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This was in reply to a challenge issued by elaine to celebrate the creation of a
new dueSOUTH slash mailing list called...you guessed it, thecloset.
It had to feature all of the following: Expect Wierdness. READ THE APOLOGIES AT THE END FIRST - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Don't own 'em , (wish I did) just playing, not responsible for the condition they're in or what they get up to in the wee dark hours of the morning......
IN THE BEGINNING...... "A Challenge" declares elaine A lazy, sharklike smile slowly crawls across Taleya's face "A challenge, eh?" She nonchalantly crosses her arms and leans against the door. "A challenge, you say?" Unable to resist, Taleya immediately jumps on the computer (unfortunately inadvertently crushing her younger sister) whacks the dueSOUTH soundtrack into the CD-ROM, plugs in the earphones, and proceeds to make a hash out of canon with....... Where did I leave that !@##$@$ list??? Cooper closed his eyes and smiled sadly as a flicker of red crossed his vision. Red serge to be precise. The red serge of his lover. Mouths meeting, breaking, meeting again, fingers tracing across taunt nipples, stroking through black hair, pulling back to meet those incredible eyes, always changing to reflect his moods. Eyes that had closed, he feared, forever when Turnbull had pushed a small
child out of the way of a careening truck, taking the force of the blow himself. Thatcher stood outside the ICU, watching. She met the worried eyes of Constable Benton Fraser as he walked up. "How is he, sir?" "No change. Cooper's in there with him now." They watched together through the window for a moment. Cooper was hunched by Turnbull's bedside, holding his hand, stroking his arm, constantly touching him. "Apparently they were a lot closer than any of us realised." Thatcher watched for a moment longer before turning away, the tenderness reminding her of the aching void in her own heart. "I want the men responsible for this found, constable." she said steadily. No one hurts one of my men and gets away with it. "Detective Vecchio has been assigned to the case sir. I was wondering if I had your permission to assist - " "Permission granted." He paused. "Sir, Diefenbaker..." "Will be taken care of." "Understood." "Bad news. The driver got clean away. And the truck? Full of A grade heroin. How's Turnbull?" Ray was waiting for him at the hospital entrance. "Not good." Fraser admitted as they walked towards the Riv. "The accident left him with massive internal injuries. Cooper's keeping vigil with him." "Cooper? Black hair, moron? Why?" Fraser cleared his throat. "Apparently Turnbull and Cooper were lovers." he said as he slid into his seat. "Oh my god. Poor guy, he's probably worried sick." Ray's hands were trembling as he buckled his seat belt, and he gripped the steering wheel for support. "Ray?" Fraser's voice broke into his thoughts "Ray? Are you all right?" "Oh God Fraser. It could have been you up there. It so easily could have been you. If you had been on sentry duty instead of Turnbull..." he trailed off, closing his eyes as the tremors took him. "Ray." Fraser leaned over and grasped his partner by the chin. "Ray. It *wasn't* me." he tilted Ray's head up until their lips met. "And I'll prove it." he murmured softly. Ray dove into the kiss, branding his lover with all his desperate need and fear. They broke the kiss at last, and just sat there, holding each other. "We're gonna get this guy Benny. I swear." Fraser rose from his crouch at the front of the truck. "Nothing." Apart from the splashes of blood. "Anything at the back?" "Nope." Ray snorted in disgust. "Just mud. I wish we had the driver to talk to. I bet he could tell us a lot. And... oh ygeesh, gum. Fraser, I have gum on my shoe." "Don't take it off." Fraser hurried around the side of the truck. "I can't take it off. It's stuck to my shoe." Ray was hopping around one-legged. Fraser scooped his partner into his arms and carried him over to the sidewalk "Hey? What's with the carry?" yelled Ray. "Not like I'm objecting to being swept off my feet," he whispered softly to Fraser "but I thought we wanted to keep this quiet." "Evidence, Ray" he was already prising the shoe off. "Mud from the scene could contaminate it." "Fraser it was on the mud when I stood on it. I don't think...augh don't lick it!" "It's a nicotine based gum Ray. Whoever was chewing this must have been attempting to give up smoking." "Great. That narrows down our probable suspects to about five million in the greater Chicago area alone." "There also some wood chips." Fraser pried one loose from the gum. He inspected it, then licked it - much to Ray's disgust. "That's it. You are not getting a kiss tonight unless you do some heavy duty gargling." "Blabbyblabbyus Whogivesafuckyus" Declared Fraser. "The Red ash. It grows solely in the wilderness regions of Washington." "Great. So our suspect is a Red Ash from Washington that's trying to give up smoking." "No Ray, these are wood chips. Indicating the wood has been milled." He dabbed the sample on his tongue again. "Judging from the amount of nicotine present in the chips, I would say approximately a full days drive from here." Ray snapped his fingers. "I got a map in the Riv." He stood up. "Fraser." "Yes, Ray?" "I need my shoe back." "Oh, sorry." Fraser quickly handed the object back to his
