Author's website: http://unhinged.0catch.com

Disclaimer: Not mine, though if they were, this sort've tomfoolery wouldn't be necessary.

Author's Notes: Yes, the item mentioned in this story DOES exist. It was found on Ebay by a friend of mine, who (like Fraser) was searching for one of those things you can use to record reminders to yourself (or so she claims). I took one look at it and knew I had to incorporate it into a story.

Story Notes:

I've almost got my bag packed when Fraser comes wandering into the bedroom. I don't have to look at him to know he's doing the big-eyed Mountie thing; he always gets like that whenever I have to go out of town alone. I don't blame him; hell, if he were the one leaving I'd be hanging on him like a cheap suit.

"Do you have any room left?"

I glance up and notice he's got his hands behind his back. "Depends on how much room it'll take."

"Not much," he produces a small gift-wrapped box with the same sort've flourish a magician uses to pull a rabbit out of a hat.

I reach for it, only to have him slap my hands away. "Ow!"

"It's for when you get to Milwaukee," he says sternly, trying not to smile.

I consider this a minute. "Okay, my birthday isn't for another two months, and we just celebrated our anniversary last week. You've decided to start giving me presents on Vecchio's birthday again?"

He makes a noise that if it came from anyone else I would call a giggle. But we can't bruise his Mountie pride by telling him he giggles. "It's to keep you company. Since I can't go with you."

I take the package and shake it, but no dice. It doesn't rattle. "I'd rather have you keep me company."

"As would I. But I can't leave the Consulate now and we both know it." Unfortunately, we do. He received two brand-new, fresh-out-of-the Academy "assistants" last week, which means he won't dare let them out of his sight for at least two months. "I never believed I'd say it, Ray, but there are days I miss Turnbull. Mind you, he did tend to be flighty, but at least he knew how to answer the phone correctly."

"Which is more than I can say for McGuire." I stash the box in a corner of my bag and zip it up. "Explain to me again how he can be Canadian and have a Scottish accent so thick it sounds like he's speaking something besides English." He just shakes his head. "Hey." I put my arms around him and pull him close. "It's only gonna be two days."

He humphs into my neck, which makes me smile. "I still don't see why you can't fly."

"Cause the city won't spring for it."

"That hardly seems fair. That they expect you to attend the conference, but you have to get there under your own power."

"At least they're paying for the hotel room. Otherwise I wouldn't be going at all."

"And this would be a bad thing?" He's nibbling on my left ear.

"Hmmm...it would when the Lieu wanted my report and I didn't have one." Silence, except now he's switched to the right ear. "Ben, good as that...oh yeah...feels, if I don't get started I'll never make Milwaukee before dark."

He sighs and disengages himself. "Understood

"I'll call you soon as I get checked in, okay?" He nods, and we share a quick kiss. "Love you, Benton Fraser."

"And I you, Ray."

It's funny really; we've only actually been a "we" for a couple of years, but you'd think we'd been together forever the way we hate being separated. Course I hated being separated from him even before we went to Canada, not that I would've told him so, little chickenshit that I was.

We spent eight months out in the middle of nowhere's back yard with nothing to rely on beyond Frase's wilderness skills, and the sled dogs. It wasn't till we got back to civilization that we realized we'd started relying on each other as well. Not for survival, though that entered into it a few times, but just to be there. We were finishing each other's sentences, knowing what the other one wanted without them saying it...hell, we were acting like my mom and the old man, and they've been together going on 42 years. It got to the point where I got twitchy if Fraser went to take a shower and was gone longer than 15 minutes. Then I figured out Frase was feeling the same thing; that there was a reason he just "happened" to show up at Josie's (the local grocery/hardware store) if it took me more than half an hour to pick-up what we needed and get home.

