thelockbox | Benton Fraser

This was a fucking disaster.

These two men had blundered into this situation--walked in headfirst and jumped into trouble, the same way things always happened when Fraser was involved, and now it was up to Ray to fix it. Joy of joys. The thing was he had a choice: he could fuck this up once and for all, throw away his position in the mob, or he could find a way round it. He'd handled mistakes like this before, and god only knew he wouldn't have it so good with the FBI if he fell at the first hurdle--or the sixteenth.

It'd sort of be nice to let it go, though, wouldn't it? He could legitimately claim that there was no way out of this but to let his cover collapse. This was a shitty job. He wanted to come home for good, wanted to be himself, wanted to see his family again. That could happen, if only he let it.

But he had so much good work left to do, no matter his feelings about it. He might even be able to bring down the Iguana family once and for all. Could he let all that go because it might put Fraser at risk?

And how did he feel about this replacement guy anyway? What was his name again?

"Detective Ray Vecchio, Chicago PD." He tossed the badge at the guy, fixing him with a glare. This was a goddamn fuck up. Muldoon was snapping at him about bringing a cop to a meet, and Ray snapped right back "Yeah, well he followed you up here." Like it was this guy's fault and not Fraser's. It was always Fraser's fault.

"I'll deal with it," he snapped, irritably. "If we went around killing every cop that came down on us--well, we got ways. You," he circled two of the guys with a wave of his hand. "Go nextdoor, buy two video cameras and uh--a pair of those novelty fluffy handcuffs. And uh--some jazz. Go."

He turned back to Muldoon, put his hand on the guy's shoulder. "You were wondering how we might open up that border? Cop in our back pocket might just work. Don't worry about this, I got it in hand. I'll see you at the meet."

He had to keep from sighing in relief as the door shut behind Muldoon and his guys, leaving him with Ray, Fraser, and just two of his thugs. "Alright up. Stand up."

Edited 2015-01-18 21:32 (UTC)

[Ray had trusted Fraser a lot in the times they'd been together, he'd had to considering the weird shit they were forced into on a daily basis, mostly thanks to the Mountie in question. So when Fraser had been so certain this figure they were following had been 'the guy', Ray had followed. Of course he had, because he's a moron.

He wasn't really sure what they were expecting by knocking on the door of a possible terrorist, but they'd done it anyway and it'd landed them in a huge pile of fuck. Seriously, one day he really needed to learn to call for back up.

Ray Vecchio, Fraser had said. Armando Langoustini, Muldoon had said. Ray didn't really give a shit who it was, he was more concerned with the guns trained at them and the mobsters making shop talk about cop killing. Fraser owed him big time for this, if they ever got out of it alive, and that was a big if considering Muldoon's track record for leaving a trail of dead bodies. Although he doesn't stick around long, and it's frustrating to witness the guy they've been chasing walk casually away while they're stuck in some hotel room with a group of Italian slime balls.

There's only the briefest roll of his eyes towards is partner before Stan slowly pushes himself to his feet, tempted to resist at first but realising his little dumb act can only get him so far.]

It's cute that you guys think you can get away with this, but we got cops posted outside waitin'.

[Mumbled, hands held neutral by his sides. It's a half hearted attempt at a threat that he already knows isn't going to cause any concern.]

[ Ray rolled up his sleeves, turning back toward the two; his replacement and his Mountie - his beloved Fraser - who even now was looking up at him with a sort of toned down delight. He wasn't good at emotions, and even though Fraser seemed to register the seriousness of the situation, he wasn't managing to hide behind any kind of hard edge. He just looked like a delighted child sitting pretending that he wasn't being given a present when he'd already seen it in the closet. Idiot. At least he wasn't in Mountie red, there'd have been a firefight then for sure.

Ray scoffed, stepping back toward him and pausing. Another step, and he accepted a gun from one of his men, bringing it up to Kowalski's throat, stepping into his space. ]

You ain't got nothing. And your Captain or whatever, back at the station, he's not gonna waste time and resources on anything but a sure thing. This ain't a sure thing.

[ He tilted his face in close to Kowalski's. ]

Thing is I could shoot you dead right now, and nobody would give a shit. So you can play the hard man if you like, but the fact is, the only way you - either of you - are gonna get out of this alive, is by playing my game. My rules.

[ He looked at Fraser. ]

So your name is Ray. Who's your friend? Partner? What's his name?