partner. "Ok." They spread the map out on the hood of the Riviera. "We're looking at a full days drive. In that truck, doing about 90 miles per hour - " "I would say closer to 60, Ray." "He was doing 90 when he mashed Turnbull." "Yes, but I would assume that he would be attempting to avoid attracting attention to himself whilst driving along the quieter roads. However, he would have sped up once he reached the city, as 90 miles per hour - as I understand it - appears to be reasonable speed for traffic in Chicago. Although I did once see - " "Ok, a full days travel, say what eight / nine hours?" "About that" "- nine hours doing 60 miles per hour. That gives us a search radius of about... what the hell are you doing to my car?" "It's a map divider, Ray. It's used to calculate distances on maps." "I don't care if it's used to calculate the number of idiot presidential candidates in America. Pointy things and my car do not mix. This is a 1971 Buick Riviera, Fraser. It's a classic. Do not put any sharp pointy objects near the paintwork." Fraser made a conciliatory noise and tucked the map divider back into the pouch of his uniform. "Ok, let's do this. Without damaging my car. I'd say we're looking at a radius of about what, 600 miles?" "540 Ray. Although a great deal of that is industrial or suburban areas. We would do best to focus on parks and national reserves, especially near the Washington area." He paused suddenly and pointed to the map. "There - the Appalachian Mountain Range. It has a large population of Red Ash. " "Ok, " Ray rolled up the map. "Appalachia it is."
"It was your idea Ray." Fraser reminded him as the Red SUV rolled over another pothole. "I believe your exact words were 'We are not taking my car up a mountain. This is classic 197-'" "Yeah, well that was before I knew this thing had no shock absorbers. My butt's gonna be sore for a week." "Really?" Fraser twisted in his seat to face him. "A whole week?" Ray let a smile cross his face. "Ok, maybe not that sore." he admitted. "Well Ray, there were other vehicles on offer." "Yeah, two had no brakes, and the other one had a dayglo madonna glued to the dash. Thanks but no thanks." They continued for a while in silence. "You know Ray, the Inuit have a story that fits this particular situation. It seems there were two brothers, on their way to the local trading post, when one of them - " Ray leaned forward and turned on the radio. Loud. "Ah." They reached the ranges by late afternoon, stopping at a local cafe before meeting with the police. "Ok, we're the cops from Chicago." Ray breezed in, flashing his ID "Ah, yes." the portly sergeant behind the desk stood and offered his hand. "How may I help you gentlemen?" "Mills" said Fraser helpfully, stepping forward. "We are investigating what could turn out to be a manslaughter case, and we believe the suspect obtained his vehicle from a mill near here." "Ayuh?" The sergeant chewed the inside of his cheek reflectively. "You got the registration?" "743 FSU. Washington plates." "Oh yeah, I seen that one around. I think it belongs to the Standchem mill up the road. Go up this road here about ten miles, then follow the dirt track for about another thirty. You can't miss it" Fraser leaned forwards "Thank you kindly" "Yeah, thanks" Ray dragged his partner to the door. "What a yutz" he muttered as he started the SUV " 'Ayuh?' who the hell says 'Ayuh'?" He pulled out of the car park and started up the road. "Well Ray, a large part of Canada's population..." Ray swore as he pulled behind a car crawling up the road. "Fraser, that guy is a large part of Canada's population." He cranked down the window and honked the car in front of him. "Yo, can we actually move here lady? Move it, you old bag!" "Ray, the driver of that car is an elderly woman. She's probably very sweet." protested Fraser The sweet elderly woman gave them the bird out her drivers side window. "Or not." Fraser amended The woman turned into a drive a short time later and Ray floored the accelerator getting past. She gave him an indignant look, and clutched a box of spaghetti closer to her chest. "Yeah, I hope you choke." Ray muttered, turning into the dirt road. It was full of potholes. Of course. Yep, no doubt about it. He was gonna be sore for weeks.
