Disclaimer: All characters are property of Alliance; no money is being made out of this story.

Author's Notes: Thanks to Sel who gave this a read-through, despite the fact that it's barely long enough to need it. & feedback would be gratefully welcomed!

Story Notes: No spoilers, no warnings.

It's very hard to leave him when he's like this, with his long, warm limbs curled round me and his breathing slow and regular as he sleeps. I think that maybe Inspector Thatcher has guessed at our relationship and is not best pleased - hence the sudden need for me to be on duty at the Consulate at 7:00am these past few mornings.

I stretch out and turn off the alarm before it can wake him, and set it for two hours later when he will need to be up and about. I don't know why I bother - he freely admits that he never goes back to sleep after I leave. Two nights ago I suggested that it might be better if I slept out on the sofa - then I'd be able to get dressed and go without waking him. Deaf to all his protests, I settled down in my bedroll when it was time for sleep. That lasted for about all of half an hour before he appeared in his bedroom doorway, naked and rumpled and moody, ordering me to `get your ass in this bed, Fraser, before I kick you in the head'.

Each time, I try to disentangle myself and slide out without disturbing him - someone so energetic needs their sleep - but it never works. He always wakes, rubbing his face against my skin and I feel the prickle of his stubble against my shoulder, or in the crook of my neck, or on my stomach. He can choose some amazingly convoluted positions for sleeping.

This morning is no exception. Gently, I try to pull away from him but his arm tightens around my waist and he nuzzles my chest as he wakes. His voice is husky when he speaks, `Already?'
`Yes.'
`S'too early.'
`I know.'
Reluctantly, I move to get out of bed and, equally reluctantly, he lets me go. As I stand and stretch, I can hear him grunt as he rolls into the warm hollow left by my body. `I think maybe she knows.'
I don't have to ask who he means. Sighing, I admit, `I think maybe you're right.' Another grunt is the only response I get as he burrows under the covers.

Moving as quietly as I can, I shower and dress and come to kneel by the bed to say goodbye. He rouses as I stroke his hair and murmur his name. `Ray-' Rubbing his eyes, he sucks in a deep breath. `Coming by the station later on?' `Of course.'
A smile lightens his face. `Greatness.' He leans over to kiss me goodbye and it turns from the peck on the lips I had intended to something much more. One of my hands finds its way under the covers to touch the skin of his thigh - warm and bare, the blond hair slightly rough against my fingertips. I feel him taking my hand and gently guiding it up to rest between his legs on his half-hard penis. My fingers curl around it and I stroke once, twice, even as I murmur against his mouth, `Ray, I want to, but I can't...I have to go.' `Hmmm,' he sighs languidly, and moves against my hand before letting go of my wrist. `Fine. Guess I'll just have to take care of this myself. Remember?' I know what he means and have to close my eyes. I remember how he `took care of himself' last night when I asked him to, and how erotic he looked while he was doing it. `Go on, get.' A push in the chest rouses me and I find Ray looking at me affectionately. `Horny Mountie...nice.' A brief kiss. `Go on, I'll see you later.' Kiss. `Love you.'

Finally I find my voice, `I love you too Ray,' and am rewarded with a brilliant, if still sleepy, smile as he turns over and pulls the covers up around himself. I stroke his hair and stand up.

Yes, it's very hard to leave him when he's like this. I promise you Ray, one of these days I'm going to call in sick. For both of us.

End.

End Daybreak by Kat: krystalz42@yahoo.com

Author and story notes above.