[ He wants to stay, but there's no staying, and the moment Ray is off his back, Fraser spins clean of the couch too, much more neatly getting his feet under him. It's two big steps to the desk - two steps away from the handcuff keys on Ray's belt - but Fraser isn't aiming for them, already well aware he wouldn't have time. He can't get his shirt on, nor can he possibly hope to hide the handcuffs out of sight of Turnbull, but he does at least get to the desk in time to grab his hat, upturning it with his hands on top in such a way as to conceal both his arousal and the splash of come on his bare stomach.
That's it. That's all he has time to do.
"I'll save you, Sir!" Crash
He squared his shoulders, glanced at Ray to make sure he was ready, and winced as the axe hit the door again. That was going to come out of his pay, he just knew it. Crrrrrk ]
Turnbull. Turnbull! [ The door took another assault before the Mountie on the other side of it stopped swinging, pushing his head through the hole he'd made.
"Are the Americans attacking again, Sir?" Panic turned to confusion as Turnbull looked at him. It was a good question. Not the Americans attacking question, the question of what the hell was going on. Fraser was flushed, his ears pink, his chest bare and slick with sweat, handcuffed and holding his hat. ]
Actually Turnbull, the Detective and I were playing a game. You see, the rules are really rather complicated, I'd be hard pressed to describe them to you as I'm not full sure I understand them myself.
[ "A game. So you're not dying?"
Dying? He'd sounded like he was dying? Fraser coughed, glanced at Ray. ] No, no. I'm quite fine. In fact I was...winning. I believe. Isn't that right, Ray? So you can rest assured that everything will be... [ Just fine. He knew he sounded nervous. There was no way Turnbull was going to fall for any of this.
Except for how he did: "It looks rough. Is it an American game?" Fraser nodded. Turnbull glanced at Ray. "You'll teach it to me?"
Fraser interceded quickly, stepped forward toward the door and put on his best smile. ] So long as you head back downstairs now. And ah--if it sounds like I'm dying...
[ "It's because you're winning, Sir. I understand. Goodnight." He strode away from the hole, and only then did Fraser allow himself to breathe, dropping his head against the cracked and splintered wooden door in semi-exhaustion. How they'd managed to survive that he had no idea. ]
no subject
That's it. That's all he has time to do.
"I'll save you, Sir!" Crash
He squared his shoulders, glanced at Ray to make sure he was ready, and winced as the axe hit the door again. That was going to come out of his pay, he just knew it. Crrrrrk ]
Turnbull. Turnbull! [ The door took another assault before the Mountie on the other side of it stopped swinging, pushing his head through the hole he'd made.
"Are the Americans attacking again, Sir?" Panic turned to confusion as Turnbull looked at him. It was a good question. Not the Americans attacking question, the question of what the hell was going on. Fraser was flushed, his ears pink, his chest bare and slick with sweat, handcuffed and holding his hat. ]
Actually Turnbull, the Detective and I were playing a game. You see, the rules are really rather complicated, I'd be hard pressed to describe them to you as I'm not full sure I understand them myself.
[ "A game. So you're not dying?"
Dying? He'd sounded like he was dying? Fraser coughed, glanced at Ray. ] No, no. I'm quite fine. In fact I was...winning. I believe. Isn't that right, Ray? So you can rest assured that everything will be... [ Just fine. He knew he sounded nervous. There was no way Turnbull was going to fall for any of this.
Except for how he did: "It looks rough. Is it an American game?" Fraser nodded. Turnbull glanced at Ray. "You'll teach it to me?"
Fraser interceded quickly, stepped forward toward the door and put on his best smile. ] So long as you head back downstairs now. And ah--if it sounds like I'm dying...
[ "It's because you're winning, Sir. I understand. Goodnight." He strode away from the hole, and only then did Fraser allow himself to breathe, dropping his head against the cracked and splintered wooden door in semi-exhaustion. How they'd managed to survive that he had no idea. ]