Author's disclaimer: All Due South characters and concepts belong to Alliance Communications. No infringement is intended and no profit is made. This is for the mutual enjoyment of the fans only.

Turnbull's Turn
By Courser

Rating: R/NC-17 Maybe
Pairing: Turnbull/Frannie

Spoilers: Mountie Sings the Blues (slight)

Someone, I can't remember who, issued a Turnbull/Frannie challenge. Here's my response since the more I thought about it the more I got into it. Have fun! I sure did.

***

Frannie looked across the table at the handsome man in red. Never, in her life, had someone gone to so much trouble to please her. The lunch was delicious, the sauce seasoned perfectly. Her eyes drifted to the table linen, flowers and cutlery. No one had ever served to her so elegantly! She could feel the jealous stares from the other women in the station on her shoulder blades. If looks could kill, she'd be a cinder. When Constable Turnbull had asked her to have lunch with him, she'd been tempted. He is attractive after all, but with so much to do at work, she didn't think she could spare the time. She imagined him showing up with a couple of hot dogs in a bag with some sodas but he'd taken her completely by surprise.

Frannie thought for moment about Constable Fraser. She'd tried for over two years to get his attention, but he'd stubbornly ignored her advances. 'C'mon,' she thought, 'no one's that naive, not even him.' Turnbull, she'd have to ask his first name, didn't seem to have the same problem. He was happily engaging her in conversation about some country singer guy, Wailin', Willie, Walter..., whatever, it didn't matter much when she had the attention of a handsome man. It did mean, however, that she was going to win that bet with Detectives Huey and Dewey.

While Constable Turnbull expounded upon the virtues of county music, Francesca pondered the possibilities. Turnbull was, after all, a Mountie and apparently possessed of a number of previously unknown talents. Not only could he cook, but he certainly knew how to sweep a girl off her feet. Frannie focused on his hands as he illustrated a point. They were large, with long tapered fingers. 'I wonder what else he's got that's long and tapered' she thought, stifling a snicker. Nice as the uniform was, the tunic covered most everything of interest, front and rear.

Turnbull fixed his gaze on Frannie, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Miss Vecchio, is everything to your liking? I'm afraid I might have used just a touch too much garlic..."

"No, no, uh, Turnbull, I love garlic, it's perfect. I am Italian, after all, you know and there's no such thing as too much. Garlic, that is." She stammered.

"My thoughts exactly Miss Vecchio," he beamed.

"Please, call me Francesca,"

"Of course, Francesca. What a beautiful name. You also may call me by my given name, Renfield," he offered, in a hushed voice.

"Oh, Renfield...what a, well, unusual name," Frannie said, though she was trying to remember where she'd heard the name before. After a few moments it came to her: 'Oh yeah, Dracula's sidekick that ate bugs', she recalled and suppressed a shudder of disgust.

In spite of his name and its associations, Frannie decided she could get used to this. A man who actually listened to her, cared what she liked and what she thought. As Turnbull nattered on about the romantic qualities of county music, Frannie decided that she really ought to get a better look at Renfield Turnbull before dismissing him out of hand.

All too soon, lunch was finished and Frannie was desperately trying to find a way to get him alone for a few minutes. If she could just lure him into the closet...

"Uh, Renfield, do you think you could help me with something?"

"If it's within my abilities, I would be happy to assist you," the hapless young Constable answered enthusiastically.

Frannie led him to the storage closet and, checking to see that they were unobserved, opened the door, walked inside and switched on the light, Renfield close on her heels.

"Uh, there's a box up on the top shelf. Do you think you can reach it?" she asked casually, closing the door behind them.

Turnbull turned his attention to the topmost shelves in the closet, only to be immediately plunged into complete darkness. In that moment, he knew the fear of the field mouse just before it's snatched from the earth by the owl's talons. The sickening, soaring feeling that might be exhilarating if it weren't for the fact that you are about to be eaten.

