SEALING WAX...

By Timbeastie Graduc

Dedicated to Peppermint Patti, and all at AOL Saturday Chats

Ghost of a Feline

Dief groaned petulantly into his breakfast. <Dammit! Grrr> It was bad enough the mountie had taken unscheduled vacation but Dief was faced with a wacking cut in his extracurricular calories to say nothing of a severe cramp in his love life. His packmate was sure acting bizzare lately! He seemed to have developed an insatiable desire for Dief's company, and as for the lamps - the apartment hadn't been this lit up since *that woman*.

Still..Dief snickered to himself, there were ways and means of subtle revenge - take last Tuesday night for example...A cold wolf nose when least expecting...followed by the <what did I do?> whine, <innocent ol' me> eyes. No need to leap into the kitchen sink surely. Benton was rapidly becoming one heck of a nervous wreck.

Bad Kitty's spectre lay curled at the foot of the Mountie's bed licking her paws fastidiously. Fraser had risen 20 minutes earlier to feed Dief then burrowed under cover drawing his heavy winter duvet well over his head.

Dief gave a final thorough lick of his bowl and contemplated Fraser's nemesis who ignored him completely. Not that Dief had any notion of interfering - this feline's feud was strictly with the Mountie. Dief yawned widely and padded to his sleeping cushion. At least he could grab some extra shut eye.

Kitty had finished her ablutions and decided it was time to refresh the constable's memory of past misdeeds. She was certainly having the time of her death here. As she got to the mound that covered Fraser's head she thrust her face through the cover and meowed loudly in his ear.

Fraser shot out of the bed and made for Dief's side. For some happy reason the cat's spirit didn't seem keen on getting too near his wolf. He sat huddled in his longjohns by Dief's side trying to ignore his companion's pitying sniggers.

From this new perspective Fraser suddenly caught sight of Constable Turnbull's still wrapped Xmas presents currently gathering dust beside his closet. He considered them for a full 5 seconds before succumbing to a virtual frenzy of paper shredding. He knew full well the contents - Lord Newt Moose Beer from Turnbull's second cousin's brewery in Inuvik.

Real Bonnie Singer?

"Wrap me in your duvet darlin' when I go

You stitched and stuffed with loving care

'Gainst winter winds and snow.."

[ Note: Pat I due *know* it's dreadful...it's meant to be ;)) ]

A loud tapping on the door interrupted the singing Mountie. He paused and looked bemused at the half-full tankard in his hand as if the fizzing brew had somehow altered its sound properties.

Mr Mustafi suddenly appeared at his elbow.

"Constable Fraser, I am sorry for barging in like this but I was most concerned."

In his hands his neighbour carried a miscellany of first aid items.

"Do not worry. I have contacted my friend Dr Waddle who is a veterinarian. He will be here directly. I am sure he will be able to help your poor Diefenbaker. In the meantime perhaps I may be able to assist..." he continued holding up an assortment of bandages.

Mr Mustafi patted Fraser's arm reassuringly and peered round the apartment searching for the dreadfully injured wolf.

"Diefn'..Diefenb'..Hunh?" The Mountie looked confused.

Diefenbaker rose and bounded over, the picture of lupine health.

Mr Mustafi looked considerably perplexed.

"I am sorry but from the noise I was certain that something truly awful had happened to your wolf. Perhaps you have another animal here...?"

The sense of what his neighbour was trying to say finally percolated through the Mountie's alcoholic haze.

"I was singin'." said Fraser in rather miffed and squiffy tones.

Mr Mustafi's eyebrows met his hairline.

"Singing? Ah. Well. I am sure that if you practice...or rather....Perhaps I could give you the number of Miss Sonatra. She has an excellent reputation as a singing tutor with a fine suite of rooms, fully soundproofed."

This sage advice did not appear to be appreciated - in the least.

"Well I had better go and cancel Dr Waddle." Mr Mustafi glanced meaningfully at the eight empty bottles of beer neatly set out in the shape of a maple leaf, then turned to the 13 full bottles sitting cooling in the sink. Unfortunately the constable did not appear amenable to any further neighbourly suggestions for he was busy swigging deeply from his tankard.

