"Ray, would you please stop the car?"

          Detective Ray Vecchio shot a savage look at his partner. "Why?" he demanded. "Fraser, y'know just 'cos you nag me over an' over to do somethin' don't mean I'm gonna do it."

          A slow, steady intake of breath betrayed an uncharacteristically high level of tension in Constable Benton Fraser's normally placid demeanour. "I am aware of that, Ray, although I would hardly call asking you on three occasions in the space of forty-five minutes 'nagging.'

          "When you failed to acknowledge my first request, I assumed that it was simply because you hadn't heard me above the combined noises of the siren of the fire truck behind us and the car horn which, by the way, you employed to great effect."

          Fraser ignored the caustic glare he could feel burning into the side of his head. "I realise now that my second request was not made at the most auspicious moment. I merely took advantage of the pause in the conversation between yourself and the elderly lady on the crossing."

          Fraser risked a glance towards his partner. "I'm sure the dog will make a full recovery."

          "Dog," Ray muttered. "That wa'nt no dog," he spat the word out for extra emphasis. "That was a... a rat. A flea-bitten rat on a leash that was so long the rat was across the street before... before rat woman even stepped off the sidewalk. How was I s'posed to see that? And she was walkin' with her nose on the floor."

          "Affenpinscher," Fraser said quietly.

          "Gesundheit," Ray snapped back.

          "No, no, Ray, the dog. The dog was an Affenpinscher. Approximately two point five kilograms in weight. A very fine example of the breed," Fraser remarked, more to himself than Ray. "The leash was of a sufficient length to allow the owner – considering the curvature of her spine – to walk her dog at a distance that prevented her from inadvertently stepping on the animal."

          "Would've done everyone a favour if she had. Dogs, rats, ass pinchers... whatever. She hit my car, Fraser. With a big stick! I can see the dent from here."

          "You threatened to – I believe your actual words were – 'kick that stupid animal into the fourth millennium.' Had you not then attempted to carry out your threat, Mrs Jefferson would have had no reason to use her cane to ward you off. It was the rubber tip on the end of the cane that made contact with the car."

          Ray's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "H.. how...? A'right, just tell me, Fraser, how do you know her name? No, don't tell me. When she leaned forward to lash out at me, you read it on the inside of her coat? No?

          "Okay, maybe you read it off the tag around the rat's scrawny little neck? No? Maybe her purse was open just enough for you to read it on her ATM card? No? No, well, okay, fine, you just tell me, then, just tell me, Mr X-ray vision, how you know that her name is Jefferson? Huh? Tell me!"

          Fraser turned to face his partner. "She told me, Ray. While you were examining the damage to the car, I asked her if she was all right and, during our short conversation, she told me her name."

          Ray spluttered. "She told it to attack me. She more or less ordered it to bite me, Fraser. What was I meant to do? Stand there and wait 'til its little rat teeth were buried gum-deep in my leg?"

          "I'm not surprised it tried to bite you," Fraser winced as the Riv pulled out in front of a delivery truck. "It perceived that you were acting in a threatening manner towards its pack-mate and it reacted accordingly. Dogs are very intelligent, Ray. If a member of the pack is threatened, the rest of the pack will attempt to ward off the threat."

          "Not to mention through a pair of very expensive Italian pants. You shoulda made her shorten that leash, Fraser, that's what you shoulda done. Dangerous, aggressive animals need a real short leash, and so do their owners."

          Fraser suppressed a retort. He discreetly put his hand on the door to steady himself as the car veered sharply to the right. "Ray, you know I have no jurisdiction here.

          "The very most I could have done, even if I'd been given the opportunity to make a suggestion, would have been to point out that maybe a leash of that length was not strictly necessary and quite possibly potentially hazardous to both herself and the animal. She would have been well within her rights to dismiss such advice, however well-meaning, as interference."

          Ray was shaking his head, looking and sounding exasperated. "This is... no, no, this was a mint condition 1971 Buick Riviera. Now it's all bashed up and I'm gonna have to take it to the repair shop for the second time in six weeks. Six weeks, Fraser! Six weeks! It'll need another re-spray and who's gonna pay for it this time? Huh? I don't got that sorta money. You got money?"

          Fraser just shook his head as Ray continued without a pause. "No, course not. And I don't either, with you draggin' me through garbage every other day. D'you know how much my last dry-cleaning bill was for?

          "No, and you don't care, either, do you? No. You shoulda got her address, Fraser. Why di'n't you get her address? I coulda sued her for it. D'you know what the insurance payments are on this car?"

          "No, Ray, I don't." Fraser regarded his partner with mild amusement. "The manual didn't cover that particular topic," he averted his eyes from the murderous stare, trying not to smile.

          "And," Fraser went on "as I recall, Diefenbaker was once judged – admittedly without due consideration of all the facts surrounding his case – to be a dangerous animal, yet he is rarely on a leash. I doubt if he'd take kindly to being made to wear one at this stage of his life." Fraser turned to regard part-wolf, part-whatever, which eyed him lazily from the back seat.

          "As for myself, I will admit to certain reservations concerning the infringement of the civil liberties of those who choose to have a dog for a companion, should it ever be arbitrarily decided that we all had to wear a leash simply because others were unable to behave in a civil manner around you." He ran a hand over the animal's glossy coat as it whined in agreement. "Exactly. It certainly would look ridiculous."

          "I'm not bein' ridiculous, Fraser. If she can't see where she's goin' she shouldn't be out on the streets."

          Fraser looked quizzically at the Italian. "Ray, simply because one is of advanced years does not mean that one should be automatically condemned to remain house-bound. For a woman of her age, she was remarkably sprightly, as you yourself must have noticed as she ran across the road to speak to you."

          "Speak!" Ray shrieked, glaring round at Fraser.

          The Riv swung sharply left and Fraser braced himself against the seat as his head narrowly missed hitting the window.

          "If I may return to our original conversation; my final request for you to stop the car was made during a lengthy silence, while you were driving at approximately one hundred and four kilometres per hour in a straight line on a road with no visible, or audible, distractions. I had assumed that sufficient time had passed since the incident at the crossing for you to have calmed down but, obviously, I was mistaken."

          "Why?" Ray demanded. "Why d'you wanna walk? I told you, you just gotta give me one good reason why and I'll let you out. But no. You just gotta ramble on about rats and old women and fire trucks an' it just does this" – Ray waved a hand over his head – "and you know it drives me nuts when you do that, Benny, so why'd you do that, huh?

          "Why d'you keep goin' on an' on until I'm ready to drive into the back of that truck" – the car horn sounded long and loud – "and you nearly get us both killed when you do that, Fraser. Why d'you do that?"

          "Ray, please..." Fraser's face was ashen as he turned to stare at what appeared to be the same delivery truck they'd narrowly avoided just a few minutes earlier. Maybe the driver knew a short-cut... or maybe Ray simply had no idea where he was going.

          The last thought was scary enough to make Fraser ask again. "If you'd just pull in over there, I would be..."

          "We're almost there, Benny," Ray whined. "An' look, it's rainin'. Why'd ya wanna get out an' walk in this weather?"

          Fraser sighed shakily, his eyes slowly scanning the skyline to assessing the state of the weather. The cloud cover had thickened considerably since the morning. The grey-gold cast to the sky held a hint of thunder; the rain was just a taster for what was going to be a stormy night.

