rated: NC-17 m/m
Disclaimer: All due south characters belong to alliance. No
copyright infringement intended.
This story is for all of us who will probably never see CKR in
his new movie "Last Night".
***************************************************************
I suppose I should write the rest of this down,
'cause Fraser's in no condition to do it himself. He's laying
right next to me, naked as the day he was born, with a big happy
grin on his face and a glazed look in his eyes.
Four more hours until the big rock hits. It's bigger than the
state of Texas, so they say, and I guess they would know. The US
and everybody else launched every nuclear missile they had at the thing
and they barely chipped it. So much for the Hollywood
version of doomesday.
The weirdest thing is, we didn't know it was coming until a week
ago. You'd think they would have noticed something that big
heading for us, but, hey, I guess they had other things on there
minds. Not that it would have mattered anyway; it's just too damn big.
Naturally, as soon as word got out, the entire city freaked. We
were overwhelmed at the precinct with looting, arson, murder, you name
it. Everybody in Chicago went nuts at the same time.
*******
"Kowalski, you seen Huey or Dewey?" Lt Welsh bellowed
at me from his office. The man looked like he hadn't slept for
days, and to be honest would probably never sleep again.
I looked up from the phones which amazingly, were still working.
I was more tired than I'd ever been. "They left a couple of
hours ago to make sure Frannie got home safe."
Welsh rubbed his stubbly chin, "Yeah, well, I hope they're
okay. It's a madhouse out there."
He glanced at the clock on the wall. 5 pm; nine more hours left.
He looked around at the desered squadroom, and sighed. "Go
home Kowalski."
"But sir. . " I began
"There's nothing more we can do, go home."
I stood up and approached him cautiously. "What about you
sir?"
Welsh chuckled and said, "I got a 12 year old bottle of
scotch that I've been saving for a special occasion. I guess this is
it." He slapped me on the back. "Get outta here
Kowalski, that's an order."
I smiled and turned to leave. I stopped and said, "Goodbye,
Harding."
"That's Lt. Welsh to you, smartass."
I watched him as he went back to his office, opened up his bottom
drawer and pulled out the scotch, and a shot glass. With a smile, he
shoved all his paperwork off the desk and put his feet
up.
"Here's looking at you," he said to know one in
particular, and downed the scotch.
*******
I was terrified. I couldn't get anyone to answer the phone at the consulate.
The sun would be going down soon, down forever. Fraser was supposed to
meet me at the station over an hour ago, so we
could find someplace to spend the rest of our time together. I
couldn't help thinking of the million and one things that could
happen to a pathological do gooder in a city about to die. The
streets were empty. Most of the people had either headed for the
hills, or were hiding in their basements for all the good it
would do them.
Fire and brimstone coming from the sky. We'd been judged in the
balance and found wanting. God was pissed. I sat there wondering
what had pushed him over the edge. Could it have been Jerry
Springer?
The consulate appeared at last. I slammed on the brakes (brake
pads don't matter anymore) and raced inside.
Turnbull was sitting at his desk quite composed, informing an
hysterical man that he didn't really think it would be possible
for him to get a flight back to Toronto tonight. My opinion of
Turnbull rose a few notches. Either he was too stupid to know
what was going on, or there was more to him than met the eye.
"Where's Fraser?" I demanded. (no time for small talk).
"Constable Fraser and Inspector Thatcher are upstairs
delivering a baby. The young lady went into labour on our
doorstep and since 911 no longer seems to be working; we decided
that she was our responsibility, even though she wasn't
Canadian."
I rushed up the stairs thinking only about Fraser.
******
I flung open the door and was greeted by the sight of the Ice
Queen holding the pregnant lady's hand and Fraser kneeling
between her legs.
"Push!," Thatcher ordered, impatiently. "You must
concentrate on the matter at hand."
"I knew you would find your way here, Ray," Fraser said to
me, his eyes full of love.
The young woman moaned in pain. Fraser turned back to her, and
said gently, "One more push should do it, Miss."
"What does it matter?" she gasped. "We'll be dead
in a few hours."
"Perhaps, but this baby doesn't know that. All it wants is
to come into this world. We owe it that much; a taste of life at
least."
The woman nodded, and with a terrible cry, pushed with all her
might. A tiny head appeared.
"Keep pushing! I've got it's head!" Fraser encouraged.
Seconds later, a beautiful baby girl lay in the mountie's hands.
He laid the infant on her mother's stomach and prepared to cut
the umbilical cord.
The woman was laughing and crying at the same time. "She's
so beautiful, so beautful," she repeated.
**********
I waited for Fraser to get cleaned up. He appeared in front of
me, neatly dressed in jeans and flannel. My mountie, not even the end
of the world was an excuse for sloppiness. We held each
other. My heart raced a mile a minute. His was calm and steady as ever.
"What do we do now, Fraser?" I asked.
He smiled that sad little smile of his, and answered, "I've
prepared a place for us on the roof. We can watch the sun go down and
wait."
"So, you want to get closer to the death from above, is that right?"
"I want to see it, Ray," he said simply.
I nodded like I understood. I didn't, but it didn't matter. We
were going to be together when it hit, that was the important
thing.