Mr Mustafi left quietly after depositing a couple of packets of extra-strong painkillers in plain sight of the guzzling Mountie.

"Eh?" said Fraser having drained the very last drop. He hiccupped loudly and wiped his frothy moustache off.

He giggled happily to himself.

"21 bot..bottles of beeer..he whispered <hic!>"

He wove his way the sink to retrieve yet another bottle. Bad Kitty glared at him from the drainer. Fraser grinned broadly at the spectre and put a finger to his lips.

"Sssh! Musn't noise make. Naughty kitty..tskitty tisskitty..a tisket a tasket..ickle kittums.."

He bent over Kitty and began trying to tickle the ghostly kit under its chin. Purely from bad habit Kitty arched her back and scratched wildly at him.

Fraser leaned out of the way, swayed once and crashed to the floor, much to the cat's satisfaction.

"Timberrrrrr!" it purred.

In Vino Vomitas

Ray found him still lying there 20 minutes later. In his upright right hand he still gripped the miraculously intact ninth beer.

"How the Mountie's fallen" muttered Ray bending to retrieve the bottle.

"Look's like your friend's finally takin' to the happy juice." observed his father lounging against the window frame.

"Yeah well it sure made us happy." answered Ray bitterly, checking Fraser's condition.

His father brushed this off impatiently.

"Listen son. That Mountie's multo nutzo. Why ya still hangin' round with him?"

Ray raised his eyes to his father and considered.

"I have just one thing ta say to ya pop."

"Yeah what?"

"Quaaack!!" said Ray with gusto.

His parent looked round wildly then dived at speed through Fraser's window. Much to Vecchio Sr's consternation Ray had accurately divined the magic word for the phantom fowl's conjuration.

Ray filled a glass of water and fished some icecubes from Benton's makeshift sink cooler.

"Oooh Benny!"

No answer as such, just some loud and remarkably unmusical snoring.

"Constable Fraaasserr!" This was a truly pitiful attempt at Dragon Lady impersonation.

Still no response. Possibly one or two of the snores were slightly louder.

<Oh well.> shrugged Ray judging his target.

"Bombs away!" as he tipped the iced water with pinpoint accuracy over the sleeping policeman.

"Ff..ishcakes!!" spluttered Fraser spouting a couple of icecubes.

"Oooh!" he groaned as he realised he had mentioned the "f" word - "food" that is.

"Benny if ya wanna heave do it in this and *not* over any part of me." ordered Ray holding out Dief's foodbowl, ignoring the wolf's yelp of protest. Dief was sure he wanted nothing to do with predigested Mountie munchies.

Benny rolled painfully and leaned over the bowl.

"I doan wanna be ..ick" he moaned making a face.

"Quit with the hamster cheeks Benny - go on it'll do ya good."

"No no no no no no no." he groaned shaking his head very slightly. <Could someone stop the room spinning pleeeze.>

"OK Benny. Ya asked for it. Fried eggs, sunnyside up with a side order of fries. Just imagine Benny dipping the fries and seein' all that lovely runny yellow gooey.."

At that point Fraser lost it, completely - the contents of his stomach that is.

"Feelin' better?" enquired Ray from the safety of the other side of the room.

Fraser rolled heavily onto his back and screwed up his eyes against the lights.

"Kinda bright in here ain't it?" observed Ray looking over the strange assortment of lamps.

"What's the matter Benny - ya been doin' some weird Inuit ritual? Cmon' Dances with Loopies time to get back to the real world."

He peered over cautiously.

"Hmm looks like ya forgot the first rule of drinkin' barring the diced carrots."

Fraser pressed his hand to his lips.

"Carrots?" he murmured faintly. "What carrots?"

"Never mind." said Ray wrinkling his nose fastidiously as he disposed of the contents of Dief's bowl.

"So give Frasier"

In words of not more than three painful syllables Fraser confessed his secret shame.

"Lemmee get this straight Benny. You're bein' haunted by a dead cat who ya iced, or ya think ya mighta deprived of its nineth life 25 *years* ago? *That's* what made ya decide ta go for the crash course in Beer Appreciation 101? Geez must be *some* spook man. This I gotta see."