Now, while Constable Turnbull's intellect had been compared to a block of swiss cheese, he was not necessarily a stupid man. At least not when it came to the wiles of the opposite sex. He could feel Francesca closing on him and while he was most certainly attracted to her, he had hoped for a much more dignified setting in which to demonstrate that attraction. Turnbull had long admired her from afar, even though Constable Fraser had been the focus of Francesca's attentions. Turnbull chastised himself for not detecting her intent sooner.

Frannie closed in on the tall, slender Mountie, her hands brushing over the heavy wool fabric of the scarlet tunic. She caressed the slender waist, Renfield biting his lip to remain silent, then brought her hands together at the small of his back before smoothing them up his spine to rest on his shoulders. Turnbull held himself rigid at her touch, knowing that something else would soon be rigid at this rate. He felt weak when she massaged his taut muscles with her gentle hands, offering little resistance as she turned him around to face her. Just enough light crept under the door for Renfield to make out the planes of her face, the shadows of her eyes. He hoped she wasn't able to see the abject fear and desperate longing in his own face.

Frannie closed the gap between them as she attempted to release his belt. Unsuccessful, she satisfied herself with unfastening several of the gold buttons that glittered in the darkness, snaking one hand into his tunic to stroke Renfield's chest through his thin undershirt as the other caressed his face.

Without conscious thought, his arms enfolded her as he turned his face into her palm, showering it with kisses. He was rewarded with her small gasp of pleasure and his body responded instantly, his flesh growing hard between them. Finally Renfield lowered is head and kissed Francesca, his hand cradling the back of her head. Emboldened, he quickly deepened the kiss, plundering her soft mouth as she returned his ardor. She was so hot and sweet, he couldn't help but trace her contours with his hands, lingering over the swell of her breasts.

Frannie knew she should object, but found she didn't care. This had already progressed further than she'd intended, but she still hadn't satisfied her curiosity. She had to know just what this Mountie was made of. Slowly, she brushed her hands down Renfield's chest, freeing buttons along the way, until she reached the fly of his uniform trousers. Renfield's hands had found their way under Francesca's blouse, his thumbs stroking her hardened nipples through the delicate lace of her bra. Francesca was momentarily distracted from her goal, barely containing her moans, her breath quickening. She'd been taken completely by surprise, never suspecting that beneath the simple exterior beat the heart of a passionate lover.

Regaining some semblance of reason, Frannie slowly worked the zipper down, and down, and down, the trousers held in place by the braces. Sliding her tongue into Renfield's mouth, over his teeth, she eased her hand into his pants. Her eyes flew open at her discovery, while he moaned loudly and pushed into her hand.

"Oh Francesca, you feel so good." He gasped.

"Hmm, Renfield," she purred, hand still busy. "I can't wait to get you someplace more...private."

She'd never known a man so well endowed. While not so oversized as to cause discomfort, he was considerably larger than average. As much as she wanted to reach inside his boxers, she persuaded herself to leave something for later, and started to pull away slowly. Renfield took her cue and pulled away as well.

"Great Scott!" Looking down at the disarray of his uniform, he removed his hands from Frannie's breasts and quickly zipped and buttoned himself to some semblance of order.

"Francesca, please accept my deepest apologies. I don't know what came over me."

"I do, Renfield. It's called lust. Could we, uh, continue this later? I've got to get back to work."

"You mean you're not offended?" Renfield asked, incredulous.

"Offended? Hell no, it's the best compliment I've gotten in forever." She leaned in conspiratorially, "You do know what to do with that, don't you?" indicating his fly.

Renfield blushed a most attractive shade of pink, "Yes, I believe I do, Francesca. Perhaps I could, well, give you a demonstration this evening?"

"Oh, definitely, Renfield. Meet me here when my shift is over?"

"My pleasure, Francesca. Until then." He kissed her goodbye before leaving the closet.

