Title: My Alien Abduction

Comments: This is a xover -- DS/XF. However, seeing as I haven't written any XF fic before, (because I can't, not because I don't want too {g}), the people involved are very out of character. It's intentional. Mostly. I'm sorry. Don't hate me.

Rating: PG (nothing but insinuation and a little mild cursing)

Warning: Slash. Don't like, don't read it.

Pairing: F/K (assumes a pre-existing relationship)

Disclaimer: Not mine, please don't sue, blah blah blah.

Feedback: Will be greatly appreciated, good or bad. You can email me at ellis_jo@hotmail.com.

Something was wrong with Ray.

Fraser couldn't put his finger on it, but his partner had been much more antagonistic than usual over the past week. He'd come perilously close to being slapped by Frannie, he'd almost gotten into a fist fight with Dewey, and he'd made Huey cry. Lieutenant Welsh had called him into his office four times to reprimand him.

It wasn't just his attitude at work, either. He hadn't wanted to go out for dinner or to movies or even for late night poker games at the Consulate.

Fraser was getting worried. And frustrated. They hadn't even kissed in over a week, and he was getting a little antsy himself. He'd actually snapped at Turnbull the other day. Well, snapped with a little more venom than usual. It had taken him almost half an hour to talk the sobbing Mountie out of the W.C.

Something had to be done.

"What?"

Startled, Fraser looked up to see Ray glaring at him. "Pardon?"

"I said what. As in, what's with the stupid stare?" Ray sat down at his desk and hauled a laptop out of the sports bag he'd been holding. "You've been moping a lot lately."

"Me?" Fraser watched as Ray laboriously untangled the massive knot of cords and began sticking them into seemingly random sockets.

"Yeah. Dief sick or somethin'? I can't think of any other reason you'd be sittin' around looking so forlorn." He grunted in exasperation, yanked all the plugs out, and tried again.

"Forlorn?"

"Yeah, you know. Forlorn. Sad and abandoned. In a pitiful state." Ray finally got the cords arranged to his satisfaction and hit a button on the back of the laptop. Nothing happened. "Damn."

Fraser helpfully held up a loose plug. "Might it help if this were plugged into the wall?"

Ray glared at him. "I was gettin' to that." He plugged it in and hit the button again. This time, there was a beep and the laptop whirred to life.

"I assure you, I'm not forlorn."

"Mmhmm," Ray muttered distractedly, cautiously poking a few keys.

"Might I ask what the computer is for?" Fraser leaned over and tried to see the screen.

Ray shifted it slightly so he couldn't. "I borrowed it from Stella. She was always more techie than me. I decided it was time to get on the in'nernet. Join the uh, cyber-revolution. Hitchhike the information speedway." He shrugged. "Everyone's doin' it, Fraser."

"Oh, I don't think--"

"Everyone's doin' it, Fraser. Okay?"

Fraser shook his head. "Okay."

"Besides, you can find information on anything on here."

"You have a need for information?" Fraser leaned over a little more and Ray shifted away again.

"'S it so hard to believe I wanna improve my mind? Huh?" Ray frowned and tapped a key. Nothing seemed to happen. He hit it three more times in rapid succession. "Damn."

"Certainly not. I'm well aware of your need for intellectual stimulation."

"Stimulation." Ray snorted, and Fraser rolled his eyes, secretly pleased that Ray was enough of his usual self to be amused.

"However," he continued, "the Internet might not be the best place to look--"

Fraser was cut off by a grunt, followed by a flurry of typing. There was a pause and Ray looked up from the keyboard, panting."Why not?"

"It's not the most reliable source. Have you been to the local public library lately, Ray?"

"Yeah, thanks Frase, I do read. But the stuff I'm looking for isn't exactly the kinda thing I can just waltz in and ask the sweet little old librarian for."

"Actually, Ray, I believe Mr. Chan is quite young, although he certainly is sweet." He paused. "Pornography?"

Ray looked sharply at him. "What?"

"Well, I just assumed. . ."

"No! No, Fraser, I am not lookin' up porn." His cheeks flushed just a little. "Not at work, anyway." He stared back at the screen, then groaned and let his head drop to rest on the keyboard.

The computer beeped twice, then buzzed loudly as the modem connected.

Ray looked up in surprise, his forehead imprinted with a line of squares. "Hey. . ." He glanced at Fraser. "See? I know what I'm doin'."

"Of course you do." Fraser leaned over a little more and almost fell out of his chair. "And that would be. . .?"

