Smarties

by Jaime Arundel

***

Fraser does some thinking. not really explicit; slash warning.
takes place after "Odds," but in a different universe from
"CotW." the characters belong to Alliance; Smarties
belong to Rowntree, i think, although they've probably been
bought out by some bigger corporation. heavens only
knows who the red dye belongs to ... some pharmaceutical
company probably.

inspired by recent discussion in thecloset. thanks, y'all.

comments welcome. send 'em to j_arundel@hotmail.com.

***

It's late. Or perhaps it's early. The case has been wrapped
up, and now I'm back in the Consulate. Alone again.
Everyone else is at home ... or in gaol. I'm still wearing
Jack Huey's tuxedo. As I unwind the cummerbund, I can
feel how tired I am, how my arms ache from the weight of
her.

Stripping down to my boxers, I hang the tuxedo in my
closet, thankfully just a closet tonight, and close the door.
The Consulate's completely empty at this time of night, and
too warm, as usual. I press both hands into the base of my
spine and stretch.

The bag of Smarties sits by itself in the centre of my desk, a
silent reminder of the evening.

I tip half the bag out on the top of my desk, sweeping aside
a stack of file folders to do so. Dief whines at me, eyes
growing bigger as he sees the size of the heap. I sit in the
desk chair, idly sorting them into individual piles, one for
each colour. I can still feel her behind me, her strong
fingers plying the muscle groups of my back; she'd been
knowledgeable about that, as she had about cards.

Funny how some people come to think that because they
can read one game, they can read them all.

The bag was very full and my heaps are getting quite large
now. Dief has managed to lay his muzzle on the desk,
drooling all over my desk blotter. I flick a finger at him and
he jerks his head back all of a centimetre. Very little
distracts Dief from anything edible, especially anything
sweet.

Edible and sweet. They're terms some men would apply to
her, but only if they were too stupid to realize that anything
that sweet has to be dangerous. Dangerous and habit-
forming, for those who're susceptible.

I start to flatten my piles into long, curving rows. The
Smarties shine dully in the light of my desk lamp. I have
plenty of each colour and there are some I don't need at all.
Dief sighs as I push a half dozen of the brown ones towards
him. A snap, crunch, swallow and they're gone already. I
don't give him more because chocolate contains
theobromine, an alkaloid which can sometimes cause
anaphylactic reactions in dogs. Given how much chocolate
Dief's eaten in his three and a half years in Chicago, I can't
imagine him developing a problem now. Still better to be
safe than sorry.

I snicker. There are hands on my back again, long, knowing
fingers tracing the length of the muscles, finding and
releasing knots I hadn't even realized were there. She'd
been so good at that, so determined.

Funny how concerned Kowalski was; he really seemed to
think that I was falling for her. He should have known
she's not my type. If anything, I'd have thought she was
more his. I was a little surprised that he seemed more
interested in me than in her. I hope nothing's going on
there. Ray K's ripe to fall, I think, as lonely as I've been these
last months, and I'd rather not be the one to cause him pain.
More pain.

God knows I've caused him enough, one way or another.
And I like him, I really do. He's an interesting person and
he is, despite himself, a good police officer. Still, I'd have
thought Lady Shoes was more his type.

The hands move up to my shoulders, kneading into the
tense muscles there. I can still feel her weight hanging, first
from one arm, then from the other. I didn't drop her, of
course, and if I've a few strained muscles from holding her
like that, well, some would say I deserved it. It wasn't a
very nice thing to do to her, after all.

She didn't want me, you know. Even though she kissed me.
Even though she rubbed my back and tried to bed me.

That close to me, and wearing only my old red long-johns,
I'd have known if she'd been aroused. And she wasn't.
The backrub, the sex on offer, they were only early moves
in the game she was playing. A way to keep upping the
ante, until she had me firmly hooked.

She wanted to use me, and she was gambling on the price
she would have to pay to do it. I made it easy for her ... and
then found that I wanted to make her pay for it, after all. A
little adrenaline, that was all it was, really. There was never
any possibility that I would actually drop her. Am I really
learning to bluff? Maybe.

The fingers move up to that place where the base of my
skull meets the back of my neck. Strong, knowing,
familiar. I groan.

The Smarties are all in order now, six parallel sweeps of
colour, a chocolate rainbow.

A hand reaches over my shoulder, snags a red Smartie
between long elegant fingers. That voice in my ear now
"I always eat the red one's *first* but I suck them *very*
slowly."

I turn, feeling my breath catch at the sight of that red-coated
candy being sucked very slowly indeed between mobile
lips, stained near crimson from the dye.

"Ray," I say, and turn into his arms.

He lifts me, strong as ever despite his leanness, lays me
down on my desk. There'll be a rainbow coloured tattoo
across my back when I finally get up, but I don't care as I
long as I can feel the touch of his hands on me. His lips
press a kiss over my left nipple and he giggles briefly as he
surveys the red-dyed imprint of his lips on my chest.

He shouldn't be here. It's too dangerous a game he's
playing. But he can't keep away, and I can't make him,
though I never know when he'll come, or from where.

I spread my legs and welcome him home. My torso slides
on the slick surface of the desk as he enters me, and
Smarties cascade onto the floor.

Dief munches contentedly.

"Ray," I say again, gasping at the feel of him, strong and
silent and here. He bends his mouth to mine, and I taste
candy and chocolate and him.

I love Smarties.


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