Author's Notes: Thanks to Arrow for the helpful beta!

"Whoa!" I brake my sled at the crest of a small hill. That must be...yes, it's Inuvik. The square shapes of the houses look strange to the eye amid the winter landscape, with its lack of straight lines and angles.

"Hey, give me some warning." Ray brakes his sled behind me, his lead dogs panting at my heels. I bend down to scratch Jana's ears, and she leans into my hand. She and Katya are both well trained, following in my trail with no hesitation.

"You should keep some distance between the sleds, Ray."

He grins, unrepentant. "Not my fault that my team is faster than yours. Bet we could overtake you in a race."

"That," I say in mock severity, "is because I am carrying more load. In a fair race, there is no doubt about who would win." Diefenbaker yips in agreement from the front of my team.

Ray draws breath to reply, but sees the reason why I stopped. He points with one thickly mittened hand. "Hey. What are those, buildings?"

"Yes, Ray. It's Inuvik."

"Huh. Feels weird." Yes, it does. The welcome work of the trail has filled my days, and even if one part of my mind has been carefully calculating the days and distances we had left, I hadn't thought much of the actual ending of our quest. Or perhaps I hadn't wanted to think of it. Ray turns to me.

"Civilization, Fraser. Hot water. Beds. Fresh vegetables. You know, my mom would cry from joy if she knew how much I wanted a tomato salad right now."

I smile into my scarf. "Well, I'm afraid fresh vegetables and fruit are expensive and in short supply in this season so far north. But we certainly do deserve something special."

"Oh yeah. I'm gonna splurge." Ray grins widely in anticipation. Indeed, it's been two weeks since we last stopped to restock our food and fuel, and we are both mighty tired of rehydrated chicken curry and rehydrated goulash stew, which were unfortunately the only two dinner options available at the last place.

"Well, let's go." I lift my foot from the brake, and the dogs set off again at my command. The snow conditions are excellent and we have a slight downward slope ahead of us. I feel I could go on sledding forever, but I know that the dogs need rest, and the spring will soon bring heavy, wet snow.

In the afternoon, we pull up beside Julie Komak's kennel. Our teams start barking at the smell and sight of other dogs, but at Diefenbaker's growl, they quiet down to low, excited whines. I tie the sled to a tree and knock on Julie's door. She opens almost immediately, and her broad face looks surprised, creasing into lines as she smiles. "Benton Fraser! I didn't know you were around these parts."

"I'm just visiting. I've been on an expedition with my partner, Ray Kowalski." I indicate Ray, who waves at her. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, the usual," she replies. "How long have you been out?"

"Well, for two months or so. Actually, I have a favor to ask of you. Do you think our dogs could stay with you for a few days? It's only until I can work out the logistics of returning them, and I would pay you for it, of course."

"I suppose so. Watch it, though'"my Rain is in heat, and I don't want to breed her by mistake this time. She's over by the shed." I resolve to speak to Diefenbaker about that. He's firmly convinced of the superiority of his genome, but I wouldn't want to alienate our host.

We remove the harnesses and stake the dogs on wires strung between the spruce trees. Ray hefts a half-empty bag of dry dog food and glances at me, and I nod and begin to unpack the sleds.

"Do you think I could borrow your stove to heat water?" he asks Julie.

"Sure, help yourself. There's a big kettle in the cupboard on the left." She leans against the side of a tree. "Did you hear that the Nelsons' daughter had a child last fall? And that no one knows who the father is?"

"Oh, really?" I reply politely, while she proceeds to get me up to date on the Inuvik gossip. I've just sorted out the baggage and listened to the tale of a heated dispute over hunting rights when Ray returns with a heavy pail full of soaked dog food. He's beaming at me. "An electric stove, Fraser! I never thought that would feel like the height of luxury."

