[fic: were no crime, fraser/vecchio, rated r]
Title: were no crime
Author: sionnain
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: R
Summary: Ray is starting to notice a pattern in Fraser's penchant for off-duty crime-stopping.
AN: This was technically written for the ds_closet Fraser/Vecchio Month, for a free day! But while I had the best of intentions, my timing was a bit too late to get it in on time. I owe a great many thanks to belmanoir for being an awesome and thorough beta as well as a generous sharer of plot-bunnies. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Also, belmanoir gets full points for the title, which is from the Andrew Marvell poem To His Coy Mistress. This is set somewhere in Season 1, early series.
were no crime
It's starting to become a thing.
Ray isn't sure, at first, that Fraser is doing what Ray thinks he's doing. Because Fraser is a Law Abiding Citizen (even if he happens to be a citizen of another country) and it makes sense, it really does, that Fraser really is concerned about illegal parking and skateboarding right next to signs "which clearly prohibit the activity, Ray," and suspicious loitering in front of storefronts.
It's just that Ray is starting to notice a pattern, here. That this happens a lot when they're out for dinner, or after basketball, or just about any time Ray is about to say something like, "So, Benny, you want to make out?"
Okay, maybe not just come out and say it, but hey. Ray's got moves, and maybe he's a little rusty at using them on guys, but he's trying, here. It can't be that different from when he was in college, right?
Then again--it is Fraser, so who knows.
Not Ray, that's for sure. Because Ray has dropped hints, lots of hints, hints that would work on anyone else in the world that wasn't Fraser. And he's thinking about doing something a lot less subtle--like, moving across the Riv and kissing him, because that's about as obvious as you can get, right?--but then he starts to notice Fraser's freakish timing for the apprehension of law-breakers, and it's... ridiculous.
Because Fraser has descended into the weirdest bouts of off-duty law enforcement Ray has ever seen, and it's starting to make Ray suspicious, because he and Fraser; they've got a thing, Ray can tell. They spend every waking moment together, don't they? And sometimes, Ray will catch Fraser beaming at him, bright and happy, a look on his face like Ray's the Canadian--whatever those mountains are in Canada--and you don't just smile at a guy like that because you're pals.
You smile at him 'cause you like him as much as you like cold air and mountains and whatever else Fraser loves about Canada, and Ray's never seen Fraser smile like that at anyone--or anything--else in Chicago that's not Ray. So that's got to mean something, and if Fraser would just stop arresting everything in sight for six minutes, Ray would smile back at Fraser like he was Lake Michigan and the Sox and Chinatown and that would be it, maybe they could finally do something besides smile at each other, for the love of God.
On Tuesday, after Fraser gets off work at the Consulate, they go to the Chinese place and Ray smiles and flirts and drinks very suggestively from his beer bottle. ("Ray, is there something wrong with the curvature of that bottle? Did you know that the shape was specifically designed to maximize surface area and cool quicker, and the color is directly related to the amount of hops used in the brewing process?") So, okay, that didn't work but hey, that's some good trivia about beer, you never know when that might come in handy.
After dinner, when they're in the car and Ray is trying to figure out how to say, let's go back to your place and you can show me your etchings in Canadian, Fraser suddenly leaps out of the car while they're parked at a light.
"There's a crime in progress, Ray, excuse me," Fraser says seriously--as seriously as someone can say anything while jumping out of an idling car--and promptly stops a jaywalker. Ray grumbles a bit, but Fraser looks so proud at stopping the poor middle-aged woman with the harried expression and the mound of shopping bags--well, Ray doesn't want to shout what the hell are you doing? and ruin Fraser's obvious pleasure in keeping the streets of Chicago jaywalker-free. He just takes Fraser home and says goodnight, then bangs his head six times on the steering wheel after Fraser goes inside.
Strike one.
Thursday, they're watching the game at a bar and shooting a few rounds of pool (for peanuts. Actual peanuts, instead of money), and Ray's done a pretty good job of moving in close to Fraser while they're playing, brushing against him deliberately, that kind of thing. Junior-high-dance moves, certainly, but hopefully they're at least making some kind of impression, other than Fraser thinking Ray has some sort of balance issues and should see a doctor.