Frannie remained for a few moments, so they wouldn't be seen leaving together. She was going to have a devil of a time concentrating this afternoon.

Frannie found herself unable to concentrate all afternoon. After all, she hadn't had a date in, well, at least since Fraser came to town and that was almost three years ago. Her mind kept drifting to all the possible scenarios involving Renfield Turnbull. Should she be worldly and experienced, dealing with an inexperienced amour? Or should she play it coy, letting him make all the moves in his own time? Did they have that much time and could she wait that long? Then she remembered that they both had to attend that country singer's concert tonight. Damn! Well, that wasn't until 8:30, so if they played their cards right, there would be plenty of time to play if they didn't take time for dinner. To call Frannie horny was a little like calling a jalapeno spicy; a bit of an understatement.

For Renfield the problem was similar, but fundamentally different. His erection had refused to subside, though it was more an annoyance than a serious problem. The uniform hid it, especially if he was seated. If it weren't for his meeting with Francesca, he'd merely take himself into the restroom and resolve it. To make matters worse, Tracy spent part of the afternoon at the Consulate. Her presence made him giddy and his cock throbbed and tingled maddeningly. It had been a full four years since he'd had a woman and he barely remembered that, due to a head injury he'd received after leaving her. It seems the woman's ex-boyfriend hadn't seen the humor in the situation.

Inspector Thatcher interrupted his musings with her demand for the evening's transportation arrangements. Fortunately, her intimidating presence made his penis wilt a bit. Turnbull wondered how Fraser coped with that element of her personality. She seemed to have the opposite effect on him and manys the time he'd noticed Constable Fraser retiring to his quarters after receiving a particularly harsh dressing down. He'd always thought that Fraser was taking the time to compose himself until the Inspector had once sent him to get Fraser again. Standing at the door, he'd heard a peculiar sort of moaning whimper through the door and immediately discarded the notion that Fraser was merely having a good cry over it. Even Renfield wasn't that naive. Embarrassed, he'd listened until he heard a telltale groan, then crept away and stomped back to the door. He figured he probably wasn't fooling Fraser with the ruse, but it allowed them both the illusion of ignorance. From that day forward, Turnbull steered clear of Constable Fraser's office for at least an hour after any dressing down.

The Inspector left him presently and Turnbull's flesh rebounded quickly. He remembered the way Francesca's small, hot hand had caressed him through his shorts. He'd wanted her to slide her hand inside them as well, but she'd pulled away too soon for that. Probably just as well, Renfield wasn't entirely sure he'd have been able to stop if she'd done that. Now he couldn't wait to get her to his apartment. It seemed she'd forgotten about the concert they were both to attend, but he was hopeful that Francesca was as eager as he was to satisfy her curiosity.

The minute hand finally pointed at twelve, straight up and Frannie was up from her chair and out the door as if jet-propelled. The last half-hour had been pure torture as she'd fantasized about Renfield. Her panties were soaked and she was dying to get them off.

Turnbull had called a cab, not wanting to waste a precious moment waiting on public transportation. As Francesca left the station, he called and waived at her and she scurried to the waiting taxi. Renfield took her hand in his.

"Francesca, did you remember that we need to attend Tracy's concert tonight?" He asked, torn between his devotion to the country singer and the woman next to him.

"Uh, yeah, I remember. But we don't have to be there till 8:30, right?"

"That is correct. I've directed the driver to take us to my apartment, but if you prefer, we can stop for a bite to eat." 'Oh, please, no', he thought.

"No, Renfield, lunch was wonderful. Let's just go to your apartment." Frannie answered, practically breathless.

The driver had watched the couple in the back. The level of sexual tension was so thick he could have cut it with a knife. They weren't pawing each other the way some couples do, but it was present nonetheless, their eyes locked together. He gave the car a little more gas, afraid that if the journey took too long they'd simply combust.

