Sign Language
by SDWolfpup
Word Count: 12800
Summary: Ray pulled out his badge and held it out in front of him. “Look lady, I’m a cop, he’s a Mountie, we’re after fruit.” When good stakeouts go bad.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Alliance and the creators of Due South.
Author's Note: Thank you to Pipsqueaky for beta'ing for me, and Brynnmck for assisting with the ending. Any remaining mistakes are mine. There is a sort of convoluted path to get from blank page to this story, and it starts with Tzikeh’s birthday and me finding Scotchsour's Fraser and Vecchio Plot Generator around roughly the same time. (The plot I started with: "Ray and Ben wake up naked, wet, and hungry. Then things get worse.") That path detoured through my two fics, a lot more information about loquats than I ever thought I’d know, and lots of un-related travel, and here we are, many months later with a fic. All feedback gratefully welcomed.
Part 1
"Fraser, I have to go to the bathroom."
"Can't it wait, Ray? We're a bit trapped at the moment."
“It’s been waiting for awhile now.”
Fraser pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side, trying to decipher the faint sounds he was hearing, wondering which of them would be Diefenbaker. Had the wolf been recaptured? Was he injured?
“Fraser-“
“Ray, please, I’m trying to listen.”
“Geeze, sorry.”
There was nothing beyond their own breaths rebounding around the small room, colliding with each other in the small space. Ray sighed with unnecessary weariness, and it was so loud and filled the room so full, Fraser suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. He straightened and folded his arms over his chest. “We need to talk.”
Ray looked up at him from where he was curled on the floor. With his arms around his knees and the wary look in his eye, he reminded Fraser more than ever of a cornered animal. And those are always the most dangerous, Fraser reminded himself, sitting down in front of Ray.
“I thought we were gonna wait and talk about it later?”
“We were. But clearly this issue is on both of our minds, and it’s interfering with my ability, at least, to come up with an escape plan.”
“The kiss was that good, huh?”
“Ray.”
Ray had the grace to look guilty. “All right, all right. What do you want to talk about?”
Where to start? Fraser came around it from the side. “I don’t believe that all you had planned was touching my hand.”
“You better believe it, because it’s true.”
“What if I had responded badly?”
“Ok, I had a plan for that: I would have died of embarrassment.”
“Then I’m sure we’re both glad it didn’t turn out that way.” Fraser smiled, and was relieved when Ray smiled back. It meant he was still with Fraser, willing to follow his lead. It was time to give him a clearer trail. “I have been wondering for a long time whether I was being too subtle with my signals. I know you’re a believer in signs, Ray.”
“Yeah, well. I didn’t know if a guy’s signs would be different, you know?”
“I do. If you don’t mind me asking, what was it?”
The wariness was back in Ray’s gaze, accompanied by fear. Fraser wanted to reach out and touch him, give him warmth and something to believe in, but he needed Ray to find it on his own.
“Do we really have to talk about this now? Those guys could be coming. And what about Dief?”
“Diefenbaker knows the signal to alert us. And I’m sure we’ll hear our captors coming with plenty of time.” He kept watching Ray while Ray focused on everything but Fraser in the increasingly cramped room. It didn’t take long for him to run out of options and meet Fraser’s eyes.
“This isn’t-“
“There is no better time, Ray,” Fraser snapped. “Just talk to me. That’s all I want.”
“I don’t know how to do this, ok?”
“Have you been attracted to men before?”
Ray flushed. “Yeah. A few. But I never did anything with them.”
“Then why now?”
Somehow his skin got even darker. “Come on, Benny. Can’t we talk about something else?”
“No. No matter what we do before Diefenbaker or our captors return, this will be on our minds. We appear to have nothing but time.” It was Fraser’s turn to look away. “And I just need to know.”
“It was your dad.”
Fraser jerked in surprise. Had his father been talking to Ray, too? “How do you mean?”
