Author's website: http://unhinged.0catch.com

Disclaimer: Not mine. They tend to get hurt when I'm around.

Author's Notes: The last story in the series, I promise. No, really!

Story Notes:

This story is a sequel to: sexandlies

Title: Unarmed
Pairing: Oh please!
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ray gets his cast off, Fraser confesses a fantasy. This is a follow-up to sexandlies, and the final story in the trilogy. I think.

Unarmed
By MR

I figure it can go one of two ways. Either Fraser's gonna be so frustrated he'll jump me in the hospital parking lot and do me in the back seat of the GTO, or he's gonna make me suffer first. I think it'll be the latter, since that's what I'd do if our positions were reversed.

Yeah, I know I'm rotten. But how the hell was I supposed to know he was gonna take the ban on sex seriously? By the time I finally came down off the painkillers and realized he thought I meant it, I was having too much fun watching him bite the bullet to tell him it'd been a joke. Trust me, if I'd wanted to go at it I would've, fucking cast or not.

"There we go Mr. Kowalski." The cast splits into two halves and I flinch. Can't help it; sounds like someone stepped on a nest of roaches. "How's it feel?"

I haven't seen my left arm in six weeks, and truth to tell it's sort of pale. Reminds me of something that's been buried a while then dug up. "It looks weird."

"Of course it does," Dr. Okiishi's over at the sink, washing his hands. "It's been stuffed inside a sweaty gauze and fiberglass cast for a month and a half."

"It's still kind've puffy, too."

"That should go down in the next day or so." He turns around, drying his hands. "The x-rays were excellent; the bone's well-healed."

"So it shouldn't give him any trouble then?" This from Fraser, who's watched the whole procedure from a stool next to the gurney.

"Not unless he's planning on taking up judo in the next month or so." The doctor's scribbling on my chart. "Have you got any pain pills left?"

"Four or five."

"Feel free to take a couple tonight, if it hurts too badly for you to sleep. After that, ordinary Tylenol should work. Here," he rips off the sheet he was writing on and hands it to me. "This' just a reminder of what I already told you. Be careful the next couple days; try to avoid lifting heavy objects or doing anything that'll put a lot of torque on the wrist. If the swelling hasn't gone down by Friday or it start hurting badly, I want you to come back here immediately, okay?" I nod. "Good. Now sign here."

I sign, and then hand the sheet to Fraser, who folds it neatly and stuffs it in his shirt pocket. I get tangled up a minute putting on my jacket (gonna take a while to get used to the cast not being there), but figure it out without Fraser's help. The doctor, Fraser and I shake hands all around, he wishes me well, and we're out of there.

"And why can't I drive?" I'm glaring at Fraser over the top of the car.

"The doctor said not for you to do anything that would put too much strain on your wrist, Ray," he's the perfect picture of bland innocence. "Given the way you drive, I'd rather be safe than sorry."

Grumbling, I get in, only to have him come around and fasten my seatbelt for me, then carefully close my door.

I wait till we're out of the parking lot and on the street before I ask. "When'd you figure it out?"

"Truthfully?" I nod. "About 48 hours after the accident."

I realize my mouth's hanging open and close it. "Why didn't you call me on it?"

He's quiet a minute, tapping a finger on the steering wheel. "I thought you'd eventually break down and admit it. When you didn't...it became something of a contest to see who was going to fold first."

"And neither of us did."

"Which means we've spent six weeks kissing and engaging in mutual masturbation when we could've been having a great deal more fun."

I crack up. I can't help it. He's got this vaguely wistful look in his eyes, like a kid who's had his ice cream cone taken away by a bully.

"Look," I manage, once I settle down enough to talk, "It's my fault you've spent the last six weeks suffering..."

"I wouldn't exactly say I've been suffering, Ray."

I glare at him and he shuts up. "I wanna make it up to you. Believe it or not, I feel bad about the way I've been teasing ya the last couple of weeks. Tell me something you've always wanted to do." He's frowning again; I restrain myself from reaching over and smacking him upside the head. "Sexually, Fraser. You've gotta have some sort of fantasies running around in that devious little brain of yours. Tell me one, and as long as it doesn't involve extreme pain, whips or cross-dressing we'll do it."

He's tapping the steering wheel again; it's a habit he got into after he started driving, because he insists on keeping both hands on the wheel, which means he can't rub his eyebrow. "No cross-dressing?"

"The only way you'll get me into a bra will be if you put it on me after I'm dead."

"Well we know having sex in the shower doesn't work," he says, still frowning. "I'm assuming anything involving public exposure is also taboo?"

"If it involves you and I doing the horizontal mambo in the squad room at the 27th, yes."

"In front of the Sears Tower?"

"No. Though ya know...I've always had this fantasy about doing it in the Queen's bedroom at the Consulate."

"Ray!" He looks at me like I suggested he give me a blowjob in the Ice Queen's office while she's in attendance.

"Sorry."

"I should hope so." He's blushing, which I find unbelievably sexy. "Well, there's that thing I wanted to do a few months back and you didn't."

It takes me a minute to figure out what he's talking about. "You mean the thing with the handcuffs?"

"Yes."

I turn the idea over in my head. Truth to tell, I've never been quite sure why I didn't wanna do it the first time he suggested. It's not like I don't trust him. "Okay. We can do that."

"Actually, we can't."

"Of course we can. I'm okay with it, as long as you don't leave me trussed up all night."

"Your wrist. While I doubt Dr. Okiishi had that particular torque in mind, your wrist is still swollen enough to make cuffing you difficult. And painful. I'm not going to do anything that hurts you any further, Ray."

"Hey." I reach over and stroke the back of his neck. "How many times do I gotta tell you it wasn't your fault?"

"Possibly for a long, long time." He looks at me, smiling ruefully. "Does it still hurt?"

I shrug. "Kinda."

"See? It still hurts, and yet you're offering to let me do something that would only hurt you further." He gives an exasperated sigh. "We're both to blame here. You for not admitting you were joking, and me for not calling you on it after I realized you weren't serious. There's no need for you to make any recompense to me for being too stubborn to give in."

"We're a pair, aren't we?"

"What my father would refer to as a matched set."

"Okay, I've got a new idea." We turn onto our block and pull up in front of the apartment house. "What say we go upstairs, I take a bath and scrub some of the dead skin off my arm, cause it's really starting to gross me out..."

"I could help."

"You do that. You help me. We'll order a pizza from Tony, maybe watch "Bullet" again, if you don't mind..."

"Not at all."

"And see where it goes from there? And in a couple weeks, when my wrist's back to normal and you've quit feeling guilty for the world's problems, we can try the thing with the handcuffs."

Fraser's grinning. "I think that sounds excellent, Ray."

"But no cross-dressing."

"On my honor. Though you know, I dressed up as a woman once..."

"Fraser, that is oversharing."

"Ah. Shall we go inside?"

"We'd better, before the landlady calls the police. And Frase?"

"Yes, Ray?"

I lean over and give him a quick kiss. "Love you."

"And I you, Ray. And I you."

FIN

End Unarmed by MR: psykaos42@yahoo.com

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