Title: The Seven Deadly Sins 3

Author: Birgitt Schuknecht

Fandom: due South

Rating: NC17 (slash)

Pairing: Vecchio/Zuko

Category: drama/au

Disclaimer: The characters used in the following story are not mine. I do not make any money out of this. It's written for fun and for the fans of the show.

Spoiler: none (This takes place before the pilot.)

By Birgitt Schuknecht.

Night Three (27th of October)

Avaritia (Greed)

"Mama, I'm back." Ray closed the door behind him with a loud thud and leaned against it, exhausted. It had been another long day at the precinct, full of routine police work. Being out on the streets couldn't be more tiring. Right now the O'Reilly cases had come to a standstill. Just more and more reports without any revealing truths. Apart from two things - Catriona O'Reilly had been raped and had been killed some time between 3 and 6 p.m. on the 25th. Both facts fitted Ray's theory perfectly - along with Frankie's reaction to his accusations.

His mother poked her head out of the kitchen, giving him a warm smile. Ray returned it, "It's good to be home. I could need some of your magic soup, Mama."

"Just get changed, Raimondo. It will be ready in no time." She eyed him suspiciously. Ray knew he must look like hell. He'd only slept a handful of hours in the last two days and he feared that won't change in the near future. If it wasn't the case that left him restlessly, it surely would be some new nightmares featuring Ray Vecchio and his very special bunch of demons and monsters. Ray made his way over to the staircase.

"Raimondo?"

"Yes, Mama?" He turned once more to his mother.

"It's good to have you home, caro." She was worried about him. And she had every right to be. The stress he had been under had made him nervous and irritable, and the short time he'd spent home he'd mostly quarrelled with his younger sister Frannie or had whined about the impossibility to find some peace under his own roof.

"I better change now." With that he left her standing and got up the stairs. One more look into his mother's face would make him ran over to her, hug her and burst into tears. And he couldn't risk to lose that energy. Not before this case was closed.

***

The window in his room was still open and it was very cold. In the already dim light he went to the window and started to close it. He could here children's voices down below and bent slightly out of the window. "Michael, are you boys still outside? Dinner will be ready in no time."

"Uncle Ray! You home already?" Ray couldn't make out the expression on the young boy's face, it was getting dark now rapidly, but could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. He already regretted to have made his presence known to the boy. As Michael ran in the house - leaving behind him the neighbours' kids - Ray closed the window and switched on the lights. He changed into sweater and jeans. Better prepared for an adventurous eight year-old who was about to attack him.

He didn't have to wait long. The door was pushed open and Michael nearly threw himself into Ray's arms. The detective gave the boy a hug, then he grabbed him at his shoulders, knelt down and looked into the huge brown eyes of his nephew. "What about a proper greeting, Michael?" He tousled the thick brown hair affectionately.

"Hi, Uncle Ray! Do you gonna play with me?" Michael gave him a toothy smile.

"It will be pitch dark after dinner."

"We can turn on the lights." The boy's smile turned into a mischievous grin.

Ray looked incredulously at his nephew. "Lights? Does that mean your father finally got to fix them?" Michael nodded eagerly. Ray chuckled. No more excuses. "Let's have dinner first, okay?" That was all the confirmation the boy needed. In a flash he was out of the room again, storming down the hallway and the stairs. Ray stayed kneeling for some more moments. He was grateful for the distraction. Having a little workout after dinner would do him good.

***

Dinner was another welcome distraction. Ray pushed back all thoughts and enjoyed his mother's cooking. He sat there, taking in all the noise that was an inevitable part of a real Vecchio dinner. Normally he would have joined the teasings and arguments but tonight he was just glad to be home.

"Raimondo?"

Ray looked at his mother. "Yes, Mama?"

"You're not eating. Is anything wrong with the veal?" Ray could tell by the expression on her face that she knew that there was nothing wrong with it.

"Of course not. I was just... Maybe I'm a little tired. I'll go to bed early I promise. Right after teaching the kid a lesson in basketball. Eh, Michael?" He gave his nephew who had been following the short discussion between his grandmother and his uncle a light slab on the back. Then he returned his attention to the food once more. All the time he saw out of the corner of his eye the concerned glances his mother gave him. She still didn't know about Mark or the case. Ray wasn't sure if he should tell her. No, that could wait. Until the moment the case is concluded.

***

They had only taken some shots as a warm up when Ray started at a sound in his back. He swivelled around and saw a dark, looming figure. "What a touching scene, Detective. I hate to interrupt you, but Mr. Zuko wants to see you."

Ray swallowed hard. He turned to Michael. "Get in the house, kid. I'm sorry but this is important."