          "It's just a light shower, Ray," he said desperately. "I hardly think that walking half a kilometre in light rain is going to prove overly detrimental to my health."

          "That ain't the point, Benny. It'll take longer for me to find somewhere to pull over and let you out than it will to get back to your place from here. Why'd you wanna walk?"

          Fraser rubbed at his forehead. "Ray..."

          "You're mad, aren't you?"

          Fraser stared at his partner. "I most certainly am not," he stated, indignantly.

          "No," Ray smothered a grin "I meant you're mad at me. About this morning."

          "Oh," Fraser said, frowning. "No, of course not, Ray."

          "Okay, so what else has happened to put you in such a snit?"

          Fraser closed his eyes in frustration. "Nothing, Ray."

          The Italian shook his head at Fraser's half-hearted denial. "I don't believe you, Fraser. You're still mad at me about that perp."

          "I've put the incident completely out of my mind, Ray."

          "No, you haven't."

          "Yes, Ray, I have."

          "No, Benny, you haven't, because if you had, you wouldn't've mentioned it then. If you'd put it outta your mind you'd've had no idea what I was talkin' about, so you must still be mad at me." Ray set his jaw in a visual equivalent of a 'so there'.

          Fraser looked across at Ray and sighed again. "It was you who mentioned the incident, Ray. I am not mad at you, I merely asked that you stop the car and allow me to get out so that I can walk home."

          "Nah, nothin's that simple with you, Benny," Ray retorted. "Admit, it, you wanna walk home in the rain so's you can make me feel guilty about what happened this mornin'."

          "Well, if you insist, Ray."

          "So you are mad at me." The Italian said triumphantly.

          Fraser cast a weary glance to his left. "If it makes you feel better and if it means you will stop the car then, yes, I'm angry with you."

          Ray shot him a fierce look. "So, I was right."

          "Apparently," Fraser shrugged, fidgeting in his seat. "Now, if it's not too much trouble, would you drop me off here?"

          "Nuh-uh," Ray smiled humourlessly. "Why'd you say you weren't mad at me when you were? I thought Mounties couldn't lie."

          Fraser sighed again. "If memory serves, Ray, that trait – if indeed it does exist – is possessed only by a fictional alien race of which it should be more than obvious, even to someone as insensitive as you have been this week, that I am not a member."

          "Huh?" Ray took his eyes from the road for long enough to make eye contact with Fraser.

          "I endeavour always to tell the truth, but there are occasions when it is neither prudent nor possible to do so."

          "What?" Ray broke eye contact just in time to pull round a parked delivery truck, then resumed looking into his lover's eyes. "What are you talkin' about?"

          Fraser indicated at some point approximately fifty metres ahead of them. "If you would care to pull the car in over there I'd be happy to offer a more detailed explanation."

          "Fine." The Riv swerved suddenly, and very sharply, into the curb and came to a screeching halt in a fire lane.

          "You've stopped in a fire lane, Ray."

          "So I have," came the acerbic reply. "Are you going to arrest me? Of course not, you don't got no jurisdiction. So, let's get the lecture over with and I can get back to work."

          Fraser stopped checking for approaching fire trucks. "Why?"

          "Why what, Fraser?" Ray's voice rose to a pitch that made Dief bark.

          Fraser turned to look at the Italian. "Why have you stopped in a fire lane?" he demanded.

          Ray smiled. "To annoy you, Fraser," he said sarcastically. "To annoy you so much that you tell me what I've done to annoy you."

          Fraser raised an eyebrow. "Apart from parking in a fire lane?"

          "Yeah," Ray snapped "apart from that."

          "Well..." Fraser slumped back in his seat.

          Ray twisted round to face the Canadian and stared hard at him. "Well what? I ain't movin' until you 'fess up."

          Fraser looked down at his clasped hands; the tips of his fingers were white. "All right, Ray. If the only way to prevent the car being here becoming a danger to others is to, as you say, 'fess up, then I will tell you what it is that you did that caused me..."

          "Get on with it, Fraser. I do gotta life, y'know" – he leaned towards Fraser and lowered his voice to a suggestive whisper – "and, appealing as running every stoplight from here to your flea-pit so's I can fuck you senseless is right now, there are things I gotta do or I lose my job.

          Ray sat back and folded his arms across his chest. "So, c'mon," he said, impatiently "give with the lecture."

          "Very well," Fraser sat up straight and looked dead ahead. "Your behaviour towards me this morning left me feeling... humiliated. You belittled me in the presence of Lieutenant Welsh, and you dismissed my perfectly valid reasoning in front of Elaine and Francesca. You left it in no doubt that you considered my assistance concerning the young man you suspected of having committed the offence for which you apprehended him – assistance that you personally requested – less than helpful. Lecture over."

          "I did not," Ray countered.

          "Yes, you did."

          "So..." Ray shrugged. "So maybe I did." Ray leaned back and ran his right hand across Fraser's shoulders, withdrawing it when he didn't get the expected response. "Benny, it's always been that way with us.

          "You never stop talking an' even when you do you never listen to anythin' I say an' it drives me nuts. I guess I was just a bit stoked up today about the kid, so when you started shoutin' at me, I'd had enough. I guess I just wanted to shut you up. I'm sorry, Benny."

          Fraser turned his head to look at his partner. He acknowledged the contrition in the wide green eyes with a slight smile. "How many times have we had discussions like this?"

          Ray's eyes twinkled. "Before or after I seduced you?"

          Fraser turned his head away at his lover's lascivious expression. "Before and after."

          Ray fought to keep his leer at a publicly acceptable level. "I have no idea."

          Fraser sat thinking for a while. "Approximately three times a week, on average, beforehand and approximately" – he paused, doing a second mental calculation – "nine times every two weeks afterwards, on average.

          "Of course, that doesn't include the 'during', during which, as I recall, we didn't seem to argue quite so often."

          Ray chuckled, grinning lewdly. "No, for the first time in your life you had something better to do with your mouth than talk all day."

          Fraser coloured slightly at this remark. "That doesn't alter the fact that we argue more now than we did before."

          "That's 'cos we spend every waking second together," Ray said with a smug grin.

          Fraser shook his head. "Ray, you don't need me to point out that your statement is grossly exaggerated."

          The grin broadened. "No, of course I don't."

          "Would you care to hear my theory?"

          "No," Ray said with a heavy sigh "but I'm going to, aren't I?"

          Fraser took a sudden deep breath. "It is my belief that we argue more now because we feel more confident in expressing our opinions about how we feel about each other and our life together and how we relate both to each other and to everyone else."

          "Uh-huh," Ray mumbled as he fiddled with the cable of the police radio. Abruptly, he sat back and stared at his lover. "Are you sayin' that we disagree more now? Like maybe we actually don't have anythin' to talk about without arguin'?"

          A frown creased Fraser's brow. The leap of illogic that Ray had taken in this discussion left him speechless.

          Undaunted, the Italian continued. "Are you sayin' that it was a mistake for us to get together? Is that why you wanna get out here? You got someone else?"

          Fraser stared, both in confusion and disbelief, at the Italian. "Ray, have you not heard a word I've said? Have you not been listening?"