[Mob guys are an odd bunch, ranging from the excessively stupid to the ridiculously clued in. This guy was a leader, that much was obvious, a higher up in the ranks, and that much was painfully obvious by the blank faced lackeys and the confident way he carried himself. Maybe Ray won't be chest thumping his way out of this one, especially not while they're still out numbered and with fire arms out.

The closeness of the gun sets his teeth on edge, but it's this Armando guy that has him more concerned. That in your face, personal space invasion is a really shitty sign. It shows he's not scared of cops. Won't be his first dealing with this sort of thing either, especially not with his assessment of just how little a dead cop will mean in the grand scheme of things.]

Who?

[Yes, he's playing that game again. Because playing stupid not only avoids the subject, but it really can rile some up and that's damn satisfying.]

Uh? Him?

[He only spares the smallest of head tilts in Fraser's direction, unwilling to move too move with a gun right at his neck. That's not something he'd survive if that trigger finger got a little twitchy, not in the neck and not at this sort of range.]

[ This guy really knows how to play stupid, and at which point it might hurt rather than help. He wasn't stupid, but someone who hadn't played both sides of the fence would have no idea. They'd fall for it. Ray didn't. A dumb person with a gun to their throat would babble, sure, but this was deliberate.

He probably knew that Armando wouldn't deliberately shoot him. Accidentally, maybe. Yes, that was why he was all minute movements and obvious concern. One twitch and it could all be over, and Ray's brains would be all over the wall and Armando would supposedly just shrug and move on.

Which was why he had the safety on, under his thumb. ]

That's right, him. Who do you think I'm talking about, the Tooth Fairy?

[ He drew the gun away, moving around Fraser's chair, laying his hand very gently on his shoulder as he passed around him. ]

He's very handsome. Lumberjack sort, huh? I bet you're into that. But don't worry if you're not, it's not like it matters. [ Ray put on his filthiest Armando grin. ]

Which one of you is gonna wear the cuffs?

[ Fraser had stood when he was commanded to, watching both Rays very carefully. He was trying his best to hold back on his smile, but every time Ray Vecchio looked at him he almost grinned, unable to help himself. Ray's looking healthy, he thinks, tanned and happy. He's very good at this pretense, he considers, cheerfully, but it's surely over now. Fraser's found him, so he can come back home.

He's like that eager dog waiting for permission to greet its previously distant owner. Any second now he'd be told it was okay and he could wag his tail and jump up at him and bite his nose during his happy facelicking.

But it doesn't come. Ray takes the gun, and Fraser feels just a note of trepidation. If Ray isn't going to drop the act, then what exactly is he planning to do? ]

It's okay, Ray. My name is Constable Benton Fraser, I'm with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

[It's only when the gun retreats that Ray can take a proper look over at Fraser, eyes narrowed just slightly as he considers the sight. The Mountie is a freak, he'd established that long ago, but here he is looking more excited than Ray thinks he's ever seen, and all for what? This Italian? Or maybe it's something else.

Freak.

It doesn't help that Benton's so readily giving over his details either, not when they're stuck in a scenario with possible cop killers. Sure, Fraser, mention the word 'police' while you've got mobsters pointing guns at you.

Ray's tempted to chew Fraser out for it openly, but then he's registering what's said by the other and his brain is left slowly trying to piece together what it all meant. Handsome? Into that? Handcuffs?]

Uh. We're not that kinda partners, wise guy.

[See, maybe he's not so dumb after all.]

Look, we got no interest in you. It's Muldoon we want. You let us go now and you won't even get a mention on the report. You and yours get back to your shady business and we go back to ours, yeah?

Yeah? You got no interest in me? You hear the word Iguana and the name Langoustini, and you've not got the slightest idea who I might be? That's bullshit.

[ He sneered at Ray, still hovering close to Fraser's shoulder. He lowered his voice very slightly as he spoke into Fraser's ear. ]

And you--I didn't know the Canadians had police. Aren't you lot always going on and on about how there's apparently no crime in Canada? Heh. Maybe that's why you're down here, huh? Come looking for a little excitement south of the border.

[ Even if Fraser didn't get the sexual element to the comment, he knew that his replacement was completely on to him. Good. A little bit of concern about where this was going was a good plan. ]

I could shoot you, but then I have to hang around here for six hours while they scrub your brain outta the wall, and nobody has time for that.

What I really need is blackmail material. Something you guys wouldn't want getting out in public, something you wouldn't want your wives and coworkers to see, let alone the Internet.

Your pal here doesn't get it, but I'm guessing you're keeping up, aren't you, Detective?

The Iguana's are way above my pay grade.

