PHOBIC

By Sarah Saint Ives

DISCLAIMER: This is a due South SLASH fanfic.

PAIRING: RayV/Benny

SUMMARY: Pretty much just plotless sap.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: *Branson, MO is a great vacation spot!*

PHOBIC

By Sarah Saint Ives

"This has been a great vacation. You like Missouri?" Ray Vecchio followed Fraser’s skyward gaze. "Getting a little cloudy, don’t you think?"

"Yes, and the wind is picking up." Fraser answered.<BR.
"So you *don’t* like Missouri?"

"I loved Branson. And it’s a beautiful state." Fraser said, indicating the green fields to the passenger’s side of the Buick Riviera. He reached to turn on the radio.

"What’s wrong, Benny? You’re acting worried."

"I think there’s a storm brewing." Fraser said, glancing upward again.

"Does that frighten you? Are you scared of storms?"

"I’m *cautious* of storms." Ben retorted. "And for good reason. Storms can be dangerous!"

Ray smiled at him, stretched a hand across to pat his shoulder. "Don’t worry, Benny. I won’t let you get blown away."

On the radio, a reporter was speaking in urgent tones about the threat of tornadoes. 'Take cover immediately if you’re presently northeast of Branson. Tornadoes have been spotted and are headed directly your way!'

Ray pulled the car to the dirt shoulder of the road and looked around. "I don’t see any tornadoes!" he protested. "Where are they?"

"If you can see it, it could already be too late!" Fraser said. "Let’s find shelter, Ray."

"Shelter. You mean a basement or...." His hazel eyes picked out a concrete-domed cellar in the field to their left. "Or that."

"A cellar," Fraser said, getting out of the car. "Let’s go, Ray."<BR.
Ray groaned. "Wait a minute! Let me find a..." He rummaged in the glovebox until he found a flashlight. Then, getting out of the car, he opened the trunk and took out the emergency blanket and their traveling cooler. "I’m just glad you left Dief with Frannie. Otherwise, we’d have no food left."

"Me, too, Ray. And he’s extremely phobic of storms."

"You mean more than *you* are?"

"I’m not phobic, Ray."

"I see. Whatever you say." Ray led the way to the abandoned old cellar twenty yards on the inside of a sagging barbwire fence. He lifted the waterlogged door and shined the flashlight down inside. It smelled of mildew and mold, but was relatively dry. The concrete steps going downwere solid, did not crumble as he entered the small space.

Fraser followed, closing the door after them.

"Why did you close the door?" Ray asked.

"It has to be closed to keep the storm out." Fraser answered. He studied their surroundings. A wooden bench was the only piece of furniture in the darkened cell.

Ray sighed and wiped a layer of crust from the bench before he sat down. Fraser sat close beside him, quietly accepting half the blanket as Ray spread it out over them. The Chicago cop laid an arm across the back of the bench, wrapped it warmly around the mountie. "Come here," he said softly. "At least we can stay warm."

Ben purred at the contact. "Thank you, Ray."

"You hungry?"

"No. Are you?"

"No."

Ray felt the Canadian melting against him, his head resting on hisshoulder. He folded him in closer. "This is pretty comfortable."

"Yes, it is."

Ray gently rubbed his cheek against the mountie’s thick hair and smiled to himself. "Do storms make you this cuddly or is the confined space?"

"I don’t think it’s either one, Ray," Fraser said thoughtfully. "I could put space between us if you don’t...."

"No, that’s okay. I like it," Ray said quickly. "Nice." He began to rub Ben’s shoulder and upper arm.

A sudden smash from above them caused them to jump. The racket increased, horrible sounds that caused their embrace to tighten.

"That’s a big storm up there." Ray said, testily.

Another hard crash on the wooden door worried them.

"Ray!" Ben clung to him for dear life.

"It’s okay, Benny. I’ve got you, babe."

The door banged violently in the wind several times, finally slammed with a resounding roar. An extra crash from above ended the violence.

Benton Fraser was whimpering on Ray’s shoulder. After some time of inaudible moans and sobs, his first distinct words were finally cried into Ray’s ear. "I love you, Ray!"

Ray couldn’t pull him any closer. The mountie was already practically in his lap. He faced him, too unnerved to do anything but kiss him. And he kissed him. Panic morphed into passion. Over and over they kissed,lips and tongues caressing, tasting. Phobia became obsession. Friendship became love. There was no more fear, no hesitation as they undressed and frantically explored each other’s bodies.

An hour later, when the wind had subsided, when the storm was over, whenthe men were both sexually sated, tranquility returned. Still embraced, still sharing soft kisses, they were feeling no qualms about what had happened.

"I love you, too, you know?" Ray said.

"I know," said Fraser. "Do you think we’re trapped in here?"

"We won’t know til we try the door."

"Should we try it and see?"

Fraser shook his head and stretched like a lazy cat. "I’m pretty comfortable right now." he said.

"Yeah." Ray said, settling in. "Me, too."

the end