So basically we were left with two choices: Separate and never see each other again (which I don't think either of us would've survived) or admit how we felt and figure out something that worked. Thank God for once in our lives we actually followed our hearts, instead of our damn thick heads. When the dust settled, we'd been through a complicated Inuit "joining" ceremony, Fraser received a long overdue promotion, and when I called the Lieu to see what my chances of maybe finding a spot on the 27th were, it turned out Vecchio and Stella had gotten married and moved to Florida. There was, Welsh said, a very nice Detective, First Grade spot open right at that moment, but if I wanted it I'd better get my sorry ass back to Illinois ASAP.

Fraser, meanwhile, made some inquiries through Buck Frobisher, and discovered the Consulate had been operating under a temporary Inspector ever since The Ice Queen went off to Toronto to play power games. His capture of Muldoon had apparently repaired whatever it was the higher-ups in Mountiedom were holding against him; since they were absolutely delighted to find out he was more than willing to go back to his own stomping grounds.

"Though you know," he told me, as we were preparing to head back to the states, "it may just be that they see this as a convenient way of getting rid of me again."

"Hey, there loss is my gain."

Home again, home again, jiggity jig. We got back to Chicago, bought a house together, and nobody so much as blinked. We saw a lawyer to work out the details of becoming each other's legal guardian, put each other as domestic partner on our insurance forms, opened a joint checking account and even Dewey didn't have anything smart to say. We told my parents, and mom hugged Fraser so hard I thought she'd crack his ribs. The old man looked flustered, shook his hand and mumbled something that sounded like "Welcome to the family, son."

We found out later that pretty much everyone we knew (including Ma Vecchio) had assumed we were lovers all along. Hell, even Frannie managed to finally buy a clue; though not until after we'd disappeared into the Canadian wilderness for eight months and never phoned. By the time we got home she'd married Turnbull and moved to St. John's Bay. We sent them a belated wedding present and got back a very nice thank you letter telling us they were expecting their first kid.

Fraser wasn't sure at first whether this casual acceptance was to be trusted or not. But as time went by and no one said anything, except to extend joint invitations to parties, he realized it honestly didn't make any difference to our friends. I'm sure there are people in the police department that are disgusted by the fact that I'm a cop and gay, but so far they haven't rained on my parade by telling me so. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. I've got Benton Fraser by my side for the rest of my life.

Milwaukee never changes. I swear to God, the same stale, polluted air is hanging overhead that was there when I made my first trip to the place back when I was eight and the old man took Marlon and me to see a Brewer's game. I suppose I should be glad it isn't deteriorating physically, but going there always gives me this creepy feeling, like I've gotten stuck in a time warp.

At least the CPD saw fit to put me up at a fairly nice hotel. Not the Hyatt Regency (Ben and I spent our "official honeymoon" at the Hyatt Regency in Vancouver-we didn't get out of bed for four days, except to use the bathroom and answer the door when room service delivered more food), but a few steps above a Motel 6. It's even got a lobby and a nice little eat-in restaurant. The room is fair-sized, with plenty of towels and 70+ channels on the TV. I vacillate a few minutes as to whether I should call Frase or go take a shower, but in the end calling Frase wins out.

He answers on the second ring. "Kowalski-Fraser residence."

"Hiya, Big Red. I heard Kowalski's outta town for a few days. Wanna have some fun?"

I can tell he's smiling. "I must inform you, sir, that I am an officer of the law and you are in direct violation of several state statutes concerning obscene phone calls. What did you have in mind?"

That cracks me up. "Just wanted to let you know I got here okay. Pretty nice hotel, not that it'll ever beat the Vancouver Hyatt Regency."

He snorts. "Ray, I suspect, in retrospect, that it wasn't the Hyatt Regency itself that was so..."

"Stimulating?" I finish, which makes him giggle. "How'd the day go?"

I can't see him, but I know he's rubbing his eyebrow. "I'm sorry to say that Constable McGuire and I were forced to have a "disciplinary hearing" this afternoon."

"Sounds kinky."

"Well I'd have much rather had it with you than him, believe me. I very much fear I'm going to have to send him back to the home office and ask for a replacement."