Shortly they arrived at a run-down apartment building. Frannie wondered if Mounties ever lived anywhere else. First Fraser's tenement and now Renfield's.

Turbull paid the driver and with his hand at the small of her back, guided Frannie into the crumbling structure and through to the very back of the building. When he opened the door, she knew why Fraser had referred to it as a cardboard box. The walls were the same nondescript brown and she found herself wondering whether it was the paint or plain dinginess. To call his living space small would be generous. It was truly not much larger than an oversize refrigerator carton, but very neat and tidy. A small cot was placed against one wall with a short counter and tiny sink across from it. A miniscule alcove on the same wall served as a closet. . His footlocker took up the space along the third wall with a reading lamp upon it.

Francesca wasn't allowed any more time to scrutinize the room. Renfield turned to her and took her into his arms, kissing her with the force of all his pent-up emotion. Frannie was surprised and pleased with this side of him. His lips moved against hers enticingly, pleading for entry to her mouth and she parted her lips on a moan. Renfield gently stroked her lips before venturing inside and she took him lightly between her teeth. He groaned and dropped his hands to her rear, pulling her to him as he pushed his groin against her stomach. She could feel his hardness even through his uniform and this made her even hotter, a maddening tingle beginning somewhere between her legs.

Turnbull regretfully broke away from her mouth and dropped his head to suckle her neck. The effect on her was electric, like nothing she'd ever felt before as she arched against him and cried out, her nipples hardening instantly and the tingle turned into a pulse. As if he read her mind, he brought one hand to a breast and brushed the hardened nub through her blouse as he alternated between sucking and biting her neck. Frannie felt her knees start to buckle and she whimpered and rocked against him. Finally, unable to take anymore, she pulled slightly away and set to unbuttoning the red tunic while Turnbull took the clue and unfastened his belt. Between them he was stripped to his shorts in no time, uniform pieces flung impatiently away. Renfield began unbuttoning her blouse while she shed her pantyhose in one smooth movement. It might have been more romantic done slowly, Frannie thought, but there was something to be said for quick and dirty.

Turnbull was surprised at just how short Francesca was without her shoes. He spared a glance at his narrow cot as he unfastened her bra and decided that it just wouldn't do. They stopped for a moment and simply looked at each other. Frannie reached out and massaged his chest with both of her hands, enjoying the feel of his collarbone and pectoral muscles. She glanced down and saw his erection tenting his boxers. Still she made herself hold back.

"Francesca...you're...perfect." Renfield said, something akin to awe in his voice, his hands drifting to her gently rounded breasts.

He caressed them gently, around the sides and underneath, supporting them on his fingers before reverently stroking her nipples. Frannie'd always had very sensitive breasts and so many men had treated them harshly, squeezing and pinching them. Not Renfield though. His every touch was heaven.

"You're not so bad yourself, Renfield"

Gently, he turned her away from him, skimming his hands over her shoulders and arms, his fingers exploring as he dropped his head and kissed the back of her neck, his tongue circling behind her ear and down her neck. Francesca leaned back against him, feeling him hot and hard against her back. She extended her arms behind her and grasped his buttocks and pulled him against her, a low moan escaping him. Turning around, Francesca first stroked his back as he leaned down and resumed kissing her. His mouth was more demanding now, his tongue thrusting against hers. She sucked on it as she worked her hands underneath his boxers, sliding them down his hips and off. Nothing in her way now, she first found the soft sac between his legs and stroked it gently. Renfield practically yelled at the sensation and he became harder still. Frannie finally took him into her hand, amazed again at his size. She broke off the kiss to look at him. He was magnificent, his long uncut length rising from a thatch of cinnamon curls. Fascinated she stroked him until he took her hand in his. When she tried to take him into her mouth, he stopped her.

"Not this time, my beauty." Renfield said breathlessly, "time enough for that later."

