Scratch Scratch by Callie Author's Website: http://www.geocities.com/callinuk Disclaimer: Due South and all of its characters belong to Alliance Communications. Author's Notes: Views to: Cal18@usa.net Story Notes: OK Corrinne - this is for you - not a sad story but a silly one! Enjoy. Dressed in neatly pressed dark blue jeans, a light green shirt and a brown leather jacket, Fraser strolled into the 27th precinct, Diefenbaker at his heels. Inspector Thatcher had forced him to take two weeks of his accumulated vacation time, and he had come to see if Ray would like to join him for lunch. Fraser couldn't help grinning foolishly to himself as he thought about Ray; they had been living together for nine months, deliriously happy and hopelessly in love with one another. Their love for each other seemed to grow deeper and stronger with each passing day, and for the first time in as long as Fraser could remember he was happy and content. They had both been desperately lonely, and had sought refuge in each other's company, their firm friendship gradually turning to love. Building their relationship on the solid ground of friendship, loyalty, respect and love for each other, they had committed themselves to one another, and Fraser knew without a doubt that he and Ray would grow old together. So far, by some miracle, they had managed to keep their altered relationship private; as far as their friends and colleagues were concerned, Fraser had moved into Ray's second bedroom explaining that it was no longer appropriate for him to live in his office at the Consulate. Fraser grinned again; the second bedroom remained empty housing only his clothes and uniforms in the small closet and drawers. The small bed remained untouched and unslept in as every night he happily snuggled up with Ray in the large double bed in the master bedroom. The usual noise and bustle of the squad room hit him as he pushed the doors open; Diefenbaker ran ahead seeking out his favourite American, who was sitting at his desk, head down concentrating on his paperwork. "Hiya Ben," Ray looked up smiling as he ruffled Diefenbaker's furry head. The wolf whined in pleasure as he disappeared under the desk to lie across Ray's feet. Good morning Ray," Fraser smiled back sitting down in his usual chair in front of Ray's desk. He studied Ray carefully - he looked tired and his usually pale cheeks were flushed pink. "Are you alright?" Fraser asked immediately concerned. "Yeah," Ray replied looking back down at his untidy desk. "I'm fine." "Are you sure?" Fraser persisted shuffling his chair closer to the desk putting a hand on the desk to get Ray's attention. "You don't look fine." "Ben," Ray risked touching Fraser's hand lightly stroking the smooth skin softly. "I'm good. Don't fuss." "But I'm allowed to fuss Ray," Fraser said lowering his voice. "You are? How come?" Ray smiled, his fingers still absently stroking Fraser's hand. "Well, I am allowed to fuss," Fraser replied smirking, squeezing Ray's hand before removing it from the desk. "Because I love you." "Love ya too," Ray whispered. "Just a bit tired that's all. Nothing to worry about. OK?" "Understood," Fraser smiled trying to sound convincing, already deciding that he was going to keep a close eye on Ray for the remainder of the day. "So what ya doing with yer vacation?" Ray quickly changed the subject in an effort to distract the Mountie, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop Fraser keeping an eye on him. Ray didn't want Fraser worrying so he kept quiet about the terrible headache that was making his eyes hurt, and the fact that he felt sick, hot and ached all over. He smiled at Fraser as a warm feeling bubbled up inside him at the thought of someone caring for him again. "So after I left this morning, did ya stay in bed until late?" Ray asked. "No Ray. Our bed's lonely without you," Fraser grinned as Ray seemed to blush slightly. "I have spent the morning cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. I then did the laundry and the grocery shopping." "Ben," Ray protested. "Ya don't have to do any of that. Yer on vacation. And yer meant to rest and relax. Not do the laundry or the shopping. And definitely not clean everything in sight." "I know," Fraser answered. "But I find cleaning your...," he paused as Ray shot him a dirty look. "Our," Fraser quickly corrected. "Apartment relaxing, and then I was at a loose end so did the laundry and shopping. And anyway," Fraser seemed to pout. "I wanted to. I want to do things for us. I like doing things for us." Ray beamed at Fraser loving him a bit more, wondering if it was possible to love Fraser any more than he already did. "So does this cleaning spree of yers mean I won't be able to find anything now?" Ray groaned in mock irritation. "And I bet our