While we distribute the dog food, Ray stops to worry over Harris, one of his wheel dogs. He's a hefty dog with a thick ruff of fur, who probably has malamute blood somewhere in his past. "He didn't eat anything yesterday either. Could you keep an eye on him? He's easy to recognize'"he's got all this long fur."

Julie nods and looks at me. "Anything else to keep in mind?"

"Well, Sally here has a crack in her paw, you might check it for infection tomorrow." I indicate my other lead dog.

"Right, I'll do that." Ray and I collect our things and prepare to leave, but he hesitates. "Wait, let me just say goodbye to my team."

"Of course." He goes along the picket line, murmuring inaudibly to the dogs and ruffling their fur. Jana turns up her belly to be rubbed, and Diefenbaker snorts out his opinion of such shameless fawning. I laugh. "Dief, does the expression 'throwing stones in a glass house' mean anything to you?"

He ignores me, trying for dignity. I caress Sally's ears in goodbye, and we set off. The road is covered with hard, packed snow and is easy to walk.

"How far is it to town?"

"Oh, not far--perhaps two kilometers or so."

Ray makes an impatient gesture.

"That is, about one and a quarter miles."

"Okay. You know, I think I'll miss the dogs. They were kind of like our family out there."

"Yes, so will I." A family. Yes, perhaps that's true. I remember the nights when the cold wind bit deeper than usual, when the smaller dogs and those with a less heavy coat slept in the tent with us, smelling of dog breath and warm fur.

We soon reach the outskirts of town. Ray exclaims over the above-ground utilidors, but quickly grasps their purpose and nods over the practical solution. We manage to find a bed and breakfast that is quite to Ray's satisfaction, and Dief's as well, since they have a room where dogs are allowed. "I thought you would find this hopelessly rural after Chicago, Ray."

"If I'd come here straight from Chicago, sure. But compared to frozen ice fields, this is luxury."

The middle-aged woman who runs the place looks at us over the rim of her glasses. "Would you like separate rooms?"

I look at Ray for guidance. He shakes his head. "Nah. We've shared a tent for months, sharing a room will still feel like we're in a ballroom suddenly."

The proprietor hands us a single key, expression carefully neutral. I'm sure we look scruffy, our hair and beards long, and I hope we don't smell too much. Ray draws her into a conversation concerning the relative merits of the restaurants of Inuvik, while I shoulder my pack and head up the stairs. Our room is furnished in an overly flowery fashion, in my opinion, with lacy curtains over the window overlooking the street. It is dominated by two beds, side by side, and a small table with two chairs. I find the air stuffy and close, and open the window to the cold air and the sounds of gulls and occasional traffic.

Ray bursts through the door and dumps his pack by the bed, then sprawls on it, bouncing experimentally. I suppress a smile.

"God, a bed... Strange, though, it feels kind of too soft."

He frowns, then sees the bathroom door, which is ajar. "Oh yeah. Dibs on showering first, Frase."

"Feel free, Ray. And no, Dief, the bed is not intended for either dogs or wolves."

Ray disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the sound of water running. I apply myself to unpacking and laying out the new shirts and jeans that we bought before checking in, all our old clothes being worn or dirty or both. The shower runs for a long time, and then it stops, and I hear the faint sounds of Ray drying off. Then silence, and small noises, something metallic clinking on the sink... Ah. Ray is shaving.

When he comes out, a thick white towel around his waist, his skin is rosy all over with the heat of the water. He grins widely and looks positively transported. "God. Hot water. You know, that was almost a religious experience."

I try not to stare at him, and I suspect I'm failing. Such expanses of bare skin, pale everywhere, except for the slight sunburn on his nose. His cheeks are smooth and beardless, and I wonder what they feel like. Straightening, I put my arms behind my back. Ray raises his eyebrows. "Forgotten what I looked like, huh?"

"Ah, no, Ray. But if I may point out, you still don't look entirely like your old self."

Ray glares at me. "Don't you dare laugh at my hair, Fraser. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?"

"I see your point, yes."

"Cut it for me later, will you? I look ridiculous."

