"What've'ya got?" Ray looked anticipatorily at Benny. His hand was a beauty, a flush ace-high. No way could he beat that, and Ray didn't care if he *was* a Mountie.

"Once again, a crowded home." Benny announced, leaning forward and dropping his cards on the table, looking very pleased with himself in a quietly Canadian way.

Ray looked at Fraser, seeing himself reflected in those deep-sea eyes, lean and blond and flabbergasted. How could this be? Ray switched his disbelieving stare to his partner's hand, and groaned silently, throwing in his cards. Crowded home. Jesus, Frase. Could remember the whole thing of Paradise Whatever, and couldn't remember basic things like poker hands.

Canadians.

"House," he growled, closing his eyes, half-disgusted, half-admiring. Fraser winced and nodded apologetically.

"Crowded house."

"*Full* house," Ray said wearily, putting one hand to his forehead. Geez, for this he had given up his life?

If possible, Fraser looked even more apologetic, rubbing at his face with his hands. "Full house, full house," he murmured, as if reminding himself of the proper terms, and Ray sighed. He was trying. You couldn't fault him for that. It's just that it wasn't right for one man to be so totally unsuited for poker in all ways, and then turn out to be so darn good.

There was a long pause, while Ray collected the cards and reflected on his apparent inability to win against his partner, running a hand through his spiky hair in frustration. Where was the justice? Fraser was a Mountie--for crying out loud, Fraser'd never played poker in his life before last night--and Ray was *still* losing.

What the hell do they feed them up in the Arctic, anyway?

But all things considered, he was too mellow to be too pissed off at Benny's odds-defying streak of luck. The woman was the bad guy, and the damned Mountie had known all along. Even though he hadn't told Ray--which didn't rankle. Nah. It didn't. Even though Fraser hadn't told Ray--his partner, his best friend, and his lover--that he knew that the woman he appeared to be falling in love with was really the bad guy...

And that he'd kissed her--sorry, *she* kissed *him*--not that he could blame her...

But he was cool with it. No problemo, you know? No skin off his nose--if every woman in Chicago wanted to liplock with his Mountie, that was okay, 'cause he knew who the Mountie was coming home with, and who the Mountie'd be fucking that night.

Okay, okay, so maybe it rankled. Just a little.

No more than hearing about the other Ray rankled--but again, he knew which one Benny went home with. But before he could get depressed about that line of thought, Fraser caught his attention in another way.

"I'll take that air, now, Ray."

Ray looked disbelievingly at Fraser, who was leaning back, smiling that small, beautiful smile of his. The one he always had when he was teasing his friend. Well, the best way to treat Benny's sense of humor was to ignore it, so...

"I'm tapped out," he said, grinning a little. Top that, Mister Smartie-Mountie.

"I'll accept an IOU," Benny suggested innocently. Pointing out the logical solution. Sure. Logical back home in Freezerland, maybe. And smiling smugly, in that hidden, Mountie-like way he had. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"An IOU of air?!"

Fraser looked grave. "I want you to honor your wager," he explained patiently, with apparently boundless concern that Ray not prove himself a low-down dirty welsher for not paying Fraser back his air.

"That's stupid," Ray said, shaking his head and smiling almost against his will. How did he do it? How could one man be so...so completely and totally out there, so darn weird, so...Fraser.

And right now, Fraser was getting a very suspicious look on his face, the face that so many people thought was forthright, guileless, downright innocent, even. Too bad they couldn't see it right now, 'cause right now, that was a damn fine looking look on his lover's face.

Dief barked twice. "Shut up," Ray muttered darkly. That was the last thing he needed, some deaf wolf getting on his case.

But Fraser was sitting forward now, looking beyond edible in that tux of his, looking like some sorta English lord, prim and proper and formal and vaguely, what was the word, debauched, with his jacket gone and his suspenders showing. Ray stared in disbelief as Benny's hands went to his tie, and pulled the black scrap of fabric away. Was he insane?

"Fraser, what are you doing? We're in the *station,* if you haven't noticed." The place had been deserted of cops for hours, but Ray still glanced around nervously, looking for the janitor. He'd been taking random turns through the bullpen for the past half-hour, in the nonchalant attempt to look as busy as was possible while actually doing nothing. But even that lazy bum could decide to make another pass, and from the look in Benny's eyes...

Well, let's put it this way, having a janitor interrupt them with his pants down and Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police wrapped around him like a black-tie limpet was *not* the way he was planning on breaking it to Lieutenant Walsh about this new development in American-Canadian relations.

Fraser simply looked at him in that secretly-amused way he had, as if he knew *exactly* what Ray was thinking, and reached for Ray's fly. And unzipped it. And drew out Ray's cock, still soft but already growing hard.