Ray leaned back in his chair, hands comfortably on the back of his head.

"So where's it now?"

Fraser sat opposite Ray, his head in his hands. He was personally convinced that if he let go his head would fly apart. With his left pinkie he pointed vaguely in the direction of his crumpled duvet.

"Nah..nada. Sorry Frasier. Nuthin' doin'."

Fraser slid his fingers over his eyes and tried to concentrate on pain relief as a thousand steel-toed rivetters tap danced through his shattered senses.

"Hey Benny ya wanna know a good cure for a hangover?" asked Ray.

"Mmmh mmhuh." replied Benny, faintly.

"OK. Best cure I know for a hangover is..." whispered Ray, quietly into Benny's right ear.

"DON'T DRINK!!!" yelled his friend at a pitch calculated to bruise Fraser's already tender tympani.

"Ray!!" protested Fraser weakly, surprised at the vehemence in his friend's voice.

"For your own good Frasier, last thing I wanna see is my best bud turnin' into a drunk like my ol' man." Ray stood by the window staring into his past. He gave a shudder and went back to Fraser's side.

"Look's like ya got it all planned too." he said indicating the pills on the table..

"Have ya taken any of these yet?"

"Those, no. I didn't plan this Ray. The beer was a Xmas present from Turnbull actually." Fraser stood up shakily and looked across at his friend.

"That cat spirit Ray, it may not be real to you, but I, well I guess I just wanted to get so that I didn't have to face up to it, or whatever I did. The painkillers..<shrug> Courtesy of Mr Mustafi. I guess he's not a real fan of my singing. Sorry Ray, I didn't mean to let you down."

"I just figured you were lettin' yourself down Benny. Hey I'm sorry too."

Ray took a deep breath, feeling a lot better about Benny's little halo slip. He smiled reassuringly at Fraser.

"C'mon man ya need to get this outta your system"

Ray fetched a glass of water and handed it to Fraser along with a couple of painkillers.

"Thanks Ray." Fraser accepted the tablets and gulped them down quickly.

"Sure." said Ray going back to the window. He leaned his head against the cooling pane and considered the elegant form of his beloved Riv. "Luv ya baby." he whispered to it, fondly drawing the outline of a heart on the glass.

"Hey!!" yelled Ray pulling up the windowframe roughly. Fraser groaned softly behind him.

"Whadda ya think you're doin'..leave her alone!!"

He stuck his head out of the window gesticulating wildly at the two youths who appeared to be contemplating an overly intimate association with his vehicle.

"Raymond Vecchio?" said one.

"Detective First Grade Raymond Vecchio?" supplemented the other.

"Yeah so? Whadda ya doin' down there? Don't ya be touchin' her! If I find so much as one of your low life prints desecrating..." At this point Ray's body was halfway through the window, while his mind was already pummelling the pair into a fine Italian form of oblivion.

"It's alright Detective Vecchio. Let me introduce myself, Special Agent Castor and this is Special Agent Pollux."

"Like I said, so?" came the detective's somewhat mollified but still belligerent tones.

"Can we come up. We have something to discuss with you - privately. Oh and is Constable Benton Fraser with you?"

Ray opened his mouth to reply, then considered Fraser's current state. He didn't want his friend to be found in such a condition, especially by the Feds.

"I'll come down, we can talk in the Riv. The constable's not available." He completed his window exit and made his way down the fire escape before the agents could protest.

"This had better be good." said Ray dusting himself down. "Ya do know I'm on suspension don't ya? Say, this isn't anything to do with that?" <Geez just what has Frannie done to me?>

"Inside please detective." indicated Agent Castor.

Ray pulled his car keys from his coat pocket and reluctantly opened up. He slid into front seat. Agents Castor and Pollux made their way to the back.

"Here." said Agent Castor passing a photograph forwards.

The picture was grainy and fairly blurred but the likeness was clear enough.

Ray turned his neck so sharply he almost gave himself whiplash.

