"Tea & Insanity"
By Viridian5
6/6/00

RATING: NC-17; Fraser/Kowalski/Turnbull.  If m/m interaction 
bothers you, walk on by.
SPOILERS: "Asylum"
SUMMARY: Fraser and Turnbull have plans for Ray.
ARCHIVAL/DISTRIBUTION: Hexwood and Serge. If some kind 
person feels that this story is appropriate for DSX and wouldn't mind
posting it, that would be great as well.  Anywhere else too, as long
as you ask me first.
FEEDBACK: Hell, yes.  Feedback can be sent to 
Viridian5@aol.com
DISCLAIMERS: All things _due South_ belong to Alliance no 
matter how much I want Ray K to belong to me.  No infringement 
intended.  Suing me would be a waste of time.  Besides, I'd just kick
you in the head.
NOTES: The tea place is inspired by my own time at New York 
City's Tea & Sympathy, but Tea & Sympathy doesn't have vanilla 
maple tea; that was something my brother once brought back from 
a trip to Vermont.
Thanks to Kasha for reading, making good suggestions, and asking me to
finish, even if she *really* doesn't like threesomes. At all. Really.
Consider this another graduation present.
Maybe Fraser's jeans aren't *always* really, really tight, but here Ray's
thoughts are tending in a certain direction.... Thus, ever-tight jeans.
Get it?  Good.
A Manic!Viridian production.

=====================
"Tea & Insanity"
By Viridian5
=====================

"So, where are we going?" I asked as I rubbed my gloved hands 
together.  February in Chicago sucked.  Life would be much nicer if I
could drive right up to the door of wherever they were taking me and
get out, but, no, we had walking to do.

Fraser just smiled, while Turnbull said, "It's an outpost of 
civilization." 

"What is?"

"The place we're going to."

I did a very showy look at the city around us before asking, "And this
is, what, wilderness?"

Turnbull smiled at me like I was a puppy who'd just done a trick right.
"Precisely, Ray."

Well, I'd asked.  "I'm looking for details here."

"Oh, you'll like it.  I like it."

I looked to Fraser for help, but he just said, "I concur with Ren.  I
believe that you'll like our destination."

"But it has to be a surprise?"

"Surprises keep life interesting."

"No, surprises usually mean ya think I'll run like hell if I knew what
we were gonna do."

"Hardly, Ray."

I sighed and gave up.  Sometimes outstubborning him took too 
much exertion to be worth it.  Thinking myself warm might work 
better.

Walking around with them made me feel like a target since 
everybody noticed us.  Bad enough with just Fraser and Dief, 
but when a guy walked down the street bookended by two huge 
Mounties and an unleashed half-wolf, people stared.  What really made
it funny was that Fraser and Turnbull weren't even in 
uniform but people just knew, even while they weren't sure what 
they were reacting to and why.  Yeah, they saw two good-looking 
guys, but they had this attitude of respect going too.  A... 
subliminal thing, I guessed.  Fraser and Turnbull's Mountie-ness still
blazed out.  

Tonight they both wore their Stetsons and pea coats but otherwise went
for streetwear.  Yeah, a pea coat would be streetwear for most folks,
but theirs looked official, uniform-like, somehow anyway.  Turnbull wore
Fraser-style jeans, which meant that they were so 
tight you could see his pulse and know which side he dressed on.

I didn't mind most of the time--hell, it was damned scenic--but 
tonight the two of them going around dressed like that made me 
itch.  I had to get a grip.  Oh God, no. Change the subject.

I didn't know where they were taking me, but I assumed it was 
some kind of Mountie hangout or something.  I knew Fraser had 
things he did off-duty, usually with Turnbull, when I couldn't be around,
and I wanted to see what they were.  The way they both 
did this Cheshire Cat grin thing in my direction when they thought I
wasn't looking made me wonder, though.  Mounties with secret 
agendas, go figure.  

I should probably be terrified.