“You remember last Christmas when you said your dad was in the car with us? Well I’m not saying he’s actually there or anything, but sometimes I feel like I can hear my dad talking to me, too. And I thought it was weird that you’d be the same way, you know? It was a sign. But then there was Victoria and I thought I’d read that sign pretty wrong.”
“Ray, Victoria was-“
“I won’t talk about her now, too, Benny.”
Fraser gauged the warning in his voice and nodded. That was fair. “What made you change your mind then?”
“Hell, I don’t know. Irene’s death, I guess. I couldn’t stand being around you all the time anymore and not even trying. I sort of made a deal with myself that this stakeout was it. Put up or shut up, you know?”
“Not entirely, no.”
“Either I made my move or I dropped it entirely. You wouldn’t believe how many different ways I imagined bringing it up. The hand thing seemed the safest to come back from.” Ray rubbed his hands over his face. “So what about you? Why didn’t you do anything, if you were supposedly so interested.” There was more than curiosity in Ray’s tone, and Fraser felt unexpectedly guilty. But Ray had given him open truth, so he responded in kind.
“I didn’t know how you would react. You go out on dates with women and never men, that I’ve seen. I value your friendship enough that I didn’t want to scare you away.”
“So you thought I was a homophobe?”
“Well I never said that, precisely.”
“No, not precisely, but you were thinking it.”
Fraser swallowed hard. “Ray, I think you misunderstand my point here-“
“You said you didn’t want to ruin our friendship by telling me you wanted me. Ergo, you thought that I would be freaked out by you wanting me. Ergo, you think I’m afraid of gay guys.”
When had they diverged down this path? “Ray, that’s really not the point of the conversation.”
“I think it’s a pretty fair point. That’s pretty close-minded for a Canadian.” It was then that Fraser heard more clearly the gentle teasing that he’d mistook for banked anger.
“Ah. You’re joking.”
“Mostly.” Ray grinned at him, and the feelings that Fraser had been so tightly controlling started slipping free.
“I’m glad you initiated your move, Ray. And now I think it’s my turn.” Fraser rose up onto his knees, and the room seemed to constrict even more around them, pulling them close. He saw all of Ray’s muscles tense, like he was readying for a hit. “Don’t worry, Ray,” Fraser murmured, balancing himself against the wall with both hands while he leaned forward. “I think this will make my feelings clear.”
The ceiling door opened with a startlingly loud creak, making them both jump. Fraser pushed himself off of the wall, and rolled to a different corner, away from any easy shooting access. He crouched there and listened to the angry conversation in Japanese above. And that’s when he finally remembered who the body on the car had been.
“Ray!” he hissed, gesturing for Ray to join him. Before Ray could make it even that short distance, their clothes fell into the room, landing with a clink of belts and buckles. They both stared at the clothes, and Fraser felt more warmly towards his uniform than he ever had in his life.
“Put on!”
Fraser peered up at the ceiling, but he couldn’t make out any details. "Excuse me?"
“Put clothes on! Back soon.” And the door slammed shut again.
“Oh thank God,” Ray said, darting forward. He had his underwear and pants pulled on before Fraser could get the last piece of the puzzle to fall into place.
“Ray. Stop. Don’t put them on.”
He froze, panicked. “Are the clothes poisoned? Is there a bomb? Am I gonna die a horrible death?”
Fraser was baffled by that train of thought. “No, Ray. I just want to finish thinking this through. It’s all related to the body that landed on your car. That was the Japanese ambassador.”
“What?”
“The ambassador who’s been visiting the Consulate. I really didn’t get a good look at him earlier, but our captors were speaking Japanese, and I got enough of a look that I can make the identification. He must have heard about what was going on, came to stop them, and was killed.”
“Or maybe he was running it and they killed him to get his share of the money.”
“If you want the more cynical view, yes.”
“Cynical?” Ray laughed a little. “You are such a Boy Scout. But either way, why keep us here? And then why give us our clothes back?”