"Jeez, Ben, what'd he do?"

"Made some remarks of a rather...personal nature."

"He tried to put the moves on you?"

"Quite the opposite, Ray."

His voice is sad, and all of a sudden I know why. "He called you a fag, didn't he?"

"Something to that effect, yes. It would appear that Constable McGuire was not aware until I arrived that I was, in fact, a homosexual."

"Frase, it's none of his business what you are. You're his boss. If the higher-ups don't have a problem with it, then he should keep his damn mouth shut."

"Unfortunately, Ray, he's not going to do that. His is the sort of prejudice that's lifelong and deeply ingrained. He's ignorant, but like most truly ignorant people, he has no desire to become any less ignorant."

"Shit, Ben. I wish I could've been there for you."

"As do I. But much as we'd like to, Ray, we can't spend our lives living in each others hip pockets."

"Doesn't make it suck any less. Is it likely to cause a stink if you send him back?"

"Not if I don't specify the exact reason, no. I can simply say it was a matter of conflicting personalities."

"That's not right. Doesn't the RCMP have rules against discriminating against someone because of sexual preference?"

"It's one thing to have rules, Ray, and another thing entirely to actually enforce them. You know that."

Unfortunately I do. "Great. Now I'm gonna spend the next two days worrying about you."

"You needn't worry about me, Ray. I'm quite capable of handling McGuire. He's not psychotic, simply prejudiced. He's very well aware that I could state the real reason I'm sending him back. And if he were to request a transfer on his own, he'd have to say why, and I don't think he wants his dislike to become public knowledge." I hear a woof in the background, and Fraser sighs. "Diefenbacher wants to talk to you."

"Put him on. Hey, Dief!" This earns me an enthusiastic bark. "Yeah, miss you to. I'll bring you back a donut, okay? Let Frase back on."

"He's been carrying on rather shamefully," Fraser says, sounding mildly put out. "You'd think he'd been sent to the kennel to board." A definite whine of disagreement. "I could if I wanted," Fraser says, in his "I'm not brooking any more of this nonsense" tone of voice.

"Miss you."

"And I you. Have you opened your present yet?"

"Haven't even unpacked. Lemme get it." I temporarily abandon the phone and go unzip my bag, hauling the package out and carrying it over to the bed. "So. You gonna tell me what it is?"

"I'd imagine you'd rather unwrap it and find out yourself, Ray."

"Good thinking." I rip the paper off and find myself holding a square box with what looks like a picture of an art deco lava lamp on the side. "You got me a night light?"

"Ray, read the box."

"'Love Dome Voice Recordable Vibrator. Innovative, hi-tech record/playback dome recorder with powerful multi-speed vibe. Create a personalized 10-second "love note" for your partner. Just pick up the vibe and your message is activated. Great if you are going out of town or away for the night, leave your loved one a message telling them how much you love and will miss them while you are away.' Fraser!"

"I thought you'd appreciate it."

"You bought me a talking vibrator?"

"Well it's not just 'any' talking vibrator, Ray. Open the box and take it out."

I do, unwrapping the paper around it. "Fraser, it still looks like some sort've weird night light."

"Take the vibrator off the stand."

It takes me a minute to figure out how do that, but when I do there's a faint click and then Fraser's voice. "Ray. I want you to know I miss you terribly and I wish I were there." A little fast, but we're talking about 10 seconds here. Not exactly enough time to declare your undying devotion.

"Ray?" Fraser sounds worried.

"Ben, where in the hell did you find something like this?"

"Ah. I bought it Online."

"Over the Internet?"

"Well, actually, no. I bought it off Ebay."

"You were trolling Ebay looking for vibrators?"

"I stumbled across it by accident. I was looking for something small that would record my voice to give you the next time either of us had to go out of town for a few days. You'd be amazed what pops up when you type "voice recorder" into a search engine."

"I bet."

"Ray, are you upset?"