We stopped at a storefront and walked into a tiny room crowded 
with tables.  My Mountie escorts removed their hats at the same 
time like the crack, well-oiled unit they were.  I just rolled my eyes.

The place looked like some English granny's room with its 
porcelain knickknacks on wall shelves and the tiny versions of 
the Union Jack set here and there.  All the customers had teacups and
pots in front of them.  "Civilization"... or the Twilight Zone.  But
it was warm and cozy.

"Ren, Benton!  It's nice to see you again.  Hello, Diefenbaker." The
cute blond hostess had a nice accent, not the "official" English accent
but nice.  Down, Ray.  She crouched down to pet Dief a bit.  Lucky dog.

"Good evening, Anne," Fraser said as he shook her hand.

"Likewise, Anne," Turnbull said before he kissed her hand.  "Have they
changed your schedule again?"

"I'm afraid so.  Shame on you for coming by when you thought I 
wouldn't be in."

"In this case, we're simply working with Ray's schedule.  This is Raymond
Vecchio, and he'll be joining us."

You knew you were out with Mounties when they introduced you 
to the hostess.  "Uh, hi.  I'm kind of a newbie here."

She smiled at me.  *Down*, Ray.  "You couldn't have picked 
better guides." She led us over to a small table by the window.  The
Canadians would probably like the draft.  "Your favorite table is empty."

"Thank you, Anne," Fraser said. 

"Just let me know when you're ready to order."

Fraser and Turnbull sat on one side of the table, me and Dief on the
other.  Yeah, Dief sat on the chair next to mine and made like he was
looking at the menu.  Fraser said he could read maps....

My breath caught as I felt something slowly brush across my leg 
under the table.  Fraser, sitting right across from me, gave me this
look of clueless angelic innocence.  Me, if I still had a halo it would
be tarnished and hanging crooked over my head, but I 
polished it up and gave him my own best innocent look as I 
indulged in a long leg rub right back.  His eyes closed a little and
may have even smoldered.  Oh yeah.  Now we're getting 
somewhere.

But we had Turnbull sitting right nearby, and it didn't feel right playing
footsie in front of him, so I stopped.  Just before I buried my eyes
in the menu, I noticed the disappointment that quickly slid across Fraser's
face and smiled.  Turnbull had this odd look on 
*his* face.  Kind of... amused?  Hmm.

Anyway, the menu.  One scan showed me terrors beyond 
imagining.  I mean, kidney pie?  No thanks.  

Fraser must have seen my expression, because he said, "We're here for
scones and tea.  You can pick your own tea."

Oh, can I?  Looked like my Mounties were taking me in hand.  Oh, damn,
bad thought.  Okay then, it looked like they were getting me scones.
I just wished I knew what Fraser and Turnbull had 
planned here.

I didn't know this many kinds of tea existed.  What the hell were "typhoo"
and "lapsang souchong" anyway?  Finally the waitress 
came back, so I had to make a choice.  "I'll have the strawberry kiwi."

"Excellent choice, Ray," Turnbull said.  "That's an herbal tea with no
caffeine."

"You trying to say something here?"

Turnbull smiled.  "Not at all.  I'll have the Earl Grey, Anne."

Fraser said, "Vanilla maple for me--" 

"Fraser, ya don't have to be patriotic 24 hours a day."

"Very amusing, Ray, but I simply enjoy the flavor.  Anne, I'd also like
a plate of scones for each of us, please.  Thank you."

We passed the time with small talk, mostly work-related.  Fraser and
Turnbull saw some weird shit while standing guard duty at the consulate.
At least nobody had been stupid enough to do anything illegal in front
of them yet.  Who'd decided to relocate the 
consulate a few blocks from the 'hood anyway?

The talking was... nice.  Pleasant-like.  Normal life, or close to it.
But Fraser seemed nervous and restrained, and it wasn't about 
having Turnbull around, because we'd gone out with Turnbull 
before.  I started to worry.