Fraser was trying to keep ahead of Ray’s questions; trying to turn the puzzle around in his head to look at it the right direction. He focused on the Ambassador, and the realization of their plan hit him. He saw the ripples radiating out from the dead body, becoming waves that were going to drag he and Ray down. “Oh dear.”
“Oh dear? What ‘oh dear’?”
“I believe they intend to frame us for his death.”
“That’s a stupid plan, we’ll never agree to that.”
“Not unless we’re unable to defend ourselves.”
“Unable to-“ Fraser saw the proverbial light go on above Ray’s head. “Oh dear.”
“Now we at least know what’s going on. Remove your pants, I have a plan.”
“And this plan involves us being naked still?”
“No, Ray. But we’ll have to wear each other’s clothes.”
Ray straightened, holding his trousers close to his chest. “This better be good. I’ve worn your uniform, it’s not that comfortable.”
“They didn’t throw down your weapon, obviously,” Fraser said, while he started trying to fit into Ray’s clothes. Though they were roughly the same height, he was bulkier than Ray, and the pants were uncomfortably tight. “And we cannot be sure where Diefenbaker has gotten off to, or when he’ll return. So surprise is our only ally.” He pulled Ray’s silk shirt on and felt the seams give a little at his shoulders. The clothes smelled of cheap detergent – Fraser was certain that Ray would be angry about the mistreatment of his fine suit with sub par cleaning agents – and underneath it all, the faintest hint of Ray. Not enough, fortunately, to be distracting.
Fraser shot a quick look over at Ray, but he was occupied trying to figure out Fraser’s uniform. “Here, let me help you.” Fraser started the process with sure hands, trying to ignore Ray’s warm breath on his cheek. The cold metal of the buttons chilled his fingers as he slipped them into place, one by one. Ray’s breathing hitched when the back of Fraser’s hand slid across Ray’s neck as he attached the collar. He and Ray were inches from each other. “The plan,” Fraser said, his voice low, “is to send you up first. They hopefully will not be paying much attention, and will just see the red of the uniform and the Stetson and assume that it’s me.” He slid the long, supple leather of the Sam Browne into place.
“But what if they want me to come up first? I mean you. As me.” Ray asked. His voice was as low and breathy as Fraser’s own, his body radiating heat. Fraser felt his own body responding, eager. His fingers fumbled with the lanyard.
“Uniforms create expectation. They will want to be sure of me first. When it’s you that they see, they’ll be startled, and you will have to make your move.” Fraser smoothed out the serge, felt Ray tense.
“That’s your plan?”
“For the moment, yes.”
“Benny, even for you that’s a stupid plan.”
“It’s also our only plan. Don’t worry, Ray, they won’t want to have to drag our bodies from here to wherever they’ve set up their crime scene, and it would be difficult to change our clothes without making it obvious it was done post-mortem, so they likely won’t kill you even if you can’t take them out.”
Ray shook his head. “Great.” They didn’t move, just stared at each other, Fraser’s hands still on Ray’s shoulders. “Hey Benny?”
“Yes, Ray?”
“When we get out of here, it’s still your turn.”
Fraser couldn’t stop his smile, even if he’d wanted to. “Understood, Ray.” They heard noise above and both tilted their heads up at the same time. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
The door creaked open again, and they took a simultaneous step back from each other to the darkest corners of their small room, leaving plenty of open space between them, filled with light. From above, one of their captors shouted, “Red first! Bring ladder up with you!”
Fraser and Ray exchanged nods, and when the rope ladder dropped down, Ray exhaled heavily and grabbed hold. Fraser watched his partner as long as he could, until Ray disappeared into the light, dragging the rope ladder with him, out of Fraser’s reach. His chest was tight as he heard a shout, and then what was most likely furious cursing in Japanese. The loud crack of a gunshot made him jolt, and he rushed into the light, staring wildly at the ceiling. There were scuffling noises above, a shout, and then the solid thud of a body hitting the floor. He was still standing there, staring futilely up at the light when the rope ladder was tossed back down, nearly knocking him over.