Right when Ray has Fraser maneuvered somewhere near the wall and is staring intently at Fraser's mouth, Fraser looks all flushed and suddenly decides he might have to arrest the bartender because of the video poker machine that's sitting on the bar, lights flashing cheerily on the screen. Despite Ray's rather pointed comments that Fraser just let it go, Fraser start asking the bartender questions to see if the machine pays out and is therefore illegal.
"--I'm just concerned, you see, because if the machine is actually distributing cash to patrons who successfully win the game-which is not easy, especially inebriated, though I'm sure you're very good about monitoring your customer's alcoholic intake to reduce any risk of driving under the influence-that of course would be illegal, and I would have to arrest you. Of course, it would also be illegal for Detective Vecchio or myself to play the game and find out, and asking you to do it would be akin to entrapment, so...I really think the best thing to do would be to have Detective Vecchio confiscate the machine so that a more thorough examination can be performed legally."
The bartender is giving Fraser a look that says are you out of your goddamned mind, and then he points at Ray and says, in that tone of voice you only get by working in a Chicago bar with Old Style on tap and scuffed pool tables and thousand-year-old peanuts, inhaling smoke like it's air for longer than Ray's had his driver's license, "Friend of yours?"
"Um," says Ray, eyes casting heavenward, searching for something quick and glib to say. "You know, he's...whaddya call it. That condition where blinking lights makes you go kinda crazy...?"
"I am most certainly not epileptic, Ray, I am in excellent health," Fraser says stuffily, and then Ray spends twenty minutes maneuvering the impossibly heavy video poker machine into the back of the Riv, because it was either that or arrest the bartender. Ray does refuse to read the poker machine its rights, though, and ignores the fact that Fraser looks kind of disappointed about that. Ray mentally checks Otto's off the List Of Bars Me and Fraser Can Go To Without Incident (they're going to have to start driving to Naperville) and also ignores Fraser's attempts at an apology as he starts the car.
Ray drives them back to the Consulate, Dief snorting in the back next to the poker machine (the guys in Evidence are gonna have a field day in the morning), clenching the steering wheel and listening to the local NPR station, which is playing Evening Classical, in a half-hearted attempt to make Fraser close his eyes and fall asleep so he won't notice any other illegal machines or jaywalking soccer moms before Ray gets him home. Instead, Fraser just brightens and starts telling him all about the particular recording of Stravinsky's Rites of Spring that's playing, meaning that when Ray finally pulls the Riv up to the curb in front of Fraser's building, he's so bored that Fraser gives him a twenty-minute lecture about driving tired instead of a blowjob.
Strike two.
So Friday, Ray decides he's had enough, he really has. Something has got to give, and Ray is not confiscating any more pieces of machinery or stopping for Fraser to halt any more victimless crimes, he is not.
They go out to dinner, Fraser telling Ray very earnestly about some kind of Inuit legend involving a girl and a wolf and some sort of whale-skin drum...thing...and Ray is nodding along and thinking about where they can go that will have not one single chance of an illegal anything going on for Fraser to thwart, and since it's Chicago, that takes some brainpower.
Which--aha! The answer is so simple, it's nearly ridiculous.
"Hey, Benny," Ray says, hands in his pockets as they leave the restaurant, Dief padding happily up to join them. "Wanna go back to your place?"
Because if there was one place in the entire city where nothing illegal is going on, it would have to be Fraser's apartment. Not his building--which, okay, Ray was maybe going to have blindfold Fraser to get him inside and up the stairs, and then hope he could talk loud enough to drown out any suspicious sounds--but Fraser's actual apartment, because if there was anything illegal going on there, Ray would eat his badge.
Which Fraser wouldn't let him do anyhow, because that was probably disrespecting the force or something and he'd give Ray some kind of citation without any authority whatsoever to do that.
Fraser gives him a strange look for the suggestion--because Ray usually makes fun of Fraser's apartment for being very boring, which is the point tonight--but he gives a small shrug and says, "Whatever you like, Ray," which nearly makes Ray trip over his own feet because, yeah, he'd really like to hear Fraser say that again.