He backed her up a step and effortlessly lifted her until she was seated on the counter, his hand snaking between her legs. Gently, he parted her and found her fully aroused, hot, wet and soft. Her scent engulfed him and he bit his lip for control as he fondled her center with his long slender fingers.

"Oh, god, Renfield, please, I need you." She whimpered.

"Not quite yet, I think. I'm afraid I may not have much control, Francesca and I want to be sure you're...satisfied." He told her, his mouth covering hers again.

He kissed her again deeply, his hand between her legs mimicking the movements of his mouth. She began moaning loudly and he felt her body tense in preparation for her release. He pulled away from her mouth and dropping his head, suckled a nipple. Francesca's response was explosive as she came, moving against his hand, crying out loudly.

"Now, please, Renfield!"

Reaching over and opening a drawer, he extracted a condom, looked closely at it for the expiration date, the ripped open the package and rolled it on.

"Yes Francesca, now." He gasped, gently easing himself inside her with small movements.

It didn't seem possible, but she came again almost instantly, Renfield practically lost in the feel of her contracting around him. Throwing his head back and taking a deep breath, he waited for her to return.

"Oh, god, that's so good." She murmured as he began to move inside her in earnest, his strokes long and slow.

"Oh, yes, Francesca, umm, you're so...hot," he moaned, knowing that he sounded foolish. He didn't care.

She leaned back against the wall, the better to watch Renfield's face as he made love to her. He was quite responsive, an even greater variety of sounds coming from him as she angled her hips to increase the friction between them. While she'd done it to increase his pleasure, she found that it had the same effect on her as well and she tightened her pelvic muscles.

Renfield immediately began thrusting harder and deeper, his hands going to her breasts again and caressing them. The additional stimulation was all that was required to send Francesca over the edge again and she shuddered once more with the force of her release. Renfield was unable to hold back any longer and his thrusts became uneven and less coordinated. Francesca recovered sufficiently to watch his face as he came, her legs around his waist holding him tightly as he leaned over her, panting and groaning.

They both shuddered through the aftershocks, Renfield still buried deep within her. Tenderly he lifted her head with a finger on her chin and he kissed her slowly, sensually while she took his lower lip between her teeth.

"I guess you do know what to do with that, Renfield" Frannie teased.

"You are ample inspiration, Francesca, my sweet," he purred, as he pulled out and disposed of the condom.

Frannie couldn't help notice that he was still quite erect.

"Umm, you're still, uh... Are you okay?" she asked.

Renfield colored a little, "Oh, yes, I've always been like this...," he motioned at his penis, not meeting her eyes.

Frannie reached out and touched his cheek, kissing him as he met her eyes, her hand moving to touch and stroke him once again.

"You think this is a problem?" she asked giggling a little.

Renfield nodded his head, looking shy in an entirely irresistible way as he helped her off the counter. Francesca put her arms around him, stroking his back as she rubbed her stomach against him, finally taking a hard male nipple into her mouth, worrying at it with her tongue and teeth.

"Ahhh, oh! Dear!" he gasped as he pressed even harder into her.

Frannie knelt down and took in the lovely sight of Renfield's aroused penis. She'd never seen an uncircumcised one before and it fascinated her. She extended her tongue and licked at the head, rough moans escaping Renfield above her.

"Francesca, you don't have to do this," he protested.

"I know, now just relax and enjoy," she said as he slid the head between her lips.

Renfield was the one to whimper now as she licked and sucked at him, her enthusiasm for the activity blatantly showing. It was impossible for her to take all of him in, but she compensated as best she could.

"Oh my god, please Francesca, oh, don't stop," he moaned, looking down on her from above, stimulated by the sight of her taking him in.