The workers were knocking off for the day when they arrived. Ray and Fraser threaded their way through a mass of men in flannel as made their way to the foreman's office. "Nope, sorry, we ain't got one like that here" "Are you sure?" Ray was fuming. If I busted my ass - literally - for nothing... "Take a look around. We're a logging and milling company, we use trucks. Big ones, we're talking sixteen wheelers. What would we do with a pissy little one like that?" "Are you aware of any other mills that may use this kind of vehicle?" asked Fraser. "Nope. We all use the big stuff. Sixteen wheelers to bring the logs in, dumpers and movers to shift the sawdust and planks." Ray leaned forwards, hands on the desk. "Do you know any other mills or places with wood chips round here?" "There's the old Carter place. It aint been used for years though. Some bigwig from California bought the place, then let it sit there. The place has probably fallen apart by now." he shifted in his seat, pulling out a map. "Go about another thirty miles up the road, then look out for the signpost." "Thank you kindly." Fraser memorised the map. "No problems. Just watch the time. It'll be dark in a couple of hours. We've had some bad accidents up there on that stretch of road."
He bent and sniffed the contents. "Heroin." "I hope you're willing to pay for that gentlemen." a voice sang out from behind on of the of the lights. "Chicago PD." Yelled Ray, pulling his gun out. "Put your weapons down and come out with your hands up." A shot rang out, knocking his gun from his hands. "I don't think so cop." the voice replied. Ray licked his lips and exchanged a glance with Fraser. "Should we chance it?" "Do we have a choice?" They both bolted, taking shelter behind a huge stack of wood. "How many did you get?" "Three" "I got four." "You go this way, I'll circle around the other side. We should be able to pick them off, one by one." "Fraser." Ray hissed as he started to move off "Yes Ray?" "Good luck." they shared a quick kiss before separating. Ray saw the first one in between two stacks. He was at least eight feet tall, and almost as wide. Murmuring prayers in Italian under his breath, Ray picked up a piece of wood and smashed the guy across the back of the head with it. He dropped like a stone. Ray grinned. "Cool" he handcuffed the guy, then moved around the pile, a goofy grin on his face. Until he ran smack into a fist. A huge paw lifted him up by the collar, and dragged him gasping to the centre of the yard. "Look what I found in the woodpile boss. A big rat." "Well, well, well." A slight, red haired man stepped forwards, putting his hands on his hips, a big grin on his face. "Welcome to my little heroin shop, rat. My name is John Matt, and I will be your host for tonight..."
Fraser was running silently across the other end of the pile. He stopped short, watching, waiting.... Right on cue, a thug stepped into his line of vision. Fraser punched him neatly in the gut, then a quick blow to the face, panting slightly as he dragged the man behind the woodpile. Whipping off his lanyard, he tied the man's hands behind his back, then as an afterthought, stuffed a handkerchief in his mouth, effectively gagging him. After checking the man had a sufficient airway, he melted back into the shadows.
"So, cop, where's the other one? Big red?" Matt asked, toying with the muzzle of his rifle. Ray gave him his patented 'You are an idiot' look. "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Oh really?" Matt smiled, then smacked him across the face with an open palm. "Wrong answer, Cop. Mountieeeeeee." he sang, turning towards the darkness. "Come out come out wherever you are!" "Don't do it Fraser!" yelled Ray. He was rewarded by another belt in the face. "Come ooouuut, Mountieeeeeee." He turned to his sidekicks. "Ok, start on his partner." One of the men nodded and produced a large metal bar. Like a batter at the plate, he swung back and slammed it into Ray's ribcage while his partner held him steady. Ray screamed as the metal bit into his chest, ribs splintering under the impact. "Fraser!" "Come out come out wherever you are!" Matt sang out again while the bar was brought back for another blow. "I'm here." the soft voice cut through the night air like a knife. Fraser was standing behind them, feet slightly apart, arms by his sides. Matt smiled slowly. "Welcome to the party, Mountie." He gestured with his gun. "Storage bay. Now."