Right in the bullpen. Benny was doing this right in the bullpen.

On the other hand...how bad could it be, really? Damn, Fraser was really good at that...

"Fraser...ohhhhh...Fraser, this is stupid. We can't do this. Frase-ohhhh." Ray was making a valiant attempt to convince Benny, aware that while Benny was doing *that* with his rapidly-taking-over-all-brain-functions dick, his argumentative prowess was suffering severely. "Come on, Frase, we can't do this here. What if someone saw us?"

"Don't be silly, Ray," Fraser told him, sitting forward a little more, that small smile growing. "The angle of the doorway makes it impossible for any casual onlooker to see either my hand or your lap," he said confidently. "And any onlooker who is more than casual would have to travel approximately eight-point-five seconds to reach an angle where they *could* see your lap, allowing ample time for us to return to a more discreet condition," Fraser concluded, looking faintly triumphant in his artless Canadian way, and Ray snorted. Unfortunately, the way Benny was stroking his cock long and slow was also having an effect, and Ray's protest lacked a certain resolute quality that Fraser was apparently taking for assent.

"Don't--ahhh--try that Mountie look on me, Fraser, not when you've got your hand on my dick in the middle of the bullpen. I don't buy it one second. And I don't buy that whole angle thing, either," growled Ray, in a failing attempt to be stern. If possible, Fraser looked even more innocent. And stepped up the rate of his fondling of Ray's dick.

"Oh. Well, then, Ray, would you believe me if I told you that I just heard the janitor leave for the night? And there is no one in this part of the building who could interrupt us, all of them being absent or otherwise occupied?"

Ray tried to answer, fully intending to tell Benny that no, that wasn't enough, and they really should probably just zip up and go to his apartment and continue this in more private circumstances--like, not in the middle of half the police department--when Benny made one more squeeze, rubbing the sweet spot underneath the head, ending the whole discussion.

Ray came. Shuddering, biting down on a yell, he spilled cream over Benny's knuckles, sagging against the desk as he fought for breath and Benny withdrew his hand.

Damn, that Mountie could really rev his engine.

When he'd finally recovered, he looked up, ready to give Benny a piece of his mind--how dare Benny make him come when he was trying to be prudent--

And suddenly, he saw, really *saw* Benny's face, handsome and earnest and just a little bit smug--gotta be careful of that, Frase, he thought, they'll take away your Mountie hat for that--and those warm blue eyes just a little bit soft. Affectionate-like.

What if he'd lost him today? What if he'd been too late, too slow, too dumb, and hadn't gotten there in time, figured it out in time, and he'd lost him? It could have happened. It could have happened.

And he remembered how much he he loved this damned annoying Canadian. How much he'd miss this, this insanity, this rapport, this partnership--miss him, if he was gone. And how close he'd come to losing him again tonight.

Fraser was absently licking Ray's come off his hand, watching Ray with those ocean-dark blue eyes. He was quivering faintly, breathing just a bit fast, and a bulge under his tuxedo pants illustrated his arousal, but he was holding back, waiting for Ray. Waiting for them to do this together.

Without a word, Ray went to his knees, reaching out to undo Benny's zipper, spreading the tuxedo material wide and easing out his cock. Hard and already starting to seep droplets of musky fluid from the tip, it was as beautiful as the rest of him, and a silent testament to the fact that Fraser was made as helpless by their lovemaking as Ray was.

He licked the fluid away, licked a swirling spiral around the head, then took the whole delicious cock in his mouth, sucking hard, curling his tongue up and down the shaft the way he knew Benny loved. Then he settled into a steady, bobbing rhythm and motion--nothing fancy, just some pure sweet cocksucking that soon had Benny groaning and shuddering.

It wasn't long before he had Benny gritting back a yell, those big hands clenching into his short hair, spilling his seed for Ray to drink down. He swallowed it all, licked up the overflow, then tucked Benny back into his pants.

"Come on, Fraser," he said, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "We'd better get outta here before someone comes." He smiled slowly down at Benny, and grinned to see the rising flush on his friend's face, see that magnificent chest heave just a little as he panted. Benny rose quickly, nodding as Ray handed him his jacket.

"Understood, Ray."

"And Benny?" Ray stopped him with a hand on his chest, glanced around to double-check that no one was there, and leaned in. The feel of the Mountie's mouth against his made him shiver, and he deepened it almost blindly, for one brief moment lost in his lover's taste. Then he drew away, breathing hard and noticing with no little pleasure that Fraser was panting slightly.

"There's my IOU for the air."

The End