refrigerator is full... of," he pulled a face. "Healthy stuff." "Oh don't worry," Fraser teased grinning. "I have left your desk and closet in their usual state of disarray. And although it was very difficult, I even forced myself to purchase some junk food." "Thank you kindly," Ray mimicked smiling. "So what yer doing here?" "I missed you," Fraser flushed slightly at the confession. "And thought I would come and treat you to lunch." "Oh Ben," Ray sighed. "I gotta finish up all this paperwork," he waved at hand at his untidy desk. "And Welsh wants it done by tonight or he's gonna shoot me." "I'll help," Fraser offered picking up a file. "We can get the work done quicker. Then we can go to dinner later. And Lieutenant Welsh won't have to shoot you." "No," Ray snatched the file from Fraser's hand. "Yer on vacation. Ya don't have to help." Fraser calmly took the file back from Ray. "But I want to help," he whispered, his voice husky. "And if I help you, it means I can be near you." Ray sat back in his chair quietly regarding Fraser, who smiled at him, his eyes twinkling with affection - he was using the smile that melted Ray's heart, the one he saved for Ray alone. Ray couldn't help smiling back at Fraser as the warm feeling bubbled up inside him again. "OK. I give up," he sighed defeated. "You can help." "Thank you kindly," Fraser smirked triumphantly. "I'll get us something to drink," Fraser got to his feet patting his pocket. "Don't worry, I came prepared. I have some of your candy with me." Ray grinned up at Fraser. "Boy. I sure got lucky when you came into my life." "As did I, Ray," Fraser smiled back as he moved towards the door. He took a deep breath as Francesca Vecchio approached him. "Good morning Francesca," Fraser nodded politely. "Hi Frase," she brushed up against him smiling. "How are you today?" "I am very well," Fraser replied. "Thank you kindly." "Good," she grinned seductively as she turned walking towards Ray's desk. "See ya later Frase." Ray closed his eyes for a moment, suddenly feeling weary, rubbing the fingers of one hand across his forehead trying to ease the pain in his head. "Come on. Snap outta it Kowalski," he thought to himself. "Ya don't want Ben fussing over you all day." "Ray," Francesca snapped making Ray open his eyes slowly. "What do you call this?" she waved a piece of paper under his nose. Ray focused his aching eyes on the piece of paper. "I give up Frannie," he said wearily. "What is it?" "Well it's a half filled out report form," Francesca folded her arms in irritation glaring at Ray. "Oh and surprise surprise it's from Mr. I Hate Paperwork himself. You to be exact," she slammed the paper on his desk. "I can't enter this into the computer unless it's all filled out properly. And you haven't done it right as usual." "OK Frannie. Don't bust anything," Ray stood up. "It aint the end of the world. I'll do it later OK?" Ray felt suddenly dizzy, and the room appeared to spin as his vision blurred. Ray's head pounded in pain making him feel sick, and he grabbed for the edge of his desk in a effort to stay on his feet. Through the fog, Ray could vaguely hear Francesca still shouting at him about his lack of paperwork skills, but her voice sounded distant and muffled. Ray released his death-grip on the desk intending to follow Fraser to the break room to escape from Francesca, but he couldn't make his legs co-operate and his knees buckled. Ray thought he heard Francesca shout his name, and he dimly felt himself hitting the floor as the darkness closed in around him. Fraser was entering the squad room, a cup in either hand as he heard Francesca's shout. He looked up in time to see Ray hitting the floor in a dead faint. Placing the cups on the nearest desk, Fraser hurried over towards Ray. Diefenbaker was at Ray's side, licking at his flushed face, whining quietly. With a reassuring pat to Diefenbaker's head, Fraser knelt beside a worried looking Francesca. Fraser turned Ray onto his side as he checked his breathing relieved to find it deep and even. Ray's face was still flushed and Fraser placed the back of his hand on Ray's forehead - it was hot and sweaty. "What happened?" he asked glancing sideways at Francesca as he removed his jacket, rolled it up and placed it gently under Ray's head. "I was just talking to him about paperwork. And next thing I knew he was on the floor," Francesca explained. "Will he be OK?" her voice filled with concern. "Yes Francesca. Don't worry," Fraser murmured gently stroking his hand down Ray's face. "I'm sure he'll be fine. He seems to have just fainted." Concentrating on Ray, Fraser didn't notice the strange look Francesca gave him as he continued to gently caress Ray's face. Ray mumbled as he began to regain consciousness. Opening his eyes, Ray focused on a worried looking