Anne brought our stuff in twenty minutes.  To my surprise, 
we each got a small pot of tea.  Fraser's was plain navy blue, 
Turnbull's was a gilded deep red with flowers, while mine was 
white with a bridge and countryside drawn on it in medium blue.  Mum
would like it.  We got mismatched cups too.  Homey and 
funky all at once.  A strainer with a cap came with each for some reason,
but that probably had something to do with the total lack of tea bags.
I'd never done tea that didn't come in a bag on a string before.  Three
scones on a plate with a small cup of strawberry jam and some kind of
cream came next.  

Anne leaned the butter knife on what looked like a tiny, metal 
barbell on the table, I guess so the end I used for the cream and jam
didn't end up on the table.  Wonder if Stella knew about these. 

Deja vu hit me, taking me back to time served at fancy dinners 
trying to figure out which fork went with what dish.  I'd hated that,
especially since I couldn't shake the feeling that people around us wondered
if Stel had just hired me off the street for the night.  I knew she hadn't
been thrilled with my early performances even 
though she did try to put a good face on it.  I could see I was 
costing her with the people she was trying to impress, and I 
couldn't let that happen.  So I'd made it into a kind of undercover assignment
and learned by watching, being careful all the while 
not to get caught at it.  It worked there; it would work here.

"Is something wrong, Ray?" Fraser asked.

"Nah.  Just deep thought."

Watching them showed me that I should use the strainer every time I poured
myself some tea.  Good thing too, since bits of leaves and small tattered
chunks of actual strawberry came out the spout along with the red-pink
tea.  Looking into the pot--because I couldn't help myself--showed me
something that resembled a forest pond, 
clogged with leaf shreds. 

Fraser looked kind of amused and affectionate at me all at once.  So
much for not making a spectacle of myself.  But Turnbull said, "I think
my own resembles mud," and lifted his strainer to show 
me.  Good guy.  Fraser's displayed tea mud looked lighter and less gritty
and smelled like a leisurely breakfast from the maple.

Four teaspoons of sugar later, I had something in my cup that 
tasted like hot fruit punch.  Not bad, especially for the winter.  It
left me feeling warm and full on the inside.  I'd have to keep it in
mind.  

The scones tasted like really dry and crumbly buttermilk biscuits, but
they were good with the jam.  The sourish cream did nothing 
for me with them.  Sour cream went with lots of things, just not biscuits.
Fraser and Turnbull topped theirs with cream and jam.

Dief kept making sad, hungry puppy eyes at my scones, which was 
just selfish since Anne had brought him a nice chew-bone.  He 
leaned halfway into my lap and did his "I love you; ain't I cute" routine,
the one he always did when I had something he wanted.  
With the way he kept nuzzling my neck and kneading my crotch 
with his paws, it looked like he was willing to put out for a scone.
With jam, since we shared a sweet tooth.  It took skill to keep my tea
safe.

Left to myself, I'd give him a little piece.  With Fraser watching, it
wouldn't happen.

"Diefenbaker, show some dignity, please," Fraser said. 

The half-wolf grumbled, gave me one last pleading look to let me know
he'd be under the table if I changed my mind or could find a way to sneak
him some, got off me, and settled back down to his 
bone, shooting reproachful looks at Fraser now and then.

"Ray, I commend you on your way with a teacup," Turnbull said.

"That was just balance.  I'm used to fighting Dief off."

"No, I meant that you seem to be knowledgeable in the ways of a 
cup and saucer. I am impressed." He seemed to mean it seriously.

He was right too, though. I'd even remembered the bit with the 
pinky.  "Mum trained me well." If I had a nickel for every time I'd heard
"You want some tea, Stanley?" before I moved out on my 
own, I'd be living the life of Riley on my own tropical island now. 
"A lot of big tea drinkers on her side of the family, and they took it
seriously.  It actually pissed them off that the folks on Dad's drank
theirs so weak that it was almost colored water.  To keep the peace I
learned to--" Shoot, I couldn't find a way to say this that didn't sound
like a double entendre.  To be switchable?  To take it both ways?