We climbed up on the roof. Fraser had spread out a blanket for
us, and fixed a picnic basket. A picnic basket for the end of the world;
that must be that Canadian humour that nobody understands.
We watched the sun set for the last time. As darkness slowly fell on
the city, I laid my head on his shoulder. The electricity was
off, so I guessed I'd seen the last bit of light ever. Except for the
stars; they were twinkling happily enough. Why should they
care?
"Hey Frase, how come we can't see it? It should be filling
the whole sky," I asked.
"I don't know Ray. Perhaps it's on the other side of the
earth. I'm sure we'll see it soon enough."
"Maybe it's all a hoax. Somebody's idea of the ultimate
practical joke," I suggested half-seriously.
He just smiled. "Do you want to make love?" he asked,
solemnly.
"One last bang before the big one, you mean?" I asked
grinning. Why does he ask me stupid questions like that?
He kissed me desperately; his hands ripping at my clothes. What
the hell, I'm not going to need them anymore. I leaned back on
the blanket as my mild-mannered mountie ripped cloth and licked
flesh. I found myself naked in no time; Fraser is a monument to
efficiency. "Ray," he whispered, as he tongued his way
across my chest.
I slipped my arms around him and pulled him tighter. There's no
one else on earth, but me and him. He found a nipple and that
seemed to capture his attention for awhile. I bucked under him. I wanted
his mouth on another part of my body.
He got the message. "Ray," he said again, as he kissed
his way due south.
"Oh man," I moaned, "Oh man, oh man!" This
was the best part. The best part of my whole life. Whenever
Fraser wrapped his lips around my dick, all my fears and doubts
and screw-ups vanished, and there was only him loving me.
He likes to lick me good before he does it. I don't know why,
maybe he wants to hear me scream for mercy. Come to think of it,
that must be it, 'cause he spends so much time making me scream.
I had my hands in his hair, and was about ready to start pulling
some of it out before he finally took me in his mouth. Licking,
and sucking, and scraping his teeth along my cock, he drove me
wild. I rocked furiously, laughing like a fool.
"C'mon, you son of a bitch, smash us to hell," I
screamed as Fraser began to stroke my balls for good measure.
Then I couldn't talk; then I was coming in his mouth, down his
chin. I made a mess all over my nice, clean mounie.
"I'm dead," I muttered. "This is heaven,
right?"
"Yes, Ray," he assured me. His clothes came off almost
as fast as mine did. I took a deep breath to steady myself. He
had a wild, hungry look in his eyes. Fortunately, I have a fast
recovery time, especially when I'm motivated. And let me tell
you, the sight of Fraser's naked body was all the motivation I
needed.
His breath was ragged as he reached into the picnic basket for
the lube. Coffee, sandwiches, and lube: everything you need to
face the end of the world.
I watched his face as he spread my legs and stuck his fingers
into my asshole. He's so damn perfect, and he loves me. If the
world wasn't about to be destroyed, I might think that the
universe actually made sense. The tip of his tongue rested on the side
of his mouth as he stretched me. Man, I love his tongue. He
looked at me and asked, "Are you ready?"
His face was pink and he was covered with sweat. My poor mountie; had
to give him what he wanted. "I'm always ready for
you."
No more ceremony or polite manners; he was inside of me, up to
the hilt. I groaned because it felt so damn good, even though it
hurt . He moved slow and gentle, but that wasn't the way it
should be, the last fuck in the history of the planet.
"C'mon Fraser, fuck me hard! Fuck me like there's no
tomorrow!"
Mountie or not, he started to work me good. With each wonderful,
bruising thrust, I couldn't help think that I was going to be
sore tomorrow. Ha, what a joke!
I pumped my own dick, so he could focus on what he needed. Boy,
did he. He grunted and growled and rocked me, till I saw stars.
And that tongue hanging out of his mouth. Oh, I love that tongue. Did
I say that already?
Anyway, even though my mountie has the strength of ten men
because his heart is pure, he still had to come eventually. He
came screaming my name and sobbing, with me coming right behind
him. He collapsed on me and buried his face in my chest. We held
each other in one big sticky mess.
******
Well, that brings us up to the present. Fraser is laying beside
me to sexed out to care that the world is ending. Dief is beside
him probably wishing there was a girl wolf around ( or maybe a
boy wolf, I've never been too sure about him).
I'm laying here, scribbling in Fraser's journal, and I don't know why.
We're all gonna be crushed into powder in a few hours, so
there won't be anyone to read it. Of course, it'll be crushed
too.
I still don't see the big rock, and I'm starting to get annoyed.
It's going to destroy our planet; the least it could do is have
the common courtesy to show it's face, so we can cower in terror
before it.
Turnbull has popped up beside us grinning in a slightly psycho
way. "Guess what?" he says.
I'm thinking he wants to try some kind of 3-way, but he babbles,
"It's going to miss us! It'll be close, but it will miss. I
just heard it on the radio!"
We look at him like he's insane. Maybe he is. The pressure, you
know. Then we hear it. People in the street, laughing, crying,
praying, and we know it's true.
"We're going to live Ray," Fraser whispers, still not
quite believing. "Looks like it," I say.
He reaches for me, time to celebrate, time to live, time to love.
the end
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