"Agent Chapin! Why're ya showin' me a picture of one of your own?"

"So you recognise her."

"I just said so didn't I? What's the deal? Has somethin' happened to her?" Ray's heart pounded uncomfortably.

"You sound concerned." observed Agent Pollux wryly.

"Perturbed in fact." echoed Agent Castor. Both agents had an air of smug satisfaction which infuriated the volatile Vecchio.

Agent Castor leaned forward and rested his arms on the edge of the seat, lacing his fingers together.

"I think some co-operation is called for here detective."

"Indeed." agreed his partner, mirroring Castor's pose.

Ray leaned back, far back, he did not like the way the terrible twins were invading his personal space. He glared at them through narrowed eyes, profoundly suspicious of what he was getting himself involved with.

Missing Link

The door to Apartment 3J closed quietly as Ray re-entered the room. Fraser had fallen asleep again. This time his dark head lay on his crossed arms resting on the kitchen table. He slept peacefully and Ray hated to disturb his friend, but he had no choice.

Dief raised his head and regarded the cop reproachfully.

"Sorry Dief." Ray apologised ruefully and shook his friend's shoulder.

Fraser mumbled, wriggled his shoulders and snored softly.

Ray shook harder.

"Sarah!" muttered the Mountie petulantly. "Stop that."

"Sarah?" Ray shrugged, well at least it hadn't been "Victoria".

The sudden shrill tone of his cell phone split the air.

"Whaa!" Fraser's head was off the table instantly. Good thing thought Ray, there was still plenty of iced water available for raising the Mountie.

"Vecchio here." Ray listened intently.

"Ma, look I'm sorry but I'm kinda tied up with things here..." A look of alarm spread across his face.

"Ya mean she's never come back? No way would be miss out meetin' up with Agnes. I mean they go way back and she only gets to see her once a year..Don't worry ma, I know where she was goin'...Yeah sure I'll keep in touch. Ciao Ma."

"Francesca?" guessed Fraser, looking a lot more in touch with his usual version of reality.

"Yeah. Looks like she's missing. Last I knew looked like she was gonna talk to Welsh 'bout me. Gotta get down there and check it out. Geez little sisters, who'd have 'em!" Ray was worried and angry. He did not need this, not after his little discussion with the FBI agents. Damn, he still had to tell Fraser. *That* he was not looking forward to - at all.

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

Ray fiddled with his car keys, tossing them up and down fretfully as the Mountie looked for an outdoor jacket.

"C'mon Frasier. What's takin' ya so long? Your Armani at the cleaners? Geez it must be *so* difficult to choose with your *extensive* wardrobe."

Fraser appeared a moment later clutching his favourite leather jacket.

"Look Ray!" He sounded distraught.

Ray looked and rolled his eyes.

"Interesting design Benny. I thought ya preferred wolves, still - cute kitten, love the pink bow."

"Someone's been interfering with my clothes." complained the Mountie.

"Yeah well if ya won't get locks..."

"Hey Benny what about your uniform?"

"No!" Fraser turned white and rushed back to check.

A loud keening wail issued from the Mountie's walkin closet.

"Oh dear." said Ray, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Oh!" mouthed Ray looking at Fraser.

"Benny!"

"Both of them Ray. Look - both of them!" Fraser held up both his uniform jackets and shook them at his friend.

Sure enough both jackets were now festooned with carefully glued sequins, baubles and beads forming the by now inevitable pattern of a playful pink-bowed kitten.

"There's kinda a cat motif running through all this ain't there Benny?" observed Ray thoughtfully. "Do ya think it's got anything to do with *that* cat?"

With a start Fraser dropped the jackets and looked rounded hauntedly.

"You can see it?"

"Nah. Can you?"

The Mountie looked cautiously round the room and frowned.

"Why no." He sounded puzzled and somewhat worried. He strode forward, checking every nook and cranny of his apartment.

"Nothing." said Fraser running his fingers through his pelt. While he had hated the constant visitations by kitty, her sudden disappearance sent shivers down his spine. She was surely not done with her haunting? Fraser knew in his bones that this was definitely *not* the case.