I make a noncommittal sound and enter the bathroom, which is steamy and warm. Shedding my dirty layers of clothes, I step into the shower, and the decadent heat of the water rushes over me. I scrub myself all over, washing away old layers of skin and months of sweat and grime. Hot water must truly be one of the purest pleasures of civilization. It wakes my senses to new life, and I stay in the shower for far too long.

When I emerge clean-shaven with a towel around me, Ray is dressed in a shirt and jeans, and is wielding a pair of scissors and a comb, doubtless borrowed from the reception downstairs. "Nice to see your face again, Frase. Let's get your hair cut."

"Now?"

"When else?" He moves one of the chairs into the bathroom and motions me to sit. The mirror is still steamy, and I wipe it off so I can see what Ray is doing.

"Still wet. That's good, it's easier that way."

"Have you done this before?"

"Sure. Used to cut my friends' hair when I was young. Saved them the money for a haircut, you know?"

Ray runs his fingers experimentally through my hair, and my eyes drift shut. His fingertips run lightly along my scalp, and I suppress a shiver. I hear the distinctive sound of a lock of hair slowly being severed, and a few hairs drift along my shoulder. Ray brushes them off.

He takes his time cutting, sometimes making little "hmm" sounds and combing my hair out, and then suddenly taps me on the temple. "Hey, I'm finished. Tell me what you think."

I open my eyes, feeling warm and relaxed. The mirror is beginning to steam up again, but I can see a blurred image of myself, my hair half-dry and curling up a little. My haircut is subtly different, but nothing I can put my finger on. Fashion was never my forte, anyway. "That's fine, Ray. Thank you kindly."

He nods, satisfied. "Do me now, okay? I better take my shirt off, though, or it'll get all hairy."

He takes off his shirt and wets his hair again while I dress myself in jeans and a flannel shirt. Ray is towelling his hair when I get back, and he sits down on the chair while I stand behind it. Hesitating a little, I gather up his hair. Ray closes his eyes, exhales, and leans a little into my hands, utterly trustful. My heart swells in my chest.

I call up an image in my mind of Ray before the quest, and carefully cut his hair, mentally estimating the proper length on each portion of his head. The soft damp strands run through my fingers, and perhaps the haircut takes a little more time than strictly necessary. Finally I pause, watching Ray's reflection in the mirror. His face is serene, as if he is sleeping, and his skin golden in the yellow light. I give in to temptation and slowly run my thumbs from the nape of his neck down to his shoulders.

Ray startles a little, goosebumps rising on his chest as his nipples tighten. "Hey, that tickles, Fraser."

He looks critically at his reflection, then nods. "Wow, you're actually good at that. Who knew? Though, I don't know why I'm surprised."

"Well, let's just say that if you had wanted a haircut other than your usual one, I might not have been as successful."

I sweep up the hair on the floor, mingled light and dark, while Ray draws his shirt on over his head. Dief looks utterly smug, having availed himself of the bed while we were otherwise occupied. I give it up as a lost cause.

"So about dinner, remember what I said about splurging? I asked downstairs about restaurants, and she said there was this nice place with local food, like fish from the Mackenzie river. What do you think?"

Ray is clearly enjoying taking the initiative here, and I nod, watching him thoughtfully. Something about him is different, but it's hard to pin down. Perhaps he is less...belligerent? No, we had some memorable rows on the quest--the time that we mislaid the camp stove fuel springs to mind, for instance. Then, as I lace my boots, it comes to me: some restraint that lay between us is gone. We were close in Chicago, too, often touching briefly in some way, but there was a tension keeping us apart which has now dissipated, so that our casual touches almost become caresses.

As if to illustrate my thoughts, Ray tugs gently at my newly short hair. "You having trouble tying your boots, Frase?"

"Not at all, Ray." I quickly finish tying them.