"But you promised." Michael stamped his right foot onto the concrete, clutching the basketball in his arms. He frowned at him and Ray sighed.

"Yeah, I did. But this is my work, got it? Now get inside to your mother and grandmother." He placed his hands on his hips and waited for the boy to disappear into the house, who slammed the door shut behind him. Then Ray turned to his visitor. "What does he want from me?"

"That's of no concern. You just accompany me." The man came a little nearer. Ray recognised his face but he didn't know his name.

"And if I do not?" Ray knew the answer but he just wanted to buy some time. To what use that would be he couldn't tell.

"You know very well that there are means to persuade you to change your mind. Detective, why don't we stop playing games and you just go with me? You'd make my boss happy." The man smiled at him and Ray could tell that the guy was ready to act on his words.

"I'll tell my family not to worry. You don't want to have my mother inform the police about my disappearance, do you?"

***

Ray stood in Frankie's study again, waiting for his host to appear. Frankie's man had led him here and then left without a word. After about five minutes Ray went over to the comfortable-looking armchair that stood to the left of him. He slumped down onto it. He turned his head and eyed the books on the shelf next to him. Most of them looked as if they never had been touched, let alone read. He stretched out his left hand and pulled out a copy of what turned out to be "Treasure Island". He leafed through it, taking in the comforting scent of it. He searched for the scene where the blind guy gets killed. The book had been one of his favourites when he was a young boy and that scene had given him shudders whenever he'd read it.

Before he could start reading, the door opened and Frankie came in, with Charlie in tow. Ray was surprised to see that he was dabbing the right corner of his mouth with a blood-stained handkerchief. "Frankie! What happened? A discussion with your wife about who's top or bottom? I hope you won."

Frankie shot him an icy stare. "Shut up, Vecchio, or I'll make you. I have a present for you." He tossed an envelope towards Ray who caught it with his left hand, his right still holding "Treasure Island". Ray stared at the letter intently. It was crumpled and there were brown stains on it. He turned it and it was bearing his name, followed by the address of the 27th.

Ray straightened in the chair, closed the book and placed it down on the floor before him. Then he turned the envelope in his hand again and again. It was already open. He stared at Frankie who seemed to be very busy with nursing the bruise that started to develop in his face.

Finally Frankie seemed to feel Ray's gaze on him and looked up. "Don't you want to read it, Ray? I can promise you it will be very... interesting." He started to smile but then he took in a sharp breath, his hand touching the wound carefully.

"You read it." It was not a question.

"Of course I did. I am concerned about your well-being, Ray. I always have been. The... circumstances under which I got hold of this letter were rather unusual. I feared that its content could endanger your career or even worse, your life."

Ray pulled out the letter. He checked for the signature. "Mark." His heart skipped a beat and he closed his eyes for a second. The letter dated the 25th of October. The day his lover died. Ray wondered for a second if he should just tear it to pieces. The fact that Frankie gave it to him for reading was definitely a bad sign. Nothing good could come out of this.

"Ray!

When you read this, I have left Chicago. I should have done so three weeks ago. The day after I first met you. It would have been easier then. But I didn't know then. Simply couldn't know. And there was the money. More than I ever dreamt of. I found out that Frank Zuko is a generous man when it comes to pay quality work. He paid well. He paid me a fortune - for seeking you out, for becoming your friend, for being your lover. I have no excuse for my actions. At the beginning it was just a job. No. Not just a job. It was the opportunity to get me all the money I ever longed for. I told myself that I did it to become independent. To enable me to live a life regardless of other people's opinion. Now I know I lied to myself. To calm my scruples. It was simply greed. Ray, it was you who made me realise it. You showed me a different kind of greed. Your passion for life and love simply blow me over. I fell in love with you. I hope you can believe me. When I realised what happened to me I tried to get out of the deal with Frank Zuko. But I underestimated the man. Or his hate for you. Ray, I have a sister. Catriona. He threatened to hurt her, to kill her, if I didn't go on. He told me nothing of his motives. He just told me he wanted to bring you down. "A gay detective... mixing with a hustler... that should end his career." I can't be part of this any longer. So I decided to leave you. Catriona and me will be out of Frank Zuko's grasp by now. Ray, I wish I had never met you. No, that's not true. I wouldn't miss the last weeks.

Mark"

Ray had the impression that he'd heard his dead lover's voice when he'd read those last words. "I wouldn't miss the last weeks." He suppressed a shudder as folded the letter again and put it back into the envelop.

"Why?" He looked up at Frankie who stood with his back leaned against his desk.

The mob boss shrugged. "I wanted to get you off the street, Ray. My business is expanding, you know. My associates agreed with me that it would be a good strategy to take over another neighbourhood."