"Christ, yer nosy." Ray sighed. "Fine. I'll tell you. But only so you can help me with this. And if you laugh, I'll kill you."

"Understood."

"Okay." Ray took a deep breath. "You remember that nightmare I had the other week?"

Fraser thought back. He'd been at Ray's apartment, watching TV. Curling, to be precise. He'd just dozed off, (not that he'd ever admit that to anyone -- falling asleep in the middle of a bonspiel? The shame!) when he'd been awoken by Ray thrashing around in his arms.

Which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, except that Ray was fast asleep and screaming.

He'd gotten Ray calmed down and put him to bed, but he'd had to leave for work early in the morning and hadn't gotten a chance to ask his partner about it.

"Fraser?" Ray was staring strangely at him.

Fraser nodded quickly. "I remember."

"Well, I've been having more of 'em. And I can't take it anymore."

"But what--"

"What are they about?" Ray sighed. "It's so stupid."

"Anything that upsets you so much isn't stupid."

Ray sighed again. "Aliens."

"Aliens?"

"See? It's stupid." Ray dropped his head to stare at the keyboard. "You remember when you hypnotised us? Ya told me I'd been abducted by aliens as a kid. Well, it didn't bother me then. I figured if they thought I was interestin' enough to abduct. . . fine. Cool. I'm special, right?" He snorted. "But lately I've been having these really freaky dreams about aliens and spaceships and stuff." He looked up and met Fraser's concerned stare. "I think it's cause we went to see Star Wars. It reminded me."

Fraser couldn't help it -- he smiled.

Ray scowled at him. "I knew you'd laugh. That's why I'm goin' online. I'm gonna talk to people who've had similar experiences. People who won't laugh."

"I'm sorry, Ray. I know it isn't funny. And I'd be glad to help. I know you aren't the world's fastest typist. . ."

"Yeah, thanks, mock me then insult my typing ability."

"Well. . ."

"Just cause you're right doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." Ray took a deep breath then slid the laptop over in front of Fraser and shuffled his chair around to sit beside him. "So? Go ahead."

"Thank you." Fraser cracked his neck, laced his fingers in front of him and stretched, then dropped his hands to the keyboard. "Now, let's see. . . aliens, abductions, personal experiences. . ." His fingers raced over the keys so fast he noticed a wisp of smoke rising from the internal workings of the computer. He slowed his speed just slightly. "Here we are. A message board: 'My Alien Abduction'," he read aloud. "It seems to be a place where people can post about their abduction experiences -- just what you wanted."

Ray looked suspiciously at the screen. "How do I know this isn't some big joke? That there aren't a coupla twelve year-olds sittin' at a computer somewhere snickering as people spill their guts?"

"Well, even if it isn't a joke, people could still conceivably come to snicker, Ray. Which is why you're given the option to post under a pseudonym."

"Oh. Cool. Like uh. . ." His brow furrowed.

Fraser waited patiently.

"Big Red."

"No."

"Why not?" Ray looked pleadingly at him. "Nobody'll know who we really are."

"This is your search, not mine."

"You just don't want people to think you're a freak," Ray grumbled. "Little do you know they just have to look at ya to

see. . ."

Fraser smiled slightly and waited for Ray to finish.

"Okay. Fine," said Ray finally. "Terry."

"Terry?"

"It's the name of my turtle." Ray tapped his fingers impatiently. "Let's go! Post away!"

"I thought your turtle's name was Fraser."

The tapping sped up. "How the hell did you find. . ." He sighed heavily. "Besides, I named him before we uh. . . you know. And Terry was my first turtle. Just shut up." A glare. "And wipe that grin off your face."

Fraser smirked. "Absolutely. Now. . . this is a post from Terry of Chicago, looking to connect with other people to talk to online about alien abduction experiences?"

"Yeah. Sounds good. Post that sucker."

Fraser tapped a few keys and sat back. "There. Now all you have to do is wait."

"Wait. I hate waitin'."

"You know, it's almost time to go, and I think there's more curling on TV tonight." Fraser looked expectantly at Ray. "And Turnbull's booked the TV at the Consulate because wrestling is on. I don't know what he sees in it. . . it's clearly fake."

Ray smiled. "Don't be silly, Fraser. 'Course it's real." He growled and flexed. "Think I could be a wrestler?"

"Terry the Torturer and his Turtle of Death? I don't think so."

Ray grinned. "And in the other corner, Big Red and his Wolf o' Doom. It'd be great."