"Frasier." began Ray impatiently. "My sister? Look I need ta talk to Welsh but first I think we should check home and see if there's anythin' there. Besides I definitely need ta change."

Ray was not keen on having a close encounter with his boss just yet. Perhaps, just maybe Frannie had left some clue at home. Anyway he needed a shower and a change of clothes. Better to turn up looking his usual immaculate self, and the odour of Fraser's recent "upheaval" hung like a miasma around him or so his ever sensitive nostrils were telling him.

"Uh certainly Ray. I believe the weather's not too cold, I'll just take my sweater if you'll just hang on a..." But Ray had already made tracks, large, impatient, Vecchio-sized tracks.

Fraser shrugged and pursued his friend, pausing only to enquire of his wolf if he would care to join their little Frannie hunt. Diefenbaker yawned hugely and decided more napping was the order of the day. <So no thank you on that and shut the door quietly as you go.>

"Humph. Typical." said the Mountie slamming the door forcefully allowing his frustration to show as it usually did, mainly to his lupine companion.

"Humph. Typical." muttered Dief. "No consideration."

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

Outside Ray sat impatiently revving the engine, drumming his long fingers on the steering wheel. Where was Fraser? Sure, he was quick enough when it came to bag snatching, one yell and out that window leaping across rooftops like some SuperMountie.

"Finally! What took ya so long, ya get lost on the second floor, that kink in the stairs finally get to ya?"

"Sorry Ray." apologised the Mountie obviously out of breath. "I forgot this."

"And what, do I dare ask, is *that*?" asked Ray.

Fraser turned in his seat surprised at his friend's lack of knowledge.

"Why surely..?"

"Frasier..." The Mountie made a moue and switched to information overload.

"Well Ray. This is a mandolin.."

"Oh come on Fraser, even *I* know what a mandolin looks like and that aint' it."

"Ah you would be thinking of the musical instrument."

"Yeah, and it don't look like ya could pluck anything with that." Ray reached over.

"Yeouch!" Blood streamed freely from a cut in his finger.

"It's very sharp Ray."

"Now he tells me!" Ray sucked on his finger vigorously.

"What the hell is it Frasier, an instrument of torture?"

"No Ray, it's used in cooking, mainly eastern cooking, japanese for example. It's for slicing very thinly. Umm Do you want a plaster Ray?"

"Have you got a plaster Frasier?"

"No Ray."

"So why?...Never mind, never mind. I'll just quietly bleed to death, not ta mention gettin' blood all over the wheel. <long suffering sigh> What's that?"

"A handkerchief Ray."

"Hmm. It's clean I suppose." Ray considered the gleaming white handkerchief suspiciously.

Fraser's eyes widened.

"Of course." he said, quite hurt by the implication.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Silence ensued while Ray wound the handkerchief in a complicated pattern round his injured finger. He had the sneaking suspicion he had just trodden on Fraser's finer feelings again. Geez but the Mountie was moody these days.

"Oh Fr..uh Benny, why the mandolin?"

"I borrowed it from your mother and I would like to return it." The Mountie stared straight ahead at the oncoming traffic.

<Hum, definitely in a mood then.>

"So Benny" asked Ray as he swung the Riv into the driveway "Whaddya need that mandolin thing for anyways?" The question had been gnawing at him throughout the relatively short drive home.

"Uh like did ya need it for somethin' special, or *someone* special?" he hinted.

"If you must know Ray, I borrowed it to slice some specimens for my new microscope." Dief had been "persuaded" to part with some of "his" savings for the "joint" purchase.

Ray wrinkled his nose. "Specimens? Just what sort of *specimens* are we talkin' about here Frasier? Nah don't tell me I probably don't wanna know."

"As I recall you were quite appreciative when I was able to prove Mrs Peele had psoriasis."

"You used ma's slicer for *that*! Ewww Benny! You are *not* givin' that back. No way! I'll buy her a new one."

"I sterilised it thoroughly Ray."

"Gimmee."

"Now Ray." Understanding your small child mode.

"Frasier. No arguments. Give me that skin slicer."

"Very well, if you insist."

"I do."