          "Yeah, I've been listening. You just don't make no sense. Maybe if you stopped talkin' Canadian and started talkin' American, I might start to understand you."

          There was an uncomfortable silence in the Riv as both men looked out of their respective side windows at the rain. It was heavier now, audible above the traffic noise.

          Fraser eventually broke the tension.

          "I do understand that you were extremely concerned for the safety of the mother and child in the car, Ray, and I do appreciate there is an increase in the level of adrenaline when pursuing and apprehending a criminal.

          "I know this level can be further increased when innocent lives are put at risk, but you have been a police officer for long enough to realise that the enthusiasm to, as you somewhat inaccurately put it, 'end a perp's chances of reaching puberty' has to be curtailed in order that an inappropriate decision is not made in haste."

          "Are you sayin' I was wrong to haul him in?"

          "No!" Fraser said quickly, in an attempt to ward off yet another argument about nothing. "No, no, not at all."

          It proved too little, too late; Ray was back on the attack. "Yeah, you are. You're sayin' I made the wrong decision 'cos I was too quick to arrest him. The perp had a gun to a woman's head and her kid was in the line of fire! Are you tellin' me I should've let him take the car? Drive the kid who-knows-where and maybe shoot it?"

          Fraser sat in silence, occasionally shaking his head as Ray ranted. "Her," he murmured to no-one in particular, as the Italian paused for breath.

          "What?" Ray's eyes bugged out of his head.

          "The child was a girl," Fraser stated calmly, ignoring the glare being focused on him. "Approximately eight months of age. Very pretty. Had her mother's eyes..."

          "Fraser!" Ray shrieked, far louder than was necessary.

          Fraser flinched slightly. "Yes, Ray?"

          "Are you gonna get outta the car?"

          "Oh. Of course, Ray, and thank you. Shall I see you at home?"

          The Italian glared for a few seconds at Fraser, his scorching gaze finally settling on his lover's guileless eyes. Ray's head dropped and when he looked up again, he looked slightly bewildered. "Dammit, Benny, why can't I stay mad at you?"

          "I have no idea, Ray. Maybe when you get home we can discuss it."

          Ray smirked. "Oh, no. I ain't gonna waste any more time talkin'," he reached through the open car window and hooked his finger through Fraser's lanyard, twisting the cord around his fingers to pull Fraser close. "I want some action," Ray whispered suggestively and kissed his lover "if you get my meaning."

          "Chocolate," Fraser murmured. "You've been eating chocolate. Do you have any left?"

          "Might do," Ray teased. "Depends what you're prepared to do to get it."

          "Ray..."

          "Joke, Benny," Ray chuckled.

          "Oh."

        "Okay, sorry. Hey, if you can tell me what sorta chocolate it is... uh..." – Ray pursed his lips – "okay, I'll do whatever you want for an hour."

          "Whatever I want?"

          "Uh-huh," Ray nodded. "Anythin'."

          "And this most generous offer of yours has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I don't eat chocolate?"

          "Ah, Benny," Ray stifled a laugh "you gotta give yourself more credit than that. If you can tell the breed of dog from its piddle you gotta be able to work out what kinda chocolate I've been eatin'." He pulled Fraser in for another kiss.

          After a while, Fraser pulled back and smiled. He gently removed Ray's hand from the white cord, stalling the Italian's protest with a raised hand. After a quick glance around, Fraser detached the lanyard from his tunic, reached inside the car and slipped the loop over Ray's head.

          He ignored Ray's surprised stare, pulling the cord to fit snugly around his lover's neck. The remaining length he tucked under Ray's shirt collar. "I'll expect you at seven thirty."

          Ray yanked the rear-view mirror around and transferred his stare to his reflection. "Benny," he said, sounding irritated "this ain't the way it works."

          "It is now," came the quiet reply. "You have developed a fondness for removing the lanyard at the most inappropriate moments. The checkout at the grocery store is one thing.

          "In the middle of a crowded squad room? Well, you might still be able to get away with it. Removing it while I was on guard duty? Inspector Thatcher was extremely angry."

          "Yeah? The Dragon Lady blistered all the paint on her door," Ray could not hide his smile. "I can't help it, Benny. You just have this effect on me. I can't control myself. She calmed down, didn't she?"

          "Eventually," Fraser sighed "but that's not the point. You simply ignored my requests to stop."

          "That's 'cos you didn't actually say 'stop.' You just sorta glared at me. I don't do subtle, Benny."

          "You knew I wasn't able to speak to you. I could see from your expression that you understood perfectly well the message I was trying to convey. You just took no notice." Fraser checked his watch again. "I have to go now, Ray. I'll expect you at seven thirty."

          Ray grabbed at Fraser's arm to stop him walking away. "Welsh wants me to check on the kid," he complained. "An' I know that once I set foot in the building, he's gonna be waitin' for me by my desk, tappin' his finger on that huge pile of unsolved cases in my in-tray.

          "Thanks to you draggin' me halfway across Chicago every five minutes, there's a lot of them; he's threatened to make me stay late every night for the next six months until they're done."

          "Ray, surely that's an exaggeration."

          "No it ain't. It's gonna take a year or more and Welsh is gonna nail my butt to the chair if you keep draggin' me away for" – he glared at Fraser with mock annoyance – "unofficial business. I dunno if I can get to your place by seven thirty." He paused, waiting for another lecture or maybe one of Fraser's looks and a deep sigh. Nothing ventured, he thought, "Eight?"

          "Eight," Fraser repeated thoughtfully, looking at his watch. "All right. Eight. On the dot, mind you."

          "Okay, Benny," Ray said cheerfully, as the Riv's engine roared into life, "eight it is."

          "Don't be late."

          Ray tugged at the lanyard around his neck, loosening it slightly. "I'm gonna do my best to be there right on time, Benny. But..."

          Fraser shook his head. "Eight o'clock, Ray," he said, pulling the lanyard tight again. "No excuses."

          Ray flew up the stairs to apartment 3J, taking two steps at a time and the garbage in his stride.

          As he skidded to a halt in front of the door, he checked his watch. Three minutes past eight. "Damn!"

          He tried the handle. Locked. He knocked on the door, listening for any sound from inside the apartment. Silence.

          Ray squealed in panic and growing frustration. At the sound of the squeal's echo he lowered his voice. "Benny," he stage-whispered through the door. "You can't've gone out! Not tonight! You know how long it's been since we got chance to mess around? Nearly a week, Fraser!

          "Five days of not bein' able to get in your pants an' then you do this" – he tugged at the lanyard – "an' now you're gone out?" He banged his fists repeatedly on the door.

          "Benny!" The name echoed in the dimly-lit space. Ray spun on his heel to see if anyone was watching him. Thankfully, there were no curious onlookers this time. He pressed his face against the bare wood. "Benny, you better be there or you're gonna regret it."

          Silence. Ray stepped back, rubbing his hands. He could feel his cock pressing against his zipper. "Oh, great," he groaned, sotto-voce "if I gotta spend much longer thinkin' about it rather than doin' it then I'm gonna regret it."

          He tried to distract his attention from the growing bulge in his underwear by thinking about something unpleasant.

