Author's Website: http://www.mrks.org/~viridian/

Disclaimer: 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 since I have nothing that has any monetary value. Besides, I'd just kick you in the head.

Author's Notes:

Story Notes:

As Ray swung his lunch bag, obviously enjoying the unseasonably warm weather, his humming became a snatch of song. "'Cause it all begins again when it ends / And we're all magic friends...." He stopped and looked horrified.

"Ray?"

"You ever get the feeling like you don't own your own mind?"

Since he'd entered my life? Constantly. "More often than you'd think."

His slow, lazy smile undid me. "You think you know how often I think?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I replied with all due stiffness.

He smirked, then sighed. "All the important stuff I forget, but I still know the words to a song that hit it big, like, ten years ago. And not even a cool or edgy song, no. Hey, kids on a rope."

Accustomed to Ray, I didn't remark on the breakneck subject change, simply looked where he pointed to see 32 children with name tags holding a rope in an effort to keep them together. Their two caretakers looked quite frazzled. "It's good to see Chicago youngsters getting an outing."

"Oh, yeah. We take them out to the park to hunt squirrels so that they may become men and women in the ancient rituals of our tribe." At my look, Ray shrugged and said, "You have yer Inuit stories, I have mine."

"Mine are true."

"Yer so sure mine aren't?"

Something I saw at the corner of my eye caught my attention. A speeding car driving recklessly. "Ray, stop the children from walking out into the street," I said as I started to run.

"Shit." Ray ran, Dief pacing him, to the front of line and set himself as an obstacle, right at the corner. I was already too far ahead to hear him but not far enough ahead to do anything as the car careened into a sports utility vehicle and finally came to a halt. Another moving car turned to the side and stopped to miss the accident but was then hit from the side as a different one couldn't brake in time. The collisions took up the crosswalk where the children and their caretakers would have been.

I saw Ray already on his cell phone reporting the incident as he also tried to calm the children. At least the 27th was only three blocks away and the hospital not much farther. Confident that he had his part of the situation under control, I started to check on the drivers and passengers.

As soon as I gave my report on the incident to the responding officers and emergency medical technicians and made sure the victims were as comfortable as they could be, I walked over to help Ray. Given how much more hyperactive the children seemed to be after the excitement, I thought he could use some.

One boy tugged at my sleeve. "Are you a cowboy too?"

I crouched down. "A cowboy?" Ray did have his badge clipped to his belt, and his light jacket must have pulled away from his holster at one point.

Another one affected a superior air. "No, stupid, he's a doorman. See the uniform?"

"Actually, I'm a Mountie."

"What's a Mountie?"

Before I could launch into a description, Diefenbaker whined with resentment. "It's like herding sheep," I told him. He informed me that he was a wolf, not a sheepdog. Sheep were food, not part of his job. And the children were pulling on his fur. He would get me for this; oh, how he would get me. "Like you haven't been doing that the whole time I've known you?"

The children gave me an odd look, walked away, and went back to harassing Ray and their caretakers along with the other students. "When can I get a tattoo?" a little boy asked Ray.

"Uh, I got mine when I was, uhm, 38," he answered. A lie, but a lie told with the best intentions.

"That's really old."

"You have no idea, kid."

"My name is David! See?" He pointed to his nametag.

"Gotcha." Ray mouthed the words "Help me" at me.

I stood beside him and whispered, "Why did you take off your jacket anyway?"

"Oh good, blame the victim," he muttered back. "They already noticed my gun, I was feeling too hot, and I didn't think it could do any harm. Teach me to get cocky. Oh, I called Welsh. He'll let us walk the kids back to their school once the uniforms let us go."

"Let us?"

"I asked if we could, okay? It's all right?"

"Very much so."

"Thought so, but I wanted to make sure. I'm working my way into heaven here. Penance. Don't know what I did to deserve 32 hyper 6-year-olds hanging on me, though. Then again, you know, Mum used to tell me that I'd understand someday. Right after she wished a big brood of kids on me."

One of the caretakers walked up and smiled. "Thank you for everything."

Ray smiled back, his eyes sparking. "No problem. It's the right thing to do." Her beauty obviously caught his eye the way shiny objects caught a bird's but didn't hold him rapt as it once would have.

I kept my smile at that thought carefully submerged. It wouldn't do to get too self-satisfied. Or, at least, to become too self-satisfied in a way that Ray would notice.

Once "the uniforms," as Ray called them, cleared us to leave, we spent the next 30 minutes walking the children back to their school and answering a barrage of questions, some of them charming, some of them impossible, and more than a few that were quite rude. My attempt to answer that I could still be called a Mountie even if I didn't have a horse in the United States filled up ten minutes alone with all the interruptions, and I still hadn't finished my explanation at the end. They also sang. Loudly and off-key. It seemed that their close call had left no scars. Ray seemed to be having an easier time handling them, as he had an energy level--and sometimes, alas, attention span--that corresponded with theirs.

