and nobody told him this was a near-death crazy-making almost really honestly arrested type of undercover job.

For another thing: nobody told him that the crazy Canadian was gorgeous. Like, not just gorgeous, but brain-numbingly, knee-shakingly, turning-guys-who've-been-straight-since-the-last-time-they-got-back-together-with-Stella-gay gorgeous.

For a third thing: Stella yelled at him all the time now. Apparently she used to yell at the real Ray Vecchio a lot, even though the real Ray Vecchio seemed to have been good enough at his job. At least as good as Ray is at doing Vecchio's job for him, but even though Ray knew it was mostly just an act, it kind of burned him.

So when he finally got a day off - Welsh said to him, get out of here, lay low for a day or two, okay? But don't blow your cover or anything - it's not really a day off, and he almost went by Stella's place but he remembered, don't blow your cover. So he went by the Consulate instead and he and Fraser went to a Sox game and Fraser even drank a beer and the Sox beat the Twins in extra innings.

He didn't even realize that he'd got a voicemail from Stella on his cell phone until he got home at 2 AM, after fries and a milkshake at the Salt and Pepper with Fraser. Plus he'd see her at the station on Monday anyway, so he didn't bother to call her back.

Which apparently was the wrong answer, because Stella cornered Ray in one of the interrogation rooms on Monday and screamed at him until he thought his ears are bleeding, and it was a good thing that his name really was Ray because he was pretty sure that Stella would have blown his cover shouting about returning phone calls and respect and troublemaking Canadians if it hadn't been. She was too mad to remember he was even undercover, and when she slammed the door behind her, Ray thought the two-way glass was going to shatter.

It didn't, but by then he was so pissed off that he grabbed Fraser out of the bullpen where Fraser was explaining to Huey and Dewey something about carving a caribou. They went out to dinner at Dief's favorite Chinese place, the one where he was allowed to come inside and eat from real dishes, and Ray had just broken open his fortune cookie and was still bitching about Stella yelling at him when he looked up and Fraser was actually looking at him, listening to him.

Ray stopped mid-sentence and thought, When the hell did the crazy Canadian get to be my best friend?

And then he thought, Why doesn't it bother me that he's my best friend? I mean, Stella, when did Stell stop being my best friend?

And then he thought, Oh, fuck, this is why Stella hates undercover assignments.

Fraser cut into his train of thought. "Is everything all right, Ray?"

"Yeah," Ray said. "Yeah, it's okay. I'm fine. I'm just ... Fraser, you ever have one of those moments where all of a sudden, you stop being the person you thought you were?"

"No," Fraser said. "Never. Who do you think you are right now, Ray?"

"I don't know, Fraser," Ray said. "But my cookie says I'm going to see a change in my life sometime soon."

"You should watch out, Ray," Fraser said. He was staring at Ray strangely, his voice dry but his eyes warm. Ray couldn't stop staring back. "You might wake up and find you're someone else entirely."

"You ever hear that thing, Fraser? About adding 'in bed' to the end of fortunes?"

"I haven't."

"A change in my life ... in bed."

Fraser cocked an eyebrow. Ray stared him down.

His cell phone rang into the silence of the restaurant; they were the only two left in the place, not even the waiters in sight. The noise was strident and awful in the silence, and Ray let it ring.

"Ray, are you going to answer that?"

"No," Ray said. "I think I need a change."

*

author's notes: this started out because one day i was sitting in class not paying attention, and i thought to myself, "hey, self, what if stella and ray had never gotten married? what would have happened then?" and voila! story. brooklinegirl and sid did beta duty, which mostly includes kicking my ass re: commas and asking me, "is that what you really mean?" to which the answer is mostly "um, no", so they get big props. this one's for steph, who keeps me from going crazy on a regular basis.

feedback always welcome.

due south stories