[He assures, head twisted enough to keep a watchful gaze on the mobster and, more importantly, Fraser. The Mountie isn't stupid, far from it, but he does have a habit for getting himself into trouble at the most inopportune of times. And what's with his weird reactions anyway? Sure, he trusts Fraser to do the right thing, he always has before (usually), but that doesn't mean he can't keep an eye on him. There might just be a touch of concern there too because, fuck, whatever might go down really shouldn't have Fraser involved. The Mountie doesn't even had jurisdiction, he's just along for the ride like always.

There's vague innuendos to add to the previous mentions and Ray's brow furrows just slightly in thought. His mind doesn't want to connect the dots. It seems too far fetched. Keep it vague and don't give the guy any ideas...]

Sure. Blackmail. You wanna keep us quiet. But I'm tellin' ya, we're already gonna be quiet. I got no fuckin' interest in you, you're the Feebs problem.

[And maybe this whole Muldoon thing is the FBI's problem, but they had to stick their dumb heads into it.]

[ Fraser really wasn't getting it. Honestly, what he couldn't work out was why Ray was keeping up this act. He could surely order his goons out of the room and leave them alone for a moment, and there would be tearful reunions etcetera--but it wasn't quite happening that way.

In fact he threatened both of them - a clever act, but that was all it was. Ray wouldn't shoot them, but what could he possibly mean by 'blackmail'? What use was that? And more importantly how?

Fraser shook his head, baffled, convinced that this was all just talk. What was important was that he was an officer of the law, and surely if he made it clear that there was no other way out of this, Ray would let the matter drop.

He raised his chin defiantly, and found Ray's gaze. ]

Ray may not be interested, but I certainly am. In respect to apprehending Muldoon and his known cohorts in this matter, I certainly do have jurisdiction, and interest, and it doesn't matter to me who you are, or who you may represent.

I feel content in saying that you will not get away with this. You may not know anything about the RCMP, but you should be aware that if you kill a Mountie, they will hunt you to the ends of the Earth.

[ The Iguanas were way above this guy's paygrade, even on undercover pay. He shouldn't be here, and neither should Fraser, but when had Fraser ever managed to keep his nose out of anything? More importantly, with the FBI involved he'd have been more willing to take risks, with something to prove, and here they were.

But God only knew he should keep his mouth shut. If Ray were Fraser's partner right now then this kind of reaction would have pissed him off immensely. It pissed him off as it was. The last thing he needed was his guys getting it into their heads that he should have whacked these two already, that he was being unnecessarily lenient. He was supposed to be terrifying, a guy who killed, a guy who tortured. That was what he did.

Ray rolled his shoulders, shot a glance at his replacement, smiled grimly, and then did what he should have done a four years ago--he turned and punched Fraser hard across the face. ]

Alright. [ He rubbed at his knuckles with his other hand. ] Now I feel better.

Mountie in the cuffs, then. You, cop, take off that awful jacket, sit on the edge of the bed. Mikey, cover him. If he tries anything, take out one of his legs.

[If he wasn't feeling twitchy enough already, Fraser's obvious defiance is enough to set Stan right on edge. Stupid, dumb ass, waste of space Mountie. Not only is he going against Stanley's words, but he's also outright endangering himself and Ray. Stubbornness had always been an issue when it came to Benton and that was now being shown full force.

There's not exactly much Ray can do about it though, not beyond a hissed "Fraser" of warning that he knows will do absolutely nothing to shut the Mountie up or take back the words said. If he could move without getting shot, he'd be tempted to sock the Canadian one for being such an insufferable prick, but then... then the mobster is looking right at him with a smile that's not at all reassuring, and swinging his fist right at Fraser.

Whether or not he'd been thinking about doing just that moments ago is irrelevant. That's his Mountie and he's snarling out his disapproval almost immediately. Although his instincts have him jolting forward in defence of his partner, his mind soon catches him, halting himself mid step before he can properly move, if only to try and avoid getting his brains blown out by one of the other guys. All he can do is try and catch Fraser's eyes, somehow reassure.]

Fucker.

[Half muttered under his breath, frustrated at just how little he can do. And that feeling just gets worse as orders are given that he's so wanting to resist, but with 'Mikey' making him and his gun known, Ray's not so sure how much leeway he's going to be given before there's a bullet in his kneecap.]

I'm good. Don't wanna catch a cold, but thanks.

[Jacket stays on like it's as important as armour, but he does reluctantly step towards the bed, moving to perch carefully at the edge while keeping Mikey in his line of sight. Maybe, just maybe, someone would let their guard down eventually.]