"You big goof of a Mountie, I'm damn near ready to cry, okay? Only you could manage to find something so totally 'out there' and have it be so perfect."

"So you like it?"

"I love it. I love it, and I love you too, okay?"

"I realize it's not the same as me actually being there. But I know how lonely I get when you're gone, and I hoped perhaps being able to hear my voice without having to call me long distance would make it easier."

"It will. But what about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. Here I am with my 'Love Dome Voice Recordable Vibrator,' and you're sitting at home alone."

"Well, actually, Ray, I bought two."

"You got one for yourself?"

"Yes."

"But I never recorded any message on it. Believe me, Ben, I'd remember something like that."

"You did. You just weren't aware you were recording."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You remember last Friday night?"

I close my eyes. "Oooh yeah."

Fraser clears his throat, and I know he's blushing all the way down to his toes. "Ihidmineunder neaththebedwhileweweremakinglove."

It takes my sex-slogged mind a few minutes to decipher this into English. "You hid it under the bed?"

"I did."

"You are a bad, bad Mountie, Benton Fraser."

"I know."

"And I love you for it."

"And I love you, Ray. Do you really like it?"

"You kidding? It's great. Though I gotta tell you, the idea of using it makes me feel like I'm cheating on you."

"Ray, that's ridiculous! It's just plastic."

"It's multiple speed too. But it's not you, Ben." An idea strikes me. "Ya know, you could go get yours and we could do it together over the phone."

Fraser makes a pained noise that I recognize from Friday night. "You're trying to drive me crazy, aren't you?"

"I just want you to be happy, Frase."

"And I think the CPD is going to want to know why you placed several 90 minute long-distance phone calls from Milwaukee to your home in Chicago."

"Ninety minutes?"

"When you factor in foreplay, cooling down and at least one more bout besides the original..."

"Jeez, you make us sound like a football team."

"Ray, doing it properly can take hours. Much as I'd like to we simply can't afford it."

"I know."

"Perhaps we can try it when you get home."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." He clears his throat, and his voice drops. "I've often entertained the idea of watching you...pleasure yourself." He's blushing again.

"And you never thought to mention this before now?"

"I didn't know how you'd react, Ray."

Okay, I can see this. I decided, not long after we became lovers, that with the exception of Victoria, Fraser's sex life before me must've been non-existent. Why? Because "everything" we did turned him on. I honestly don't think anyone ever sat him down and explained to him that it's okay to feel good when you come, because for a while there, I honestly thought having an orgasm was painful for him. Only gradually did it dawn on me that he didn't know how it was supposed to feel. He's improved a lot since then, but every so often something weird will come popping out of the recesses of his brain, like now. It makes me wonder how many other fantasies he's got tucked away. "Frase, listen to me. Unless it involves whips, pain or the use of bodily fluids that were never intended to be involved in sex, nothing you might think about would upset me?"

"So you don't think it's wrong that I'd want to watch you touch yourself?"

"Hell no. I wouldn't mind watching you touch yourself." He makes the noise again. "Turns ya on, doesn't it?"

"You have no idea, Ray."

I yawn and check my watch. "Ben, much as I'd like to continue this stimulating conversation, it's after eleven here, and the first workshop tomorrow's at 8 a.m. And I know you gotta be at the Consulate by then."

"True. I love you, Stanley Raymond Kowalski."

"I love you, Benton Robert Fraser. And I gotta tell you, this is the best present anyone has ever given me?"

"It is?"

"Hell ya. Just think of all the things we can try when I get home."

"I shall probably think of little else, Ray. Goodnight."

"Night, Frase." I hang up the phone and look at the vibrator sitting on the table next to the bed. Finally, I reach over and snag it, and pull it off the base. "Ray. I want you to know I miss you terribly and I wish I were there."

"Wish you were here too, Ben." I give it a kiss, put it back on the base, then get up and go to unpack and take a shower.

FIN

End Pillow Talk by MR: psykaos42@yahoo.com

Author and story notes above.