Smarties Smarties by Jaime Arundel *** Fraser does some thinking. not really explicit; slash warning. takes place after "Odds," but in a different universe from "CotW." the characters belong to Alliance; Smarties belong to Rowntree, i think, although they've probably been bought out by some bigger corporation. heavens only knows who the red dye belongs to ... some pharmaceutical company probably. inspired by recent discussion in thecloset. thanks, y'all. comments welcome. send 'em to j_arundel@hotmail.com. *** It's late. Or perhaps it's early. The case has been wrapped up, and now I'm back in the Consulate. Alone again. Everyone else is at home ... or in gaol. I'm still wearing Jack Huey's tuxedo. As I unwind the cummerbund, I can feel how tired I am, how my arms ache from the weight of her. Stripping down to my boxers, I hang the tuxedo in my closet, thankfully just a closet tonight, and close the door. The Consulate's completely empty at this time of night, and too warm, as usual. I press both hands into the base of my spine and stretch. The bag of Smarties sits by itself in the centre of my desk, a silent reminder of the evening. I tip half the bag out on the top of my desk, sweeping aside a stack of file folders to do so. Dief whines at me, eyes growing bigger as he sees the size of the heap. I sit in the desk chair, idly sorting them into individual piles, one for each colour. I can still feel her behind me, her strong fingers plying the muscle groups of my back; she'd been knowledgeable about that, as she had about cards. Funny how some people come to think that because they can read one game, they can read them all. The bag was very full and my heaps are getting quite large now. Dief has managed to lay his muzzle on the desk, drooling all over my desk blotter. I flick a finger at him and he jerks his head back all of a centimetre. Very little distracts Dief from anything edible, especially anything sweet. Edible and sweet. They're terms some men would apply to her, but only if they were too stupid to realize that anything that sweet has to be dangerous. Dangerous and habit- forming, for those who're susceptible. I start to flatten my piles into long, curving rows. The Smarties shine dully in the light of my desk lamp. I have plenty of each colour and there are some I don't need at all. Dief sighs as I push a half dozen of the brown ones towards him. A snap, crunch, swallow and they're gone already. I don't give him more because chocolate contains theobromine, an alkaloid which can sometimes cause anaphylactic reactions in dogs. Given how much chocolate Dief's eaten in his three and a half years in Chicago, I can't imagine him developing a problem now. Still better to be safe than sorry. I snicker. There are hands on my back again, long, knowing fingers tracing the length of the muscles, finding and releasing knots I hadn't even realized were there. She'd been so good at that, so determined. Funny how concerned Kowalski was; he really seemed to think that I was falling for her. He should have known she's not my type. If anything, I'd have thought she was more his. I was a little surprised that he seemed more interested in me than in her. I hope nothing's going on there. Ray K's ripe to fall, I think, as lonely as I've been these last months, and I'd rather not be the one to cause him pain. More pain. God knows I've caused him enough, one way or another. And I like him, I really do. He's an interesting person and he is, despite himself, a good police officer. Still, I'd have thought Lady Shoes was more his type. The hands move up to my shoulders, kneading into the tense muscles there. I can still feel her weight hanging, first from one arm, then from the other. I didn't drop her, of course, and if I've a few strained muscles from holding her like that, well, some would say I deserved it. It wasn't a very nice thing to do to her, after all. She didn't want me, you know. Even though she kissed me. Even though she rubbed my back and tried to bed me. That close to me, and wearing only my old red long-johns, I'd have known if she'd been aroused. And she wasn't. The backrub, the sex on offer, they were only early moves in the game she was playing. A way to keep upping the ante, until she had me firmly hooked. She wanted to use me, and she was gambling on the price she would have to pay to do it. I made it easy for her ... and then found that I wanted to make her pay for it, after all. A little adrenaline, that was all it was, really. There was never any possibility that I would actually drop her. Am I really learning to bluff? Maybe. The fingers move up to that place where the base of my skull meets the back of my neck. Strong, knowing, familiar. I groan. The Smarties are all in order now, six parallel sweeps of colour, a chocolate rainbow. A hand reaches over my shoulder, snags a red Smartie between long elegant fingers. That voice in my ear now "I always eat the red one's *first* but I suck them *very* slowly." I turn, feeling my breath catch at the sight of that red-coated candy being sucked very slowly indeed between mobile lips, stained near crimson from the dye. "Ray," I say, and turn into his arms. He lifts me, strong as ever despite his leanness, lays me down on my desk. There'll be a rainbow coloured tattoo across my back when I finally get up, but I don't care as I long as I can feel the touch of his hands on me. His lips press a kiss over my left nipple and he giggles briefly as he surveys the red-dyed imprint of his lips on my chest. He shouldn't be here. It's too dangerous a game he's playing. But he can't keep away, and I can't make him, though I never know when he'll come, or from where. I spread my legs and welcome him home. My torso slides on the slick surface of the desk as he enters me, and Smarties cascade onto the floor. Dief munches contentedly. "Ray," I say again, gasping at the feel of him, strong and silent and here. He bends his mouth to mine, and I taste candy and chocolate and him. I love Smarties. Return to Due South Fiction Archive