“Come on up, Benny, the water’s fine,” he heard Ray say though the blood rushing in his ears. The wash of relief made Fraser dizzy.
He climbed quickly out of the room and was greeted by Ray’s smiling face, though his pale and sweaty skin belied his nerves. Ray was standing triumphantly over the two men sprawled on the floor. He helped pull Fraser the rest of the way up, and they stood there, holding hands, grinning at each other.
“Excellent work, Ray.”
“Thank you, Fraser.”
“Yes, excellent work, gentlemen.” Fraser spun around to see three more men, each armed with forty-five caliber pistols and aiming them square at his and Ray’s hearts. “But not enough to make it out alive.” Fraser recognized the leader as the Japanese ambassador’s assistant. He’d been a quiet figure shadowing the ambassador, keeping meticulous notes and not making a sound.
“What story will you tell about the Ambassador that would cause me and Detective Vecchio to shoot him?” Fraser asked aloud, trying to weave more time out of the man’s clear impatience.
“That, Constable, is none of your business. Although since you won’t be alive to hear the story, I can understand your need to know now.”
Fraser shifted so that he was standing almost entirely in front of Ray, even though he heard Ray’s annoyed grunt and the subtle shift as he tried to move to Fraser’s side. Fraser struggled not to roll his eyes at his friend’s persistence. “Then perhaps you will humor us?” he asked while trying to see into the gloom of the warehouse. There was a flash of movement, but he couldn’t tell for sure if it was Diefenbaker or not.
“Not today, Constable.” He gestured with his gun. “Walk slowly towards us, we need to get you to your proper place. And you’ll have to change those clothes first, as well.” Fraser took a slow, sliding step to the side, now completely blocking Ray from the men. If that was Diefenbaker, he could get one of the men in back, which would provide enough distraction for Fraser to leap at the leader, causing his bullet to fly wide and miss. If that was Diefenbaker.
Ray moved from behind Fraser, stepping up to his side, and Fraser sighed and recalculated his angle of attack. “You’re gonna have to change our clothes yourself. Why don’t you come do it now?”
The leader laughed in an entirely unamused way and cocked his gun. “Why don’t you do what I tell you before I shoot your Mountie friend?”
There was a quiet “oof” somewhere behind the three men, and a cookie box sailed out of the darkness and hit one of the men in the head. Fraser pushed Ray to the floor, landing hard on his friend, just as the leader’s gun went off and sent the bullet whizzing overhead.
“Drop your weapons!” came a decidedly female, and extraordinarily commanding, voice.
“Is that-“ Ray started, but he was interrupted by another cookie box slamming into the face of the leader, who shouted and dropped his gun.
Ray and Fraser glanced at each other, and then Ray scrambled across the floor to pick up the weapon while the leader clutched both hands over his eye. “Jesus, you put my eye out!” he shouted.
Fraser pushed himself to his feet just as Ray rose to his with the gun pointed at the remaining captor.
“Drop your weapon!” Ray barked, sounding less commanding but more desperate than the woman. “Now!”
The final man complied, and put his hands over his head. Out of the shadows, an army of older Girl Scouts materialized, led by the secretary he and Ray had talked with that morning. At quick glance there were 25 to 30 women standing there, looking steadfast and capable, holding cookie boxes in their hands, except for, Fraser saw, one in the back that appeared to have a truncheon. He wondered if truncheons were legal in Chicago, but the dark look on the face of her and her Scout sisters led him to believe now wasn’t the time to ask. Most of them wore jauntily tilted berets, but it didn’t serve to make them look any friendlier. They managed to be glaring at the now disarmed men while also giving Fraser and Ray highly skeptical looks at the same time. Fraser blinked hard, expecting them to all disappear, but they remained. “Huh,” he managed to say in greeting.
The secretary, clearly the leader, sniffed in disdain. “You’re welcome.” Diefenbaker poked his head out from behind her legs and whined.