Fraser shook his head. "Curling?" he suggested again.

Ray grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. "So let's go to my place. Don't wanna miss a second of that hot curling action."

Fifteen minutes after the end of the hot curling action, Fraser was lying contentedly beside Ray -- well, partly beneath him, and partly on top, but mostly beside -- just about to drift off to sleep.

Ray purred slightly and snuggled closer.

There was a deafeningly loud knock at the door that seemed to bypass Fraser's ears and go straight to the pit of his stomach. He sat bolt upright, rolling Ray off onto the floor.

". . .rrg . . . wha. . ." Ray muttered sleepily, hauling himself slowly up to his knees by grasping the blanket hand over hand.

"There's someone at the door." Fraser looked at the glowing digital clock-face beside Ray's bed. "It's past one."

"That was some bonspiel, huh?" Ray murmured with a contented grin, still half-asleep.

Fraser swung his feet over the side of the bed and pulled on the pants he'd laid out in the few seconds before Ray had tackled him onto the bed earlier that night. "I'll get it."

"'S my house. . ." Ray finally managed to get to his feet and wandered toward the door.

"Ray."

The bare feet padded on.

"Ray."

He reached out and grabbed the bedroom doorknob.

"Ray!"

Ray paused and gave him a blurry smile. "Wha--?"

"Ray, you're naked. And while I don't mind. . ." Despite his heart still complaining at the rude awakening, and the incessant pounding on the door, he let his eyes slide slowly down to Ray's feet and back up, lingering along the way. "At all," he continued, "whoever's at the door might."

"Oh. Yeah." He walked back to the bed and let himself fall onto the blankets. "You get it."

"My pleasure."

Fraser went out into the main room and walked up to the door. "Hello?" he called.

The knocking stopped. "Hello?"

"Who is this?"

"Who's this?"

"Constable Benton Fraser. I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father and have remained--"

"What?"

"Constable Benton Fraser," Fraser emphasized. "I--"

"Yeah yeah, we got that.""We?"

There was a brief silence. "Yeah. You going to let us in or make us stand in the hall all night?"

"Would you mind identifying yourselves?" Fraser waited.

After a long pause, the voice said quietly, "The Lo...n..m.."

Even Fraser's batlike ears couldn't pick up the words.

"Pardon me?"

"The ...n..g..n.."

"Pardon?"

He was suddenly pulled back from the door as Ray, fully-dressed, shoved in front of him, flung the door open, and casually slapped his hand on the handle of his gun in its holster. "Hi. You guys wanna ID yourselves?"

The short, balding man stared at him, looked at the gun, then looked back at him. "Great. One of these guys."

The tall blond behind him grinned. "Told you he'd be a cop."

"I didn't argue with you, Langly."

They were interrupted by a quiet voice. "I'm Byers." The third member of the group stepped forward and stuck out his hand, frowning at his compatriots as he did so. "I'm sorry we're disturbing you so late."

Fraser reacted automatically. "Not at all, we weren't asleep anyway."

"Speak for yourself!" Ray kept his hand on his gun. "So? Who are ya? And whaddya want?"

The first man glared at Byers. "I'm Frohike. This clown is Langly, and the one who's trying to be polite is Byers. We're the Lone Gunmen."

Ray stared at them. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

Frohike stared coldly back. "Are you going to let us in?"

"Come on, I've gotta pee." Langly grinned at them. Byers shook his head.

"They appear harmless, Ray."

"Those are the worst kind, Fraser." Ray sighed. "Fine." He stepped back. "Come in, then."

Frohike nodded. "Thanks."

The three men came in and promptly sat down in a row on the couch. Byers looked around, studying the apartment. Frohike kept his eyes fixed on Ray. Langly tapped on the glass of the turtle's aquarium.

"Hey." Ray lunged at him and swatted his hand away. "Don't do that. Besides, I thought you said you had t' pee."

Fraser smiled apologetically. "He's touchy about the turtle."

Langly rubbed his hand. "I can see that." He smiled at Ray. "I lied."

Ray made the slightest shift toward moving into a fighting stance, and Langly looked mildly disconcerted.

"Can we get to the point, gentlemen?" Frohike leaned forward.

"And what exactly is the point?" Ray paced back and forth across the room. Fraser tried to keep out of his way.

"You posted on a messageboard this afternoon, did you not?" Frohike leaned forward even farther. "Terry?"

Ray spun around and stared accusingly at Fraser. "You said it was anonymous!"

