due South: Buck and Change 4   Warnings: Rated R for adult
situations. M/M games. Frobisher. Rather unhot. A test and a disclaimer. 
Promises: Longer episode. No food actually touched. No picketers in front
of the Buck & Change  studio.	A BUCK AND CHANGE - Ep. 4   or You Must
Return This, Ma! By Mitch Hudson 

"Just what do you think you're doing showing up here?" Ray demanded as
Fraser slid into the Riv. "Are you following me? I told you I didn't need
your help on this stakeout. Now why don't you take your wolf, who by the
way is peeing on that bank's plastic bush, and go find some poor felon to
save?" 

"Ray, Diefenbaker is not urinating. He's marking territory to alert other
animals to his presence. You see he secretes--" 

"Benny . . ." Ray lowered his binoculars again and glared at the Mountie.
His innocent blue eyes gazed guilelessly back, the evening light lending a
glint of mystery to their intense color. Ray took in the sight and smell
of the leather jacket. Then he eyed the pale golden T-Shirt and
comfortably tight jeans. Oh, it was pointless. He shook his head and
resumed his watch of the tiny, glass-fronted restaurant. 

"Ray?" With the light touch of a guiding finger Fraser turned Ray's head
back and looked into his brooding eyes. "Please don't shut me out." 

"Aww, Benny. Why do you do things like this to me? Why is it you can take
one look at me and know when I'm lying?" Ray softened his accusatory tone
by catching Benny's hand and pressing it to his chest. 

"Because you love me." 

"Because *I* love *you*? Not because *you* love me, not because your
feelings give you some special insight. Oh, no. That's only how it works
for ordinary people, right? Not for Mr. One-With-Nature." Ray kept his
right hand on Benny's warm, pliant hand and resumed his gaze through the
binoculars. "Not for Benton Fr--  Argh! No!" Ray shouted and threw the
binoculars on the seat. He jerked open the Riv's door and broke his touch
with Benny as he lunged out and ran down the street and into the
restaurant. 

Fraser was only two steps behind him as Ray came to a sliding stop beside
a corner table in the dimly lit elegant restaurant. He didn't see the
servers or other patrons sniff in disdain at the pair's ungentlemanly
entrance. Sergeant Frobisher and Mrs. Vecchio stared up at them in
surprise. Buck was placing a small box in Mrs. Vecchio's cupped hand. 

"Raimondo, Benton," she exclaimed in delight. "What a nice surprise.
Rather unexpected, but I'm sure Sergeant Frobisher wouldn't mind if you
joined us. Would you--" 

"Ma, *what* is *that* in your *hand*?" Ray asked, his voice harsh with his
effort to keep it at less than a bellow. 

"Gentlemen." Buck smiled. "I'm sure we can get a couple of extra chairs--"


"It looks like a *jeweler's* box. Doesn't it, Benny?" Ray asked, angling
his glare at Frobisher. 

Fraser, opened his mouth but no sound came out. He placed a hand on Ray's
shoulder, not sure if he intended to restrain him or comfort him. He shot
Buck a look of sympathy and shrugged his shoulders. 

"A *tiny* jeweler's box." Ray unclenched his fists and held them up, palms
facing together and almost touching. A hunter's grim smile spread his
lips. "Just the right size," he paused and flicked his gaze around to all
three people, "to hold," and he stopped again and leaned very close to
Buck's face, almost nose to nose, "a ring." 

"Oh?" Mrs. Vecchio asked in the same matter-of-fact tone she always used
when faced with her son's strong emotions. "Well Caro, let's see what's
inside." She slipped the bit of paper off and pulled up the hinged lid of
the velvet covered box. 

"Ma, you can't keep it. You *must* return it--" Ray's words were drowned
out as his mother found her voice. 

"Oh, Buck! It's beautiful! Wherever did you find it?" 

Ray saw a look of delight in her hazel eyes as she held the jewel box out
for his and Fraser's inspection. Nestled on the velvet covered display was
a tiny pin, a sparkling guardian angel made of gold wire and opals. "Your
birthstone," Ray said quietly as he leaned back, touching Benny's solid
support. 