Fraser, who was leaning over him stroking his face gently. He tried to sit up, but Fraser placed a hand on his chest pushing him gently back to the floor. "Lie still for a moment Ray," Fraser instructed. Ray smiled weakly as he closed his eyes again, his head still pounding in pain. Lieutenant Welsh returned to the squad room following a meeting with the Mayor's Office. Curious, he moved towards the group gathered around Ray's desk, alarmed to see the younger man laying on the floor being tended to by Fraser. "Right all of you back to work," Welsh instructed gruffly. As his detectives filed past him, Welsh turned to Fraser. "Constable. You might like to bring him into my office. He'll be more comfortable there." Turning to Francesca. "Miss Vecchio. You go and get some water." Francesca nodded getting up from the floor and hurrying towards the break room. Welsh watched as Fraser gently and easily lifted Ray into his arms as though he weighed nothing. Diefenbaker at his side, Fraser carried Ray towards the office. The lieutenant retrieved Fraser's jacket from the floor before following the two men into his office. Fraser set Ray carefully down on the Lieutenant's couch. Diefenbaker sat close to Ray casting anxious glances up at his friend as he placed his nose on Ray's knees. Closing the door behind them, Welsh studied the two men in front of him. Not that he would admit it to either of the men, but Welsh was extremely fond of Ray and Fraser, and had guessed about their changed relationship. They both seemed less lonely - much happier and content, and he respected their privacy and the fact that they kept their working relationship strictly professional. He doubted that anyone else knew about their relationship, but as he watched the two men interact, the love was unshielded and laid open for anyone who looked closely enough to see. Ray was sitting up leaning against Fraser, his head resting on the Mountie's shoulder, eyes still closed. Fraser was gently rubbing his back whispering soothing words. They seemed lost in their own world; their love surrounded them, protecting them from the outside - sometimes cruel - world. Francesca burst into the office, a glass of water in hand, and Welsh had to suppress a chuckle at the wide-eyed expression that appeared on her face as she stared at Ray and Fraser. "Here," she shoved the glass under Fraser's nose. "Thank you kindly Francesca," Fraser took the offered glass with his free hand, not removing his other hand from rubbing at Ray's back. "Is he OK?" Francesca stammered. "Yes," Fraser replied not looking at Francesca, his attention focused solely on Ray. "I'm sure he'll be fine." "Thank you Miss Vecchio," Welsh jerked his head towards the door. Francesca nodded in understanding; taking a final look at Ray and Fraser, she left the office closing the door quietly behind her. "Do you want a drink of water?" Fraser asked Ray softly. Ray shook his head opening his eyes. "Feel kinda sick," he mumbled. Welsh narrowed his eyes moving closer to the two men. "Kowalski," he asked. "How long have ya had this rash?" he touched the base of Ray's neck lightly. "What rash?" Ray shook his head looking up at the lieutenant confused. "I aint got a rash." Fraser turned to study the angry red rash that had appeared just below the neckline of Ray's t-shirt. Fraser frowned; he hadn't noticed the rash before. Moving swiftly ignoring Ray's protests, Fraser pulled the back of Ray's t-shirt up to reveal that the usually pale skin was covered in small red coloured blisters. "Oh dear," he said looking up at a smirking Welsh. "What?" Ray asked wearily, his head still pounding in pain. He leaned it back against Fraser's shoulder. "Varicella," Fraser stifled a chuckle pulling Ray's t-shirt back down. "I tend to agree," Welsh laughed as he sat down behind his desk. "Vermicelli?" Ray asked his brain muddled from the pain. "Aint that something to do with chocolate?" "No Ray," Fraser chuckled. "Varicella is the primary infection of the varicellazoster virus, which is a member of the herpes family ...." "Frase," Ray lifted his head from Fraser's shoulder waving his hand interrupting the Mountie's explanation. "In English. Head hurts here." "Chicken pox," Fraser grinned at the Lieutenant who was still chuckling. "What?" Ray's eyes widened. "But that's a kid's disease. Ya gotta be kidding?" "No," Fraser replied. "As you know. I never kid." "It's definitely chicken pox Kowalski," Welsh confirmed. "Both my kids had it." Ray groaned. "But how?" Fraser screwed his eyes up in thought. "The case on the childrens' homes. We did visit quiet a few. You probably caught it from one of the children." "Oh," Ray murmured laying his head back on Fraser's shoulder again. Welsh studied Ray's pale face carefully, noting also that his usual