The air is pleasantly chilly as we walk through the streets of Inuvik, snow creaking under our boots. The restaurant turns out to be an unassuming place with red checkered tablecloths, but the smells: I close my eyes and flare my nostrils, feeling my mouth water. Thyme, and that must be venison, and, hmm... balsamic vinegar, sweet and complex. I reflexively lick my lips, suddenly overwhelmed and ravenous.

"A table for two, please. Yeah, sorry about him, I think he's analyzing your recipes by smell. That or he's finally cracked."

"Ray!"

The waitress is trying not to grin. She turns and we follow her bouncy brown ponytail to a table in the far corner of the room. It proves a challenge to choose from the menu, and meanwhile, we order drinks.

"Just water, please."

Ray sighs demonstratively. "Remember the splurge thing?"

"Ray. I'm sure I would just fall asleep if I drank alcohol now, and as I'm heavier than you, I doubt you would appreciate carrying me back."

"Fine. But if I have a beer, you can drink some of it, okay?"

"Well, all right. Though I think wine would be more suited to this kind of food."

"I'm a beer kinda guy, all right? Wine always makes me think of going to fancy parties with Stella."

I look down. "I'm sorry."

"No, that's okay." He shrugs, and turns to the waitress.

"One beer and one water, okay?"

She notes this on a pad of paper, then recommends some dishes on the menu. I choose the venison, and Ray the locally-caught salmon. When the waitress has left us, Ray leans one cheek on his hand and fiddles with his napkin. The candlelight puts his face half in shadow. I wonder whether his cheeks are perfectly smooth, or whether there would be a hint of stubble if I were to run my fingers against the grain. "You know, it's kind of cool how coming back from the wilderness makes you appreciate things you always took for granted before."

"Oh, yes. I've always felt that if one is not in a position to fully appreciate a luxury, then one shouldn't indulge."

"Huh. Maybe you're right. Then again, I've always been more about the instant gratification." He grins, and it's difficult not to interpret it as flirting.

Our food arrives, and it more than fulfils the promise of the scents that fill the restaurant. I eat slowly, savoring the fresh meat and the small carrots and other vegetables that accompany it. There's a touch of red wine in the sauce. I'm surprised to find a restaurant with such good food in Inuvik, but perhaps there have been more tourists in recent years. Of course, it could just be that my appetite after the long quest makes all fresh food taste wonderful. Ray looks similarly engrossed, until he looks up and pushes his beer glass across the table. "Come on, take a sip."

I obey him, of course. The tips of my fingers make marks in the condensation on the glass, and I place my lips on the rim where Ray's mouth has been. The bitter, rich taste of the beer is delicious, but leaves no room to find the taste of Ray. I push the glass back over the table. "You didn't like it?"

"I do. It's very good beer."

"But you don't drink. Yeah, I know." He nods quickly, accepting it.

In truth, I don't need the beer. I am already intoxicated enough. We finish our main course, and Ray looks at me through his lashes. "So how about some dessert, huh? I think we've earned it."

"Certainly." We both order pears cooked with ginger and honey, with chocolate sauce on the side. The taste unfolds on my tongue, rich and sweet, and I close my eyes and suck every trace of the chocolate from the spoon.

"Really into the pleasure thing tonight, are you?" I open my eyes, and Ray is looking at me, amused.

"Try it for yourself--it's really quite remarkable." I eat, watching him do the same. Seeing Ray's fingers handling the spoon, his eyes as he glances up at me, I suddenly know in my gut that we will have sex tonight, that we both know it, both look forward to it.

Recklessly deciding to test this unspoken understanding, I draw my index finger through the chocolate sauce left on my plate. Keeping my eyes on Ray, I raise it to my mouth and lick it, then slide it slowly between my lips, sucking. Ray's reaction is gratifying. He stares at me, mouth opening slightly as he flushes. His breath quickens, becomes shallow, and at these unmistakable signs of arousal, desire flares up in me, as if I am a banked fire that is suddenly supplied with fresh air.