          It wasn't difficult. "Last time you locked me out, Benny," Ray muttered darkly "there was a naked woman in your bed. Our bed now, Benny, in case you'd forgotten. I'm tellin' ya, Fraser, if you got a woman in there, I'm gonna kill her." He tried the handle again. The distraction had failed miserably; he was now even more horny than before.

          "Aw, Benny, this ain't fair. You know what you gettin' all enigmatic does to me..." Ray pursed his lips as he rattled the door again, his agitation increasing.

          The thought crossed Ray's mind that it would be easy enough to kick a hole in the weakened wood big enough for him to crawl through. He took a step back again and frowned.

           "Listen, Benny," he muttered "I don't got no problems kickin' this door down. Ain't no lock can keep me outta there. Unlike you, I don't respect people's privacy."

          Ray stepped forward and banged his fist on the door. "Fraser! Open the damn door! On the count of three, or I'm kickin' it down! An' you" – he stabbed a finger towards the door – "will be payin' for the next pair of shoes. I ain't ruinin' any more footwear for you for nothin'!"

          Stepping back, he braced himself against the walls with his hands and raised his foot. "One... Benny, open the damn door... two... Fraser, I'm warnin' you.. three..."

          There was a loud click. Ray's foot fell to the floor, but the door remained closed. "Okay, okay, so I gotta ask nicely," he muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

          Tugging his coat lapels and rubbing his hands over his shorn hair, Ray composed himself. With a tight smile, he stepped close to the door.

          "Benny, open the door. If you're in there... I mean," he put his hands on his head "obviously, if you're not in there then you can't open the door," he muttered "and I'm talkin' to an empty room an' feelin' like an idiot.

          "But you gotta be in there," Ray raised his voice "'cos you unlocked the door and Benny open the damn door!" He slapped a hand repeatedly on the door.

          Half a minute passed. "Oh, great," he groaned again. "You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?" Hands on hips, head down, he stared at his feet. "Least this way I don't get to ruin hundred dollar shoes again."

          Looking up, Ray sighed deeply. "Okay, fine. Please. There, I said it. You happy now? Please, Benny, would you please open the door? Please?"

          Slowly, a key turned in the lock.

          "Great!" Ray rubbed his palms together, then reached for the handle but the door, although unlocked, remained closed. "FRAser!" he half-shrieked, dropping his voice at the corridor's resounding emptiness. Where were noisy neighbours when you really needed them?

          "What more d'you want from me? You wan' me to beg? Tellin' you now, Benny, I ain't gonna beg. Ray Vecchio begs for no-one, not even you." He paced in a tight circle. The throbbing in his groin was now getting painful, and it was getting more and more difficult to keep both the frustration and his voice under control.

          "Benny, I'm goin' crazy here! I gotta... ah, damn, you know what it's like, Benny, this ain't good for a guy." His voice dropped to an anguished murmur. "Even if you can go for decades without it, I'm gettin' seriously... Benny, can I co.. oh, man, if I say it, it's gonna happen... Benny, would you please let me in?"

          The door opened slowly to a room that was in near-total darkness. Ray stepped over the threshold. He door closed softly behind him and he was enveloped in blackness.

          Ray had spent a lot of time in Fraser's apartment, but he had never felt like he did right at this moment; there was not enough light in the room for him to see further than the end of his arm. The gap under the door had been plugged, too.

          Ray frowned; why would Fraser – accustomed as he was to weeks of round-the-clock daylight – choose now to decide he no longer wanted to see the sun through the grey smog that hung over the disused warehouses and rat-infested slums?

          Unwilling to move from where he stood for fear of falling flat on his face, Ray stood still until whoever was in the room with him chose to make their presence, and therefore their identity, known.

          As he waited, he acknowledged the thought he'd been trying to ignore; in his capacity as a police officer he had to at least consider the possibility that, if Fraser's door was locked, there might be a problem.

          On the last occasion, Fraser had followed Ray from the building in a desperate effort to explain the reason behind his uncharacteristic behaviour; his desperation probably saved his life.

          Ray could not readily dismiss the possibility of a similar situation occurring again; if someone was holding Fraser against his will, Ray had to be ready to act fast. His hand was on the gun under his jacket before the thought had even registered.

          "Considering that you arrived at this apartment three minutes and forty seconds after eight o'clock, the fact that it took a further seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds for you to realise that you would have to request entry is most disappointing.

          "Suffice to say that the manner in which you did request entry would be considered by most people to be no more than adequately polite. You are well aware that being polite does not mean that you are required to beg. Such blatant disregard of proper etiquette is displeasing.

          "However, before you take your gun out of its harness, it is only fair to remind you that you have shot yourself in the foot once today, and it is really quite unnecessary to do so again."

          Ray's hand dropped to his side. "That's my Benny," he smiled. Obviously, the man had been reading Emily Post in his spare time. "Okay, enough already. What's wi..."

          "You have neither asked for nor been given permission to speak," interrupted Fraser. "Kindly remain silent."

          Ray felt the surge of nervousness brought about by the unfamiliarity of his situation, and by the cold edge of his lover's voice.

          The Italian's eyes widened as he searched the darkness. "Fraser," he said, his voice carrying the warning his body language could not convey.

          "Were you not asked to remain silent?"

          Ray nodded mutely.

          Fraser's voice was utterly calm; Ray could hear none of the anger he had seen a spark of earlier in the car and, in other circumstances, that fact would merely have registered in Ray's mind as Fraser's usual attitude to their frequent – albeit mainly good-tempered – arguments.

          Okay, so Ray had not turned up on time and had then forgotten his manners. Another valid interpretation could be that he'd just made it and had arrived more than ready to play; he had merely not been able to contain the enthusiasm which temporarily clouded his judgement.

          Fraser seemed to have an ulterior motive behind his decision to put Ray on the leash, but the Italian was presently at a loss to work out what it might be.

          The other thing Ray didn't understand was why Fraser didn't just say that he was angry... if he was angry. Ray fidgeted, but stayed silent.

          Come to think of it, what did Fraser do with all his unexpressed anger? In the absence of visual distractions, Ray's mind conjured up the image of an icy calm Fraser, bottling his vitriol in a secret distillery.

          He squinted into the blackness, turning his head briefly towards the sound of someone walking across the bare wooden floor behind him.

          "That is better. You will remain silent until you are given permission to speak. You will remain standing until instructed otherwise. You will remain motionless unless it is to assist in the removal of your clothes.

          "You will not remove any bodily secretions unless you are given permission. You will not make any other sound unless you are given permission." Fraser took hold of the lanyard. "Step two paces forward, please."

          Fear spiked through the surface veneer of calm in Ray's mind and he stomped forward. "Fine, okay... fine..." The words escaped him before he could act to stop them. He heard Fraser's voice behind him, to his right.

          "You have been asked to remain silent on three separate occasions. The request is now an order."

          Fraser drew a black velvet slumber mask from his pocket and placed it over Ray's eyes, smoothing the soft elastic across the Italian's skull to hold it in place. "That order is also your final warning."

          Ray knew there was a short wall in front of him. He suspected that it was too close for comfort. Hopefully, at least Fraser could see well enough in the gloom to ensure that it would remain just a wall and not a source of serious injury.

          Fraser's statement assuaged Ray's fear. "Turn to your right and take eight paces forward, please."