[ Fraser didn't expect to get hit, so he was unprepared when Ray took the swing for him, whirling out of nowhere and knocking his teeth together, making him bite his tongue. He gasped, and drew his hand up to his mouth and jaw, pulling away. Hurt flashed in his eyes, betrayal, and he saw no regret in Ray Vecchio's eyes, just the hardened criminal behind them that he had supposedly become.

Ray Kowalski did catch his eye though. He was angry on Fraser's behalf, protective of his partner, and he looked at him in reassurance that matched the concern that he'd been offered moments before. The hiss of warning would make sense in context, of course, but Fraser had thought that he had more than one friend in the room. Now he didn't know what to do, and he was afraid, and the swell of reassurance he felt from Ray was just one small gesture in a suddenly spiraling situation.

He looked imploringly at the mobster Ray as his partner moved away from his side, leaving him feeling exposed in the middle of the room. ]

Why are you doing this?

[ His face hurt, but more injured was his pride. There was a knock on the door. ]

[ Ray didn't like Fraser looking hurt, but there really wasn't anything he could do. He couldn't shoot him, wouldn't, but he had to do something, had to get enough on him that it would keep Fraser and Ray safely away from Muldoon and the FBI and Vegas for the rest of the job. It had to be something good, and it had to be convincing, but it just broke his heart to do it. ]

You got your job, I have mine.

[ Fraser had walked right into this. He had to know that Ray was serious, that undercover just didn't let him be the same man he'd walked away from.

But fortunately there was a knock on the door at that exact moment, and Ray opened the door, letting his goons back in with their shopping bags. ]

You got everything? Good. [ He reached into one of the bags, fetching out the fluffy handcuffs and waving them at Fraser. ] Let's do this, okay?

[ He handed the gun back to the thug he'd taken it off, and slid his now free arm around Fraser's waist, guiding him over to the head of the bed. He stopped him there, and unzipped his short leather jacket, casting a glance toward "Ray Vecchio" as he did. If Fraser was cooperating, he thought, it was out of shock, and not knowing what else to do. Maybe he was suddenly concerned for his partner's safety. If so, then it was about time.

He started undoing the buttons underneath. ]

[Stubborn or not, that hit definitely surprised Fraser. It's obvious on his face the second he recoils and Ray's sure he sees something else there beyond the shock of a fist hitting. This whole scenario is weird and there's an unease in the air that settles beyond mobsters with guns. Ray can't even begin to work it out, because even as a detective, he's got no hope in hell of cottoning on until he pieces together the clues here and there.

Whatever. Forget about the weirdness for now and focus on the importance of getting out of this mess. He and Fraser have got out of far worse situations, all it needs is communication and a will to kick these mobster's asses. And so he still catches Fraser's gaze when he can, still tries to give off an air of reassurance and confidence like they've both totally got this, even while his attention drifts to other things in the room.

There's handcuffs. Ones that look like they belong in the bedroom rather than on a cop, and Ray can't help but narrow his eyes suspiciously at them, even as the two approach. He watches to find out what's going on, and yet his eyes dart every now and then like he's not sure he should be watching, especially as those fingers drift to the buttons beneath.

So maybe they're going for the humiliating set up photo, but whatever, they won't get that far. Ray can easily kick the asses of a few mobsters.]

You two want a private room?

Edited 2015-01-20 20:41 (UTC)

[ Fraser was altogether too startled not to cooperate. This was Ray's job? How could he be so deep undercover that this would be the only way to proceed? Striking him? Whatever else this was?

He didn't resist as Ray lead him aside, but only because he had freedom to look him right in the eye as they stood facing each other, and for a second there was a flicker of his Ray there, green apology that was gone as quickly as it appeared, with not remotely enough time for Fraser to properly absorb and be comforted by it. He didn't know why Ray was undressing him, but he wasn't giving him any cues to understand either, and when he looked to his partner sitting on the bed, the subtle flicker in his expression said: just say the word, we'll fight our way out of here. Just say the word, Fraser.

But he couldn't in all consciense allow it to happen. If they did try and fight their way free, then either of the two men he cared for most in the world might die, or worse still they might actually cause harm to each other. Stanley didn't know who this man was; only Fraser knew. Only Fraser had trust enough that Ray wouldn't be doing any of this unless he had to, and he needed to reassure his partner.

He shook his head for his partner: No, and took a deep breath as Ray pushed his shirt and jacket back off his shoulders, leaving him bare chested and bare armed. ]

I don't think his predilections run that way, Ray. This is obviously some kind of set up, but I can't imagine what he means to achieve by it.

Edited 2015-01-20 21:32 (UTC)

[ Fraser looked just like a kicked puppy. Ray only managed to meet his eyes for half a second before he couldn't stand it, looking away and keeping his eyes off the Mountie's. Looking anywhere else, that was the ticket, especially when he was busy pushing Fraser's clothes off his shoulders, baring his naked - incredibly beautiful - chest. Couldn't look at that, either, which was going to be a problem. ]

Yeah, that's me. Straight as a fucking arrow. And I bet that's true of both of you as well. That's why this is going to hurt. It's gonna test your partnership, but pretty much if you don't play nice with me, then this is gonna be in all your coworkers inboxes first thing. And maybe the Queen of England.

[ He clapped one of the cuffs around Fraser's left wrist, then put his hand on the back of his neck, guiding him to the side of the bed. ]

Lie down on your back. This only works if you're face up. Camera's gotta catch your good side.

[ Fraser looked uncertain, and Ray nodded to Michael. ] I'm going to count to five. If you don't do what I ask, Mikey here is gonna rearrange your buddy's internal organs. One. [ Fraser moved, lay on the bed and cooperated as Ray wound the cuffs through the headboard and clipped them into place. ]

Do you have those cameras set up, yet? Vecchio, you're on. [ He stepped away from the bed. ]

[It was unusual for Fraser to back out of an escape, even if it did involve some danger, but no means no and Ray wasn't going to risk breaking free on his own, not when there was the risk of his partner getting hurt in the crossfire. Fraser must have his reasons, and Ray had to respect and trust that enough that he'd wait it out. There'll be more opportunities, he's sure of it. Maybe it was just the timing that Benton didn't approve of.

Trouble is the window to get away was getting smaller and smaller as handcuffs started to get involved and, despite how strangely distracting that bare torso is, Ray was concerning himself with the fact that a cuffed Fraser isn't necessarily a useful one when it came to overpowering mobsters.

But he watched, staring over his shoulder with a clueless sort of interest. How could he not when there's his topless partner climbing onto the bed?]

Uh?

[Wait. Vecchio? That's him. Is he expected to do something here?]

Me?

[ The timing and odds weren't great. There were four thugs and Ray, four of them armed, and Ray carrying a concealed weapon. Fraser was unarmed, and the detective had been disarmed when he'd been patted down. Sure, by fluke they'd probably pull it off, but Fraser wouldn't be prepared to take that risk today.

Ray circled the bed, coming around to face his replacement. Fraser was watching them closely, his chest barely rising and falling as he avoided breathing too hard. He looked completely helpless, confused, but at the same time defiant, like it was almost his choice to be there.

Ray clicked his fingers in Kowalski's face. ]

Hey, eyes on me. [ He cocked his head to one side. ] You're gonna climb over there and do horrible, filthy things to him. If you don't [ He pressed. ] I'm gonna let each of my guys have a turn instead. They don't want to, but you know--for a good cause. He's not so bad looking, your Mountie friend. Hell, I might even be able to get it up.

[ He laughed. A really nasty laugh. ]

Go on. Give us a show. I can even walk you through it if you don't know how.

[That snap of fingers brings him back to some sort of reality, his head head jerking forwards again to look at the other through narrowed eyes, even while his brows remain creased downwards in confusion. This isn't reality at all, this is some bizarre dream, maybe nightmare. Fraser's topless on a bed, but there's mob guys here and since when did Ray eve want Fraser topless on a bed anyway?]

I don't... uh. What am I 'sposed to do?

[This escalated quickly. Threats of violence and death he could handle, but this? This didn't register with him at all. It's like he understood every word and yet couldn't quite piece them together in a sentence that made sense to him.

Everything points towards the same thing. The cuffs, the bed, the topless mountie, the threads of 'having a turn' and getting it up. But surely that's not what's actually going on here. Maybe Stan just has a really screwed up, inappropriate mind.]

I mean uh. We're both camera shy, you gotta switch off that first. And uh, get your boys outta the room.

[ Fraser was much more with it now. He could see it, where all of this was leading, and Ray--Ray was seriously doing this thing, setting them up to... He couldn't be serious, could he? And yet that laugh cut right into the heart of him, like a knife cutting through everything that had once held them together.

This wasn't the Ray he remembered. This was a...a mobster with only one thing on his mind. No wonder he couldn't meet Fraser's eyes. He wasn't the same person, and right now he definitely wasn't the man who'd become his first real friend. Detective Armani.

He suddenly realised what this was: he was exposed in a room full of strangers, and Ray Kowalski was his only friend, the only person who could protect him from the wolves. ]

Ray, please. [ Called softly. ] They'll-- [ His voice caught, misery swelling in his chest. ] They'll hurt you if you don't.

[ God, if Fraser kept that sort of thing up he was going to break his heart. He just couldn't stand to look at him, but he could convert misery into anger easily enough, use it to fuel the act--he just had to rely on that to get him through this. He'd been doing it for a year now.

But it felt like something was breaking, and he could hardly stand it. He looked so miserable, lying there, so he looked at Ray instead, narrowing his eyes. ]

Or him. But you're right, we got way too many audience members. They're just gonna get in the way. [ He nodded. ] Set the cameras up and get out. Mikey, in the corner. You, pull that seat up round the corner, by the door. Anyone hears a shot, you get back in here.

[ The thugs dispersed, leaving just Ray and Michael in the room proper. ]

Everyone happy now?

[Oh, so now Fraser wants to play it safe. It's good to know that all it takes is handcuffs, skeevy mobsters and guns to finally shut him up and realise the danger. Now isn't exactly the time to joke about that sort of thing though, not when Ray realises just as much as Fraser that they need to play this extremely safe. Maybe trying to fight back isn't the best of choices, but it's still at the back of Ray's mind throughout.

His vague attempt at compromise is met though, and several exit to leave them with two audience members. Still two too many, but it's better than before. It's also less to take on, but how Ray's expected to take down two of them is beyond him. Maybe if he can get Fraser free somehow...]

Yeah, real fuckin' happy.

[Laced with sarcasm and grump as he pushes himself to his feet, his movements quick but showing no aggression. Maybe if he can get them used to a lot of quick moves, then they'll be less likely to expect an attack. It's worked before. Sort of.

Once on his feet he moves around to the bedside, standing near to Fraser's head and yet still keeping his attention on that Armando guy.]

So you uh, you want me to spoon him or somethin'?

[ Ray watched his replacement juggle with his doubts and concerns for a second. He felt the same flash about Fraser: oh, now you realise that things aren't going too great, huh? But this wasn't the right moment to call him on it. Now there were just two guys watching them, Kowalski would be judging his company constantly, looking for an opportunity he could take advantage of. And he'd be trying to think of ways to get Fraser out of the cuffs, too.

He stayed on the other side of the bed, watching Ray retreat away from him. Distance himself a little, make himself feel a little safer--nice try, anyway. It was better than nothing, right? Now it'd feel more like him and Fraser against the world. But the fact was, if a shootout started now, it was probably Fraser who'd get the bullet in the chest. Both of them wanted to avoid that.

Ray licked his lips, then took a step back, moving into the chair beside the bed, nicely out of view of the video. ]

You're the star of this show. There's two ways out of this room, Detective--I get some sorta film I can use, or I shoot you both in the head and throw your naked bodies into the lake. You pull a lot of dead bodies outta that lake, I bet. You know how they look after they've been down there a while. Not as good as being buried in the desert and getting your eyes eaten out by vultures, but you gotta work with what you've got.

[ He bit his lip briefly, and dared a look at Fraser. ]

He's a Mountie, right? So ride him.

Oh Gad.

[Quiet, muttered as his gaze flickers distantly to one side for a brief moment. It's not even concern for himself so much as an immediate aversion to the mental image of bloated corpses that they dredge up from Lake Michigan. Hardly a reminder that's going to get him excited for what's ahead, but it's out there now and he's just going to have to shove back gross dead body mental images before he barfs and instead focus on the task ahead.

The task which appears to involve Fraser and... riding him? That's a new one for him. Sure him and Stella did plenty of things, but it was always her on him thank you very much.]

Sorry, buddy.

[Finally he addresses Fraser, blinking down at the cuffed and topless Mountie thoughtfully as if the whole prospect was all too daunting. Which it was, because who the fuck does this sort of thing with their working partner?

Ray takes it all very literally though, content enough to scramble onto the bed on his knees and throw a leg over Benton to straddle his waist. And there he sat, fully clothed, boots and all, lifting his eyebrows as he jerks his gaze back to the mobster off camera. It's so often difficult to tell if Ray's stupidity is genuine or not.]

All good? We done?

Edited 2015-01-22 16:55 (UTC)

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