"You think it's time to go back?" His voice is low and husky.

I swallow. "Yes."

We pay and compliment the cook on the food, and then we are walking back through the streets of Inuvik. We are silent, but our arms brush occasionally.

Diefenbaker looks up from the bed as we enter the room. "Dief. Could I trouble you to wait outside?"

He makes a rude sound, and Ray chimes in. "Come on, wolf, out the door. We'll make it up to you later."

Dief slinks out, with a reluctant glance back at the no doubt comfortable bed.

I hang my parka on a peg, then sit down to untie my boots. Ray does the same, but much faster, then leans against the wall, watching me intently. This thing between us has been so long coming, that it feels both strange, and inevitable, that it should happen now, in a bed and breakfast in Inuvik. Why not on the quest, when we lay side by side, sharing breath and body heat? Or in Chicago, as a consequence of our countless half-aware touches, never quite admitting what we were doing?

I feel no urgency now, only a sense of anticipation, my nerves singing with Ray's proximity. "Ray, do you want a cup of tea?"

Ray shakes his head. "No. No, I do not want a cup of tea. Come here."

I move, standing close to Ray, but not touching him anywhere. Our eyes lock together, and I can see his chest rising and falling rapidly. Ray makes a tiny sound, of frustration or need, and closes his eyes. He leans his head back and his lips part slightly, inviting me. I lean forward and brush my lips over his, dry and almost chaste, then let the tip of my tongue search for his. His hands come up, bunching in my shirt, then the weight of his body pushes me across to the other wall, pressing up against me.

"God, I want--I can't--" Ray is murmuring broken sentences, his hands burrowing under my shirt, his mouth open and wet and demanding, and I settle my hands on his hips. I open up and let him in.

"Instant gratification, Ray?" I murmur into his ear.

He laughs breathlessly. "Yeah? You call this instant? Like we haven't been waiting for years."

Ray's chest is bare now, and his jeans half-unbuttoned. I can't recall undressing him, but perhaps I did. Ray's warm hands are sliding my jeans off, skimming my erection, then pinning me to the wall again.

"You have a point, yes." I push back against Ray, matching his force and then exceeding it, so that he stumbles back toward the bed. I follow, pausing to push the two beds together. Ray lies back on the unfortunate floral sheets, grinning as he pushes his jeans and underwear off. I find myself riveted by the sight of his flushing erection and the curly blond hair around it. "Hey, are you coming to bed, or are you just gonna stand there?"

"I was simply...admiring the view." I take my underwear off, sliding onto the bed, onto Ray, and the warmth and welcome of his nakedness against mine makes the breath catch in my throat.

By unspoken agreement, neither of us speak of the future. It is as if this room is a place of safety, where we are closed off from consequences so long as we do not mention them. Perhaps here, I can say what I want. I raise myself up on my elbows, looking down at Ray. His lips are wet and his cheeks perfectly smooth, so that he looks youthful, almost boyish. "Ray, I want you inside me."

His mouth opens, and he says nothing, but I can feel his erection straining against me. Then: "Yes, I...God, yes."

But then he frowns. "I don't, um, have a condom. You got one?"

"No. But I'm reasonably sure I have no communicable diseases." I don't elaborate, not knowing how to say that I haven't had sex with anyone since Victoria. But he doesn't question me, just nods, that little upward motion of the chin.

"Yeah, I figured. I'm clean too, I got tested after...well, it's not important." He looks down, and I don't pursue it.

"All right then." I rummage in my pack for the jar of fat we've been using on our faces and hands. I meet Ray's eyes and look steadily into them. Coating my fingers liberally, I reach back and slip a fingertip inside myself. Ray gasps, and his penis, which had softened a little, fills and hardens again. He stares intently at me as I stretch and prepare myself, my fingers sliding in and out. Slowly, he reaches for the jar, then his finger joins mine, stretching further, and I moan in anticipation of more.