Once Turnbull realized that I'd stopped because I needed a rescue party
and he could politely cut in, he said, "Considerate of you to take cues
from them."

"Oh. Yeah.  Thanks."

"Yet I can understand that kind of dedication.  Tea really should not
be briefly dipped into the water."

I shrugged.  I would have liked to see someone tell that to, say, Aunt
Olya.  She could bench-press me.  Hell, she could bench-
press Turnbull.

Turnbull continued, "A connoisseur can immediately detect 
differences in brand, water quality, and a number of other factors."

I just *had* to say, "Must be one really sensitive tongue you got there."
Oh, Lord.  Only good thing here had to be that this hole I was digging
would be deep enough to throw myself into afterward.  Then maybe I could
pat the dirt back down over me so I could 
hide....

And so much for Mr. Innocent across from me, whose bland 
Mountie face showed some cracks.  I'd be annoyed that he found 
this funny if the very fact of him *getting* it, against everything he
usually said, didn't give me such a jolly. Maybe it would fly over Turnbull's
head, since his mind couldn't be as dirty as mine.  Or Fraser's, it turns
out.

Turnbull gave me an intense, earnest look and said, "You're not 
the first to say so.  It requires a great deal of experience. Practice.
Sampling." Usual expression, yeah. But his voice slid low and 
deep.  It *did* things.  Things that made me feel he'd left the topic
of tea far behind.

The part of me saying, C'mon, it's Turnbull, kept getting drowned out
by the part of me that wanted to sprawl invitingly in my seat.  I'd already
started.  Damn.

I almost jumped when I felt a stroking hand on my knee.  Of the 
two Mounties across from me, only Fraser had one hand out of 
sight.  I smiled lazily.  Turnbull nodded and signaled the waitress to
get us the bill.

I started to see the lay of the land.  Sneaky Mounties.  Not that I minded
much.  

Not that I intended to make things--and myself--too easy on them. 

******************************************************

They played normal all the way to my apartment.  Nothing 
different going on here, no sir.  Never mind how hard a time I 
had concentrating on my driving while I kept distracting myself 
with thoughts of what might come next.  Or might not come next. 
With them being so normal--well, Canadian Mountie normal--I 
started to wonder if I'd imagined it all.

Hot- and cold-running Mounties are evil, I tell you.

I didn't know what to do with myself once I let them into the 
apartment.  I couldn't offer them tea because we'd just had it.  As we
all took off our coats, I wondered how long they'd leave 
me hanging on the hook.

"Ray?"

When I turned to face Fraser, he pulled me into a kiss and 
embrace.  He tasted like Sunday morning breakfast.  Oh yeah, 
the vanilla maple tea.  I gave myself up to him.

Fraser's hands all over me left me so distracted that I didn't notice
he was pushing me backward until I bumped up against something.  Wall?
No, too lumpy, especially at this one point where it dug into my back.
Too... Turnbull?  I think I may have squeaked in 
surprise--smooth, Ray--but the squeak turned into another sound as his
big hands came around my waist and started to unbutton my 
fly.  He was helping Fraser, his higher-up.  That's really... well, actually
it was kind of fucking strange.

We are Mountie; you will be assimilated?

How many other things did they do together?

And Turnbull sure as hell wasn't clumsy anymore, not with how 
fast and gracefully he had his hand in my pants.

So I had almost every inch of me covered in hot Mountie, and, big old
slut that I was, I was enjoying the hell out of myself.  If they wanted
to make me the filling in a Mountie sandwich, who was I 
to argue?  They smelled like wool and pine, the good things about winter,
and they had that blanket thing *down*.

Fraser took a break from working over my mouth and grinding 
against me to ask, "Is this okay with you, Ray?" I never heard 
him sound so husky and darkly sexy before.

He wanted me to talk now?  "Yeah, oh yeah," I managed to gasp 
out.

Licking his lips, he smiled and moved out of arm's reach.  "Are 
you sure?"