boundless energy seemed to have deserted him. "Right Constable," Welsh got to his feet realising that the younger man was obviously feeling really ill - he had never known Kowalski to be so quiet and still. "You take Detective Rash," he smirked as Ray managed to shoot him a dirty look. "Home right now. And he's not to come back until," he turned to Fraser. "The rash usually lasts between seven and ten days," Fraser confirmed as he hauled Ray to his feet, supporting him with an arm around his waist. "You are on sick leave for ten days," Welsh turned to Ray. "And no arguments," he waved aside Ray's protests. "I don't wanna see you or yer rash anywhere near here. OK?" "I'll get my jacket," Ray nodded defeated as he made his way slowly out of the office back towards his desk. Diefenbaker followed trotting by his side, glancing upwards occasionally, as Ray made his way through the squad room. Fraser watched anxiously as Ray seemed to sway through the squad room, using desks for balance. "He kinda grows on you, don't he?" Welsh said smiling. Fraser turned his attention to Welsh. "Yes he does Lieutenant," he blushed slightly at the admission, having a distinct feeling that the Lieutenant knew more than he was letting on. Fraser looked back to Ray, who was making his way slowly back to the office, Diefenbaker still at his side. "Try not to worry Constable," Welsh said kindly patting Fraser on the arm. "But keep an eye on him. My son caught chickenpox when he was 25, and was pretty sick for the first couple of days. Chicken pox can hit adults pretty hard." "Don't worry," Fraser smiled at the Lieutenant's obvious concern. "I intend to take good care of him." "I know you will," Welsh grinned. "I'll come visit in a few days." "Thank you kindly," Fraser answered over his shoulder as he moved towards Ray and Diefenbaker. Fraser kept casting anxious glances at Ray as he manoeuvred the GTO carefully through the busy afternoon traffic. Ray was slumped in the passenger seat, leaning back against the head rest, eyes closed. Diefenbaker had his head resting on Ray's shoulder in comfort. "I'm good," Ray murmured as he opened his eyes slowly. His hand found Fraser's, and he squeezed gently in reassurance. "Just gotta headache. I'll be fine once we get home," he squeezed Fraser's hand again. "I know Ray," Fraser squeezed his hand back. "We're nearly home. Then you can go to bed. I'm sure that you'll feel much better after a rest." Diefenbaker barked in agreement and Fraser smiled to himself at the wolf's obvious concern. "Mmmm," Ray sighed. "Ya know I'm one lucky guy to have both of you to look after me," he fondled Diefenbaker's nose affectionately before closing his eyes again. After a quick stop at a local drugstore, Fraser parked the GTO carefully in its usual parking space. He then helped Ray up to their apartment, Diefenbaker following closely at their heels. Once inside, Fraser led Ray to their bedroom making him sit on the edge of the bed. "Sorry," Ray murmured closing his eyes as he let Fraser help him out of his clothes. "What for?" Fraser asked. "It's not your fault that you're ill," he tugged Ray's boots off standing them neatly side by side. He turned his attention to Ray's t-shirt pulling it over his head. "And it's fortunate that I'm here to look after you." "But I wanted ya to have a relaxing vacation," Ray insisted as he lifted up so Fraser could remove his jeans. "Ya work so hard. You deserve a rest. Time to put yer feet up. Watch cartoons." "I can do all of those things, and take care of you at the same time," Fraser said as he pulled back the bed clothes gently pushing Ray backwards. "Alright?" "OK," Ray muttered reluctantly as Fraser covered him with the blankets, tucking him in. Fraser smiled to himself as Diefenbaker jumped onto the bed, and snuggled close to Ray's back. "Good. That's settled then," he sat down on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling now?" Fraser asked as he gently stroked Ray's face and hair, noting that the rash seemed to have become more visible in the last hour. "Head hurts," Ray mumbled, his eyes remaining closed. "And I feel kinda hot." "I purchased some Tylenol, which will help with the fever," Fraser said rummaging in the paper bag he had placed on the floor, producing a small bottle. Fraser rose quickly to fetch a glass from the bathroom. Pouring some liquid into the glass, he helped Ray to sit up slightly so he could drink the medicine. "Urghh," Ray complained pulling a face. "Tastes horrible. You got my candy?" "Medicine is supposed to taste horrible," Fraser chuckled as he settled Ray back under the blankets. "And I think the manufacturers do it on purpose. I also think they are in collusion with the candy companies. There is absolutely no medical or scientific evidence to suggest