I want him then with an abrupt need, and I reach out and take with both hands what Ray offered me, pushing him back on the bed and closing my hands around his erection, covering it with the fat. I position the head against my opening and bear down, feeling him penetrate and fill me. I feel greedy, reckless, the slight pain only lending an edge to the pleasure.

"Oh...I have to...you're..." Ray is clutching the sheets, his head thrown back, and I can see his Adam's apple move as he swallows. He's all the way inside me now, and I move up, then down, his hips moving in counterpoint. I gasp at the jolt of pleasure that hits me, and Ray grabs my hips, thrusting upwards again and groaning. "God, I'm not sure how long I can last."

Neither am I. I pry one of his hands off my hip and wrap it around my erection, his fingers smearing the wetness there. I put my hand around his and move in a rhythm that grows faster and harder until climax hits me, shaking me as I am lost in the selfishness of physical pleasure.

"God, Fraser, you are so fucking hot." I open my eyes to see Ray looking urgently up at me, his stomach and hand spattered with my semen. "Can I, um, be on top?"

I slide off Ray to lie on my back, and he kneels between my legs, sliding smoothly into me again, groaning as he thrusts hard, lifting my hips off the mattress. I am limp with satisfaction, letting Ray carry all my weight as he strains against me, cries out and buries himself one last time inside me. Then his taut body relaxes against me, becoming heavy and loose-limbed.

Ray laughs softly against my shoulder. "Well, that didn't take long. I mean, for either of us."

"No, I suppose not." I run my hands along his sweaty back, and he shifts so that his penis slides out of me. "But we have all night."

"Oh yeah." I can feel him grin against me.

We settle into a more comfortable position, my arm under him, his leg between mine, holding each other as closely as we possibly can. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, and his head is tucked under my chin. Gradually, our breathing slows and becomes even, synchronized.

"Close your eyes," he whispers, and turns his head up to mine. I feel his lips on my jaw, then on my mouth, soft and unhurried. Tentatively, his tongue meets mine, lips parting. We kiss, and the sweetness of it draws me in, and time seems to slow like dripping honey. We could kiss for hours, and it feels like we do, until we both slip beneath the surface and fall asleep.

***

I can't feel my arm. Experimentally, I try to move it, but no. There's a displeased grunt in my ear, and I blink fully awake as Ray burrows into my shoulder. Oh. Yes. I smile helplessly into his hair, still smelling faintly of shampoo.

"Ray?" I shake his shoulder with my free hand.

"Mmph?" He looks up, blinking.

"I'm afraid my arm has fallen asleep." Ray rolls away, and I move my arm, waiting for the pins and needles to wear off. It distracts me from the potential awkwardness of the moment. When I glance at Ray, though, he seems relaxed enough.

"Shower?" he says.

"That sounds like a good idea." I look at Ray's chest, knowing that it is sticky with my semen, and my penis twitches. The grin on Ray's face tells me he doesn't miss this. "C'mon, let's go."

The shower stall is fairly small, but I'm sure we don't mind the enforced closeness. I sigh out a breath as I feel the hot water sluicing down between our bodies. Ray's renewed erection is hard against me as he rubs my chest with soap, paying especial attention to my nipples, presumably not in the interest of cleaning them.

"You like that?" he says, one hand on each of them.

"Yes, very much so."

"Mmhm." His hand slides down to stroke me firmly, and I push backwards against him. But then I gather my wits, taking his hand off me with some regret. "Wait. Just'"wait."

"Huh? Something wrong?" Ray says, sounding uncertain.

"No. I just...want it to last longer." I turn and kiss him, blinking water out of my eyes. He nods. "Fine, let's get back to bed."

I have no idea how long we slept, but a glance out the window tells me that it's still dark. There is no moon or stars by which to tell the time, and I don't particularly want to know it. I don't want to think about when the sun will rise.

Ray pushes me down on the bed like a man with a clear goal. "I really, really want to suck you now, Fraser."