          Ray did as Fraser requested, guided by the cord that looped around his neck. He imagined that he could hear Fraser moving with him, perhaps just an arm's length away, maybe to catch him if he fell.

          As he moved, Ray's mind went over the morning's events to see whether something in either his or his lover's behaviour might help him understand why Fraser had decided to finally switch on him.

          They'd been between the Precinct and the Canadian Consulate when they had driven past what appeared to be a car-jacking in progress.

          Never one to stand idly by when the law was being broken, Fraser had been out of the car and across the street before the Riv had even come to a halt.

          Ray had followed and dragged to the ground a teenager who'd apparently been trying to force a woman from her car at gunpoint.

          There had been a young child in the car and the adolescent perp had been weaving all over the place like he was drunk or high on drugs.

          Ray had asked Fraser to help and had been given not immediate and unquestioning assistance, but what Ray took to be the lamest excuse ever as to why the use of force was not, in this young man's case, necessary; the thug was not well.

          Not well?

          Not for the first time during this particular week had Fraser been on the receiving end of an extremely ill-tempered diatribe.

          Okay, so maybe Ray had completely ignored Fraser's repeated attempts to bring to his attention that the young man with the gun was neither drunk nor drugged but seriously hypoglycaemic.

          Yeah, and maybe yelling at Elaine over the radio, demanding to know why there wasn't back-up available, had been unnecessary.

          Oh, and perhaps he'd also yelled at Fraser something to the effect that attempting to perform a medical examination on a perp while said perp was still engaged in the process of committing a felony was not standard police procedure.

          How was Ray to know that he was on an open frequency? And – as he pointed out to his unofficial work partner, over the still-broadcasting-to-all-and-sundry radio – why hadn't Fraser noticed that? He noticed every damn thing else.

          And what the hell was he doing providing the perp with candy??

          No, Ray didn't care that the kid was sick. No, he didn't care that Fraser cared the kid was sick; the kid was gonna be a darn sight sicker when Ray hauled his sorry ass down to the station.

          He was gonna be a whole lot sicker when the drugs wore off and he realised he'd been arrested for attempted grand theft auto and possession of an unlicensed weapon with intent to shoot someone.

          Maybe shoot someone... perhaps.

          If the gun had been loaded.

          Okay, so yeah, he could have checked earlier...

          Despite what the Mountie said, Ray would make sure that Fraser wouldn't be feeling too good, either. Welsh could say what he liked; he'd not been there.

          The doctor said the kid was okay. Ray hadn't stuck around to hear the 'now, thanks to the Constable's prompt and appropriate action' that trailed behind him.

          Elaine had ignored him anyway, so she couldn't be too upset about his outburst. Francesca always took Fraser's side against her brother, so anything she said could be taken with a pinch of salt. A sack of salt.

          No. Fraser had been way out of line; he'd attempted to interfere with an arrest and he'd almost made it possible for the kid to escape.

          Ray pulled no punches in letting him know. He didn't stick round for long enough to see that, as his talent for keeping tight-lipped under pressure momentarily eluded him, everyone else in the office got to know it, too.

          However, Ray was sure that they'd spoken later without arguing, and Benny had accepted his offer of a ride home...

          Ray came to a halt on pace seven. Oh, dear.

          The Italian itched all over as all the hairs on his skin suddenly stood on end. Strangely ironic how a judiciously placed 'oh, dear' in this situation proved so much more expressive than any amount of colourful language he might have been able to come up with, had he been able to think beyond the next step and what might happen to him after he took it.

          His foot, which had hovered an inch or two above the bare wooden floor, finally came to rest on pace eight and Ray stood at what he had come to know as parade rest. He swallowed. Oh, dear.

          So, Fraser was going to lock him in a dark room and order him about a bit. Well, okay, the idea had some merit; at least Fraser was locked in the same dark room and there was the distinct possibility that one of the orders would be 'strip me and fuck me stupid.'

          Ray smiled as he felt the edge of the bed against his legs. "Yeah," he thought "I might just go along with it." His balls were throbbing and his palms had begun to sweat. He rubbed his hands down his thighs.

          "What are you doing?" Fraser demanded.

          There was a short silence and Ray cleared his throat tentatively. "Uh..."

          "You may speak."

          "Well, thank you kindly," Ray muttered under his breath.

          "You're very welcome," came the quiet reply.

          Ray blushed, thankful that his embarrassment was invisible. He'd forgotten that Fraser could hear a mouse sneeze half a light-year away. "My palms are sweating."

          "You were not asked if there was a problem. You were asked what you were doing."

          "I'm rubbing the sweat off my palms," Ray could not keep the sarcasm from his voice.

          "Do you have permission to do so?"

          "No," Ray answered, sounding to his chagrin like a petulant adolescent. The realisation made him feel uncomfortable; if this was how he'd been behaving all week, then it was quite possible Fraser was going to bundle him into his father's trunk and have him shipped off to Tuktoyaktuk.

          "Hey," he thought "I actually got it right this time." The Italian stuck his tongue out towards where he figured Fraser was, although he knew the gesture was as pointless as it was petty.

          Fraser obviously thought so, too. "You seem to have forgotten that I have very keen eyesight. Hold out your hands, please."

          Ray lifted his arms slowly, half afraid of getting his knuckles rapped with a ruler. He was sorely tempted to grab his lover and shake him until his teeth rattled. Instead, his hands were held in a grip just short of painful to be closely examined; he could feel Fraser's warm breath on his skin.

          Then he felt something else, hot and wet on his fingertips; Ray forced his knees to lock as he felt Fraser's mouth close around each of his fingers in turn, gently licking and sucking them, finally turning his attention to Ray's offending palms and licking them until he was satisfied they were quite clean.

          Well, apparently he was satisfied. Ray didn't much care; he was beginning to feel light-headed as his blood rushed into his groin. Damn! but if Fraser's mouth on any part of his body didn't just make him want to get down on his knees and beg – in the same whimpering, pathetic, big-eyed, drooling tongue-hanging-out-of-the-mouth way that Diefenbaker begged for chocolate – beg to be fucked until he couldn't stand up.

          Obviously it wasn't just the wolf that required a muzzle. The wolf's master did, too.

          Ray let out a whimper as he tried desperately not to visualise that last thought.

          He flinched at the sound of tearing tape, although he was hugely grateful for the timely distraction.

          Abruptly, his left hand was released and the right one was encased in a glove which was secured at the wrist with the tape. The procedure was repeated with his left hand.

          Fraser stepped behind him and ran his hands up Ray's arms and across his back, finally taking hold of the collar of the cashmere coat and easing it gently over Ray's shoulders.

          Having hung the coat in the closet, Fraser stepped close to Ray's back, his hands reaching under the Italian's arms to unbutton the jacket he wore, removing it with the same care as the coat.

          As Ray frowned behind the slumber mask, he felt his lover's warm hands through the cool silk of the shirt he wore. His frown disappeared as nimble fingers flicked open buttons and slid over his skin. A low moan escaped him and instantly Fraser's hands withdrew.

          Ray sucked in a sharp breath. "Benny... please... don't stop... that felt so good... I won't make another sound, I promise."

          Without acknowledging Ray's obvious panic, Fraser picked up a length of cloth that had been laid out on the bed. He folded it in half lengthways and twisted the resulting length several times.

