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Due South meets the Truman Show. Sort of. WARNING: plot bunny alert.
"Ray! Ray, wake up! You're having a nightmare. Wake up! It's okay. It's only a dream."
"Oh God, Benny!" He patted Ben's face, assuring himself that he was awake.
"What were you dreaming about?"
"It was awful, Benny. We weren't us. Well, we were, but not really."
"What do you mean?"
Ray was still working to catch his breath. "We were actors-and this was a tv show-and we-we-and- the show was canceled-and then it was back-but I was gone-and then I came back-and we weren't partners anymore-and then I went to Florida-and you went back to Canada-and then we had a party-and it was all over! And none of it was real because it was a script!"
Unsure of what to say, Ben held Ray tightly as he began to calm down. "Ray, I promise you. Nothing like that will ever happen. I'm real, you're real, and this," he pointed to their bedroom, "is real."
"I know, but - the dream- it all seemed so real too."
Distraction seemed the only answer to that. "How does this feel?" He kissed Ray, slowly and reverently.
"Wonderful." Ray deepened the kiss, becoming flushed with arousal rather than terror.
Neither of them noticed the crowd of people in the corner, some of them scribbling furiously, some of them taking pictures.