Later that night
“I can’t believe we were rescued by the Girl Scouts. I will never live this down. And I don’t even know how I’m going to explain why we were wearing each others clothes without getting into the whole ‘naked together for hours’ part of it.” Ray pulled the Riviera to a stop in front of Fraser’s apartment; his whole body slumped with weariness and dismay.
“At least our superiors are giving us tonight to rest before we have to make our reports tomorrow.” Fraser grabbed his Stetson from the dash and played idly with the brim. “Ah, would you like to come up, Ray?”
Ray went still beside him, and when Fraser glanced over, he saw him staring out the window, looking much as he had earlier when he’d first touched Fraser’s hand. “Uh, sure. Yeah, that’d be good.”
“Good.” They sat in that tableau for another minute before Ray shook himself and threw open the door. “Good,” Fraser repeated, following Ray’s hurried pace to his apartment. Diefenbaker followed behind, eventually heading for the fire escape, the click of his nails highlighting his departure.
Fraser had had a lot of time to think since the police had arrived at the warehouse, thanks to the Girl Scouts’ call. Fraser certainly had to admire their preparedness: they hadn’t known there would be people there, but they’d brought First Aid kits anyway, and by the time the ambulance pulled up, everyone had been thoroughly examined and patched up where necessary, and Ray and Fraser had exchanged clothes once more, Ray with only a little grumbling at the tears in his shirt. Fraser knew his own uniform would need to be cleaned of the blood and dirt.
Then, while Ray took his fellow officers through a brief review of the scene and helped make the arrest on the five men, and while the Girl Scouts examined and discussed how to recover their good name, Fraser thought. And he pondered. And he considered. And by the time he shut the door of his apartment and turned to Ray fidgeting nervously at the dining room table, he’d had enough of thinking. It was still his turn, Ray had said, and he would give Ray the definitive answer to the question he hadn’t voiced.
Fraser whistled a little tune, and felt Ray’s gaze go straight to his lips. Fraser let them curve into a warm smile. “I apologize for not ‘making a move,’ as you say, earlier, Ray. But if I had, it would have gone much like this.” Fraser began undoing his uniform while Ray stood utterly still. “The two of us having closed another successful case, you drop me off at my apartment and I invite you up for tea or perhaps pizza, depending on the hour. You would, of course, agree.”
Ray smiled a little at that. “I would?”
“Of course.” Ray nodded, and the way his eyes sharpened made Fraser breathless. Fraser swallowed hard and focused past the sharp lust gathering in his body. “Then I would casually remove my serge, as we are friends and this level of undress is not unnatural. By then I would be watching you, though you wouldn’t know it. How rapid your breathing would be, how, if I looked at just the right angle in the light, I could see the pulse in your long neck.” Fraser could see those changes now, and others. The way Ray had shifted so that he was leaning towards Fraser. How his lips glistened where he’d wet them. The heat in his eyes. Fraser cast his gaze downward and saw that he was not the only one who was already hard.
“And seeing these things,” he continued, setting his serge aside and moving closer to Ray, “I would decide that this would be the perfect night to let you know how I feel about you.”
Ray had to lick his lips once, and then again, before he could speak. “And how is that?” he asked, his voice raw.
But Fraser knew the time for words was over, and he closed the final distance between them, wrapping his hands around Ray’s arms and kissing him hard. Ray opened instantly to him, and the thrill of it sparked through Fraser’s body. It was Ray who pushed his body against Fraser’s, freeing his arms to bring his slender hands to Fraser’s face. They broke apart for a breath, and Ray whispered, “Benny,” before they were kissing again, hot mouths exploring. Ray trailed kisses across Fraser’s face, down his neck, and Fraser groaned when Ray nipped the curve of his shoulder.