Ray nodded. "Your visit at Angelo's place was no coincidence." Frankie lifted his hands in a apologising gesture.

"What went wrong?" With an effort Ray held his growing anger in check.

"With Mark's little sister? That was an accident. A regrettable accident. I had got the impression that Mark would need some more enthusiasm and encouragement. But good personnel is hard to come by these days. The man I sent to her got carried away a little. I will see to this later."

Ray he ld up the envelop. "How did you get your hands on this?"

"The man who killed the girl brought it to me. Mark lost it when he found her."

"How did Mark know where to find you?" Ray had the impression he was holding an interrogation here. But nothing of the information he gathered here would be of any worth outside this room. He stood up and started pacing the study.

"We had an appointment. To clear some details."

"Details about how to bring me down." Ray had stopped his pacing and turned to Frankie. "Why don't you just kill me? It would spare you a lot of fuss." 'And me too,' he thought tiredly.

"Maybe you're right, Ray. But then... the price for killing you would be very high. First, it's bad for business to kill officers. Second..." Frankie broke off.

The detective closed the gap between them and stared down into Frankie's eyes. "Yes?"

"Second it would spoil all the fun."

With a scream Ray was at the other man's throat. His hands seemed to express all the emotions that had built up inside him. Frankie stared at him with his eyes wide open, his arms flailing helplessly. With a thud a blow connected with the back of Ray's head and the detective sagged against Frankie, his hands letting go of his throat. Frankie pushed him back and he fell onto his back and his head bumped onto the carpeted floor. His vision blurred and he had to fight to stay conscious. A feeling of nausea washed through him and he barely avoided to throw up.

Ray was yanked up to his feet by Charlie who grabbed him by his sweater.

He had difficulties to stay on his feet and Charlie held him upright from behind, turning him so that he faced Frankie. He blinked some times to clear his vision. Frankie's face was red and sweaty and his breathing came ragged. "You... you will pay for this. How do you dare to touch me?" he yelled, his face only a fraction distant from Ray's.

Without thinking Ray retorted, "There had been a time when you wished for nothing else, Frankie."

Frankie hit him in the face with the back of right hand. Once. Twice. Ray closed his eyes, preparing himself for the next attack. But the third blow never came. "Ray, Ray, Ray. Why do you do this to yourself? To us? Things could be a lot easier." Frankie's voice had dropped, was nearly a whisper now.

Ray opened his eyes warily, all the time expecting another hit. Instead, Frankie raised his right hand and touched Ray's left cheek. The detective pulled back his head. "Hold him steady," Frankie ordered and Ray felt an iron grip in the back of his neck. Then another grip got hold of his wrists, pinning them together. Ray increased his efforts to break free.

"That won't do." Frankie grabbed Ray by his sweater, turned him around and slammed him with his back into the shelves behind him. Another wave of nausea hit him and he coughed. He let his head hang down on his chest, trying to regain his breathing. "Get something to tie him." Frankie nearly yelled again.

Ray lifted his head and observed Charlie leaving the room. He stared at the open door until the man returned, with a rope in his hand. Frankie made Ray bent forward slightly, so that Charlie could get hold of his hands. All the time Ray tried to regain some control over his mind, let alone his body. He wasn't able to think of a strategy, he wasn't able to fight back.

When his hands were tied on his back Frankie ordered in a sharp voice, "Leave us alone." Ray watched numbly as Charlie opened the door and got out in silence. As soon as the door was closed Frankie slammed Ray into the shelves again. Ray lifted his head in defiance, gathering the poor remains of his spirit. "What would your father say if he could see what you are doing to his precious collection? Remember when you spilled hot chocolate on his first edition of Huckleberry Finn?"

That got him another blow in the face and his head bumped on the shelve behind him. This time Frankie had used his fist. Ray felt his legs go wobbly and the blood trickling down from his nose. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the dizziness in his head. He concentrated on the touch of Frankie's hands that rested on his chest, holding him thus upright.

Frankie's voice was a hiss in Ray's ears. "My father is of no concern here, Ray. Don't you speak of him ever again."

Ray forced himself to smile. "Whatever you want, Frankie. This is your territory after all, isn't it? You rule." He opened his eyes. He had to blink several times to get a clear view of his opponent.

"Did I finally get some sense in that thick head of yours, Ray? You should have learned that a long time ago."

"Well, Frankie, you know that I'm a slow learner. Always been." Ray coughed again. "Could we end this, please? I have to get up early. There is a case waiting for me. Why don't we call it a day, Frankie?"