Only a few minutes later though, he pulled away from her and turning, helped her sit on the edge of his cot. Kneeling in front of her, he encouraged her to spread her legs. Beginning at her knees, he kissed and licked his way to her sex and began to feast on her, her juices flowing freely, some small part of Francesca's mind was surprised at Renfield's expertise. She'd never expected him to be so accomplished. It wasn't long before Frannie climaxed yet again under the charms of his mouth and hands. As soon as she'd sufficiently recovered, Renfield sat next to her on the cot and guided her to straddle him. Frannie looked frantically around for her purse, found it at the foot of the cot, rummaged in it and came up with a condom.

Renfield looked closely at it. It was exactly like the one he'd used before.

"Ah, I see we both have good taste. But how did you know about the size?"

Frannie opened the Lucky13, size large.

"Wishful thinking, I guess. Uh, you don't mind going again, do you?" She asked as she put it on him.

"Oh, no. I assumed it would be you who'd had enough." He admitted shyly.

"Me? Enough? Never!" Frannie laughed, as she mounted her Mountie.

This time it was Renfield's turn to lean back and enjoy the show. He tried to relax as Frannie moved over him, sliding maddeningly forward and back. With his hands free, they roamed over her body, caressing her breasts, rolling her nipples, finally resting on her undulating hips. He glanced down and seeing their flesh joined, brought one hand around, his thumb finding, then brushing against her sensitized center. The effect on Francesca was profound. She arched her back, crying out sharply as she began to ride him more forcefully, her pace quickening. Renfield smiled at his effect on her and continued, her intense pleasure echoing through him.

"Oh, Francesca, you're so beautiful like this, god, yes, perfect," he rasped, his own release near.

He felt her tighten around him as she took him hard and deep, moaning loudly on each downstroke. He had thought to turn them over quickly, but his own release was already near and he stopped her motion with a hand on her hip as he spilled into her. Francesca was unable to hold completely still and she rocked on him as his climax subsided, then collapsed against his chest.

The lovers dozed briefly in each other's arms, the day's tension finally drained away. Francesca's eyes opened and the first thing she saw was Renfield's clock. Items two and three dawned on her simultaneously. He was either still erect, or erect again, she didn't know which, but she was delighted in any case and the clock read 7:45.

"Renfield, it's a quarter to eight, we'd better get ready," she told him, holding the base of the condom as she dismounted.

"Ah, yes, I suppose we should, we can't miss Tracy's concert."

Francesca looked longingly at him and still-erect member.

"Um, I don't suppose...," she started with a glint in her eye.

"Francesca, I'm afraid of doing you harm. It will subside when I get dressed." Renfield couldn't imagine she'd be ready for another round.

"You won't hurt me, just a quick one...here, how about this," she climbed up on his footlocker and bending over, faced the wall.

Renfield wasn't entirely sure what to make of her position, but applied yet another Lucky13 and found that by standing on his footlocker, Francesca was at the perfect height for him.

"Come on, Renfield, don't be shy," she said, lifting one leg to ease his entry, then dropping it again, her legs held tightly together.

This was something he'd never felt before. She was so incredibly tight, he was afraid to move for fear of hurting her. He needn't have worried. Stars bloomed behind his eyes as Frannie began to move on him until he got the idea. "Oh god, oh...god, ah...," he murmured as he grabbed her hips and began to pump quickly into her.

Control swiftly slithered out of his grasp as he was overcome by the sweet, snug feel of Francesca around him, pulling at him. His focus contracted to a pinpoint, his universe consisting only of the point where they were joined. His voice a rusty rasp, he came loudly, sweating and gasping for air. After a moment, his head still spinning, he moved away from her and stripped off the condom.

It took a little time for them to dress, both of them moving slowly, their limbs sluggish from the activity. By the time they were done, it was 8:15, just enough time to get to the theatre. As they left his apartment, Renfield locking the door, behind them, Francesca cleared her throat.

"Do you think, well, would you like me to come back with you...after, you know?" she asked nervously.

"Oh yes, Francesca, that would be wonderful. I hope you don't find me too...tiring." He answered.

"Yeah, right, Renfield. I think not."