that a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down," he teased grinning widely. "You mean Mary Poppins lied?" Ray mumbled smiling sleepily up at Fraser. "Yes Ray. I'm afraid so," Fraser leaned forward kissing his forehead lightly. "Now try and get some sleep." "Yes Mum," Ray murmured closing his eyes. "Ben," Ray opened his eyes again suddenly. "Ya still gonna sleep here tonight? With me?" he said, his eyes anxious. "Of course I am sleeping here with you," Fraser smiled down. "Where else would I sleep. I belong here with you.. and your rash," he grinned down at Ray, who pulled a face at him. "Now try and get some rest." Ray nodded sleepily smiling up at Fraser as he closed his eyes snuggling under the blankets. Fraser sat on the edge of the bed gently stroking the blonde unruly hair until he was satisfied that Ray was fast asleep. Fraser moved quietly into the living room, leaving Diefenbaker on guard. Fraser woke with a start as he reached his hand to Ray's side of the bed finding it empty, his fingers brushing against cool sheets. He sat up blinking in the dimness of the room; cocking his head to one side Fraser listened concerned that Ray might be in their small en suite bathroom throwing up the soup he had insisted Ray eat earlier that evening. Lieutenant Welsh had been right - Ray had been really ill for the first two days running a temperature, not being able to eat, and only getting out of bed to run to the bathroom because the headache that he couldn't seem to shake made him feel sick. Not wanting Ray to become dehydrated, Fraser made him take sips of cool water, as well as the Tylenol in an effort to bring his temperature down. Ray had been unlucky - his face, chest and abdomen were completely covered in an angry red rash, the flushed appearance of his usually pale skin making him look like he had stayed in the sun too long. Fraser had felt uncharacteristically helpless, not knowing what to do to help Ray. He had seriously considered dragging him to the emergency room, but the pleading and distressed look on Ray's face when he had suggested it had changed his mind rapidly. Instead, he had settled on hugging Ray close to him until they had both fallen asleep. Fraser had been relieved to find, on waking, that Ray's temperature had dropped dramatically. With the temperature gone, Ray seemed much brighter, his headache disappearing completely, and he appeared to enjoy the soup that Fraser prepared for their supper. Relieved that he couldn't hear Ray in the bathroom, Fraser swung his legs out of bed; pulling on his robe, he padded towards the living room. He leaned on the door frame, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched silently. Completely naked - apart from the calamine lotion Fraser had insisted smearing on the worst of the rash - Ray was pacing up and down the living room talking to himself, waving his arms in the air. Diefenbaker, who hadn't left Ray's side since he had become ill, was lying on one of the chairs watching his friend, his head moving from side to side as Ray passed by him. Fraser suppressed a giggle. "Oh dear," he thought to himself. He had expected that this would happen - guessing that when Ray started to feel better, he would become more aware of the rash and the itching associated with chicken pox. "Ray," Fraser stepped forward as Ray went to scratch his arm. "Ray. Ray," he gently tugged on Ray's arm. "Don't scratch. Scratching the blisters can cause a nasty infection and scarring." "Ben," Ray turned his blotchy, calamine daubed face towards Fraser. "I've got to scratch. If I don't I'm gonna go nuts here," he started to pace up and down again mumbling under his breath. He turned back to Fraser. "My skin is crawling. I feel like... like I'm on fire. Like something is on the inside... inside of my skin, and it's driving me crazy." Ray started to pace again. "And this calamine stuff you painted on me aint helping." "Ray," Fraser said calmly. "Let me see your nails," he held his hands out towards Ray. "What?" Ray turned on Fraser, a look of surprise on his face. "My nails. Ya wanna see my nails? I just tell you that I'm gonna go nuts here, that my skin is crawling, and you," he waved his hands at Fraser. "Wanna give me a manicure." "Ray," Fraser scolded quietly. "Let me see your nails. Please. Just humour me." Ray stopped pacing thrusting his hands towards Fraser. "There. Satisfied," he grumbled as Fraser grabbed his hands closely inspecting the well chewed short nails. "Now can I get on with itching and going crazy?" "Mmmm," Fraser muttered. Ray pulled a face tugging his hands free from Fraser. "Is that mmm yes, or mmm no? Yer worse than the rash in driving me nuts." "I can see that you are feeling better," Fraser said, his voice remaining calm. Ray threw him a threatening