After checking the ropes were secure, Matt dismissed his stooges and leaned
back to enjoy the view. "I can imagine." "Really?" His smiled faded, and he pointed the gun at Ray. "Tell me." "Well, first you would start by slowly unzipping your jeans, prolonging the moment, as it were, then would follow your - I'm sorry, what kind of underwear do you wear?" "Boxers" "Thank you kindly - then your boxers would follow, the tight elastic straining slightly behind your knees as I would gently caress your penis and testicles. I would then press my lips against your growing erection, then your testicles, each in turn, then your erection again, light kisses, so feathery you would hardly be able to feel them. Once that had been done, and you would begin to feel that you would explode, I would take you - ever so lightly, mind you - into my mouth and gently begin to rake my teeth up and down your length, ever so slowly, but with increasing speed as your hips begin to buck, and your hands run through my hair, clutching and smoothing as you feel the approaching orgasm. Then I would bring my tongue into play, tickling the sensitive area at the tip of your penis, then circling, gently teasing, until you were on the brink of ecstasy. At which point we would both very probably orgasm." Fraser cleared his throat, a little self consciously. Both Ray and Matt were staring at him opened-mouthed. "You can do that?" squeaked Matt at least three octaves above normal. "Yes. I can." "What about the big macho Mountie image?" He finally managed to get his voice under control. "Although being attractive to women is admittedly part of the job description, being attracted to women is another matter entirely." "So you're gay." "I tend to think of myself more as a bisexual. I am attracted to both men and women, but I am currently in a stable relationship with a man, yes." "This one?" Matt prodded Ray with his foot. "Yes. Please don't do that." Fraser said as Ray moaned at the pain in his ribs. "What will you do if I don't?" "None of the acts I described before." Matt's mouth dropped open again. "You'd do that? To me?" "In order to save my partner's life, yes. Yes I would." "No Benny, don't do it." "Shut up, you." The statement was accompanied by a brutal kick to Ray's broken ribs. Ray clenched his eyes shut against the wave of white light that exploded in his chest. "Benny" he gasped "D-don't" "Shh." said Fraser softly "Don't try to talk." "I'm not worth it..." Matt considered him for a moment. "You're right. You're not." Then he smashed the butt of his rifle into Ray's face. Fraser gritted his teeth against the urge to leap on the man and tear his lungs out. Anxiously he listened for a sound, any sound to reassure him his lover was alive. Finally he was rewarded by the faint rattle of breath. "Please, leave him alone." "Oh yeah." Matt was almost jumping out of his skin in excitement. "Yeah, I can do that." He tossed the rifle over into a pile of hay, then started work on his jeans. "Wait a minute." he paused, looking at Fraser suspiciously. "How do I know this isn't some kind of trick or something?" "I swear to you on my word as a police officer, I will not attempt to overcome you whilst we are engaged in acts of carnal knowledge." "You swear on your boyfriend's life?" "Yes. I do." "Ok." "I assume that you will be providing the condom." said Fraser, amazed by the calm in his own voice. "Huh?" the other man paused, pants halfway down to his ankles. "Unprotected sex is one of the most common ways of contracting the AIDS virus." "Uh, yeah." He was fishing in his pocket. "Here, I got one." he fumbled with the foil wrapping. After a moment, Fraser offered, "May I?" Matt nodded and handed over the square. After watching Fraser fumble awkwardly behind his back, he leant forward and cut the ropes binding his hands. "There." he began "That should make - " Fraser's fist shot out and knocked him cold. He quickly untied his feet, then moved to Ray's side. "Ray? Can you hear me?" No reply. Taking the knife from Matt's limp hand, he made short work of the ropes binding his partner, and gently rolled him over, wincing at the damage done to that beautiful face. "Ray, I'm going to check your ribs, ok?" he gently ran his hands up his partners sides, wincing with his lover as he touched broken flesh. At least four broken ribs, severe bruising, possible internal injuries. Taking off his red tunic, he draped it tenderly over the shivering form. "We need to move Ray, before they come back." snatching the rifle from the hay and slinging it over his shoulder, Fraser debated on the best way of carrying his lover. Broken ribs ruled a Fireman's carry out, so he carefully scooped him into his arms. "Ray," he murmured softly. "Hold on to me. Can you do that?" The soft reply made him smile. "For you...always..." Ray slid his arms around his neck. Fraser found a spot well hidden behind a clump of trees. He carefully set Ray down onto the soft moss and took the rifle off his shoulder. "What...do we do now?" Wheezed Ray, struggling to sit up. He felt strong arms on his shoulders, then Fraser was helping him sit with his back against the woodpile. "I'm open to suggestions. Perhaps we should wait for the police forces. They should have been alerted by the shooting earlier." "We're in the middle of nowhere." hissed Ray. " No one would even notice if the damn mill even exploded." He paused for a breath that turned into a cough, then curled into a tight ball, trying to relieve the pain in his chest. "Benny." he breathed softly. "The SUV" "I see it Ray." "Shoot out the gas tank. Now. It's the only way we can stop them." "Ray..." "Do it Benny. For me." Fraser nodded and pulled the trigger. His aim, as always, was perfect, and the SUV exploded in a cherry red fireball, sparking the gasoline drums nearby. With a final, glorious whoomph the entire mill exploded. Fraser lowered his head as the screams of confusion reached his ears. He had to push against every fibre of his being not to run in the flaming conflagration in the hopes of saving those trapped inside. "You did good Benny. Let's get out of here." Slinging the rifle over his shoulder, Fraser carefully picked his lover up into his arms and melted away into the woods.