          Then, Fraser stepped behind Ray and dropped the length of material over his head. "Open your mouth."

          Ray was far more relieved that Fraser was still in the room than he was concerned at the fact his lover now planned to gag him. After several deep, calming breaths, he did as he was told.

          Fraser secured the gag at the back of Ray's head. "Is that too tight?" he asked, and got a slow shake of the head in response.

          Satisfied that Ray was experiencing no discomfort beyond some embarrassment, Fraser moved to stand in front of his lover. He slowly finished unbuttoning the shirt and pushed it over Ray's shoulders, letting it slide down his arms and pool on the floor at the Italian's feet.

          Kneeling, he unbuttoned and unzipped Ray's pants and pulled both them and the Italian's underwear down the man's long legs. "Lift your left foot," he demanded, slipping the loafer off and pulling the bunched material away as Ray did so.

          Ray was now standing in nothing more than a pair of gloves, a slumber mask, a gag and Fraser's lanyard.

          The other thing that surprised him was the fact that he wasn't cold. Normally, stripping off in Benny's apartment was risking hypothermia. He put it down to his pounding heart and elevated blood pressure.

          It wasn't just his blood pressure that was elevated. Ray was glad he couldn't see what he looked like, because he doubted he could live both with himself, and the picture he suspected he'd have seared into his memory.

          "Do you know why you are here?"

          There was a pause before Ray answered. "No," he lied, his voice muffled by the gag. He shook his head.

          "Allow me to elucidate," Fraser responded politely, as he began walking in a wide circle around his lover to help his thought processes.

          "It is most unfortunate that the situation regarding your unwillingness to actually hear the words I say – rather than simply hear the sounds of the words as they enter your ears – has led me to take such action.

          "However, I am forced by such unwillingness on your part to admit that I myself am no longer willing to remain submissive in our now far-too-frequent discussions concerning your attitude towards the greater proportion of everything I say."

          The other benefit of walking round Ray was that it appeared to be confusing the Italian.

          "It seems to be your belief that your inclination to repeatedly dismiss my opinions is nothing more than a consequence of you being unable to come to terms with the differences in our respective temperaments. No doubt this belief is sincerely held, but the assumptions on which I believe it to be based are flawed.

          "You appear to be labouring under the misapprehension that it is possible to insult, repeatedly and with impunity, both my heritage and my person on the basis that I will remain forever impervious to such insults."

          Fraser walked up to Ray and spoke directly into his left ear. "I feel it only right and proper to point out that this is not the case." He allowed himself a grin as Ray recovered from the shock. "Time and again this week, your ability to listen to me has been indirectly proportional to your ability to understand what I have said.

          "If I were asked to swear in a court of law that no, it has not annoyed me really, it should not come as any surprise to anyone if I were to be instantly found guilty of perjury."

          Ray swallowed. Whatever Fraser was telling him, it was undoubtedly the truth. It simply remained for Ray to decode it.

          "I do not accept that the variations between American-English and Canadian-English are extreme enough to require that you carry a dictionary to assist in translating my words. You have known me for long enough, and you know me well enough by now, to no longer require an interpreter."

          Fraser moved to stand in front of Ray, close but not touching. "Your observation earlier, that it is not always necessary to use words to convey a thought, or a message, or a desire, was most astute. Indeed, it was that observation that has led, ultimately, to your current situation.

          "I know that you can hear me. I know that your breathing has not been impaired by the gag. I also know that you are able to feel my touch on your skin." Fraser slowly walked around his lover. "However, you will be unable to experience the sensation of touch through your own fingers.

          You cannot see my face so you can only form an opinion as to how I am feeling by listening to my words. You cannot speak to question me on my choice of words, so you will have to listen carefully to how I say them."

          He moved closer, still not touching, and began to speak very softly.

          "I'm looking at your face... your cheeks are flushed... your lips are slightly parted... your breathing is becoming more rapid... there's a faint smell of chocolate on your breath... I can taste it as I kiss you... your mouth opens a little more... our tongues touch... your whole body is taut with anticipation...

          "Your blood is pulsing fast and hard... I trace a path with the tip of my tongue... from your chest... above your heart... through the soft hairs to where the skin is smoother... across your shoulders... slowly up your neck... your skin feels rough against my tongue... I can feel the blood surging through your body..."

          Ray whimpered as Fraser's tongue reached the pulse point in his neck, oblivious to the fact that his lover had not laid a finger on him.

          The Italian shuddered as Fraser continued his monologue.

          "I've moved to stand behind you... the skin behind your ear is soft... I run my tongue along the back of your neck... your head drops forward... you want me to move closer to you... you want me to press up against you.... to feel the heat of my body on yours...

          "You want it so much... I want you to want it so much that I can taste it on your skin... hear it in your breathing... I run my tongue down your spine... your head raises as you arch your back... I catch the bead of sweat that runs down your spine... salty and warm... you're trembling... turn around..."

          Ray's feet shuffled hesitantly on the floor as he complied with Fraser's barely audible request. His hands briefly moved as he checked his balance.

          Fraser resumed speaking to his lover. "I run my tongue across the inside of your wrist... lick the smooth skin of your forearm... taste the sweat... your fingers curl behind my head.

          "I kiss your chest... touch the tip of my tongue to your firm nipples... lick your belly... the scent of your arousal is intoxicating... I kiss your feet... lick them from the toes to the ankle... suckle on your ankle bone... turn around and spread your legs."

          He paused as Ray obeyed. "I trace the outline of your calf muscles with my tongue... kiss the back of your knee... run my tongue up the back of your thigh..

          ".. between your buttocks... to the base of your spine.. catch the bead of sweat there... turn around... I can see how hard you are... the head of your penis is swollen... there is a drop of fluid on the tip... I catch it on my tongue... salty and warm..

          "I lower my head to kiss your balls... the skin is wrinkled... I trace the creases with my tongue-tip... from back to front... the skin of your penis is so smooth... your blood surging into it... making it hard..."

          Ray was visibly shaking; Fraser smiled and moved to kneel very close to his side, breathing the words against his skin.

          "My tongue runs along the underside of your penis... swirls around the head... you inhale sharply as I close my mouth around you... you exhale as you feel the warmth of my mouth on you... around you... my tongue tasting you... licking you.

          "My teeth scrape over the delicate skin... you inhale at the sensation... I move my head back... you feel the cold on the exposed skin of your penis and you shudder... you want it so much you can taste it... I can taste it in my mouth... so hot... your pulse is racing... you are so close... I move my head forward... smell you..

          ".. feel the sweat that trickles down your belly onto my forehead... I hear you gasp for breath... you come in my mouth... your essence warm on my tongue... your breathing harsh in my ears... my mouth is filled with you... all I can taste is you... all I can hear is you... all I can feel is you... all I want to touch... is you... all I want to see when I open my eyes... is you..."

          There was a muffled cry as Ray orgasmed. Fraser watched the blood-hot opaque liquid spurt from his lover, splattering onto the floor in gleaming droplets, and smiled.

          Ray wanted to collapse, preferably before he melted. He stood quivering as the gloves were removed from his hands.

          The gag was untied and taken out of his mouth; a finger to his lips stopped him from saying whatever few syllables he might have been able to string together.

          Finally, the mask was removed, Fraser's other hand touching fingertips to Ray's eyes to prevent them opening.