look. "You really ought to stop biting your nails," Fraser scolded as he continued. "And I was only checking that your nails weren't too long. I didn't want you hurting yourself if you are tempted to scratch at the rash," he cocked his head to one side adopting his best serious look. "Which I advise you strongly not too." "Which I advice you strongly not too," Ray mimicked glaring at Fraser angrily. "It's OK for you. Mr. rash-free Mountie. Yer skin's not itching all over," he groaned slumping down onto the couch resting his head in his hands. "And I look like... like a monster," he mumbled miserably. "How could anyone love me? I look like a huge... huge red blotch with white stuff stuck on me. I'm a freak." Fraser couldn't help it, he started to laugh. "Oh Ray," he giggled sitting down next to Ray and pulling him into his arms. "You don't look like a monster or a freak. You are still my beautiful Ray. Rash and all. And I still love you." Fraser kissed Ray's forehead first, and then worked his way down to Ray's lips. "Rash or not, you are still the one for me," he murmured as he claimed Ray's lips in a gentle kiss drawing him closer towards his body. Ray sighed leaning into the embrace returning the kiss as he wrapped his arms around Fraser's body. "Love ya too Ben," he breathed as they pulled apart staring at one another affectionately. "Now come on," Fraser pulled Ray to his feet. "I have an idea that just may help with the itching." "It aint got anything to do with Inuits, breathing techniques or smelly gunk stuff, has it?" Ray asked frowning as Fraser dragged him towards the bedroom. "Cos I'd rather itch," he protested as Fraser shepherded him into their small bathroom. Ray silently watched as Fraser ran a cool bath. Disappearing for a moment, Fraser returned carrying a small packet, the contents of which he proceeded to sprinkle into the bath water. He stirred the water with one hand adding more of the powder until he was completely satisfied. "There," he turned to Ray. "In you get. It will help." Diefenbaker had followed them into the bathroom - poking his nose over the edge of the bath, he sniffed at the water. Pulling back Diefenbaker looked up at Fraser, his head on one side as he woofed softly. "And who asked for your opinion?" Fraser chastised the wolf. "You are not the one suffering the discomfort of chicken pox." Diefenbaker whined looking directly at Ray, his expression one of sympathy, before he trotted out of the bathroom back to the living room. Ray watched the wolf leave before turning his attention back to the bath and Fraser. He eyed the murky looking bath water suspiciously - where the powder hadn't really dissolved, the water looked scummy and brown coloured. "What did ya put in there?" he demanded pointing at the water. "Finely ground oatmeal," Fraser beamed at him holding up the package. "What?" Ray squeaked taking a step backwards. "You want me to get in there and sit.... sit in oatmeal. What am I? Yer breakfast or something?" "Ray," Fraser favoured Ray with his best stern expression. "The oatmeal will help relieve the irritation from your rash. And at the same time soothe your skin." "I'll pass. I'm with Dief on this one," Ray took another couple of steps backwards out of the bathroom into their bedroom. "Being yer dessert I can do..... I like.. but yer breakfast. No way. I'd rather itch." He pulled a face. "It looks so.... so..," he waved his hand at the bath. "What's the word.... Oh yeah. Disgusting." "Ray," Fraser moved forwards. "It'll help. I promise. It's a proven fact." Before Ray had a chance to dodge out of Fraser's way, he had been grabbed firmly and swung over Fraser's shoulder. "Ben," Ray squealed as Fraser marched him back into the bathroom. "I'm sick," he protested struggling against Fraser's firm hold. "Ya can't do this to .... a sick man. To yer lover. It's ... it's against the rules." "It's for your own good," Fraser chuckled as he slipped Ray gently off his shoulder into his arms before lowering him into the murky bath water. "You'll thank me for it later." "I'll kick ya in the head," Ray yelped as his body hit the cool water. "Urghh. It's so.... so disgusting. It's some kind of Mountie torture. Right?" Ray squirmed trying to stand up. "Ben," he wailed as Fraser laughed pushing him firmly into the bath water. Fraser smirked at the indignant look on Ray's face. "I hate ya," Ray sulked as he wriggled against Fraser's hand. "But I love you," Fraser replied kissing Ray's nose as he began to wipe a cloth over Ray's reddened body. Fraser smiled to himself as, despite his grumbles, Ray began to relax sighing softly as he continued to wipe the cloth up over Ray's abdomen, his chest, and up and down his arms. Ray had closed his eyes leaning into the caresses. "Feeling better?" Fraser