Multi-Sock and Open RP: The Gang's All Here! ... Minus One

[heymrcrowley]

((Backdated to the day before the annullments. This is the conclusion of this plot which you may or may not remember. I'm officially back now, yay!))

Comments

[beingironical]

Ray is out, investigating. Investigating what? He does not know. But in the past couple weeks, he's been attacked by midgets, married to and smoochedattacked by Turnbull, and hugged by a strange (albeit very attractive) redhead. While all this is going down, his partner is apparently off playing Blue Lagoon. He's at it alone. Doesn't even get a freaking Wolf to go around and sniff things.

A kid also barfed on his shoes, but he's glad Fraser wasn't here for that. There probably would have been some licking going on in the vicinity of the upchuck, and Ray does not need to deal with that on top of everything else.

Ray's reached a conclusion. The hugging thing cinched it. He's on an undercover mission...and no one bothered to tell him about it. Sort of like what happened to Fraser, only much suckier, because it's happening to him.

And speaking of Fraser, it looks like he's coming Ray's way. Cool. Maybe they can go grab some Chinese...

Wait a tick. It's Fraser! Thank Motherfreaking God! Ray's finally got some back-up! Hoofing it out of

[themountie]

Fraser hardly even looked like himself; he was out of uniform, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, his face tanned and unshaven. If not for the Hat in his hands, he might have been his own cousin or some such. But Ray was Ray, abruptly (as always) real and solidly Ray, and the delight that lit up Fraser's eyes was as genuine and recognizable a fingerprint.

He hadn't even known Ray was here. In the confusion following his accident, he'd simply heard that Ray was in Chicago. It had only seemed natural to assume that Ray was to stay there while Fraser carried out his mission, whatever that might be, here. Certainly, he hadn't expected (although he had hoped) to see his partner upon his return, which made this an extremely happy surprise.

Fraser had never been very much the hugging type -- the Frasers, in general, were not a hugging family -- but he'd been long since accustomed to Ray's particular brand of physical affection and he accepted the hug gratefully, if a little awkwardly, giving Ray a clunky pat on the back before pulling

[beingironical]

"Hi, Fraser," Rays says, grinning right back, and kind of sort of forgetting what he's going on about in the first place.

Oh, right. SCOTTISH CASTLE. "I was attacked by midgets! Are we investigating midgets? Circus midgets? They've got it coming, but you have to tell me these things! And who thought that being married to Turnbull would make a good cover? They were wrong! They were so very wrong that no one in the history of being wrong has ever been as wrong as they are at this moment."

[themountie]

Well, that was rather a lot to process. Fraser was as a rule quite good at processing, helped by a quick mind and a photographic memory, but... no, not a whit of this made any sense to him. He raised a brow. "I'm sorry, Ray, but I'm having a little trouble following you. Do you mean to say that you've been put on an investigation regarding Constable Turnbull and a gang of circus midgets?"

He had a fairly good excuse, he thought, for not being up to date on the situation. He realized that he should fill Ray in, just in case he wasn't aware. "I haven't exactly been fully briefed. I had a bit of a..." He waved a hand vaguely at his own head. "Well, anyway, I don't remember a great deal, and then I was on this island for the past few weeks... I suppose I'm a little behind the loop, so to speak."

[beingironical]

"It could be midgets. It could be butter. A butter, midget thing!" He throws his hands up in the air. "I don't know, Fraser! All I know is, one minute I'm in Chicago, the next I'm here, buttered and cattle prodded. And then married to Turnbull by a hat! A pointy, talking hat! I figure it's a cover. I dunno, maybe it's just some kind of crazy revenge plot." Ray looks from side to side, then leans in and whispers, "I think it might be a robot. The hat. It might be a robot hat. Have we done anything to piss off any hat companies? Robot companies? Either one works."

Ray sighs and hunches his shoulders. "Yeah, yeah. I heard about the island. I'm being electro-shocked, and you're off in the tropics. Not fair, Fraser."

[themountie]

It wasn't a whole lot clearer the second time around, but Fraser was picking up on some things this time that were deeply, deeply alarming. One thing in particular. "You got married?" he asked right over Ray's explanation, astonishment for once taking over the niceties of propriety, his voice rising sharply into the upper octaves. "To--" No, surely not.

Surely not.

He let him go on with the revenge and robots and hats and whatnot, looking shell-shocked, all big Mountie eyes and his mouth hanging open. He could only hope the continuation would shed some light on this, but... no. Baffled, he shook his head, murmuring something to himself that sounded vaguely like bag of marbles. Was Ray unhinged? Was he unhinged? He stared at his partner's jaw, trying to contoct some scenario in which being married to Renfield Turnbull was in any way, shape, or form an acceptable way to conduct onself

[beingironical]

"Woah, woah, woah." Ray holds his hands out in front of him, putting a stop to this train of thought right away. "I got married to Stella. I was forcibly married to Turnbull. Using force. Coercion. All that. Biiiig difference."

Now that that's clear, Ray goes on about the robot hats, which is really the more important topic. "I'm thinking it might be related to that...string of...Radio Shack break ins..." Ray trails off, crinkling his nose at Fraser, who's looking real out of it. He reaches out, and pinches his partner's cheek, moving Fraser's head from side to side. "Hello? Earth to Mountie? We're detectiving. I need you here for that."

Hah! Like that makes it square! "Fraser, I didn't have a choice either! But I wound up sleeping in a freezing-cold tent with Turnbull, and you wound up on a white, sandy beach, sipping drinks from coconuts. And you got a tan! You've gotta be the only guy I know who can go off on a search and rescue, and come back better looking! So it's still not fair."