          "Show me that you heard me," Fraser said, his voice low and rough. He moved his hand from Ray's face and watched the Italian's green eyes flicker open. "Show me," he breathed.

          Ray blinked into the relative brightness of the room. As his eyes began to adjust, he could see the drapes at the windows. He focused his gaze on the face less than a foot from his own; the look of unmitigated satisfaction he saw was almost overwhelmed by the naked lust. He opened his mouth to speak.

          Fraser shook his head. "Show me," he said again, this time with a tone of ordering.

          Ray swallowed. He looked at his lover's face, took in the slight flush across his cheeks and the passion in his eyes. His gaze fell to Fraser's mouth; lips moist and slightly parted.

          Ray moved in for a kiss, feeling his lover's warm breath on his face. As their lips met, Ray's hands went up to Fraser's face, holding him there. Before the kiss could deepen, Ray abruptly pulled away and stared at his lover in astonishment.

          Fraser's eyes had opened even before Ray had realised what had happened. He met the confused gaze levelly. "You may speak."

          "You didn't touch me," Ray said, in the manner of a statement rather than a question. "It felt like you touched me, but you just talked to me." His eyes searched Fraser's face for confirmation... denial, amusement, anything. "You made me cum just by talking to me."

          "No," Fraser corrected him. "You listened."

          Ray's eyes narrowed. He was prevented from saying anything in response as Fraser kissed him deeply.

          As they parted for breath, Ray hoped that the look he gave his lover managed to convey the message he did not have the words to say. His fingers trembled as he unbuttoned Fraser's shirt and pulled it over the wide shoulders.

          Kneeling on the end of the bed, he tugged on the belt of Fraser's jeans to pull his lover close enough that he could simultaneously take the jeans off and kiss the smooth skin of his chest.

          He licked and nibbled his way to Fraser's left shoulder, across to the other shoulder and up the column of his throat; Ray smiled to himself as he detected the faint taste of soap on the freshly-shaved skin.

          This was typical of Fraser; he knew just how to press all of Ray's buttons and the feel of his lover's smooth flesh – a perfect complement to his more hirsute skin – was one that the Italian could never have pressed too often.

          Ray heard a low moan from Fraser as his mouth grazed over warm flesh, stopping to suck at the juncture between neck and shoulder. Without breaking contact, Ray moved from the bed to stand behind his lover.

          He planted kisses across the back of Fraser's neck, licking and sucking his way down the beautifully straight spine until he reached the scar that marred its perfection, and he hesitated.

          Fraser's hand touched his face. Ray clasped his hand over his lover's, pressed a passionate kiss on the fading wound and Fraser's back arched under his touch. Without releasing the hand, Ray turned his attention to the silky skin on the inside of his lover's wrist.

          Fraser's fingers curled around Ray's head and the Italian moved his mouth to his lover's belly. The muscles under the skin were taut, hard under Ray's questing tongue. Down into the mass of dark curls, Ray pressed his face against Fraser's thighs, inhaling the musky scent of his lover.

          Hesitating again, but only for a second, Ray knelt down and put his mouth to his lover's feet. He followed the route Fraser's words had taken, never breaking contact between his tongue and his lover's body, until he was on his knees with Fraser's throbbing penis level with his mouth.

           Ray looked up. Fraser was looking at him, although Ray wondered whether or not he was actually seeing. The Italian cleared his throat and watched his lover's eyes come slowly into focus.

          "You may speak," came the whisper from Fraser's dry throat.

          "I want to suck you off," Ray said with a good deal more certainty than his expression showed. "Do I... um..." – he faltered – "... do you... uh," and finally shuddered to a halt. He looked at the floor and closed his eyes.

          "Do you need my permission?" Fraser offered.

          Ray glanced up. "Do I?"

          "Yes, you do."

          Ray took several deep breaths and stared at the floor. He couldn't say the words, even with the incentive standing naked in front of him. He shook his head, then looked up to find Fraser kneeling in front of him, looking concerned.

          "What is it?" Fraser asked.

          Ray bit his lower lip and then shook his head again. He looked thoroughly miserable.

          Fraser dropped a quick kiss on the top of his lover's head. "Ray, talk to me. This has something to do what happened with earlier, hasn't it?" He looked up at the ceiling and then at the floor. "I should have sensed that something was wrong," he said, mainly to himself. "Ray," he looked up at the Italian, "I'm sorry."

          Ray kissed Fraser's chin. "One day," he said "I'm gonna work out how many times you've said that to me since we met."

          Fraser pulled back, looking confused. "What would be the point of that?"

          Ray sighed, pushing a stray curl from his lover's forehead. "None at all, Benny," he murmured. "No point at all." The Italian slumped back on his heels and stared glumly at the floor between his knees. "Y'know, Benny, to be honest with you, it's been so long since I used the safe word, I can't even remember what it is. Ironic, huh? You could just've carried on and I'd not've been able to do a thing to stop you." He smiled faintly. "Not that you would, though. You'd rather say it for me than risk goin' within a mile of that line."

          Fraser watched him for a while. "You don't have to ask, Ray," he said softly.

          Ray raised his head but he wouldn't meet his lover's eyes. "Y'know, if... if I thought about it... if I just stopped thinkin' that everythin' you said to me was some sort of... I dunno, some kinda threat, and actually thought about it like you think about things, I'd know that I did haveta ask."

          At that, Ray looked up. "An' there's a whole bunch of other stuff, too. I spend so much time orderin' you around, talking over things you say, completely ignoring things you say, interrupting you, dissin' you in front of people...

          "I guess I never stopped doin' any of those things for long enough to realise that I do them, an' everyone... everyone 'cept you... notices and, despite the fact that I keep actin' like a total jerk, the only person who never complains about it is you."

          "Ray, part of loving someone is accepting everything they are."

          Ray shook his head. "No, Benny. I know you love me, and I know you accept me for the insensitive jerk I can be, but I guess I didn't really get until now that I've been tryin' to avoid accepting you for everythin' you are."

          Fraser raised an eyebrow. "You did once call me the most annoying man in the world."

          "Yeah, and you can be. Don't think I'm givin' up the right to remind you, either."

          "I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing," Fraser said reassuringly. He reached out a hand to tip Ray's head up and looked solemnly into his lover's eyes. "It was never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable."

          "So tell me, Benny. What's all this been about then?"

          "Getting you to listen to me. Just... just listen to what I was saying. To hear the words rather than just the sounds. To try to prove to you that not everything I tell you is something you never really wanted to know."

          Ray looked embarrassed. "Yeah. So what was with the mask and gloves and stuff?"

          "I wanted to eliminate as many distractions as I could. Taking away some of the senses has the effect of heightening the others. By temporarily depriving you of your senses of sight and touch, your hearing became more acute and it became more likely that you'd not only hear what I was saying but how I was saying it, which is just as important."

          "Why the gag?" Ray countered.

          Fraser looked at his lover as if he'd just announced the sky was blue.

          "You wouldn't shut up, Ray." He rubbed his thumb along his eyebrow. "It's nothing that we've not done before, it's just that we were doing it in a different setting, for a different reason."

          "Different to me tying you down and tormenting you?"

