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"Detective Vecchio!" Turbull's drunken sounding voice sounded across the length of the bullpen as he and Fraser walked in. It caught Ray off guard, as did the goofy look on the Constable's face. And as he walked closer, but before he could react, Ray had two overflowing handfuls of awkward Canadian Mountie. "Francesca, look! It's Detective Vecchio! And Constable Fraser!" Turnbull exclaimed as he turned back to Francesca, only elbowing Ray in the chin a little.
"Frannie?" Ray asked, his voice holding a warning, as every eye in the 2-7 settled on him. Ray ignored the odd gazes aimed at him, as well as the throat-clearing from Fraser behind him, and instead put an arm around Turnbull's waist to steady him. "Frannie, what did you do?"
"Nothin', bro," Francesca replied, then tucked an errant hair behind her ear trying to be subtle. But Ray knows that it was just as much a nervous habit for her as when Fraser thumbed over an eyebrow.
Ray believed her declaration about as much as he believed Fraser would tell a lie, so he leveled a gaze at her, giving her the Polish version of the Italian evil eye.
"Okay, okay, fine!" Francesca replied. "He was... Well, he was so excited when he came in looking for you and Frase that someone told him to take a chill pill. And he might've taken it literally."
"Literally, like what?" Fraser asked as he came to Ray's side and helped with the handsy Mountie. At least both Ray and Fraser looked equally odd, what with Turnbull's goofy expression and his awkward attempt to hug both men at the same time.
"Well, he...may have gotten into my purse and taken a Valium. Or two," Francesca replied. "Possibly three."
"Oh dear," Fraser sighed.
Ray gave Francesca a look as if to convey that their conversation was far from over, all while Turnbull abandoned Fraser and nearly caused himself and Ray to tumble to the floor as his limbs flailed wildly. "Hey, hey! Not the hair!" Ray warned Turnbull as he tried to deal with the octopus-like arms. He turned to his partner and asked, "Frase?"
As he pulled Turnbull back between them, Fraser said, "Well, it's a good thing Inspector Thatcher is in Ottawa this week. Perhaps we should take Constable Turnbull back to the Consulate? Let him sleep this off?"
"And won't that be fun, telling the Ice Queen that we put Turnbull up in the fancy bedroom?" Ray answered him. He nodded to Fraser, who helped guide the trio out of the building. "But how are we gonna make sure he stays in bed?"
Fraser gave Ray a look, the smallest hint of a smile blooming on his face. "I'm sure that we have some, let's say recreational items that can be used to keep Turnbull subdued."
Ray didn't understand at first, until he realized Fraser meant the handcuffs and felt-covered ropes that he remembered Fraser producing last time they had the Consulate to themselves, as sudden, vivid images of Fraser, naked and cuffed to the head of Ray's flooded his thoughts. And as they managed to get Turnbull outside and into the car, people would think the reddened cheeks Ray was wearing was from the cold, and not the erotic memories that had suddenly made his pants feel that much more constrictive.