Things start out fine, Ray doesn't even make a face at the glass of lukewarm tap water Fraser so earnestly presents him with, or the fact he can feel the half-wolf hair sticking to his clothes, or that Dief is sacked out on the floor and drooling on Ray's shoe. Collateral damage, thinks Ray, and moves a fraction closer to Fraser on the couch. Fraser actually looks around for a moment, probably for someone--or something--to arrest.
This is really not doing a lot for a guy's confidence, especially seeing as how Ray's kind of rusty with guys and is already nervous because Benny is his best friend and he does not want to mess that up, no way. But he's also determined, tenacious, and--when Fraser asks him seriously if there is a statute against ruining the shoes of an officer of the law and eyes Dief suspiciously--really fed up.
"Benny!" Ray shouts, thumping him in the chest. "No. No, there is not a law against dog drool--not that I'm saying I wouldn't support one if it existed--and there's not one for getting dog hair on wool, or having your curtains open at night with a really bright television like your across-the-street neighbor, and no, it's not illegal to serve guests drinks without ice even if you've used your ice cube trays to grow seeds out on your fire escape--"
Fraser looks a bit abashed at that. "It's just that I think having something growing might make me feel more at home, Ray, and the plants I've selected are native to Canada. Besides, the city could certainly use some more oxygenation and the plants will provide that when they reach maturity, so it's not just for my benefit. Ah, there's no city ordinance against growing things on your balcony, is there?" And here, he almost looks hopeful.
Ray is glaring at Fraser, arms crossed across his chest, heart beating a million miles an hour because what the hell. "Yeah, actually, there's an ordinance against just about everything in Chicago. And it's a fire escape, Benny, not a balcony. And what are you gonna do, arrest yourself?" After he says it, Ray groans, because Fraser is honestly looking at his hands like maybe he's considering it.
"If I am in violation of the rules, then I should--why are you looking at me like that? Do you need some more water? I could perhaps find some other container to make ice in, which will of course take a little bit of time, but if you--"
"Benny," Ray interrupts wearily, running a hand across the back of his head. "Why is it every time I get up the nerve to make a move, you try and throw someone in jail?"
Fraser blinks those bright blue eyes at him, which are a little too wide to effectively pull off the completely innocent look. Ray has seen Fraser when he's honestly clueless, and it gives him little frown lines around his eyes because Fraser hates not knowing things and doesn't actually like to be completely innocent because Fraser is, Ray's discovered, really fond of knowing everything.
This is the "whatever do you mean, Ray, I have no idea why your siren suddenly doesn't work when you're trying to use it to bypass traffic to get home before the game starts," face, the one that means Fraser knows damn well what he's doing. Ray's not having any of that, however, and he's a little miffed Fraser thinks that's actually going to work on him.
So Ray starts ticking them off on his fingers. "The illegal parking guy?"
Fraser frowns. "Ray, parking illegally causes a great many problems, such as restricting emergency vehicle access and preventing legally parked cars from being able to safely re-enter the flow of traffic."
"Mmm. The jaywalker?"
"Jaywalking statutes are designed to encourage more vigilance on behalf of pedestrians," Fraser says, almost desperately. "That woman was quite loaded down with bags, and the law was for her protection, she might have been hit by a bus."
"The poker machine?"
"Gambling is illegal, Ray, and I--"
Ray is rapidly losing his patience. "You can't arrest inanimate objects, Benny!"
Fraser holds up one hand, pointing at the ceiling, looking like one of those pictures of Jesus giving a lecture to the masses, and Ray is sort of horrified that his mind just went there as Fraser continues, "We didn't arrest the machine, Ray, we simply confiscated it, though in point of fact--I happen to know a very well-documented case involving an officer of the law and a Dictaphone, in which the officer--"
Ray huffs out a sigh, rolls his eyes heavenward, and decides it's time for Fraser to stop talking. He grabs Fraser's shirt and pulls him in close, kissing him soundly.