If I didn't have Turnbull holding on and stroking me for dear life, I'd
throw myself at Fraser.  Whether to jump him or kill him, I 
couldn't say.  Maybe I'd jump him, then kill him. But Turnbull 
made the whole thing moot anyway.  "Yeah, I'm sure. I've never 
been so damned sure of anything in my life.  Now get back here!"

"You are being a trifle cruel," Turnbull said against the top of my head.
Sexed up as I was, even his breath against my scalp made 
me crazy.

"Perhaps.  I'm told anticipation adds spice.  You've never 
complained before, Ren."

"My own personal experience suggests that you're correct, sir."

"He calls ya 'sir' during sex too?" I had to ask.

"Sometimes," Fraser said.  "Sometimes I call him 'sir.' It all works
out in reciprocation."

Oh God.  I was in the hands of loonies. They were going to torture me
to death.

But then Fraser moved up against me again.  This time I grabbed 
him and clutched his shirt to keep him where I wanted him.  My 
attempt couldn't match the six-foot-plus Mountie holding me from behind,
keeping *me* still and distracted, but I didn't have their resources,
so I did my best with what I had.

But the way I was holding on was interfering with him getting 
me stripped.  He actually looked frustrated.  Turnbull said, "I do believe
that Ray wears more layers of clothing than we do.  I count four."

With two pairs of hands on me, I figured it had to be a show of 
strength and iron will that I gasped out, "It's winter, okay?  Geez."
Hell, just finishing a thought, never mind a sentence, had to be a sign
of stamina.

"We'll try to keep you warm then," Fraser said in a husky, sexy 
voice, but his dark honey tone turned exasperated as he asked, 
"Ray, how can it be that you never wear anything that unbuttons 
from the front?"

Oh yeah. They'd have to pull everything off over my head.  
"That's not true.  Some of my jeans and pants do."

"He is correct, sir."

"Thanks, Turnbull," I said with a smirk.  "Look, if you two can 
back offa my irresistible body or whatever for a few seconds, I'll do
this, okay?"

They moved away, giving me space.  Amazing how cold it felt in 
here without them.

I managed to grip all four of the layers' hems with my hands and shuck
them off in one shot.  It was a talent, you know?  As the last of it
cleared my head, I could see Fraser looking at me hungrily, like I was
the special of the day and he hadn't eaten in a long time.  I could *feel*
Turnbull looking at the back of me.

It felt kind of awkward--me half-naked with my fly open and dick out
while the two of them were fully dressed and staring at me--
like in those nightmares where you're at school butt naked and 
everyone notices.  But then Fraser reached out and tried to smooth my
wildly mussed hair down, which worked about as well as that 
ever worked.  I couldn't help grinning.

They must have decided all at once that they weren't being 
hospitable enough to me because they started to take off their 
clothes at the same time, like it wouldn't be polite to be dressed when
your host wasn't.  If synchronized speed-stripping ever 
became an Olympic sport, I had Canada's team captains right 
here.  It was like being in the eye of a Mountie tornado.  I guess you
learned to strip fast out there in the Canadian cold to keep your goodies
safe.  Even watching them, I had no idea how they could 
peel out of those tight jeans so quickly.  Practice, I guess.  They didn't
seem to be setting out to do it sexy, but all that bending and flexing
had an effect anyway.

Once I had my own pants off, I stood back and did the appreciative audience
thing.  I didn't know what had been in that tea or how 
long it would last, but I intended to ride this roller coaster as far
as it would go.

Fraser turned out to be as beautiful as I expected, but Turnbull....
Geez, the guy was hung like a bull.  Everything on him was big. 

"Is this better, Ray?" Fraser asked.

"Oh, much." As long as I didn't think about what Turnbull might 
want me to do with that thing.  "So what's yer plan of attack 
here?"

"Ray?"

"Choreography.  Moves.  How are ya gonna work this with the 
three of us?"

"What do you want?"

