Believe it or not, the idea for this piece and another piece titled "Dead Guy Hiding" (Yeah, a missing scene for the episode 'Dead Guy Running') came to me when I was in the toilet. Serious! Anyway, major spoilers for 'Asylum' and those of you who don't like RayK, you're warned. Personally, I love that guy. <g>

A big thanks to Sama for coming up with the title and Beta reading this thing for me. There's even a line or two in here that belongs to her. Thanks Sama!

Disclaimers: Not mine, no money, don't sue!

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A Matter Of Trust
By Eugenie Chua

When that uniform started shootin', my first thought was "run," then the second thing that popped into my head was "get help," and somehow those two words linked to another two words, "Benton Fraser." I seemed to equate gettin' help with gettin' you. Help = Fraser. So that was what I did; I ran for help, I ran to you.

I guess it was lucky for me that Ice Queen was on vacation, since she would probably kicked me out of the consulate the moment I burst in yelling your name at the top of my lungs.

I can't believe that you actually arrested me after I told you everything! But after the Duckboys showed up at your doorstep, I was actually grateful that you did what you did. If you hadn't arrested me, you would've been obligated to hand me over to them and I'd be dead. Man, never in my life would I imagine that I'd be grateful for being arrested! And being extradited? I never thought that I'd be extradited either! Guess there's a first time for everything.

I got restless after that. I wanted to go out, to do something to help find that guy who framed me. I was never good at waiting or sitting on my butt doin' nothing when there's something for me to do. But you wouldn't let me out, saying that the Duckboys would be waitin' outside, waiting to haul my ass into jail as soon as I stepped out of the consulate. As usual, I knew you were right. I hate it when you're right! I suppose I must really hate you since you're always right. Well, not always, but damn close.

There was nothing much I could do when you went back to the crime scene and got my files other than watch some T.V. Curling, a sport?! How could anyone call curling a sport? It's sweeping, and that's classified under housework, not sports. To think that Turnbull would want to start a fight over it is just...just...just plain silly! As long as he doesn't start insulting baseball.

"But I'm not empty trousers."

What?! What the heck did you mean by "not empty trousers"? Before I could ask, you started stripping, right there in the office, right in front of me and Turnbull. I was shocked. What did you think you were doin'?? When you got my files out of your pants, I finally understood what you said and I was still bewildered! Only you could think of hiding the files in your pants. I don't know what to say, so I dive right into the case.

I was getting worried and restless when you weren't back after I talked to my informant. Something mustta happened to you. I tricked Turnbull into lending me his uniform and while he was stripping his red serge, and boy, did that help ta bring back the moment with you and the pants and the files, except that Turnbull was a little less...open...about taking off his clothes, the Ice Queen called. Not that I'm saying I'm good or anything, but I do have a touch. The Touch. I am good. Anyway, I got into his uniform and snuck out of the consulate...only to end up in a garage with a mobster laughing at me and waiting for the cops to show up.

"I'm not going to jail. The food, the conversation, the sexual hijinks, I can't handle it."

It was lucky that Dief came in time. He might be eating too much junk food, but he got it where it counts. And saving my butt sure counts!

I can't believe we got away! We were just hanging up there on the pillars and I wasn't holding on that well. You told me that you had once hung on like that under a bridge for, how many hours did you say? Anyway, how could you do that when I had trouble just staying up there for a couple of minutes? Sometimes I wonder if you were Superman in your previous life or somethin'.

That stupid dog of yours wouldn't let me out and started barking. Then you showed up. Trust you?! How could I trust anyone when I couldn't even trust myself?!

"You didn't shoot that man."

"How did you know? How did you know? How can you be so sure?" I really wanted to know.

"Because I know you."

Know me? How could you know me when I'm not even me to begin with? What makes you think you know me? What makes you think you know me?! Reading my records? Knowing what I like and dislike? Just what makes you think you know me?!

"You're my partner. You're my friend." You continued.

Am I? Or were you thinking of Vecchio? Or perhaps you're just saying that so I'd let you do whatever you were planning? I noticed it you know. You always get what you want. I mean if you wanna do somethin' and Welsh or Ice Queen said 'no', you'd somehow persuade them into lettin' you do it. You always get what you want. Is this one of your tricks again? But when I looked into your eyes, I realized that you meant what you said.

"Is that hard to say?" I asked.

"Not in the least." You replied.

Then why hadn't you said it before? I couldn't help wondering.

"Gonna call your dog off?" I tried again.

"'Fraid I can't do that,"

Oh well, I already knew you'd say that.

"Come on, let's go watch some Curling."

Okay, Curling is still more housework than sports to me, but I really had nothing better to do at that time.

The Canadian gun law thing you pulled was brilliant. I would have laughed out loud at the looks on their faces if it wasn't my butt on the line. How did you think up all this stuff anyway? And the look on Cahill's face when you were counting down, while he was the one with the gun pointing at Ice Queen, was priceless! Made me wish I had a camera right then. Ice Queen wasn't all that bad either, though I still wonder why she didn't responded the way she did on the phone when I said my name. Losing my touch? No way!!

The End.

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