IN FLAGRANTE DELECTO	 This is my virgin effort, so please be gentle.
Idea taken from posts by Carri Ann Copas and Laura Higgins. Rated PG-13
for adult situation. All standard disclaimers apply (Alliance owns 'em. I
just play with 'em. Don't sue me, please.).  IN FLAGRANTE DELECTOby Leigh
A. Adams Ray Vecchio stared at the two bodies on the floor of Benny's
office with naked disbelief etched on his face. Perhaps naked wasn't the
best choice of adjective considering he'd followed a trail of discarded
red serge turnics, Sam Browne belts, and other Mountie parphernalia into
the office. Vecchio had mercifully been spared a complete view of the two
people rolling around the floor. Actually, all he could see were two bare
feet and two booted feet--neither a matching pair--and trouser-clad legs.
Ray mentally thanked God for small miracles, but he winced when a moan
escaped one of the wrestling Mounties. _Benny finally snapped_, he thought
with a sigh. Ray knew his friend had developed a thing for the woman
moaning, but he couldn't believe Fraser would so easily forget protocols
on fraternization--not to mention the common sense involved in actually
closing a door--to take a roll on the floor with the Dragon Lady. Ray made
a polite cough and grinned wickedly when Thatcher's tousled head appeared
over Fraser's painfully neat desk. Her face was flushed, her expression
pricelessly horrified. Yep, he was going to get some mileage out of this.
"Inspector," he drawled and gave her a gleeful grin. She stammered,
"Vecchio, this isn't what you think." Ray crossed his arms and leaned
against the door frame. "So what _is_ it?" Thatcher rose to her feet. Her
suspenders were hanging down from the waistband of her trousers, and her
white undershirt was untucked. She stepped from behind the desk. Her
fingers nervously threaded together and unlaced only to repeat the same
movements again. She gave a pained, sheepishly shaky smile. Her awkward
gait as she crossed the floor reminded Ray of a Mother Goose rhyme. "I
really don't think there's any need to discuss this . . . incident . . .
with Constable Fraser, Vecchio," she said softly with a wincing smile. Her
dark eyes implored him, and Ray was confused since it was surely Benny
lying on the other side of the desk. Deciding it must be a Mountie thing
or an appeal to honor like Fraser had yammered on about when Ray pressed
him about Frannie, Vecchio warily said, "Okay." Thatcher looked immensely
relieved. It didn't make sense, though, he thought. Why couldn't he talk
about it? Unless . . . . A nasty suspicion crept into his thoughts. She
must have seen the intent on his face for she tried to block Ray from
entering the office fully. He feinted right and quickly went around her to
the left. The rigid Mountie lying on the floor behind Fraser's desk looked
for all the world like some kid had tipped him during sentry duty. The
only human Ray knew who could out-Fraser Fraser lay there on his back at
stiff attention staring at the ceiling. Turning away from Turnbull, Ray
stabbed a finger at Thatcher as he passed her. "You owe me." He strode out
the door. "Next time close and lock the door. Even better, use your own
office." Ray signed the final report and shoved it in the file folder. He
caught a flash of red from the corner of his eye, and looked up at his
best friend. "Hey, man, where were you?" Fraser came as close to shrugging
as he ever did. "The inspector sent me for coffee." "And that took over an
hour?" Ray asked incredulously. "Well, you see, Ray," Fraser began,
adjusting the Stetson where it was tucked under his arm, "Inspector
Thatcher is very particular about the coffee we use in the consulate.
There is only one purveyor of her preferred blend in the Chicago area, and
it's located across town." "You'd think she'd let you take a consulate
car," Ray observed. "Oh, no, Ray," Fraser replied. "Since I am not on
official consulate business, am only running an errand, as it were, I must
use public transportation." "I see," Ray said. And he did. "The odd thing
is," Fraser said, sounding baffled, "that the consulate has gone through
an inordinate amount of coffee the past few weeks." "Ah," Ray said,
struggling to keep his expression blandly neutral. Fraser frowned at him.
"'Ah' what?" "Just 'ah,'" Ray answered, rising to his feet. "Ready to go?"
END adderlygirl@yahoo.com