"I don't think that I did, Ray--"

"I used a pseudonym! So no one'd know who I am!" He whirled the other way and smacked his palms on the coffee table directly in front of the little man. "How'd you know?" he shouted.

Frohike leaned back slightly. "We have our ways."

Beside him, Langly smirked to himself.

Byers shifted nervously. "We wouldn't have disturbed your privacy if it hadn't been absolutely necessary."

"We had to get here first," Langly added with a shrug. "You gotta do what you gotta do. And you should be glad we did."

"Why?" Fraser stepped to Ray's side and rested a hand on his shoulder, hoping to calm him down. "Who did you have to get here before?"

Ray glanced at him. "You must be as upset as I am, Frase. . . your grammar sucks."

"You said you had to get here first. Who else is coming??" Fraser's voice was rising.

All three of the Lone Gunmen looked worried now.

"It doesn't matter. We're here. And speaking of which, we should be going. All of us." Frohike started to get up.

Ray stared at the four nervous men. "Why? What's goin' on here?"

From behind him, there was a quiet click as the bedroom door opened.

The three Lone Gunmen stared past the partners with wide eyes.

"Shit," Langly muttered under his breath.

"You can say that again," Frohike hissed, trying to wedge himself between Langly and the couch back.

Byers just stared with huge eyes and whimpered slightly.

Very slowly, Fraser and Ray turned around.

A dark shape in the doorway flashed a gleam of white teeth. "Good morning, boys. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting any of you in person before." He stepped out of the shadows. "I'm Alex Krycek. And you must be 'Terry'." He smiled slowly. "You're a lot prettier than I expected. A lot of these alien abductees have that inbred redneck look, you know?" His eyes darted over to Fraser. "And who's this?"

For once, Fraser was too shocked to speak. The man was mesmerizing, advancing slowly upon them with a slow, deliberate, cat-like swagger.

Beside him, he could faintly hear Ray trying to whisper, "C.. Constable. . . B-b-benton. . ."

He managed to make himself move enough to reach a hand out to squeeze Ray's arm. Ray closed his mouth.

Krycek took in the movement with a growing smile. "Oh I see. How interesting. But you've got nothing on Scully, b-b-Benton, and I did just fine with Mulder, didn't I?"

Langly looked sick. Frohike looked offended. "Scully's gor--"

"I wasn't talking to you!" In one movement, Krycek had darted across the room and had a gun pressed to the man's temple. "But you didn't say anything, did you?"

Frohike's eyes bulged.

Krycek smiled and tucked the gun into his leather jacket. "Good." He turned his attention back to Fraser and Ray. "I guess you're probably wondering what we're doing here. Since they," he said scornfully, "didn't seem to be doing a very good job of explaining the situation."

Fraser glanced at Ray, who looked frozen. "Yes," he said quickly.

"Have a seat." Krycek waved at the floor. "Sit."

Fraser obeyed. Ray stayed standing, staring at the dark figure in the middle of his living room.

Krycek laughed. "How flattering. This isn't going to be a challenge at all." He walked up to Ray and put a hand to the detective's face, running his finger down the stubbly jaw line. "No challenge at all. . . it's sort of disappointing, actually." He dropped his hand to Ray's side and pulled out his gun, tossing it into a corner. Ray followed it with his eyes, the rest of his body unmoving.

For the first time since he'd arrived in Chicago, Fraser wished he had a gun. Or a knife. Or a stick. Or two teabags and a piece of waxed paper.

On the couch, the three Lone Gunmen winced in unison as Krycek trailed his fingers slowly up Ray's chest, paused to squeeze his shoulder gently, then slid his hand up to rest curved around his throat.

"This is ridiculous," Fraser said aloud.Krycek turned to look at him. "What?"

"The four of us," he gestured at the cringing Gunmen, "might as well leave if you're just going to piddle around with my partner. I thought you were going to tell us why you're here."

Krycek sneered. "I am." He looked back at Ray and sighed. "I guess you'll wait. Right?"

Ray flashed a helpless look at Fraser. Fraser forced himself to wink at him.

"R. . .right." When Krycek had turned away from him, he flashed another look at Fraser. This one was a lot dirtier. One might almost call it evil.

Fraser suppressed a grin. Ray would be all right.

"So. You," Krycek gestured with an elbow at Ray, "posted about being abducted by aliens. Well, let me tell you, there are a lot of folks interested in people like you. A lot. Hell, if Mulder weren't uh, tied up at the moment," he winked at Langly, who dropped his head into his hands, "I'm sure he'd be here too. Now that, you should be grateful for. He's a hell of a guy, god is he ever. . ."