asked. "Mmmm," Ray opened one eye. "But I still hate ya." "Understood," Fraser answered grinning as he continued to bathe Ray gently. Ray smiled slightly as Fraser's tender caresses seemed to soothe away his bad mood. "Gonna join me?" Ray opened his eyes tugging on Fraser's arm pulling him down closer to kiss him gently on the lips. "Let's do breakfast," he teased as his good humour returned. "You are feeling better," Fraser teased back as he returned the kiss. "I already ate breakfast, but I could be tempted with some dessert." He waggled his eye brows seductively, making Ray giggle. "Understood," Ray mimicked pulling Fraser down even closer as he wrapped his arms around his neck capturing Fraser's lips in a passionate kiss. Fraser looked up from his book; the apartment was silent except for the soft steady breathing coming from the couch. Ray was laying on his side, having fallen asleep in the middle of watching cartoon re-runs with Diefenbaker. The wolf was still in protective mode, and had snuggled in the gap between Ray's legs and the back of the couch, his nose resting lightly on Ray's side. Fraser yawned widely - he had to admit to himself that he was tired and his head ached slightly. Ray was a restless sleeper at the best of times and Fraser, over the last few months, had become used to his flailing arms and legs, hitting and kicking him as Ray moved around their bed. However, since Ray had become ill with the chicken pox, the itchy rash had meant that neither of them had slept well because the skin irritation made Ray toss and turn even more as he tried to get comfortable. Added to sleepless nights, Fraser had also spent the last week trying to amuse Ray to keep him from scratching at the chicken pox rash, even recruiting Diefenbaker to bark when Ray was tempted to scratch. Fraser grinned to himself - it had been a challenge, but he had managed it, even though on one particularly bad day, he had to resort to tying his winter mittens to Ray's hands to stop him scratching. Fraser smirked to himself - Ray had sulked like a small child for the whole afternoon, and he hadn't been able to resist the temptation to keep saying that Ray looked cute in the mittens threatening to take a photograph to show the 27th squad. Ray had pulled all kinds of faces at him, threatened him with all manner of torture, and finally had refused to talk to him. Fraser had relented in the end, releasing Ray from the mittens, and restoring his good humour by kissing and tickling Ray all over until they had collapsed in a heap on the floor giggling and laughing at each other. Despite Ray's loud grumbles and shouting, he had also insisted on continuing the oatmeal baths, and had a sneaking suspicion that they helped with the irritation, even though Ray wouldn't admit it. He cocked his head to one side studying Ray as he slept. The itchy rash had nearly faded, although some blisters were still apparent on the pale skin, their position marked by smudges of calamine lotion. Ray mumbled in his sleep. He opened his eyes slowly smiling up at Fraser as he focused. "Hiya," he murmured stretching his lean body out disturbing Diefenbaker who whined in protest as he jumped off the couch to lay under the coffee table. "Did I miss anything?" "Nothing vital," Fraser assured smiling. "I think Top Cat and Officer Dibble are firm friends now," he leaned forward placing his book on the coffee table. "Never happen Ben," Ray grinned as he struggled to sit up brushing his hand across Fraser's. "TC and Officer Dibble are just meant to fight all the time." "Ahhh," Fraser teased squeezing Ray's hand as he got to his feet. "I see." "I'll make a cartoon junkie outta ya yet," Ray threatened grinning. Fraser moved around to the back of the couch, leaning forward. "I seriously doubt that," he whispered, his breath hot on Ray's neck. Fraser wrapped his arms around Ray's neck lightly nibbling at his shoulder. "Love ya," Ray leaned back into the hug looking at Fraser upside down. "Hey," he touched Fraser's neck lightly with a slender finger. "What's this?" he wriggled around until he was up on his knees looking at Fraser. "It looks like a rash to me," Ray touched Fraser's neck again. "Hey," Ray giggled. "Yer caught my chicken pox Ben." "Don't be ridiculous," Fraser interrupted Ray pulling away; he moved towards the mirror in the hallway pulling his shirt down and studying his neck. "Oh dear," he murmured to himself as he stared at the bright red rash. Turning, he noticed Ray leaning lazily on the kitchen door frame watching him, a small smile playing on his lips, his pale eyes sparkling with mischief. Fraser looked down - Ray was holding a small box in his hand. "Bath?" Ray beamed waggling the oatmeal box under Fraser's nose. "Oh dear," Fraser repeated. THE END Views to: Cal18@usa.net End