As I said before, I'm enormously fond of the fact that it seems
as though everyone in the Due South universe is a smart-ass...
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Disclaimer: Alliance owns them. (Ha! Alliance can keep right on thinking
that. They've come to my house to play, and I ain't sending 'em home).
Chronological placement: Time-wise, this takes place after Asylum and
Mountie on the Bounty, although there are no spoilers whatsoever.
Synopsis: Fraser, Kowalski, the Duck Brothers and Turnbull attend the
world's most boring seminar. Ray finds a way to have fun at Ben's expense.
Rating: R, for rough language and implied m/m interaction. If boy on
boy doesn't do it for you, walk on. Not betaed, so all mistakes are
mine.
Archiving: Hexwood & Serge; any where else, please ask first.
Feedback is deeply wanted and will be greedily slurped at LaToot@aol.com.
Troublemaker
by LaT
A lovely, early autumn day in downtown Chicago found Ray Kowalski, Jack Huey, Tom Dewey, Benton Fraser and Renfield Turnbull sitting in a seminar. A seminar on police procedure and the ins and outs and ups and downs of catching criminals in the new millennium and across multiple jurisdictions. It was the multi-jurisdictional aspect of the seminar that accounted for the presence of Fraser and Turnbull -- along with several members of the Chicago FBI field office -- alongside their counterparts in the Chicago PD.
The day had started well enough. Breakfast was served, complete with juices galore and every possible donut and pastry flavor and combination known to discerning sweet-tooths everywhere. Kowalski and Dewey were in heaven for the first 45 minutes.
A spirited and surprisingly funny lecture on the dangers of the Fourth Amendment and the exclusionary rule kicked off the seminar part in grand style, but everything went rapidly downhill from there. Lectures two and three, on undercover surveillance and entrapment, respectively were standard, not-terribly-exciting fare. Four -- on dealing with forensic evidence and chain of custody issues within multiple jurisdictions -- was even more boring. But lecture number five was in a class by itself. Ostensibly about how failing to properly issue Miranda warnings in one jurisdiction could harm the prosecution of a case in a sister jurisdiction, it redefined the words "deadly" and "dull." Actually paying attention virtually guaranteed lapsing into a coma.
Huey and Dewey commenced playing Hangman ten minutes into it. Kowalski, sitting between Huey and Fraser, occupied himself with the Sports section of the Chicago Tribune, silently thanking God he'd had the foresight to buy it when they went out for lunch. Turnbull, sitting on the other side of Fraser, had given up on taking notes twelve minutes into it, and had busied himself with an impressive pencil and ink caricature of the speaker. Waking up from the refreshing five-minute nap he'd taken with his eyes closed, Fraser complimented his Mountie colleague on the work.
"Turnbull, that's quite good."
"Oh, thank you, sir. You don't think the head's too big?"
Fraser looked at the drawing more closely. "Not at all. I always thought that the disproportionately large head was the defining characteristic of visual caricature."
"So did I, sir. I'm glad you approve."
The speaker droned on. As Huey drew the right arm on the stick figure -- representing Dewey's incorrect choice of the letter 'M' -- he listened to see if it seemed as though the lecturer was headed towards a closing. No such luck. He spoke his thought out loud.
"Oh...my....God. If he says 'real politick' one more time, I swear I will put out an eye."
"And isn't that like, *not* the right use of the word?" Dewey asked. "I mean, we're talking about jurisdiction fights between Illinois and Maryland, or between us and the Feds, not some pissing war between India and Pakistan or Turkey or something." He paused. "K."
"You've already guessed 'K'." Huey started to draw the left arm. That's when Kowalski spoke.
"I don't think you get another body part for guessing the same letter. You just lose a turn."
"No. I'm pretty sure guessing the same letter twice is another body part." Huey knew it was a silly thing to argue about, but anything was better than listening to Mr. Nytol.
"I think it's what Ray said." Dewey wasn't pleased at the prospect of getting hanged for the fourth time in a row. He'd never liked guessing games, but the alternatives with Tic Tac Toe or paying attention.
"I have always played it where you get another body part if you guess the same letter twice, " Huey started again on drawing the left arm.
"And I've always played it where you just miss a turn when you do that," said Ray as he checked the baseball statistics.
"You know, Ray, you're not playing the game," Huey began, but Dewey broke in with,
"Yeah, but *I* am, and I say I just miss a turn."
"Oh, you would, Tom."
"Jack, he's right."
"No, he's not."
"Yes, Huey...I am."
"All right," said Huey. "I think this calls for an objective opinion."
The three of them turned their heads to the left. In unison:
"Fraser?"
Before he could answer, J.P. Tibbit, sitting directly in front of Ray, whirled around and, rather viciously, spat out a warning.
"Some of us are actually trying to listen to this. The tax dollars of the citizens of Chicago paid for us to be here and if you all want to waste that money arguing about Hangman, the least you could do is take it outside." Then, she realized to whom she was speaking. The color of her cheeks turned a distinct shade of pink.
Kowalski flashed his biggest, sweetest smile. "Howya doin', J.P.? You know, the next time I wanna be fired at improperly, I'll be sure to look you up, but until that day comes, why don't you take note that A," he pointed to himself, "was talking to B," he pointed to Fraser, "so you can just C your ass right outta this conversation."