Fraser, being Fraser, is still talking for a minute against Ray's mouth, lips moving and sounds escaping that are probably supposed to be words, but then they turn into gasps and Fraser's tongue is in Ray's mouth and yes, that is much better, that is perfect. Fraser's hands are on Ray's hips and Fraser moves him backwards until Ray's back hits the wall, and unless Fraser's got a Dictaphone in his pocket, Fraser is really, really glad to see him and everything is just fine, Christ, finally.
"You're not gonna arrest me for putting the moves on you, are you?" Ray asks him huskily, and then he tries not to groan because Fraser is staring at him with eyes all blurred and unfocused, his mouth wet, his hands fumbling at Ray's shirt.
"N-no, Ray, I--no." Fraser blinks, looking kind of stupid, then smiles--and it's that smile, the I love you just as much as Canada one, and Ray's knees are kind of weak and he can't think straight. "In fact, this is...you should receive a commendation. International relations, showing me the hospitality of your native city--"
"Shut up, Benny," Ray says, but he's smiling his smile, the one that says he loves Fraser even more than sitting in the Riv on a warm spring day, the windows open, eating a nice thick slice of Chicago-style pizza while illegally double-parked. And Ray might make a joke about how he's going to arrest Fraser for playing hard to get and driving Ray absolutely crazy, but he can't do that, because Fraser is kissing him again and Ray figures the teasing can wait until later.
Except that afterwards, when they're both lying sweaty and half-dressed on Fraser's narrow bed, (Fraser, as it turns out, is as enthusiastic about sex as he is about apprehending criminals), Ray turns to him and says seriously, "So? What was that about?"
Fraser has the grace to look a little sheepish, which is rare, and his hair is all sweaty and mussed, which is also rare. Ray thinks he likes this, both the sheepishness and the tousled hair, and makes a vow to get Fraser in this situation as often as humanly possible. "I--Ray, I'm not--that is to say, I'm not very good at this sort of thing--"
"I kinda have to disagree, Benny. That was one hell of a blowjob."
Fraser manages to somehow blush and look pleased at the same time. "Thank you, Ray. I have read extensively on the subject, of course--"
"Of course," Ray says, amused. "Please, go on."
"Er, at any rate, I...reading and doing are two different things, of course, and I was...worried. That I would be inadequate. In, ah, this particular area."
Ray's eyebrows nearly rise to the top of his head at that. "You? Inadequate at sex? Are you inadequate at anything?"
Fraser gives him that glare of his, the one with the firm mouth and the set jaw that Ray will never admit he finds really hot (usually when it's not directed at him). "I didn't know for certain that I'd be any good at it, Ray. I thought about it, and I came to the conclusion that I...." Fraser clears his throat, like he's a presenting a paper. "That I was attempting to stall the moment when you would learn that I am not...all that experienced...in matters of the bedroom, even though I was aware that it was annoying you."
Ray smiles, because that's really...kind of sweet, in a way, even if it's so completely Fraser-logic that Ray has to stop from rolling his eyes and asking Fraser not to do him any favors in the future. "Okay, yeah, I get that. I was worried you were gonna say that you were trying to impress me or something," Ray says, and then starts laughing. "'Cause Benny, never in my life have I ever gotten all worked up watching someone take down a poker machine, I'm sorry to say."
Fraser smiles at him, his hand sliding up Ray's chest beneath his half-unbuttoned shirt, and says, "There's a first time for everything," in a way that makes Ray stop laughing and start wanting to kiss him again.
Which he does. For a nice long time. Until he can't help himself, and he pulls back a little and says, "Only way to get more experienced in matters of the bedroom--Jesus Christ, Benny--is to actually get there and do stuff. With me," Ray adds, just in case that's not clear. "Got it?"
Fraser nods very seriously, moving to shift half on top of him, half-hard again against Ray's thigh. And it would figure Fraser would have some kind of superhuman endurance for sex, but okay, maybe Ray's not going to complain about that. "Understood, Ray."
"And thus the world becomes a safer place for video poker machines everywhere," Ray says with mock seriousness, and then Fraser kisses him--probably just to make him be quiet, but Ray has absolutely no problem with that at all.
