Author's Website: http://www.dementia.org/~jacquez/writing/fanfic.html

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Author's Notes:

Story Notes:

Fraser watched Ray poke at his eggs. He'd been poking for five minutes and had gone through three cups of coffee, but had yet to put any actual eggs in his actual mouth. Fraser himself was halfway through a serving of buckwheat pancakes, and he'd given up listening to Ray's caffeinated nonsense after the second cup.

Instead, he was listening to the girls on the other end of the diner, who were talking about Diefenbaker's cuddliness. Oh, oh. Now they were talking about his cuddliness. And Ray's cuddliness. He really should stop listening, but he wanted to know what they thought of Ray. Not of himself, of course--just Ray.

"Impish," said one of them.

"Pinnochioesque," said the other.

"You know what they say about guys with big noses!" the first girl replied, and the two of them dissolved into giggles loud enough to attract Ray's attention.

"What's up with them?" he asked.

"They were talking about you," Fraser answered, and put another forkful of pancake into his mouth.

"You could hear them?"

Fraser swallowed. "Of course."

"That's not normal, Benny." Ray spun his cup, splashing burnt-smelling coffee over the sides. "What'd they say?"

"They compared you to a fairy."

"A WHAT?" Ray rose half out of his seat.

"Well, an imp."

"What the hell's an imp?"

"A fairy, Ray. A type of fairy, like a sprite or a nixie."

"You mean like a fairy-tale fairy?"

"Well, yes. What else would I mean?"

"What, you don't have slang up there in Canada?"

"We do."

That appeared to satisfy Ray, who settled back into his seat and sipped at his coffee. He ignored his eggs, which by the looks of them were now cold.

"There's nothing wrong with being a fairy, Ray," Fraser said, and Ray snorted coffee out of his nose and into Fraser's plate. Fraser decided not to mention it. "Aside, of course, from the restrictions involving iron."

"Iron?"

"Well, yes. You see, iron can bind fairies--"

"So, if I handcuffed one, it couldn't escape?"

"Well, your handcuffs, being steel, of course contain iron, and--"

"Hey, Benny?"

"Yes?"

Ray reached out and locked one of his handcuffs around Fraser's wrist.

"Oh, dear."

"And if I handcuffed one to my bed?"

Fraser blinked down at the handcuff, and then smiled across the table at his friend. "I suppose he'd be your captive, Ray, for you to do with as you liked."

"My thoughts exactly," said Ray, and tossed a twenty on the table to cover the check.