Title: Contact

Author: necessary angel

Pairing: BF/RK

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Alliance owns these guys and much as I want them set free <g>, it hasn't happened yet.

Spoilers: Minor ones for "Odds" and a blink and you'll miss it reference to "Asylum".

Thanks to Kasha for inspiration & beta reading and to Megan for her editing wand <g>.

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Contact by necessary angel

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The effect of the hot water on his aching back was already beginning to wear off, and he was barely dry. Fraser winced and groaned. It was tempting to get back into the shower and stay there. He shook his head and wrapped the towel around his hips. Ray still had to take a shower and he, himself, was so tired he would probably drown if he gave way to his instincts.

Yes, he was tired, and a little...punchy. Funny how his thoughts sounded like Ray, on occasion.

"Fraze, you drowning yourself in there?"

Ray's voice pulled Fraser back to himself and he smiled instead of laughing. Ray's words were coincidental, but Fraser was sure it was only his present fatigue that made him want to giggle at them.

"Of course not, Ray. I'll be out in a moment."

*************

Ray was sprawled on the couch when Fraser eased himself cautiously into the living room. Dressing, even in sweatpants and a T-shirt, had been an exhausting process.

"Man, that shower did you no good at all."

Ray squinted up at him and sat up. His face was showing the same edge of concern that it had been wearing for almost the last forty-eight hours.

"On the contrary."

Fraser eyed the chair, wondering whether it was worth sitting down. Sitting down at the 27^th Precinct and playing poker, even for the short time for which they had indulged themselves, had proved injurious to his back.

Not that Fraser would exchange that quiet, easy time for anything.

Except perhaps... lately, he was sure he wasn't alone in thinking.... Fraser shook himself; they were still walking the thin line that marked them as partners, as friends, and until one of them stepped over....

"So, why do you look like you got hit by a tank, huh?" Ray was on his feet, moving with much more ease than was possible for Fraser at the present time.

"I..."

Fraser was no more able to summon a truthful rebuttal to that somewhat colorful statement than he had been able to find a reason to refuse Ray's invitation to "sleep in a decent bed for once." He hadn't been looking forward to finding a passably comfortable way to spend the night in his office.

"C'mon." Ray's hand was on his arm and he was urging him in the direction of the bedroom.

"What? I can find my own..." Fraser cleared his throat. Having Ray escort him to the bedroom seemed far more intimate than the idea of sleeping in there, or using his partner's shampoo and soap.

"I know, I know. I just thought you might appreciate it if I gave that back of yours the once over." Ray's hand dropped away and he was biting his lower lip.

"I'm sorry... I don't understand." Fraser shook his head. He hadn't realized he was quite this tired. Everything was taking more effort, even staying on his feet, let alone following the sometimes wild leaps of Ray's conversation.

Ray took a deep breath and grinned. "Okay, let's try again. Your back is still in bad shape, right? I just thought a back rub might help."

"Yes, yes it would." Fraser sighed. "It would. I am just a little..."

"Out of it."

"Well, I was going to say tired."

"Not fatigued?" Ray winked at him and nodded towards the bedroom.

"Exhausted, perhaps." Fraser allowed himself the smile.

"Tired."

"As I said."

They were in Ray's bedroom now. It was tidier than Fraser had expected. The bed seemed to dominate the room, but Fraser half suspected that it seemed that way because it was all he was focusing on. It was odd how tiredness altered one's perspective....

"Okay, get that T-shirt off and settle yourself. I'll just be a sec."

Fraser kept his attention firmly focused on following Ray's instructions. It was even more of a struggle to remove his T-shirt than it had been to put it on, but he finally managed.

This was no different from him caring for the minor wounds Ray had acquired at one point or another.

No, not different at all.

The lupine smirk that Dief would have worn if that thought had been voiced in his sight flashed through Fraser's mind. He cracked his neck and, hearing Ray's returning footsteps, lay down on the bed.

"This should do the trick."

Fraser turned his head as the mattress gave slightly under Ray's weight. "What should?"

"Um... aroma whatsit oil." Ray paused and rubbed some oil onto his hands. "It's got lots of stuff in it that helps with stiff muscles and bruising and all that." He smirked. "And it smells way better than your pregnant whatever preparation."

"Indeed." Fraser pulled in a deep breath. "Lemon oil, lavender, juniper and clove. I think that's it."

"I suppose I should be thankful you didn't want to taste it." Ray sounded amused.

Fraser closed his eyes and took another deep breath, this one to hide his reaction at the thought of tasting Ray's fingers.

"It is not a good idea to ingest essential oils." He kept his eyes closed; it seemed safer somehow.

"I knew that...said I should be thankful, didn't I?"

The mixture of humor and exasperation in Ray's voice was familiar and safe. Fraser felt the mattress shift again and Ray's hands were on his back. His hands were strong and firm, his touch very assured. He obviously knew exactly what he was doing. Fraser should have been accustomed to surprises from this man. Well, not accustomed, exactly... you couldn't get used to surprises, that was the whole point.

"This okay?" Ray's voice was quiet, and the question was just the distraction Fraser needed.

"Mmm."

It was more than okay. It was just right, not too much oil, exactly the right amount of pressure and best of all it wasn't part of a strategy. Not part of a game plan. Denny Scarpa's hands had felt good, very good. Fraser had enjoyed the sureness of her touch. It had, of course, been necessary to fall in with her play, but it had left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Let me know if it becomes painful. It shouldn't hurt, well not really hurt, anyway."

Ray sounded a little breathless, but Fraser was feeling too indolent to open his eyes and check on his partner. The tension and ache that seemed to have been there for days had left his shoulders, and Fraser would be prepared to swear that even his bones were becoming malleable.

"Feels really good. Mmm. Very good."

Fraser knew he should feel embarrassed at the ... purring note his voice had taken on, but he really couldn't summon up the energy or the will to care. Ray had seen more of him than most people ever did from the word go; this wouldn't matter at all.

"Where did you learn to do this?" Fraser found a question from the remnants of his brain.

"Uh, married life teaches you a few tricks, Fraze." Ray sounded far too casual.

"I see."

Ray was very definitely declaring the subject off limits. That was a little odd. At any other time, Fraser might have pursued the matter, but he was tired and this felt far too good. It would keep, for the moment.

Ray had moved down to the problem area of his back; his touch was more cautious now, and Fraser could swear his fingers were trembling slightly. Fraser moved his head so that he could see Ray's face. His forehead was wrinkled with concentration, but that was to be expected. Reassured, Fraser closed his eyes again and drifted back into the feeling of Ray's strong clever fingers working the residual stiffness from his back.

Ray's bed was very comfortable, the mattress wide and firm. The sheet underneath Fraser's right cheek was cotton, smooth, and a good thread count as best as he could judge. It smelt of laundry detergent, and while Fraser had been expecting that, he couldn't quite smother the sense of disappointment.

Fraser let his sigh out as a groan. He was as utterly shameless as Diefenbaker had become. Only it wasn't baked goods that had unearthed this aspect of his personality. It would be far simpler if that were the case. This wasn't helping, he was far too tired and his partner far too quick for him to risk thinking.... Fraser switched to counting his breathing and finally his unruly thoughts became a background thrum.

Ray was singing under his breath as he worked on the injured area of Fraser's back. Fraser fixed his attention on the phrase Ray was repeating, and gradually the sound became fainter and fainter. He was warm and this was....

"Night, Fraze."

Ray had stopped touching him. Fraser wanted to protest but sleep pulled him under before he could force the words out.

End