Author: sionnain
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: R
Summary: Ray is starting to notice a pattern in Fraser's penchant for off-duty crime-stopping.
AN: This was technically written for the ds_closet Fraser/Vecchio Month, for a free day! But while I had the best of intentions, my timing was a bit too late to get it in on time. I owe a great many thanks to belmanoir for being an awesome and thorough beta as well as a generous sharer of plot-bunnies. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Also, belmanoir gets full points for the title, which is from the Andrew Marvell poem To His Coy Mistress. This is set somewhere in Season 1, early series.
were no crime
It's starting to become a thing.
Ray isn't sure, at first, that Fraser is doing what Ray thinks he's doing. Because Fraser is a Law Abiding Citizen (even if he happens to be a citizen of another country) and it makes sense, it really does, that Fraser really is concerned about illegal parking and skateboarding right next to signs "which clearly prohibit the activity, Ray," and suspicious loitering in front of storefronts.
It's just that Ray is starting to notice a pattern, here. That this happens a lot when they're out for dinner, or after basketball, or just about any time Ray is about to say something like, "So, Benny, you want to make out?"
Okay, maybe not just come out and say it, but hey. Ray's got moves, and maybe he's a little rusty at using them on guys, but he's trying, here. It can't be that different from when he was in college, right?
Then again--it is Fraser, so who knows.
Not Ray, that's for sure. Because Ray has dropped hints, lots of hints, hints that would work on anyone else in the world that wasn't Fraser. And he's thinking about doing something a lot less subtle--like, moving across the Riv and kissing him, because that's about as obvious as you can get, right?--but then he starts to notice Fraser's freakish timing for the apprehension of law-breakers, and it's... ridiculous.
Because Fraser has descended into the weirdest bouts of off-duty law enforcement Ray has ever seen, and it's starting to make Ray suspicious, because he and Fraser; they've got a thing, Ray can tell. They spend every waking moment together, don't they? And sometimes, Ray will catch Fraser beaming at him, bright and happy, a look on his face like Ray's the Canadian--whatever those mountains are in Canada--and you don't just smile at a guy like that because you're pals.
You smile at him 'cause you like him as much as you like cold air and mountains and whatever else Fraser loves about Canada, and Ray's never seen Fraser smile like that at anyone--or anything--else in Chicago that's not Ray. So that's got to mean something, and if Fraser would just stop arresting everything in sight for six minutes, Ray would smile back at Fraser like he was Lake Michigan and the Sox and Chinatown and that would be it, maybe they could finally do something besides smile at each other, for the love of God.
On Tuesday, after Fraser gets off work at the Consulate, they go to the Chinese place and Ray smiles and flirts and drinks very suggestively from his beer bottle. ("Ray, is there something wrong with the curvature of that bottle? Did you know that the shape was specifically designed to maximize surface area and cool quicker, and the color is directly related to the amount of hops used in the brewing process?") So, okay, that didn't work but hey, that's some good trivia about beer, you never know when that might come in handy.
After dinner, when they're in the car and Ray is trying to figure out how to say, let's go back to your place and you can show me your etchings in Canadian, Fraser suddenly leaps out of the car while they're parked at a light.
"There's a crime in progress, Ray, excuse me," Fraser says seriously--as seriously as someone can say anything while jumping out of an idling car--and promptly stops a jaywalker. Ray grumbles a bit, but Fraser looks so proud at stopping the poor middle-aged woman with the harried expression and the mound of shopping bags--well, Ray doesn't want to shout what the hell are you doing? and ruin Fraser's obvious pleasure in keeping the streets of Chicago jaywalker-free. He just takes Fraser home and says goodnight, then bangs his head six times on the steering wheel after Fraser goes inside.
Strike one.
Thursday, they're watching the game at a bar and shooting a few rounds of pool (for peanuts. Actual peanuts, instead of money), and Ray's done a pretty good job of moving in close to Fraser while they're playing, brushing against him deliberately, that kind of thing. Junior-high-dance moves, certainly, but hopefully they're at least making some kind of impression, other than Fraser thinking Ray has some sort of balance issues and should see a doctor.