I wanted everything, but that didn't really tell him much.  Well, they
were being so cool and unshockable about all this that I 
decided to go in for the kill, see if I could get that calm look to shatter.
"I want you to fuck me, Fraser."

I did get that brief look of surprise from him before he licked his bottom
lip and said, "That could be arranged."

I shivered. "Cool.  You got any things you wanna do here, 
Turnbull?"

"I'm more than content with sucking you, detective," Turnbull 
answered in his usual tone.

I just about choked.  "Sounds like you had that one ready."

"I regret to say that I wasn't able to keep my eyes averted the 
whole time you were changing into my uniform that day."

"How could you?  You were helping me put yer uniform on."

"I took a few liberties I didn't have to."

I must have fallen into the Mirror Universe; it was the only 
explanation.  And I'm complaining?

"As I've had more time to think about the logistics here, I do 
believe I have a course of action planned out," Fraser said.  
"Ray, if you would be so kind as to brace yourself against the 
wall?  Face the wall and position yourself as if you were a 
suspect about to be frisked."

"He always this bossy?" I asked Turnbull.

"The payback makes it worth it," Turnbull answered.

Okay, now I *had* to do this.  "You particular about which wall 
too, Fraser?"

"I leave the choice of wall to your discretion."

"Well, geez, thank you kindly." I faced the wall and braced myself as
ordered--legs spread, ass hanging out--and waited for what came next.
I hope they remembered I'm not very patient.  The wall felt tacky under
my sweaty palms.

"Excuse me, Ray," Turnbull said as he briefly moved me aside to 
settle on his knees in front of me.  I started to see where things were
going here.

I heard Fraser moving around a ways behind me.  "You getting 
properly prepared back there?" I asked.

"Of course, Ray."

But when I began to turn my head to look, Turnbull grabbed my 
hips and started to tongue my bellybutton.  My already hard cock twitched
more--trying to get his attention, I guess--but the 
bellybutton thing felt much better than I expected.  His short hair brushing
my skin helped.  The moan that came out surprised me, 
but the way my legs spread themselves didn't.  They're no 
dummies.  Turnbull rewarded my behavior by stroking my balls 
as his tongue fucked the last place I figured would appreciate it. 

Turns out that he was the diversion, because when Fraser started to nibble
at my neck, I nearly jumped in surprise.  As he kissed his way down my
spine, his hands stroked my front on the way down 
too.

"Do you like this, Ray?" Fraser murmured against the small of my back
as his hands ghosted over my ribs so lightly that it made me shiver.

"Yeah, yeah, what do you think?" I rasped.

Fraser kissed down my ass, making me wonder if he was going to 
end up where it looked like he was gonna end up.  Then he did end up
there, making me jump with a hot puff of breathe before 
applying his tongue, swirling around and around before thrusting in.
Oh, yeah.... I only had enough brainpower to remember maybe one word
at the point, so I kept groaning "more" over and over.  At the point,
Turnbull gripped the base of my cock in one of his big hands--which I
appreciated since I didn't want this party to end too soon, even if it
was torture--before applying his mouth to my balls, licking them like
a cat, sucking one in, then the other....  Wow. Get three guys with an
oral fixation in a room together, and stand back.  Being attacked on
two fronts, I didn't know which way I should 
move my hips.

When Fraser switched to fingers, I gave up on pretending I wasn't some
kind of slut and just let myself push down onto them.  Okay, I wasn't
pretending too well before that, but now I let myself 
totally go.  I mean, he had nice, thick fingers, and they knew 
exactly where to go.  At first I thought that tingling in my spine came
from being worked over so thoroughly, but then I realized 
that Fraser was murmuring something into the small of my back 
again.  I liked it; I really liked it.

I felt like I should be doing something besides just standing there and
taking it, but I really couldn't think much beyond that over the lust
pounding through my body.  I know I would have lost it totally when Fraser
asked, "Are you ready, Ray?" if Turnbull didn't have such a firm grip
on me.