As we, with some relief, said our goodbyes to them, one boy latched himself onto Ray's leg and said, "Thank you, Mr. Police Man!" The rest of the class, far "cooler" than that boy, snickered. Diefenbaker skillfully sidestepped a girl who wanted to grab him.

"Thanks, uh, Stephen," Ray said, looking touched but fidgety. I could tell that he had to fight the urge to remove him.

Stephen smiled bashfully, detached, and ran off to join his class as they entered the building. Ray and I waved until the doors closed.

"I found out that there is something worse than having 'Joyride' stuck in yer head," Ray said as we began to walk back to the 27th.

Since he didn't continue, I prompted, "And that would be?"

"Having the alphabet song as sung by tone-deaf six-year-olds stuck in yer head."

"I would imagine so. And I won't let you plant it in mine."

"That's not buddies." Ray gave me his most winsome pout.

"Not even for you would I let that contaminate my brain."

"Spoilsport. I've been thinking about that 'Ellemenopee' though. She was Ulysses' wife, right?"

"You're unhinged." From my pocket I removed the small packet of candy Stephen had given me.

"Taking candy from babies, Fraser? Candy that has its name atrociously spelled, even."

"Is there a reason why 'tarts' is formatted into all capitals?"

"Somebody thought it looked cool? You know, I'd be careful with those. I don't know if you're ready for 'em."

"Really, Ray."

"Really."

I opened the small packet and popped a yellow one into my mouth. My God. I nearly choked as my tastebuds exploded in pain. I could feel my face puckering and managed to gasp, "That's revolting!"

Ray smirked, enjoying my comeuppance. "The lemon ones, yeah, but I kind of like the kick they have. And the orange are kinda frightening. Grape too. Wow, I can see yer whole face drawing in on itself. You should spit it out."

"I can't."

"Then you should-- Oh, shit, don't bite down on it...."

I heard him too late. As the candy split under my teeth, sour yet sugary powder burst out and went straight up into my nose. I coughed violently.

"Okay, we found the Mountie Kryptonite." Ray moved in close and put his hand to the nape of my neck, rubbing to comfort and calm me. "Just ride it out, guy."

His hand worked, because suddenly dangerous candy became the last thing on my mind. My whole body responded to his sure, bolstering, possessive touch on my neck. As the motion of his long fingers stirred the tiny hairs there, I felt myself get hard. I wanted to clear the putrid sour-sweetness from my mouth and replace it with the sweetness or coffee bitterness of his lips or the salt of his fingertips.

I was so hungry.

I wanted him. I always wanted him. But I must not have him, not now, not while we were on duty. Later.

My lust must have been visible, because his smile deepened into something feral, satisfied, and nearly predatory, which only increased my lust. We made a circuit, Ray and I. "I guess it's a good thing none of the kids asked when they could get a Mountie for a partner," he said, his voice like warm honey and smoke.

"You could have told them they could get one when they're 38."

"That's really old." Ray cheerfully swung his lunch bag. "You know, I'm whistling yer private tune."

"And you're the heart of the funfair, Ray."

Ray paled. "No. No way."

Smiling a little, I sang, "And it all begins where it ends...." before he clapped a hand over my mouth and replied, "Et tu, Benton? You suck."

I briefly teased his fingers with the tip of my tongue, enjoying salt and warm, rough skin. "Maybe later, Ray."

***THE END***

NOTES: Inspired by hearing ::shudder:: Roxette's "Joyride" on the radio, a recent personal reaction to SweeTARTS, and a child doing an off-key rendition of the alphabet song next to me on the train....

"Joyride" by Roxette

I hit the road out of nowhere, I had to jump in my car
And be a rider in a love game, following the stars
Don't need no book of wisdom, I get no money talk at all
She has a train going downtown, she's got a club on the moon
And she's telling all her secrets in a wonderful balloon
Oh she's the heart of the funfair
She's got me whistling her private tune
And it all begins where it ends and she's all mine, my magic friend

She says: Hello, you fool, I love you.
C'mon, join the joyride. Join the joyride

She's a flower, I can paint her, She's a child of the sun
We're a part of this together, could never turn around and run
Don't need no fortuneteller to know where my lucky love belongs,
Oh no
'Cause it all begins again when it ends and we're all magic friends

She says: Hello, you fool, I love you.
C'mon, join the joyride. Join the joyride

Be a joyrider

I take you on a skyride, a feeling like you're spellbound
The sunshine is a lady, who rocks you like a baby

More Viridian5 stories can be found in The Green Room version 2.0 at http://www.mrks.org/~viridian/

No-frames but no-frills access available at http://www.mrks.org/~viridian/Viridian_side.htm

Fandoms represented: due South, Hard Core Logo, Twitch City, X-Files, Once a Thief, the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie, Angel, Andromeda, Two Guys and a Girl (was Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place), X-Men, Doctor Who, Fight Club, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine