Benton Fraser (
dogsled) wrote in
thelockbox2014-07-06 10:57 pm
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Benton Fraser | Due South
![]() BENTON FRASER。 | |
"You know, Fraser, when they offered me this assignment, they made it sound kind of normal. They say, 'Hey, Ray, here's a chance to start over, ditch the past.' 'What's the catch?' I say. 'Oh, your partner's Canadian.' Canadian? I got nothing against Canadians, except for the time when they won the World Series, which I'm willing to overlook. But at no time did they say, 'you'll be working with a Mountie who's got a wolf that's a florist'" |
NEW READ JOURNAL CREDIT |
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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?
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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.
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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?
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[ 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?
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[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.]
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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.
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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.
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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.]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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?
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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.
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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. ]
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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?
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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'?
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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.
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[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?
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At least Fraser was playing his part, though. Fraser knew what was happening now, and at least for the moment he didn't see any other way out. But he was smart, he could still make trouble. Right now the only trouble Ray had to worry about was the Detective. He was being intolerable. He deserved to get smacked in the face, honestly.
Patience worked better, though. He sneered at Kowalski and leant slightly forward. ]
I said I need something I can use. Take off the jacket. The shirt too. And move your hips. The camera wants to see some action, and so do I. And if I don't see some action...
[ He kneaded his thumb into his eyebrow, shrugged and then leant back, sighing softly. ]
It's up to you. Make me believe it, or don't. We can always do this the hard way.
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[The stupid can only be upheld for so long before everyone grows tired of it. It's a good delaying tactic but remaining clueless won't get them out of this.
But Ray hates doing as he's told, especially when it's coming from scumbag criminals, and right now he's thinking of every single way he can make this as awkward for the Italians as possible. Rock the boat without ever actually tipping it, just how he liked to live his life. But even with his reluctance, he still shifts enough to wrestle the jacket from his shoulders, and then proceed to peel off the several other layers that had kept him warm out in that bitter Chicago weather. The under shirt only lingers long enough for him to huff out a sigh, and then it's tugged over his chest and dumped aside with the rest of the discarded clothing, leaving a lithe torso and pale skin.
So now they're both topless and maybe that'll be enough to keep the viewers satisfied, but there was still the believability of it to consider.
There's not one smart ass thing he can think to say that'll make this better for him and Fraser, so instead he returns his partner's stare and offers one single nod before slowly rolling his hips. There's not much to it, both hands still resting idly at his own thighs, but he sure can work those hips of his, possibly thanks to plenty of years dancing. He needs to avoid thinking about this. Just got to channel his hate throughout, otherwise this could get really awkward really fast.]
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That last layer, as it was peeled off, and Ray was exposed--this was a different kind of intimacy, and Fraser didn't know how to respond to it exactly. The definition of muscles, the dark red of his nipples, the paleness of his skin. Fraser's fingers twitched in their restraint, as though he desperately wanted to touch. He did, but not necessarily here. Not like this.
And then Ray moved, and his problems crystalised.
Okay--okay, he hadn't expected this. He hadn't prepared for it. Ray rolled his hips with an athletic agility, and Fraser made a broken sound, managing to bite down on it only for a second. The second roll made him moan, and the noise was helpless, and too loud in the small room.
Nobody would ever want to be undermined like this, least of all Ray, but Fraser knew it would. He couldn't hide that it was doing something for him, and Ray would question why. But the truth was... God, people just didn't touch him like this very often, and worse than that, Ray was special. He did attract him, not that Fraser would ever let it imperil their relationship. ]
I'm sorry. [ He said breathlessly, after a second. ] Ah--I'm sorry, Ray.
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He should have expected this from Benton, really. It's not exactly a surprise that the Mountie is so repressed that that slightest movement has him gasping, but this is hardly the time and place for him to discover his sexuality.]
Fraser! [Hissed quietly in warning, as if somehow that'll help the situation.
He's not sure exactly what annoys him about the whole situation, not yet anyway, but having Fraser moan with each roll of his hips really does throw him off his game. It's agitating enough that Ray decides to take action, moving a hand to press it tightly against Fraser's lips, hips halting as he stares down at his partner.]
Don't.
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