I think I answered something like "Mmmm" or maybe it was 
"Guh," but Fraser got the point.  He slid his fingers out and slid his
cock in so slowly I thought I would vibrate apart from impatience.  I
was so close to *enough*....  I tried to move to speed things 
along, but Turnbull managed to hold me in place with just one 
hand on my hip.  Well, that and the other thing he had gripped, 
which I was kind of attached to.

Fraser chuckled against my neck.  "Patience," he said softly.  My muttering
about being tortured amused him too.  "Ren?"

Both of them sort of purred and growled at the same time as 
Turnbull finally sucked my cock in and Fraser started to move.  
I almost fell apart at the way it all felt all at once.  Fraser started
slow and too gentle but quickly picked up speed.  I moaned 
something about him going harder on me, and he did, letting me 
feel it all through my body.  The perfect slide of Fraser inside me and
me inside Turnbull's soft, slick mouth...  It was too good and almost
too much.

And it was a good thing I had Turnbull's grip on my hip, my hands braced
against and sticking to the wall, and Fraser's cock pushing me up to
keep me standing because I'd just be a puddle on the 
floor otherwise.  No way to think or stand or breathe under the lust
and everything I was feeling.  Pleasure kept coming at me from all directions:
pressure and friction sliding at my sweet spot from the inside, Fraser's
teeth at my neck and fingers pinching my nipples, Turnbull's hot mouth,
tongue, and hand around my dick while his 
short hair brushed against my skin.

Then Turnbull's hand let go of my dick.

I came so hard I thought it would kill me, like it had ripped my spine
out and taken my brain with it.  Or it could just be the force of Fraser
crying my name and letting go into me.  White out.  
When I came to feeling like warm and happy jelly, I had Turnbull kissing
my mouth hungrily and thrusting against me until he shot off too.  He
tasted like strawberry jam and me.  From the lazy, 
almost uncoordinated way Fraser moved behind me, it seemed that 
he felt knocked out too, which made me feel kind of smug.

I wanted to sleep like this, resting against Turnbull's broad chest with
Fraser draped across my back.  Warm....

I vaguely heard a "Sir, I think we'll have to--" before a post-
mindblowing-sex coma put weights on my eyelids and dragged 
me under.

*****************************************************

Toasty warm, I woke up held in somebody's deathgrip around my 
waist.  Since it's been forever since I woke up with anyone, it took
me a while to even figure out who it could be.  I mean, I don't 
think a burglar would snuggle with me after he broke in.  He, yeah. 
It was definitely a man.  Fraser?  But no, when I opened my eyes I saw
a very tousled and self-satisfied Fraser lying in front of me and a bit
underneath me.  *That* was why my "pillow" felt so warm 
and firm.  

Guess he'd been watching me sleep.  Sweet.  And kind of creepy 
too, but in a Fraser way.  Then I remembered everything.  That 
made it Turnbull who was spooned against me and sighing in my 
ear.  And pressing a budding hard-on against my leg.

While Dief sat and stared at us from the end of the bed.

Weirdness.  "Uh, hi."

Fraser smiled, all sunny, and stroked my hair.  "Did you sleep well,
Ray?"

"Like a rock." I wanted to play it cool and wait a bit, but Fraser looked
so normal about all this that I blurted out, "You two do 
this often or what, you and Turnbull?"

"Ren and I have been involved on a recreational basis for some 
time now."

"Recreational?  The Canadian government doesn't let you guys go 
to a gym like anyone else?"

"Our Chicago consulate is woefully underfunded."

"Huh.  Yer kidding with me."

"Yes, Ray.  We are offered a comprehensive fitness program.  
However, the consulate is indeed underfunded, and Turnbull 
and I do have an understanding."

Oh. Suddenly I had to revise my thoughts of them passing time 
with tea, talk, and checkers to them doing naked Mountie Twister.  It
was disturbing and hot all at once. 

I was getting used to that.

"In any case," Fraser continued, probably unaware of the hamster wheels
spinning in my head, "I confided my feelings for you to 
Ren, and he decided to help me out."