He stared off into space for a minute, then blinked and quickly wiped away the trace of drool that was forming in the corner of his mouth. "He's a little preachy though. Always going on about the truth and garbage like that. A real pain in the ass, sometimes." He smirked. "So to speak."

Langly raised his head painfully. "Get to the point, Krycek. Please."

Krycek gave him a dirty look. "Fine. The point is, I work for people who would love to hear about your little abduction experience. As for these three. . . I imagine they're running errands for Mulder. I'll bet they were going to try to take you to him. If they could find him." He grinned. "I can't wait to get home. . ."

Fraser looked at Frohike for confirmation. "It's true," the man said, "Mulder called us and asked if we'd check out a posting on the messageboard he set up. We did all the computer work, expecting he'd follow up on it himself, the way he usually does, but then he called back at the last minute and said he was expecting a friend. . ." His voice trailed off.

"Ugh," said Langly loudly.

"See?" Krycek grinned at him. "It's absolutely mutual. Sure, it took a while before we could do anything really fun without beating the crap out of each other first, but hey, what's a little S&M between enemies?"

"Ugh," Langly repeated.

"So yeah. Here I am. And here they are, doing Mulder's dirty work. Unfortunately for Mulder, I'm in control here, so I'll be taking you back to Washington with me. To uh, pump you for information." He leered at Ray.

Fraser's fists clenched, but he forced himself to relax. "Could I come too? I've never been to Washington."

"What? Why?" Krycek paused. "Oh, you think you can protect your little boyfriend? Aw. . . how cute."

"Two for the price of one," Ray piped up suddenly.

Fraser blinked. Ray winked at him and grinned nastily.

"Oh dear. . ." he said quietly. Louder, he added, "Absolutely. And. . . and. . ."

Krycek frowned. "And what?"

Fraser tried desperately to think of every seductive move Ray had ever made that had made him want to fling him across a bed or a desk or a store counter or a saddle or-- it was no use. Every move that Ray made, period, made him want to do passionate hot sweaty things to him. He thought faster. Finally, he said lamely, "And I'm Canadian." From his position on the floor, he wiggled his shoulders back and forth, attempting to look seductive.

Ray was staring at him, an expression of horror on his face. Fraser risked a glance at the Gunmen. They too, were staring in shock. Had he gone too far? Was he. . . too sexy?

Krycek burst out laughing.

Evidently not. Drat.

As Krycek rocked back and forth, slapping his thighs and giggling like a schoolgirl, Fraser noticed a slight movement out of the corner of his eye.

"I didn't think it was that bad," he said loudly, doing his best to keep Krycek's attention.

Step by tiny step, Byers inched closer to the hysterical man. When he was right behind him, he nodded sharply at Fraser.

Fraser leapt to his feet and flung his arms wide, gyrating his hips madly. "Tell me this isn't sexy!" he cried.

Tears were pouring down Krycek's face. He paused for an instant to get a better look, then burst out laughing, harder than ever. As Fraser swiveled faster, he collapsed into a tiny shaking ball on the floor.

Instantly, Byers leapt.

There was a brief tussle, then silence. Krycek was pinned solidly to the floor beneath Byer's slender frame. "Got him," Byers said with satisfaction.

Langly and Frohike stared at him, awe-struck.

Fraser slowed his rotation. "Good work," he began, then was interrupted as Ray pounced on him from across the room, shoving him back against the desk in the corner.

"You're right," he breathed, practically wrapping his legs around Fraser's waist, "it is sexy."

"Kids? I hate to interrupt, but. . ." Frohike gestured at the struggling Krycek. "We really should get moving while we've got the chance."

"Forget it," Ray murmured, sliding down onto the floor and pulling Fraser with him. "I'm not goin' anywhere. You want to talk to me, talk. But hurry."

Frohike glanced at Byers, who was starting to perspire. "You going to be okay?"

"Fine," Byers grunted tersely. "Go ahead."

"This way?" Frohike gestured at the bedroom. At the sight of Ray's raised eyebrows, he shrugged. "It's about the only privacy we're going to get, and I don't really want to let the rat know all our secrets."

From the floor, Krycek snarled. "I don't care, okay? Go off and talk. I don't care."

"I'll stay here too," Fraser said. "They aren't my secrets."