Tibbit turned back to the lecture.
"No...you did *not* just say that," said Huey, working hard not to laugh out loud.
"Yep...he did," said Dewey, chuckling.
The right corner of Fraser's mouth turned upward slightly, and there was no mistaking the amusement shining in his eyes. Even though Tibbit probably did deserve some of that, he nevertheless felt as though her scolding of them all was warranted.
"Ray, we probably *should* stop talking."
"Why? We're the only ones saying anything interesting." Turnbull clamped his hand over his mouth almost as soon as he finished the sentence. Not only had he just insulted the speaker, but, in his Miranda rights-induced stupor, he'd contradicted Constable Fraser. He quickly looked back down at his drawing.
Fraser thought for a minute. "True enough. But it might behoove us to whisper."
Kowalski snorted. "Behoove. *Behoove*? I'm gonna start carrying a dictionary, Mountie. Behoove. What the..."
"It means 'to benefit', I think," offered Huey helpfully.
When the bespectacled young woman sitting next to Tibbit turned around and said "shhhh," the five of them finally piped back down.
Turnbull started a caricature of Tibbit, Huey and Dewey switched to Tic Tac Toe, and Ray checked out the Arts section. Fraser actually continued taking notes, in case Inspector Thatcher and Lt. Welsh had any questions for them about the seminar or its topics, but he wasn't thinking about the lecture.
Instead, his mind revisited the events of earlier that day. Ray had employed a most delightful method for waking him. Fraser shuddered slightly at the vivid memory of the other man's mouth expertly wrapped around his early morning erection. He knew thinking about it at the moment was probably not a good idea, but it was too late to un-think it. He felt the familiar stirring and glanced down. He shifted slightly and moved the stenographic pad to his lap. He didn't dare look at Ray.
For his part, Kowalski found nothing of interest in the Arts section -- no new exhibits to see, no interesting festivals to check out. He'd managed to not pay attention for the first twenty minutes. He didn't intend to pay attention for the last twenty. What to do, what to do? Movement to his left brought him an idea. Teasing Fraser was the *most* fun when the Mountie got so flustered he couldn't fight back.
"Hey, Fraser, can I have a couple of sheets of paper?" He looked at Fraser's lap, then at his face. Kowalski's smile was sweet and sure.
Fraser truly thought it was dangerous to actually *look* at Ray. It would embarrass everyone in the lecture hall if he were to tackle his partner to the ground, undress the man with his teeth, and lick him all over. That...simply wouldn't do in a public setting. Keeping his eyes on the speaker, he tore off four sheets of paper and handed them to Ray.
Kowalski took them and picked up his pen. This was the final lecture of the day and then they were free. He still had fifteen minutes to think of what his and Fraser's excuses would be if Huey, Dewey and Turnbull wanted to get something to eat later, but for the time being, he just wanted to make his gorgeous lover squirm.
He wrote out a note, and positioning it so that Turnbull couldn't see, slid it over to Fraser. When the Mountie didn't look down, Kowalski softly cleared his throat.
Fraser looked. And swallowed. It read:
/I wanna fuck you. Senseless./
Kowalski looked to see the evidence of his handiwork. The blush, light and pink, was already at the throat. It seemed to Ray that this was an excellent start.
He took the piece of paper and scribbled some more, taking care that Huey couldn't see. He set it back in Fraser's line of sight.
/I wanna fuck you senseless, and then have you come in my mouth./
Fraser's cheeks were a darker pink now. Kowalski bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing and to distract himself from how tight the crotch of his jeans suddenly felt. He snatched the paper back. Waited several seconds. Scribbled again.
/I wanna fuck you senseless and have you come in my mouth, either in, or on, my car./
Fraser's left thumbnail scraped across his left eyebrow. His cheeks were so flushed it looked as though he'd just run a marathon, and Kowalski was certain this was the first time he'd ever seen that caribou-caught-in-the-headlights look on Fraser's face.
Turnbull noticed it, too. "Are you all right, sir?"
"Fine, Turnbull. I'm just...fine."
"I only ask because..."
"I'm *fine*, Turnbull." Fraser still refused to look at Ray.
Fortunately, the lecture was, at long last, over. The speaker thanked them all, and released them for the rest of the day. Huey and Dewey decided, spur of the moment, to go to the movies, and extended the invitation to their companions as the five of them filed out of the auditorium. Turnbull readily accepted, but Kowalski was prepared with his excuse.
"Thanks, but no thanks. After sittin' here all day, I think I'm gonna go ridin'." He looked at Fraser, who immediately looked elsewhere.
"That sounds like a good idea, Ray," Turnbull said cheerfully. "It's a great afternoon for cycling."
"It's a great afternoon for ridin', that's for sure," Kowalski answered, still daring Fraser with his eyes.
"What about you, sir?" Turnbull looked at Fraser.
"Dief probably needs to be walked, right, Frase?" Ray was wearing his most innocent expression.
Fraser just nodded. Then, getting as close to Ray as he trusted himself to be when Turnbull loped ahead to catch up with Huey and Dewey, he spoke in a voice so low only Ray could hear. "You are in *so* much trouble."
Kowalski winked at him and smiled. "I was hopin' you'd say that."