I nod, as if there is anything else I could have done. The first touch of his mouth on me sends my breath rushing out in a gasp. Ray sucks me with dedicated concentration and evident delight, not unlike the way he ate his chocolate sauce at the restaurant. I am sprawled against the pillows, my legs spread wide, and I watch his hips moving rhythmically against the bed. That's a waste, I think somewhat incoherently. I want to do that.

I try to twist around to reach him. Ray is apparently too focused on what he is doing to grasp my plan, because he clings to me like a limpet, but finally I manage to rearrange us. When I take his erection into my mouth, he makes a surprised-sounding noise around me, then jerks his hips forward, sliding further into my mouth. I suck him as well as I can through the pleasure that makes my mind vague and hazy--my simultaneous capacity apparently isn't as good as I thought.

Ray gets pushy when I apply my tongue on the head, his hips bucking, and I hold him still with my hand, not daring to go deep in the state I am in. I don't think I can last much longer'"I don't know what Ray is doing, exactly, but it's driving me crazy.

A spark of competitiveness makes me slide my finger into my mouth alongside Ray's penis, and then work it in between his legs, penetrating him. This leaves his hips free to thrust, and I gag slightly, but the result is worth it: when I push my finger deeper, Ray takes his mouth off me to cry out, surprisingly loudly, and thrust harder. My mouth fills with semen, tasting slightly bitter, and I struggle to swallow while Ray shudders through his orgasm. I pull my finger out, and Ray moans, his body shaking a little more.

"God." His voice is hoarse, and I can feel his breath, hot and panting against my thighs. "Let me do you now."

Without waiting for an answer, he pushes me over to my back and holds my hips down, sucking me hard, then easing up. I try to thrust, but can only wait for the heat of his mouth to descend again, and when it does, I surrender helplessly, moaning and spurting into his mouth.

I stare at the ceiling, thinking about moving my body around to lie with my head at the top end, but not finding the energy. Ray seems to be in a similar state'"I move my arm a little, touching my fingertips to his sweaty chest. "Mmm. Ray?"

"Knocked you out, did I?" he murmurs, sounding satisfied and drowsy.

"Well, it seems to be mutual," I say, trying to tease him, but it comes out much too languid.

With a grunt of effort, I manage to sit up and turn around, pulling Ray's back against my chest. We're much too warm for the sheets, but I pull them up from the floor should we need them later. Ray's skin sticks to mine in a not entirely pleasant sensation, but the comfort of having him close far outweighs it. Fleetingly, I wonder how people manage to sleep together in tropical climates.

I let my hand wander over his soft, relaxed belly, lightly furred with hairs. Fur. Oh no. I groan and get up. "Huh? Frase?"

"Shh, Ray. I forgot about Diefenbaker." He's about as pleased about that as one might imagine, but then sniffs me and offers a congratulatory whuffle and rolls up on the carpet. I curl up behind Ray again and pull the sheets halfway over us. We fit together so well--like the shapes of Africa and South America, I think whimsically, although the reason is something other than continental drift. I yawn, then sniff at Ray's neck, rubbing my face against it. My hands go wandering again, first over his hip, then down to cup his limp genitals. They fill my hand, heavy and soft, and I feel something deep within me almost growling: Mine. My Ray.

Ray squirms, halfway asleep. "Not gonna get it up again any time soon."

"No, that's not what I meant. I just want to...feel you." I squash down the possessive feeling. He's not mine, not in the least. He's his own person, and this is merely like holding a bird in my hand, one that has chosen to alight there briefly, of its own free will. I gather my courage and prepare to break the spell. "Ray, perhaps we should..."

He interrupts me, sounding annoyed and drowsy. "In the morning, okay? Let's do it in the morning. Go to sleep."

I give in, with relief and a twinge of guilt. "All right."

I'd thought I would lie awake fretting, but I don't. Curled around Ray, I surrender to sleep simply and easily, as if my body knows something I don't.