Frohike nodded approvingly. "He's a keeper," he said to Ray with a grin. "Not nosy. That's what you've got to look for in a partner."

As the two men went into the bedroom, Fraser could just make out the beginning of Ray's sarcastic retort as the door closed behind them.

Langly got up and wandered over. He stared at Krycek for a while, then bent down and poked him in the stomach.

"Agh!" Krycek writhed. "I am so ticklish. . ."

Langly grinned.

It was almost an hour later when the bedroom door opened and Frohike and Ray finally emerged.

Fraser and Langly were sprawled on the couch, watching an infomercial for leg wax, Langly having tired of tormenting Krycek ten minutes earlier. Byers was still crouching over the fallen villain, his muscles quivering and sweat dripping down his beard. He looked up. "Done?" His voice trembled.

Frohike nodded and yawned. "It took us a while, but I think we've got it all sorted out. Right?"

Ray grinned tiredly. "Right. And thanks."

"No problem." Frohike paused in the hall. "Langly? Byers? Let's go, we've got to be back in Washington before Buffy comes on this evening."

From the floor, Krycek snorted. "Buffy? You're kidding me. It's all about this chick who kills vampires, right? How lame is that? Although I have to admit vampires themselves are cool. Male vampires, mind you."

Byers smiled as he hauled Krycek to his feet by the collar of his leather jacket. "Can I recommend a show to you?"

Frohike held the door open as Byers and Langly escorted their prisoner out into the hall. "Don't worry," he said, "We'll turn him over to Mulder as soon as we get back. I'm sure he'll be happy to see him." He rolled his eyes. "And it was nice meeting the both of you. If you're ever online again. . ." he paused, "Well, we'll know. And we'll be sure to say hi." He grinned. "See you around."

The door shut behind them and Ray collapsed against it with a loud sigh.

Fraser looked at him with concern. "Are you sure you're all right? You two were a long time in there."

"That didn't really happen, did it?" Ray let himself slide to the floor. "Three little geeks didn't just bust in in the middle of the night and then subdue an incredibly sexy man in the middle of my living room?"

"You think he's sexy?"

With tremendous effort, Ray raised his eyes to meet Fraser's. "Are you kiddin' me? Hell. . ." He paused. Looked at the big Mountie eyes. The big Mountie lips, quivering slightly. The big Mountie shoulders. The big Mountie chest. The big Mountie. . . "Hell no." He heaved himself up and collapsed forward into Fraser's waiting arms.

"Bed?"

"Mm," Ray grunted affirmatively.

Fraser started hauling him toward the bedroom. "What exactly did he say to you? Do you think you're going to have any more nightmares?" He dumped him gently on the bed.

Ray looked sheepish. "Nope."

"How do you know?" Fraser peeled himself rapidly out of his clothes and then got to work on Ray's.

"Cause he uh. . ."

"What?" Fraser paused in the middle of trying to disentangle Ray from his shoulder holster.

Ray grinned at him. "He found my dreamcatcher. It had fallen down behind the bed, and I guess I didn't notice. All that uh. . . you know. . . bed frame hittin' the wall and all that, musta knocked it down." He got impatient with Fraser's fumbling and slithered out of the holster himself. "So no more nightmares, now that it's back up."

Fraser smiled. "But. . ."

"What?" Ray inched up the bed slightly to bring the button of his jeans closer to Fraser's fingers.

"I mean. . . you don't think it might be better to deal with the problem than to avoid it?" It was hard to concentrate on the words.

"Oh, no sweat. I dealt with it." Ray wriggled out of his jeans. "We talked it out. See, apparently, it's not aliens at all."

"No?"

"It's all a big conspiracy. There's this secret society kinda thing, they're the ones controllin' everything. So they. . . mm. . . set it up so it looked like I and a whole bunch of other people got abducted, but really, they were just screwin' with us. Messin' with our heads to see how we'd react, I think." He shrugged. "Tell you the truth, I kind of got lost at that point. Anyway, then they lost track of some of us. Like me. Knew there was a good reason for takin' this assignment and goin' undercover." Ray grinned then squeaked with pleasant surprise.

"Not to mention meeting me. . . "

"Oh well, I think that escaping from the clutches of an evil syndicate was worth puttin' up with you for."

This time it was a yelp.

"I love you too, Ray," Fraser whispered. He wiggled his shoulders slightly.

Ray moaned.

Fraser grinned in the dark.

Kudos to anyone who caught the reference to a certain poorly-distributed Canadian film starring the always-lovable Dave Foley {g}.