Right when Ray has Fraser maneuvered somewhere near the wall and is staring intently at Fraser's mouth, Fraser looks all flushed and suddenly decides he might have to arrest the bartender because of the video poker machine that's sitting on the bar, lights flashing cheerily on the screen. Despite Ray's rather pointed comments that Fraser just let it go, Fraser start asking the bartender questions to see if the machine pays out and is therefore illegal.
"--I'm just concerned, you see, because if the machine is actually distributing cash to patrons who successfully win the game-which is not easy, especially inebriated, though I'm sure you're very good about monitoring your customer's alcoholic intake to reduce any risk of driving under the influence-that of course would be illegal, and I would have to arrest you. Of course, it would also be illegal for Detective Vecchio or myself to play the game and find out, and asking you to do it would be akin to entrapment, so...I really think the best thing to do would be to have Detective Vecchio confiscate the machine so that a more thorough examination can be performed legally."
The bartender is giving Fraser a look that says are you out of your goddamned mind, and then he points at Ray and says, in that tone of voice you only get by working in a Chicago bar with Old Style on tap and scuffed pool tables and thousand-year-old peanuts, inhaling smoke like it's air for longer than Ray's had his driver's license, "Friend of yours?"
"Um," says Ray, eyes casting heavenward, searching for something quick and glib to say. "You know, he's...whaddya call it. That condition where blinking lights makes you go kinda crazy...?"
"I am most certainly not epileptic, Ray, I am in excellent health," Fraser says stuffily, and then Ray spends twenty minutes maneuvering the impossibly heavy video poker machine into the back of the Riv, because it was either that or arrest the bartender. Ray does refuse to read the poker machine its rights, though, and ignores the fact that Fraser looks kind of disappointed about that. Ray mentally checks Otto's off the List Of Bars Me and Fraser Can Go To Without Incident (they're going to have to start driving to Naperville) and also ignores Fraser's attempts at an apology as he starts the car.
Ray drives them back to the Consulate, Dief snorting in the back next to the poker machine (the guys in Evidence are gonna have a field day in the morning), clenching the steering wheel and listening to the local NPR station, which is playing Evening Classical, in a half-hearted attempt to make Fraser close his eyes and fall asleep so he won't notice any other illegal machines or jaywalking soccer moms before Ray gets him home. Instead, Fraser just brightens and starts telling him all about the particular recording of Stravinsky's Rites of Spring that's playing, meaning that when Ray finally pulls the Riv up to the curb in front of Fraser's building, he's so bored that Fraser gives him a twenty-minute lecture about driving tired instead of a blowjob.
Strike two.
So Friday, Ray decides he's had enough, he really has. Something has got to give, and Ray is not confiscating any more pieces of machinery or stopping for Fraser to halt any more victimless crimes, he is not.
They go out to dinner, Fraser telling Ray very earnestly about some kind of Inuit legend involving a girl and a wolf and some sort of whale-skin drum...thing...and Ray is nodding along and thinking about where they can go that will have not one single chance of an illegal anything going on for Fraser to thwart, and since it's Chicago, that takes some brainpower.
Which--aha! The answer is so simple, it's nearly ridiculous.
"Hey, Benny," Ray says, hands in his pockets as they leave the restaurant, Dief padding happily up to join them. "Wanna go back to your place?"
Because if there was one place in the entire city where nothing illegal is going on, it would have to be Fraser's apartment. Not his building--which, okay, Ray was maybe going to have blindfold Fraser to get him inside and up the stairs, and then hope he could talk loud enough to drown out any suspicious sounds--but Fraser's actual apartment, because if there was anything illegal going on there, Ray would eat his badge.
Which Fraser wouldn't let him do anyhow, because that was probably disrespecting the force or something and he'd give Ray some kind of citation without any authority whatsoever to do that.
Fraser gives him a strange look for the suggestion--because Ray usually makes fun of Fraser's apartment for being very boring, which is the point tonight--but he gives a small shrug and says, "Whatever you like, Ray," which nearly makes Ray trip over his own feet because, yeah, he'd really like to hear Fraser say that again.