For all of his thinking, Fraser couldn’t have imagined how it felt to have Ray in his arms, and Ray pulled him even closer, rubbing up against Fraser with heat and strength. Ray was like a live wire, slender and sparkling and Fraser grabbed on, letting Ray stumble them over and on to the bed. He was whispering endearments, and his voice, the voice that Fraser looked forward to hearing each day, was full of yearning and tenderness and need, drugging Fraser. The world went soft as they removed each other’s clothes heedlessly, throwing them away so that hot skin met hot skin. The brush of Ray’s hair against Fraser’s chest made them both moan with gratitude.
The press and slide of their bodies burned through Fraser. The world was alive with sound and heat, and as Ray’s hand came around him, Fraser cried out. There were words in his ear and sweat on his body and Ray’s hands and lips all over him. He slicked his hand on Ray’s wetness and gripped Ray, and Fraser stopped thinking entirely. He came with Ray’s name on his lips and Ray’s voice in his head, strong and sure like it always was, breaking through the years of silence.
Fraser woke first. His left arm was pinned beneath Ray; his right arm held the other man’s lean body to his chest. The morning light was warm on the bed, highlighting Ray’s leg as it stuck out from under the sheets. He kissed the back of Ray’s neck and gently extricated his arm. Ray stirred a little and then fell back asleep. Diefenbaker had come back in while they slept, and he lifted his head when Fraser got out of bed. Fraser whispered “good morning” in passing.
When Fraser returned from the bathroom, Ray was sitting up in bed, blinking and looking uncertain. Fraser ignored the unpleasant shudder in his stomach and calmly asked “Is everything all right?”
Ray clutched the sheet and dragged it up to cover his chest and then dropped it completely. “This is just…” He gestured aimlessly. “It’s gonna take getting used to. And probably a lot of lying to my mother.”
Sitting down at the edge of the bed, Fraser rested one hand on Ray’s knee. The sunlight had made it warm to the touch. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Ray. It will take time for both of us, I’m sure.” He rubbed his hand down and back up Ray’s calf and felt him shiver. The way he was arching towards Fraser instead of away from him put Fraser at ease. Ray just needed time. “But I think it’s worth it.”
Ray looked shy and uneasy still, so Fraser leaned forward and kissed him again, feeling the tension melt out of him. Ray’s hand came up and cupped the back of Fraser’s head, holding him there with a firm grip. It was Fraser who had to break the kiss first, breathing hard.
“Oh it’s worth it, Benny,” Ray murmured, stroking his hand down Fraser’s arm, until it came to his hand. “What’s that?”
Fraser blinked lazily and looked down at their joined hands, and saw the letter he’d found taped to his door. “It appears I had a mail delivery sometime this morning. I’d forgotten when you kissed me,” he admitted to Ray’s obvious pleasure. Fraser opened and read the letter, then made a surprised sound. “I believe this is a first.”
“What?”
“It’s a letter from the Girl Scouts. They intend to name one of their new cookies after me.”
“They’re gonna name a cookie after you? What are they going to call it, the ‘Frosting Fraser’?”
“No, actually, the Maple Mountie. It’s a maple cookie with a hint of vanilla.”
Ray was smiling at him, and something light and mischievous was in his eyes. “I’ll have to try some of those.”
“Oh?”
“To see if the Girl Scouts managed to make them taste as sweet.”
“Oh.” Fraser leaned nearer to Ray, until their faces were inches apart. He was looking forward to tasting all of Ray’s flavors himself. “You’ll need to have lots of data to make a fair comparison.”
Ray laughed and kissed him, tasting bright and warm. “Now that’s a challenge I can’t resist.” He lay back in the bed while Fraser got up to start the tea. “Hey Benny?”
“Yes Ray?” There was no answer, so he turned to find Ray staring at him, a look of such startling happiness on his features that Fraser couldn’t breathe. Some signs were easier to read than others. “Ray-“
“Never mind,” Ray said, his gruff tone not hiding his joy at all. He kept talking, though, about their adventure last night, and the likely reception of their report this morning, while Fraser filled the kettle with water, slowly, so the faucet wouldn’t overwhelm his voice.
-END-