[themountie]

"I'm not sure I understand, Ray," Fraser said, although he was maybe being somewhat obtuse, pulling the wooden Mountie act. The truth was, he really didn't want to think about it; either Ray was indeed forced into marriage, which was a terrible thing, or he had actually chosen to marry Turnbull and was for some reason covering it up... in theory this was the better option, but the idea was unduly distressing to Fraser. His brow creased sharply. "How is it that you were, er, coerced, or as you say forced into this union?"

Union. Dear God. He felt a bit ill, although he carefully masked it from his face -- he was good at doing that.

The touch on his cheek was what snapped him out of it. He startled as Ray grabbed him, pulling back sharply. The touching was all right when he was expecting it, when it was friendly, but this was just irritating. Especially in his new mood. This homecoming really was not turning out like he'd hoped at all, was it? "I heard you, Ray," he snapped. "The Radio Shack case was over a year ago and happened

[beingironical]

That's what Fraser's gotta say about this whole thing? Hell no. That is not what you say. You say, 'That really sucks, Ray, buddy. I'm sorry you were FORCED into a marriage against your will, pal.' You don't take a statement. Crossing his arms and smiling tightly, Ray starts speaking in overly drawn-out tones. Just to make things crystal clear

[themountie]

Ray was getting snippy, but the thing was that he was right to be snippy and Fraser knew it. Not at him, of course -- it wasn't his fault that Ray had gotten force-married any more than it was his fault that he'd gotten some sun on the island -- but certainly, being shoved into that kind of situation was enough to make anyone a little... cranky. Fraser sighed and tried to calm himself down, to get over the extreme discomfort this was causing him

[beingironical]

"I remember tons. I remember being in Chicago, I remember scheduling a meet downtown. I remember walking to the rendezvous point dry and good-smelling, and then, boom!" Ray claps his hands together. It helps bring the story to life. "I'm walking down some freezing-cold hallway, damp and buttery-smelling. It was not pleasant, Fraser. Butter got in places it did not need to be. I had to wash my lucky boxers! You know, the ones I was wearing when I won the Hawkeyes game." Ray sighs. "That washes all the luck right out." Now what's he gonna wear on dates

[themountie]

Fraser really, really hoped that Ray didn't mean he hadn't washed those otherwise. He was just going to pretend that was what Ray meant. It was one thing to let hygiene slip when you were, say, tracking a criminal across the tundra; it was entirely another when you were living in an apartment in Chicago with running water. Of course, this was the opinion of someone who not only did his laundry with conscientious regularity but also ironed and starched everything he owned, so they might have been coming at this from two opposite extremes

[beingironical]

There's really no way to salvage lucky boxers after they've been washed. Sure, you can try wearing them anyway, but the mojo's just gone. It's science, or something. Detergent gets rid of mojo.

Sigh. It was nice while it lasted.

He nods, considering. "That could work. Maybe a talking hat doesn't need a brain-sized brain. Heck, it's gotta be pea-brained to..." Ray pauses, having said a combination of the words 'married' and 'Turnbull' more times in one day than he'd ever hoped to be capable of. "Yeah. Tiny brain

[themountie]

Unlike Ray, Fraser thought the Hat was actually a little too intelligent for its -- or his, or more specifically his Stetson's -- own good. Ever since his Sorting, he had been waiting uneasily for the day the Hat made its move on his poor uniform. And he had to assume that there was some ulterior motive for this whole 'wedding' mess, a plan which had obviously succeeded, so... "I don't know, Ray. Brain size isn't always directly linked to intelligence. Why, just look at... say, Diefenbaker, as compared to an African elephant. Or, for that matter, you or I." He tapped the side of his head, lips quirking

[beingironical]

"I dunno. You ever met any African elephants? How do we know they aren't tons smarter than the wolf?" Hey, Ray's seen the very ironically-named Dumbo. He knows a thing or two about elephant intellect.

"I'll try and do that, Fraser," says Ray, chuckling a little at his partner's very un-hip use of slang. This is good. The banter. Him being with it, and Fraser being...not so with it. For the first time in weeks, Ray's feeling slightly less weirded out by this entire Hogwarts experience. Maybe even a little bit optimistic that things will work out.

...because now there's a Canadian Mountie and a Deaf Wolf on his side. That can't be healthy.

And speaking of the Deaf Wolf, here he is! Grinning ear-to-ear, Ray leans down and scratches behind Dief's ears like there's no tomorrow. "Hey boy," he says, directly in Dief's line if sight, "Missed you, too. You want a sandwich, when we get to the tent? Maybe some pizza?"

[themountie]

Because he was Fraser, he gave this all due consideration. "No," he admitted. "And I suppose I might be biased in favor of my friends. They are known to have very good memories, after all -- elephants, that is." Dief was very smart, but his memory largely seemed to extend to Things Fraser Had Said That He Could Use Against Him. Wolves, honestly.

"Yes, exactly, Ray, just keep trying." Fraser nodded in satisfaction, giving his partner a quick clap on the shoulder and a smile. It was odd -- he was worried, yes, and he was extremely eager to jump back into work, but he also felt better than he had in ages. Like a weight had been lifted.

He wasn't consciously aware of it, but a part of him had been convinced that he was never going to see Ray again; that Ray would be staying in Chicago permanently, that he might even transfer away from the 27. Seeing Ray here, even a distressed and married entangled Ray, was a great but very welcome surprise