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Author's Notes: This is my response to the livejournal ds_flashfiction Make-Up Challenge, which was: "Making up in the sense of reconciliation, as Callie suggested; making-up in the sense of cosmetics, cosmetic alteration, or make-up as part of the plot--(lipstick stains, anyone?); or making up in the sense of fabricating/ lying/ making something up, as Beth H suggested. Feel free to be creative and to do more than one.

Story Notes:

Ray leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms, scowling as Fraser sat in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on eyeliner and humming. "You're just doing that to annoy me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ray." Fraser leaned in to examine his eyes closely. Pleased with the result, he reached for the mascara, and began humming again.

Ray straightened up, eyes wide. "I'm not! You are too doing it to piss me off!"

"Language, Ray," Fraser murmured, intent on his eyelashes.

"Language my ass! Look, Frase, I been working with for years now, right? I've seen you shoot a gun, and track a perp, and, and. . .heal the lame, whatever! But what I haven't seen you do is hum! You don't hum, Frase."

"Don't I?"

"You know damn well you don't! And I want you to stop it! It's creepy, it's weird, it's not you."

Fraser stared at Ray's reflection in the mirror, eyes expressionless. "Apparently, many of the things I do are 'not me' as well, Ray."

Ray sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Fraser was going to bust his balls about this, he should have known it, should have known Fraser wouldn't let it slide. "This is about the Dewey thing, isn't it? You're still mad."

Fraser raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Do I look as if I'm mad, Ray?"

"Of course you don't! You never look mad, but that doesn't mean you aren't mad. You're probably all seething and bubbly inside, like some Mountie volcano."

Ray saw Fraser mouth the words 'Mountie volcano' to himself before he turned away and started rooting through his make-up bag for lipstick.

Ray took a step forward, suddenly feeling queasy and sick, his guts in a knot. He put his hands on Fraser's shoulders. "Ben?" he said, cringing inside at the sound of his voice, all wobbly and pathetic, just like the last worst days with Stella. "I had to, don't you understand?"

"What I understand," Fraser said, twitching his shoulders so that Ray's hands fell off, "is that you lied to Detective Dewey. You were ashamed of me, of the way I was, and felt compelled to make up some ridiculous story. You were afraid to let him know the truth of us."

Ray almost laughed, he felt so giddy with relief, because this was not like Stella at all, Fraser was nothing like Stella. Stella was all cold silences and 'If you loved me, you'd already know', and Fraser, well, the one sure thing about Fraser was that you couldn't shut him up for long. Ray should have known.

Ray pulled Fraser out of the chair, spun him around, and gave him a quick kiss on the nose. "Frase, you freak. Do I got to remind you, you were wearing a dress and full make-up at the time? In a bar?"

Fraser crossed his arms and looked stern. "That is my point exactly, Ray. We were discovered, and yet you chose to deny--"

Ray silenced him with a hand over his mouth. "It's not like that. You and me, what we got is special, private, something just for you and me, right? So if Dewey knows, than I got to know that he knows, and that he's thinking about us, and the kind of things he'd think about us, well, I just don't want to think about. Because he's a pig and kind of sleazy, you know? And we're not. We're beautiful, Ben, not sleazy."

Fraser's eyes were shinning as he leaned in and kissed Ray, slowly, gently, reverently. "You're quite right, Ray. We are beautiful."

"Yeah." Ray ducked his head and smiled. "I just wanted it private." He tilted his head and looked up at Fraser. "We're good, right? So no more humming?"

Fraser widened his eyes and looked impossibly innocent. "But I like humming, Ray."

Ray threw up his hands. "Fine, whatever! Hum all you want! Be your own Tabernacle! But 'West Side Story'? 'I Feel Pretty'?" Ray put his hands on his waist, canted his hips, and said in his campiest voice, "Really, Fraser darling! How cliche!"

Fraser laughed so hard he choked and spat, and he grabbed for Ray, and even though the kiss tasted salty and bitter and left a really odd stain on his favorite shirt, Ray always remembered it as the best kiss he ever had.

End I Only Have Eyes For You by Doll: space___monkey___@hotmail.com

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