Nightmare Nightmare by MR Author's website: http://unhinged.kixxster.org Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be, though I wouldn't say no if someone gave them to me as a birthday gift. Author's Notes: Written for the Flashfiction 180 Degree Challenge. It was an odd challenge, and this is an odd story. Story Notes: Nightmare By MR Cheerfully whistling "Rock the Casbah," Ray opened the front door of the Consulate and checked his watch. Only 8 a.m. Thatcher didn't arrive till at least 9. With a little bit of luck, he and Fraser'd be halfway to Milwaukee before she knew what hit her. He only vaguely registered the presence of the red-clad figure behind the desk. "Morning, Turnbull." "Good morning, Detective Vecchio, and welcome to Canada." Ray stopped dead in his tracks. The words were the same, but the voice sounded weird. "Turnbull, you got a cold or something?" "Why no, Detective. I'm feeling remarkably fit today. But thank you for your inquiry." No. No. Couldn't be. Despite not wanting to, Ray found himself approaching the desk and peering over the edge, where he was greeted by a terribly familiar smile. "Fraser?" He finally managed to squeak. Fraser's eyebrows furrowed. "Constable Fraser's in his office, Detective Vecchio. I believe he's waiting for you. He mentioned you were going to Milwaukee today to view a baseball game." Ray's mouth remained open, and Fraser/Turnbull started to fidget. "Is something wrong, Detective?" "Ray!" A voice behind him said, and he turned to see Renfield Turnbull, neatly dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt coming down the hall towards him. "I didn't realize you were here already. Really, Turnbull, you should've called me." Fraser flushed. "I'm sorry, Constable Fraser. Detective Vecchio and I were talking and, well, I'm afraid I became rather caught-up in it." In horror, Ray looked from one Mountie to the other; Fraser, sitting starched and upright behind the reception desk, and Turnbull, dressed in Fraser's jeans and red plaid shirt, beaming at him. Then he opened his mouth and screamed as loud as he could. Ray jolted upright in bed, his own scream still echoing in his ears. "Ray?" Fraser was sitting up as well, studying him with concern. "What happened?" Ray reached out and grabbed his lover's shirt. "Oh God, Fraser, it was awful! You were Turnbull and Turnbull was you, except neither of you noticed it! You were apologizing to him for taking up my time!" Ray shuddered. "Shh." Fraser said soothingly. "It was just a bad dream, Ray. There's no possible way Turnbull and I could change personalities and not notice it." Ray was suddenly aware the bed seemed rather more crowded than usual. "Constable Fraser's correct, Detective Vecchio. It's not likely we'd forget who we are." Slowly, Ray turned to stare at Turnbull, wearing a pair of flannel pajamas with bunnies on them, sitting on the other side of him. Turnbull smiled sweetly. He looked back at Fraser, who was also smiling. Then he screamed loud enough to wake the dead. And found himself sitting bolt upright in his own bed. A quick check revealed he was alone, save for the faint snore coming from underneath the covers next to him. Reaching out, he poked the lump. "You awake?" There was a momentary snuffle, and then Dief's head appeared, one eye regarding him blearily, as if to say 'Well I am now, you moron.' "Sorry," Ray said softly, scratching him behind the ears. "I just had the most godawful dream." A whuff. "No, not the one where I'm doing the striptease for Welsh. Turnbull and Fraser switched. They were doing each others jobs. Then I woke up, and they were both in bed with me." He shuddered. Dief studied him a minute, then gave an inquisitory bark. "Yeah, you're probably right." Ray agreed, settling back down under the covers, one arm thrown over his best friend. "No more Tex-Mex food before bedtime." FIN End Nightmare by MR: psykaos42@yahoo.com Author and story notes above.