Things start out fine, Ray doesn't even make a face at the glass of lukewarm tap water Fraser so earnestly presents him with, or the fact he can feel the half-wolf hair sticking to his clothes, or that Dief is sacked out on the floor and drooling on Ray's shoe. Collateral damage, thinks Ray, and moves a fraction closer to Fraser on the couch. Fraser actually looks around for a moment, probably for someone--or something--to arrest.
This is really not doing a lot for a guy's confidence, especially seeing as how Ray's kind of rusty with guys and is already nervous because Benny is his best friend and he does not want to mess that up, no way. But he's also determined, tenacious, and--when Fraser asks him seriously if there is a statute against ruining the shoes of an officer of the law and eyes Dief suspiciously--really fed up.
"Benny!" Ray shouts, thumping him in the chest. "No. No, there is not a law against dog drool--not that I'm saying I wouldn't support one if it existed--and there's not one for getting dog hair on wool, or having your curtains open at night with a really bright television like your across-the-street neighbor, and no, it's not illegal to serve guests drinks without ice even if you've used your ice cube trays to grow seeds out on your fire escape--"
Fraser looks a bit abashed at that. "It's just that I think having something growing might make me feel more at home, Ray, and the plants I've selected are native to Canada. Besides, the city could certainly use some more oxygenation and the plants will provide that when they reach maturity, so it's not just for my benefit. Ah, there's no city ordinance against growing things on your balcony, is there?" And here, he almost looks hopeful.
Ray is glaring at Fraser, arms crossed across his chest, heart beating a million miles an hour because what the hell. "Yeah, actually, there's an ordinance against just about everything in Chicago. And it's a fire escape, Benny, not a balcony. And what are you gonna do, arrest yourself?" After he says it, Ray groans, because Fraser is honestly looking at his hands like maybe he's considering it.
"If I am in violation of the rules, then I should--why are you looking at me like that? Do you need some more water? I could perhaps find some other container to make ice in, which will of course take a little bit of time, but if you--"
"Benny," Ray interrupts wearily, running a hand across the back of his head. "Why is it every time I get up the nerve to make a move, you try and throw someone in jail?"
Fraser blinks those bright blue eyes at him, which are a little too wide to effectively pull off the completely innocent look. Ray has seen Fraser when he's honestly clueless, and it gives him little frown lines around his eyes because Fraser hates not knowing things and doesn't actually like to be completely innocent because Fraser is, Ray's discovered, really fond of knowing everything.
This is the "whatever do you mean, Ray, I have no idea why your siren suddenly doesn't work when you're trying to use it to bypass traffic to get home before the game starts," face, the one that means Fraser knows damn well what he's doing. Ray's not having any of that, however, and he's a little miffed Fraser thinks that's actually going to work on him.
So Ray starts ticking them off on his fingers. "The illegal parking guy?"
Fraser frowns. "Ray, parking illegally causes a great many problems, such as restricting emergency vehicle access and preventing legally parked cars from being able to safely re-enter the flow of traffic."
"Mmm. The jaywalker?"
"Jaywalking statutes are designed to encourage more vigilance on behalf of pedestrians," Fraser says, almost desperately. "That woman was quite loaded down with bags, and the law was for her protection, she might have been hit by a bus."
"The poker machine?"
"Gambling is illegal, Ray, and I--"
Ray is rapidly losing his patience. "You can't arrest inanimate objects, Benny!"
Fraser holds up one hand, pointing at the ceiling, looking like one of those pictures of Jesus giving a lecture to the masses, and Ray is sort of horrified that his mind just went there as Fraser continues, "We didn't arrest the machine, Ray, we simply confiscated it, though in point of fact--I happen to know a very well-documented case involving an officer of the law and a Dictaphone, in which the officer--"
Ray huffs out a sigh, rolls his eyes heavenward, and decides it's time for Fraser to stop talking. He grabs Fraser's shirt and pulls him in close, kissing him soundly.