"We, Ray? There hadn't been a 'we' in a long, long time. I think it's time to refresh some memories." Ray tried to evade the touch of Frankie's hand again, but Frankie didn't heed his efforts. He stepped into Ray, pinning him against the shelves. Ray started breathing heavily. Frankie raised his left hand and started to caress Ray's other cheek as well. Then Frankie pulled his head down, until he could reach Ray's lips with his own.

Ray pressed his lips together tightly, struggling against Frankie's tongue that tried to enter his mouth. Finally Frankie just pressed together Ray's nostril's until the detective had to open his mouth to suck in breath. Frankie's tongue darted forward and entered Ray's mouth.

'Bite it off,' flashed through Ray's mind, but the thought was forgotten the fraction of a second later. He nearly gagged, but the gurgling sound deep down in his throat turned into a moan when Frankie's tongue slit long his palate, like a caress.

Without thinking Ray let his own tongue got entwined with Frankie and he felt himself relax against the other man. The next moment he pulled back his head. 'What am I doing here? This is the man who killed Mark..." He tried to say something but his voice failed him. He could just gasp for breath.

"No, Ray. This is my game. I started it. And I will end it." Ray stared at Frankie and realised that he was serious. In vain, he struggled against the rope. It cut into his wrists, making him gasp in pain.

"Damn you, Frankie..." Finally he found his voice. But his curse was stopped by another blow in his face. Frankie let go of him and he fell heavily down to the floor, onto his side. A second later Frankie was on him, turning him on his back. He started to kiss him again and Ray's resistance rapidly faded. He felt too numb now to fight back. The probing of Frankie's tongue was disgusting and delightful at the same time but soon the feeling of disgust withdraw to a small and distant part of his mind and then the was only the pleasure left.

Ray answered Frankie's kiss now, heightening his passion and desire. His subconscious seemed to have taken over, as he wished his hands to be free, so that he could touch Frankie in turn. By now Frankie's hands were travelling down Ray's writhing body. Frankie had pulled up Ray's sweater and whispered a curse when he found out that he couldn't pull it over Ray's head because of the bound arms. Then he started to massage Ray's chest and Ray felt his nipples get hard. He moaned into Frankie's mouth and then he pulled his head to the left. Both man gasped for air in unisono.

"Please, Frankie... Stop it. I don't..." Frankie shut Ray's mouth by covering it with his left hand, his right continuing the massage.

"You lie, Ray. You don't want me to stop. You still desire me... as much as I want you." He placed a light kiss on Ray's forehead and then he slid down until his mouth touched Ray's chest. He licked his skin and then he started to suck at Ray's right nipple. Ray yelped, but then started pleading again. "No, please, Frankie. Don't." The last word came nearly out as a scream as Frankie pinched the nipple.

Ray heard Frankie's soft laugh that seemed to come from a place far away. Then Frankie started licking again. Ray's already aching groins responded and his erection nearly became unbearable. "Frankie, now! I can't stand it any longer..."

Frankie fumbled for the button of the jeans and finally opened it. He pulled the zipper and then the jeans off and Ray's penis popped free, commented by a throaty moan from Ray. "Yes, I want to hear you, Ray. I want to feel you. Show me your greed, your greed for life and love..."

Ray lifted his head and watched Frankie opening and pulling of his pants, revealing his erected penis. Ray could just stare and breath unsteadily. He was too confused by now to know what he should do. Frankie will tell me. Just listen to Frankie.

"Turn over." With that Frankie knelt beside Ray and grabbed him by his right arm, then pulling him over so that he lay on his stomach. Ray turned his head to the right, resting a cheek on the carpet. He waited for Frankie to make the next move. "Spread your legs." That was simple and Ray followed Frankie's instructions. He closed his eyes, sighing, when he felt Frankie's fingers probing between his buttocks. First it was only one finger sliding into the hole, then a second. Ray hissed in pain as the third finger glided into him.

"Ray, try... try to relax. You... you do f... fine." Frankie's voice sounded husky and his breathing came fast. Slowly he pulled his fingers out and started caressing Ray's ass cheeks. Ray started moving and moaned as his cock rubbed against the carpet beneath him.

Frankie got behind Ray and pressed his erection against his ass. Slowly he guided his penis into the cleft and slid inside Ray. Ray arched up into a kneeling position and Frankie pushed forward. A few seconds they joined in a smooth rhythm of rocking. Frankie reached for Ray's erection and took the penis in his right hand. Slowly he started to pump and Ray let out a long throaty moan. Passion and heat built up between them. They continued to rock and pump in perfect harmony, finally reaching the peak almost at the same time. Ray felt Frankie cumming into him and then he screamed as his own semen splashed on the carpet. Exhausted he lowered his head - which he had thrown back when he had cried - back onto the floor. He closed his eyes and wished he would never have to open them again.

End of Night Three