Fraser couldn't suppress the grin that broke out over his face at the fact that his lover was alive, and well enough to start up his habitual whining. "How do you feel?" He knelt beside Ray on the soft grass. After their flight from the burning mill, Fraser had set up a shelter in the forest, and sat by his lover's side all night, gun at the ready, senses alert for any sign of threat. "Like the light horse brigade just charged over me. You?" "I appear to be undamaged." "You would be." Ray coughed and snuck a hand inside his shirt. "That really hurts." "I know" Fraser's face was serious. "That's why I've been collecting this moss." "You gonna stuff my shirt with moss? asked Ray confusedly. "No, " Fraser pulled a wooden frame into his line of sight. "I've been making a travois" " A what?" "A kind of portable bed." "Mmm. I like your thinking." "Somehow I doubt that you are capable of that particular act at the moment" Fraser said reprovingly, but Ray didn't miss the twinkle in those blue eyes. "You know, you're probably right. I should just lay back and let you do all the work." Fraser tightened the last support strip on the travois. damn right.
"All the leaves are brown" "The leaves are brown" "And the sky is grey." "Sky is grey" "I left my heart in 'frisco." "San Francisco." "San Francisco Bay." "San Francisco Bay" "California" "California..." "You know Ray, we really have to learn the rest of the words to that song." "Nah, screw it. I like our version. Short and snappy" "Understood. All the leaves are brown" "The leaves are brown"
"What happened?" his throat felt as if Dief had been sleeping in it. "It's a long story. Suffice to say, we managed to make it back to civilisation. You're in Mercy hospital." Fraser reached out and stroked his lovers arm. "How do you feel?" "Lousy. What's with the red uniform? Haven't you gone home to sleep? You should take better care of yourself Benny." "Oh, I did get a chance to go home and change. However, I am on duty in approximately fifteen minutes." Regret showed in his eyes. "I should get going." "Don't go. I'll get bored without someone to annoy me" "I have to Ray. With constable Turnbull in hospital, Inspector Thatcher will be expecting me on guard duty. And I do not annoy you. That is just a big act. Besides, there are approximately fifty Vecchio's waiting outside for a chance to talk at you." "Yes you do, no it isn't, and for the time being, screw the Vecchio's. How is Turnbull?" "Out of intensive care, and they have moved him into a private room. In fact..." He trailed off as Ray turned mournful green eyes on him. "So you're leaving me alone?" "But Ray, you won't be alone." Fraser pulled back the curtains surrounding the next bed. "Hello Detective. I believe that we are going to be room mates for quite some time." Ray groaned. Turnbull. He didn't know which was worse - being roommates with Turnbull, or the fact that Cooper was there as well. The groan turned into a cough, and Fraser bent quickly over the bed. "Ray? Are you all right?" "Fraser..." He leaned closer. "You are going to get it when I get out of here." There was an unholy gleam in the Mountie's eyes. "Promise?" "C'mere" Ray grabbed him by the back of the neck. A soft cough interrupted the kiss. "Detective. I won't stay long. I see you have a visitor." Fraser straightened quickly as Thatcher turned a cool gaze on him. "At ease constable." Fraser automatically dropped into parade ground stance. With a sigh, Thatcher turned to Ray. "Detective. On behalf of the Canadian government, I would like to thank you for your part in the apprehension of these criminals." she said formally. "Thank you very much" Ray replied indulgently. With a half nod to Turnbull and Cooper, Thatcher turned and stalked to the door. She paused, silhouetted in the frame. "Constable Fraser." "Yes Sir?" "You and Cooper have a week's sick leave. With pay. Use it wisely." "Thank you kindly sir." Fraser watched with bemusement as she walked away. "Excuse me? Hero in need here." Ray said plaintively "Ah yes. Where were we?" THE END
Ok, it's crap. But It's three am, I'm sick, I'm grumpy and I don't give a shit. This was my first attempt at slash (and my first *finished* RayV story)...so Flame Away. If you don't bitch, I can't learn. Please don't smack the Typo Faery - I was writing this while bopping away to Pulp, and writing a TS story at the same time (literally - good thing I'm ambidextrous). APOLOGIES CONTEST
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All Content Copyright © 2001 Taleya Joinson
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