"By holding me in place in case I tried to run away?"

"I should say not.  Well... maybe."

"Yer not one of those people who needs someone else watching to 
be able to get it on, are ya?" I gave it a moment, weighing what I thought
of it.  "'Cause I'm okay with that too.  I just wanna know." 

"Not at all.  I just knew that I would be far less likely to back down
from my resolution to let you know how I feel if Ren stood nearby watching."

"And much harder to back down if he's participating, right?"

Fraser shifted.  It could be from emotional discomfort or the way that
my bed was too small for three grown people and he had his 
ass kind of hanging out over the edge.  "Are you upset about that, Ray?"

I couldn't help thinking about the solid feel of Turnbull at my 
back, his large hands roaming all over me, his mouth on my....  
"Uh, no.  A guy just likes to know where he stands, how his dance card
is filled.  If I'm with ya or just some fancy sextoy you and Turnbull
decided to try out." 

I was still in too much shock over the way that the world had 
turned tumblesaults today to even know how I felt about that 
little possibility.  I couldn't see them doing that to me, though. 

"You make a spectacular sextoy."

"Uh, thanks.  No one ever told me that before." That's for sure.

"People don't compliment you enough." Fraser stroked my hair 
again and smiled at it. It made me wonder how many directions 
it was spiking out in.  "I care very deeply about you.  We care." 

"I'm a well-loved sextoy?"

"Among other things." Fraser kissed me again.  "You'd like to 
know if we shall always be three together?"

"I wondered."

"What do you want to do?"

"It's all up to me?"

"I believe that Ren should have some say, but much of it is up to you."

"Wow."

"He's quite open-minded."

"Is that so?"

"Of course. He's Canadian."

"Sounds like yer slamming Americans, but I'll let it slide since I feel
so good."

It didn't take much thought to come up with an answer.  I mean, I was
lying here warm and comfy, snuggled between two people I 
liked who'd gone all out for me.  Been a long time since I felt this
cared for.  Contented.

"Things have been good so far," I said.  "I wanna keep going on 
like this if you guys are okay with it."

"I think you'll be pleased with the results, Ray," Turnbull said into
my ear.

"You been shamming all this time?"

"Ray?" Turnbull asked.

"Pretending to be asleep but actually awake and listening in."

"I regret to say that I was awake but lazing about out of indolence and
a nearly obscene self-satisfaction."

"Sure.  I'm gonna have to give ya twenty lashes with a wet noodle for
that."

"Would you really?"

Oh, brother.  But I could feel him smiling into my neck, so I knew he
was just kidding with me.  Fraser was grinning like a loon too, but he
did it where I could see him.  He gave me this slow, slow kiss that made
me need to see him the next time he did me. 

Hey, there was going to be a next time.

But I had to lay some ground rules first.  "So we're good.  But I don't
want things to get weird on the job.  I mean, things are 
already weird with you, Fraser, but I mean I don't want them to 
get weird where what we do after hours gets in the way."

"Understood.  Commendable thought."

Hmm.  It seemed like Fraser was throwing a lot of understandings and
compliments my way since I put out.  Maybe I'd have to test 
that little theory out.  Sounded like fun.

I realized that Turnbull was throwing Fraser a saucy look over my shoulder.
Fraser moved closer to me and asked, "Are you quite 
recovered, Ray?"

"Only one way to find out," I said.

I vaguely heard Dief whine and skedaddle off the bed as my guys 
converged on me.  As Turnbull nibbled on my ear and ground 
against me, while Fraser kissed and stroked the hell out of me, I briefly
wondered if this meant I had a harem of Mounties or they had me as a
kept pet.

Oh hell, I could figure it out later if I still cared.

**********************THE END***********************

More Viridian5 stories can be found in The Green Room at 
http://members.tripod.com/~drovar/viridian/

Fandoms represented: due South, Hard Core Logo, X-Files, 
Once a Thief, the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie, Angel, 
Two Guys and a Girl (was Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place), 
X-Men, Doctor Who