Author's website: http://www.pertifity.com
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author's Notes: Part of the Livejournal Writing Meme.
Story Notes: Thanks to Ness for helping me figure out how I really wanted to write this, and to Suz, who's a rock.
Ray looked like sex leaning against the black GTO. The thought froze Fraser in his tracks as he was walking away from the Consulate.
A remote part of him - the one that wasn't standing frozen and undoubtedly looking silly - reasoned that it was the events of the day that had claimed their toll.
A morning spent doing paperwork while Turnbull chattered on about lighting fixtures could break the strongest man.
Add to that the fiasco of his lunch break, where he'd chased two shop-lifters but had slipped into a puddle and crashed to the ground in a less than graceful fashion - giving the offenders ample chance to get away (Dief was probably still laughing). His mind was obviously worn down.
"Frase? Hey, you okay?"
He blinked; Ray was standing in front of him, forehead creased with concern. "Ray."
Ray rubbed his arm comfortingly. "What's wrong, buddy?"
"Nothing." Fraser shook himself. "Nothing. I'm just tired."
Ray didn't look convinced. "You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure." He smiled reassuringly, ignoring the way his arm was warming up beneath the hand.
"Okay." Ray gave him a final searching look before moving to the other side of the car. He paused in the process of opening the door, squinting at Fraser. "Is there something different with your uniform today?"
Fraser casually moved his hand over the puddle-induced mud stain. "No."
"Huh," Ray said and got into the car.
The fifth time Ray caught Fraser staring at him, he put down the file he was reading. "Okay, what is up with you today? Did you eat something weird?" His eyes narrowed. "Did you eat something Turnbull made?"
Fraser shook his head and tried to look casual. Like he hadn't just been studying Ray's mouth...and hands...imagining-
"Nothing is up with me today."
Oh god. He'd just uttered the worst pun of the century.
"See," Ray leaned his elbows against the desk, "I should believe you since you're a Mountie and it says that Mounties can't lie in the Mountie handbook or something. However, I also know that you're Mr. Denial about anything being wrong with you."
Fraser frowned. "I don't think-"
"Ack! You don't get to say anything about that."
"Because you're Mr. Denial," Ray said in an isn't-it-obvious?-voice.
"Well, something did happen today," he admitted.
Ray sat up straighter. "Go on."
"Well..." Fraser looked around the bullpen uncomfortably.
"Too open, right." Ray fairly bounced up from his seat. "Let's go."
Standing in the broom closet that had seemed so suitable for intimate confessions before, Fraser suddenly couldn't think of a thing to say. Then, "I had an epiphany."
"Epiphany, right," Ray nodded.
Ray's eyes widened. "God! You've decided to move back to Canada!" He looked horrified.
Fraser frowned. "No."
"Oh. Well, goo- You've decided to quit the force!" Ray exclaimed, veering sharply on the edge of calming down.
"I'm not on the force."
"Oh. Right. No! You've-"
Later, Fraser reasoned, he'd only kissed Ray as a means of quieting him. It really wasn't proper for people to shout in a police broom closet.
And of course, the only reason he pulled Ray's pants down was to see if he was in pain; the moaning was sounding serious.
And the reason he tugged down Ray's boxers? Well, he had to inspect for damage everywhere, didn't he?
Ray obviously approved of his zeal in helping.
"Gaaaawd...n-never calling you Mr. Denial again...honest...Fraser, please..."
Fraser decided that his mind couldn't be too exhausted if he was still capable of helping a partner in need.
End Epiphany by Nel: email@example.com
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