Fraser held out the implement which Ray took very, very gingerly.

"Right." said Ray opening the car door and moving quickly to the Vecchio garbage can..

"There!" He said with no little satisfaction as he slammed the lid down.

"Raymondo?" It was his mother standing anxiously on the doorstep.

"Any news?"

"Uh no ma. I thought we'd better check by here first." Ray gave his mother a quick hug.

"Mrs Vecchio." Fraser bowed slightly and automatically tilted an invisible stetson to Ray's mother.

"Benton." Ma Vecchio welcomed her favourite Mountie.

"Ma you don't mind if Benny takes a look round Frannie' room while I take a quick shower?" asked Ray to the horror of the Mountie. The idea of entering Francesca's inner sanctum was unsettling to say the least. Who knew *what* he might come across?

Mrs Vecchio looked dubious, but relented, after all it was necessary and it was Benton.

"OK caro.."

"Great." Ray dashed into the house making for a welcome washover.

Fraser stood rooted to the spot, quite thunderstruck at the prospect. Ma put her hand on his back and gently guided him into the house.

"I understand Benton. Francesca, she's a little intimidating no?"

<I'll say!>

"Uh well I suppose..."

"It's alright, you just go up - second door on the left, you can't miss it. I'll make you a nice cup of tea, your favourite - camomile."

Fleeting longing thoughts for something stronger whisked through Fraser's brain despite his recent unpleasant experience.

<Oh dear.> He put his hand on his chest firmly and encouraged himself by quoting Mountie regulations every step of the way up the stairs. He could hear Ray singing something loudly in mangled Italian/American as he showered.

Francesca's room was a poem in pink, an homage to the colour and all its subtle or not so subtle nuances. Fraser blinked, temporarily blinded by sensory overload.

"Oh my." he said as he re-opened his eyes and Francesca's very own Mountie montage swam into focus. Where and how had she obtained all those pictures? Especially *that* one. Oh dear, she knew about his tattoo now. Fraser's cheeks assumed hues far closer to his serge uniform than the strongest pink in Frannie's boudoir.

Where to start? Fraser crossed his fingers and went to the cosmetics strewn dressing table. A small ticket stuck into the mirror frame caught his eye. What *would* Francesca be doing with a ...

"Find anything Benny?" Ray stood in the doorway peering cautiously in. He had showered and dressed in record time but still managed to look his usual sartorial self.

Fraser reached forward and plucked the ticket from the mirror.

"Ray, do you know what this is for?"

Ray's eyes widened considerably.

"Wow!" Ray seemed very impressed by the small square of paper.

"And...?" said Fraser a tad impatiently.

"Oh? Yeah sorry Benny. I was miles away." A sappy smile and a dreamy look settled on the cop's face.

"If you could just manage to land somewhere in the vicinity of this rug..?" hinted Fraser, getting exasperated.

"Mmmm." dreamed Ray.

"Are you deaf?" <Ha! Diefenbaker's quite enough.> A picture of Ray learning to sign flashed through the Mountie's overheated brain. Fraser made a mental note to invest in some head protection should the need arise. Ray was sure to land some (purely accidental no doubt) palpable hits to various tender parts of Fraser as his long arms flailed with passionate Vecchian enthusiam.

"Mmmm" continued Ray without pause.

"Do you need your ears dewaxed? I have a probe somewhere about my person." threatened the Mountie with a glint in his eye.

"Mmmm." Nuthin doin' Raywise.

"Oh for goodness sake Ray, get a grip!" barked Fraser.

"*Benny*." said his friend reproachfully, taken aback by the ire in the Mountie's voice.

"Ya need to relax more." He took a deep calming breath. "Ya need to get in touch ya know - with your feelings. Ommm an' all that kinda stuff." Ray's fingers clashed tiny invisible cymbals.

Fraser gazed incredulously at this friend. Ray had *lost* his mind. What was he to do? Had the same thing happened to Francesca? Was the ticket giving off some kind of nerve gas, and if so was he immune?

"Oww!" squealed the Mountie, rubbing the back of his wrist vigorously. No pinching did not wake him from this living nightmare.