Fraser, being Fraser, is still talking for a minute against Ray's mouth, lips moving and sounds escaping that are probably supposed to be words, but then they turn into gasps and Fraser's tongue is in Ray's mouth and yes, that is much better, that is perfect. Fraser's hands are on Ray's hips and Fraser moves him backwards until Ray's back hits the wall, and unless Fraser's got a Dictaphone in his pocket, Fraser is really, really glad to see him and everything is just fine, Christ, finally.
"You're not gonna arrest me for putting the moves on you, are you?" Ray asks him huskily, and then he tries not to groan because Fraser is staring at him with eyes all blurred and unfocused, his mouth wet, his hands fumbling at Ray's shirt.
"N-no, Ray, I--no." Fraser blinks, looking kind of stupid, then smiles--and it's that smile, the I love you just as much as Canada one, and Ray's knees are kind of weak and he can't think straight. "In fact, this is...you should receive a commendation. International relations, showing me the hospitality of your native city--"
"Shut up, Benny," Ray says, but he's smiling his smile, the one that says he loves Fraser even more than sitting in the Riv on a warm spring day, the windows open, eating a nice thick slice of Chicago-style pizza while illegally double-parked. And Ray might make a joke about how he's going to arrest Fraser for playing hard to get and driving Ray absolutely crazy, but he can't do that, because Fraser is kissing him again and Ray figures the teasing can wait until later.
Except that afterwards, when they're both lying sweaty and half-dressed on Fraser's narrow bed, (Fraser, as it turns out, is as enthusiastic about sex as he is about apprehending criminals), Ray turns to him and says seriously, "So? What was that about?"
Fraser has the grace to look a little sheepish, which is rare, and his hair is all sweaty and mussed, which is also rare. Ray thinks he likes this, both the sheepishness and the tousled hair, and makes a vow to get Fraser in this situation as often as humanly possible. "I--Ray, I'm not--that is to say, I'm not very good at this sort of thing--"
"I kinda have to disagree, Benny. That was one hell of a blowjob."
Fraser manages to somehow blush and look pleased at the same time. "Thank you, Ray. I have read extensively on the subject, of course--"
"Of course," Ray says, amused. "Please, go on."
"Er, at any rate, I...reading and doing are two different things, of course, and I was...worried. That I would be inadequate. In, ah, this particular area."
Ray's eyebrows nearly rise to the top of his head at that. "You? Inadequate at sex? Are you inadequate at anything?"
Fraser gives him that glare of his, the one with the firm mouth and the set jaw that Ray will never admit he finds really hot (usually when it's not directed at him). "I didn't know for certain that I'd be any good at it, Ray. I thought about it, and I came to the conclusion that I...." Fraser clears his throat, like he's a presenting a paper. "That I was attempting to stall the moment when you would learn that I am not...all that experienced...in matters of the bedroom, even though I was aware that it was annoying you."
Ray smiles, because that's really...kind of sweet, in a way, even if it's so completely Fraser-logic that Ray has to stop from rolling his eyes and asking Fraser not to do him any favors in the future. "Okay, yeah, I get that. I was worried you were gonna say that you were trying to impress me or something," Ray says, and then starts laughing. "'Cause Benny, never in my life have I ever gotten all worked up watching someone take down a poker machine, I'm sorry to say."
Fraser smiles at him, his hand sliding up Ray's chest beneath his half-unbuttoned shirt, and says, "There's a first time for everything," in a way that makes Ray stop laughing and start wanting to kiss him again.
Which he does. For a nice long time. Until he can't help himself, and he pulls back a little and says, "Only way to get more experienced in matters of the bedroom--Jesus Christ, Benny--is to actually get there and do stuff. With me," Ray adds, just in case that's not clear. "Got it?"
Fraser nods very seriously, moving to shift half on top of him, half-hard again against Ray's thigh. And it would figure Fraser would have some kind of superhuman endurance for sex, but okay, maybe Ray's not going to complain about that. "Understood, Ray."
"And thus the world becomes a safer place for video poker machines everywhere," Ray says with mock seriousness, and then Fraser kisses him--probably just to make him be quiet, but Ray has absolutely no problem with that at all.