          "Believe me, talking you to orgasm without touching you is torment enough. You have no idea how many times I had to step back to stop myself from dragging you to the bed and making love to you."

          "Why didn't you then?"

          "Because... because I had convinced myself... "

          "Y'know Benny..."

          "Let me finish, Ray. I had become convinced that our frequent disagreements were mainly my fault..."

          "I wouldna complained, Benny..."

          "Ray, please... I felt I had to prove to myself that I hadn't lost the ability to communicate..."

          "I'da not said one thing to stop you, Benny..."

          "Ray, just shut up."

          Ray looked suitably chastised. Fraser eyed him suspiciously. "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt that you feel as contrite as you look."

          "I do," Ray nodded, serious now.

          "I had to reassure myself that I still had the ability to communicate with you," Fraser continued.

          "Not only the feelings I have for you and how I see our relationship, but also the trivial things and the dull things and the boring-but-vital things. It's been very difficult recently because you have apparently perceived everything I have said as a personal attack.

          "Whenever you spoke to me, I listened. When you shouted at me, I listened. I even listened when you insulted me. However, I have been very aware this week that, no matter what I said to you, you either didn't hear me or you appeared to be misinterpreting my words.

          "I had to know whether it was something I was or wasn't doing."

          Ray was silent for a while, occasionally stroking the hand that his lover had rested on his thigh. Eventually, he took a deep breath and sat back on his heels, looking Fraser straight in the eye. "Affenpinscher," he said with a wry smile.

          Fraser looked blank. "Excuse me?"

          "Maybe I just need someone to stop me gettin' into trouble," Ray said, embarrassed now. "Kinda maybe shorten my leash now and then, huh?" he said hesitantly, trying to smile.

          He reluctantly made eye contact when Fraser tipped his chin up. "Benny, I want you so bad... I can taste it," he breathed. "Can we talk about this some more later?"

          Fraser cupped his lover's face and kissed him. "Of course."

          "Y'know," Ray grinned "you can stand up now, if you wanna."

          Fraser extricated himself from his lover's loose embrace and stood, gazing down into the upturned face. "I envy you your eyes, Ray. They're beautiful."

          Ray's face flushed red. "If you can make me understand me as well as you do, you can have 'em," he flashed a grin and then his expression grew serious. "Benny..." he hesitated only briefly before continuing with neither uncertainty nor embarrassment. "May I have your permission to suck you off?"

          "Not just yet," Fraser reached down to take Ray's hands and pull him to stand. He pulled the lanyard over Ray's head and dropped it on the floor by the bed.

          Then he wrapped his arms around the Italian, kissing his lover's mouth passionately, moving from there to suck on the warm skin of Ray's neck, punctuating his words with kisses along the Italian's right shoulder.

          "I should point out, Ray... that it is impossible... given even the incredible procedures that are currently routinely performed by the leading exponents of ophthalmic surgery... that the process of transplanting an entire eyeball... from one person... to another... is probably beyond any such experts' ability."

          Ray pulled back from his lover and stared, open-mouthed. He was rewarded with a look of pure animal lust and a kiss that took his breath away.

          "Benny..." Ray struggled to find his voice. How could anyone make something that was – right at this very moment in time – as intrinsically mind-numbing as it was wholly inappropriate, sound like the best of Ovid's erotic poetry?

          Fraser moved to kiss and suck his lover's other shoulder. "Mm-hmm... for argument's sake... let's put to one side... for the moment... the fact that it is probably... beyond even the most cutting-edge technology to... shall we say, swap?... one person's eyes... with another and have... both donor... and recipient...

          "Mmm... perhaps the term donor... slash... recipient is more accurate... seeing as both individuals are both giving... and receiving... organs..."

          "Fraser..." Ray pleaded. He'd been running his fingers through his lover's dark hair and on the last word of that sentence had very nearly pulled out an entire handful.

          "Mm-hmm... to be able to swap... eyes with another person... and retain one's vision... would indeed... be nothing short... of a miracle."

          Fraser moved to stand behind Ray, having kissed his mouth once more and allowed himself a smile at his lover's bewildered expression.

           "To address... the other question... of being able to obtain... a better understanding... of oneself... from another... one would need to take... a far broader overview... of methods currently employed... in both mainstream... and alternative... medicine... to explore both... the body's psychological... and physiological processes..."

          "Benny, please..." Ray whimpered. It was a pathetic, big-eyed, drooling tongue-hanging-out-of-the-mouth whimper.

          "Mm-hmmm?... not to mention... the plethora... of healing arts... practised... for many generations... by communities who have limited... or indeed... no access to what... you and I... might consider... mainstream... medicine..."

          Ray closed his eyes and leaned against his lover's chest. "Don't do this to me..."

          "Mm-hmmm... and which have proved... to be both equally valid... and equally as effective... as modern... methods of curing... ailments that are... either externally caused..."

          "Please, Benny, you can't..." Ray fell silent as a hand went over his mouth.

          "Mmm-hmmm... as in, say... the common cold... or are of... internal origin... such as a chemical imbalance... that might cause... depression or maybe... for example... the young man... you apprehended today... an insufficiency.."

          Fraser moved around his lover and took the Italian's face in his hands, murmuring the words against his mouth between kisses.

          ".. or indeed... a surfeit... of any substance... in one's body... that... if unchecked... gives rise... to a physical.. problem... such as... priapism..."

          Ray turned his head to the side. "Prior what?"

          Fraser stepped back from Ray and smiled.

          "Oh, wow," Ray's eyes raked over Fraser's body, devouring the sight of him. "I knew I was here for a reason."

          "It's taken you..." Fraser looked at the clock next to the bed, "ninety... eight minutes and...oh, who cares... far too long." He wrapped Ray into his embrace again. "Come to bed."

          Ray pushed his lover backwards onto the cool linen. "Well, now you've let me off the leash, Benny," he gazed down at the man under him "I think I'd like to curl up on the bed with a nice juicy bone."

          "Ray, just how far do you intend taking the canine metaphor?" Fraser asked, as the Italian crawled over him.

          Ray pulled himself back upright. "Oh, I dunno, maybe about eight inches," he smiled, dangling Fraser's lanyard over the Mountie's face. "Now be a good boy and roll over."

          Fraser closed his eyes. "That has to be the most..."

          "For the love of God, Benny," Ray whined "if the next sound I hear from you ain't a full-blooded howl, I ain't gonna be responsible for my actions."

          Fraser obediently fell silent, closing his eyes in anticipation, as Ray's mouth descended on his.

          As they parted for breath, the temptation proved just too much for Fraser to resist. "Hershey's..." he breathed, waiting until his lover's head lifted and two green eyes gleamed wickedly at him.

          "You were warned, Fraser..." Ray began.

          Fraser pushed the Italian over onto his back. "With nuts, Ray," he smiled, seizing his lover's throbbing balls with one hand. "Now I believe there was mention made of an hour spent indulging me?" With his free hand, Fraser reached to pinch Ray's nipples. "Even if you never listen to me," he smiled "let me assure you that I hang on your every word."

          He moved to straddle Ray's legs, keeping his gaze locked on the green eyes he loved so much. "However, if at any point you find yourself beyond coherent speech, a full-blooded howl will suffice." Fraser dipped his head down and closed his mouth around the glistening head of his lover's hard cock.

          Ray howled.