"Uh Frasier." said Ray understandingly "ya got a problem? Like to share?"

"It's simply that I cannot understand why you would um.." Fraser's personal discomfort with emotions surfaced rapidly.

"Turn gloopy over a ticket?" finished his friend, thwapping the nail firmly on the noggin.

"You could say that." shrugged the Mountie.

"Look at the ticket Benny"

Fraser did as he was bid.

His hand shot to his eyes and he began shaking his head violently from side to side.

"OK enough already - Frannie's missing and that ticket's lookin' like a hot clue. Trust me I'm a detective."

Fraser grinned sheepishly at this friend, blinked twice and read again.

"That cannot *possibly* be right. Well it might be but..but..? Ray?"

"Hunh?"

"McMurkie's Pawn Emporium. Ticket #146."

"McMurkie!! Ray tell me that says McMurkie please..lie to me even." begged the Mountie.

"Frasier you feeling "off colour" again? Sure that's what it says..ah the memories." Ray started getting a green-eyed moony look again.

"Memories?! What *memories*?"

"The only other Canuk I ever knew...what a summer...man I tell ya...<sigh>"

"You KNEW another Canadian?! Who?!"

"Geez Benny it's not against the law to know more of you guys is it? You're not *jealous* are ya?"

"Ray!"

"Sheesh. OK Mr Touchy. Her name was..well I *think* it might have been umm Sally, no that wasn't it...hmm. I remember! It was Sarah, but we called her Sprout. She was kinda tall but cute ya know, oh yeah and she really and I mean *really* dug veggies."

"Sarah...McMurkie?" The words issued faintly from the white faced Mountie now resting lengthwise on Frannie's bed. <Gee Frannie's gonna be soo upset about missin' that> grinned Ray to himself.

"Uh Frasier ya wanna get up - we're supposed to be lookin' for my sister. Oh and by the way, I think ya'd better straighten the covers..else she might start gettin' *ideas*."

"Sarah?" whispered Fraser though whether to Ray or himself it was difficult to tell.

"McMurkie..Yeah. Now c'mon man." Ray bent down and physically hauled the Mountie to his feet.

"Oh." said Ray's mother doubtfully. She stood in the doorway holding a cup of tea and a small plate of cookies.

"Benton this is for you."

"No time ma." said her son, rather flustered.

"Thank you kindly.." called Fraser as the Mountie and the cop dashed rapidly past her.

Ma set the cookies and cup down and smoothed out Frannie's duvet, carefully.

Emporio McMurkie

The Riv slowed to a halt outside a shop which had seen better days, probably sometime during the Napoleonic Wars. Dickens would have been proud of it for it was certainly stuffed with curiosities, some a whole lot curioser than others. Charming if macabre tableaux of stuffed animals took pride of place in the front bow window. A trio of kittens were frantically searched for their lost mittens; while three white mice, looking strangely *cool* and *hip* in black shades tapped out of the way of an oversized carving knife.

Fraser gazed at the pawnbroker's hardly able to believe the evidence in front of him.

"Ray, can you just read that.." he nodded towards the shop sign.."for me please?"

"*Read*?"

"Please."

"Geez I hadn't realised your grandmother had put ya off readin' with all those books she kept givin' ya for your birthdays."

"Ha ha ha." deadpanned Fraser.

"Wow Benny did ya laugh just then or was it the name of some other ratty place ya lived in when ya was a kid?"

"Sarcasm does not become you Ray."

"Yeah but moonlight does, right?" murmured Ray absently, remembering....

Fraser gave up. By the looks of things Ray was off to his own personal nirvana again. He glanced at his friend wondering. Realisation stalked up to him and hit him over the head; 'twas mostly like an extremely large, wet, dead, fish - a selachian perhaps? Ray and Sarah? Ray and SARAH?? RAY and SARAH!!?? <Oh my gosh!!>

Notes:

1. Coming Soon?? Part the Fifth in which....

A. Francesca' fate is revealed..?

B. Benton and Sarah...??

C. Ray and Sarah...????

D. A conclusion.....Hmmmmmm