"At a quaint little shop across town. I saw it in the window and instantly
thought of you, dear lady." He reached across the table and squeezed her
hand affectionately. 

Ray didn't notice the touch. He allowed Benny to pull him back from the
table a step. 

"It's an enchanting pin, Mrs. Vecchio. The angel seems quite appropriate
for one as lovely as yourself. Ma'am, Sergeant Frobisher, if you will
excuse us Ray and I have an appointment." With a polite nod of his head he
steered an abnormally speechless Ray from the restaurant. 

"A pin, Benny," Ray repeated for the-- well, nobody was keeping a count.
He sighed and sank back against Fraser's couch again. A Bee Gees disco
song welled up from the other side of the apartment's room divider. "Can
you turn that down? I felt like such an idiot standing there." Ray shifted
uncomfortably and glared at the barrier between him and his lover.
"Fraser," he called impatiently over the music. 

Long brown hair swirled around Ms Fraser's shoulders as she stepped from
the darkness. A satin red dress clung to her body and emphasized her pert
breasts and slender hips. She twirled as she approached Detective Vecchio
which sent the extremely short hem flaring out to reveal the tops of
seamed hose clasped in the hooks of a black garter belt. And her black
flats (thank God) slid across the bare floor in little steps and turns
until she stood arm's length from her admirer. 

With a crook of her finger she pulled him to his feet and he moved slowly
forward to press against her. Green eyes locked with her blue ones. She
stood almost still; a slight swaying wouldn't leave her hips, waiting for
him to take her in his arms. 

The detective's left hand slid up her thigh to rest low on her hip. His
right hand started at her fingertips and traveled slowly up her arm to her
bare shoulder and brushed across the back of the halter-style neckline's
high collar. That hand drifted down to caress her bare back and further
down to curl around her left cheek. She sighed and smiled. The slender man
smiled with her and moved that hand to her left hip. 

He guided her smoothly to the center of the room and the music encircled
them. She tilted her head to the right as he danced with her, loving the
feel of long hair brushing over her bare shoulder. Detective Vecchio put
his lips on the sensitive flesh below her left ear. He pulled back and
chuckled low and breathy when he found the dangling earring beneath her
hair. He nudged it aside and ran his tongue over the spot. Her skin
chilled. Then he covered it with his hot mouth and heated the blood
passing through her vulnerable throat. The heat spread out all through her
body. He held her like that for a moment then sought out her gaze. 

A passionate sigh floated from her parted lips and she turned to look into
his bright eyes. He licked his lips and she saw his desire. The perfectly
curved lines of her red shaded lips touched his. She settled their
contours against his full lower lip and delicate upper lip. 

She swayed against him as he pulled her closer joining their mouths and
encouraging her to color his lips with her passionate red shade. She
blazed the color across his flesh as she opened herself to him. He took
the opportunity presented to him and established his presence in her body.
The man brushed his tongue into her mouth pushing earnestly to meet her
own. She moaned and he pushed his other desire against her groin. A
hardness met her own arousal and she shuddered in his embrace. 

"Ray," she sighed his name and felt her head spin as he turned her in a
gliding circle, moving much slower than the beat of the music. He
recaptured her mouth and all human sound faded below the music for a while
as they danced, joined as closely as possible. 

His lips sought out the sensitive skin on her neck again and he sucked
there for a moment. Then his lips played across her ear. 

"I like the new dress," he whispered. 

"Do you? I didn't think you'd notice," she teased. 

"It fits perfectly. Did you try it on in the shop?" he teased back. 

"Yes. I did," she answered. 

"You should have taken me along on your shopping trip. I could have helped
you with your zippers and things," he said playfully as he ran his hands
up and down her bare back. 

"No zippers, Officer." She reached back and adjusted his hands lower to
her ass. 

He squeezed the rounded flesh and swayed even slower than the music's
increasing tempo. "I could have helped you out of your jeans. They have a
zipper." 

"I didn't wear my jeans." 

The detective pulled away a little and arched his eyebrows in mock
surprise. "You went shopping for this in your uniform?" 

"No." She kissed him on the tip of his nose and started him swaying again.
"I wore my blue dress." 

A stunned look dawned on his face. "You're not joke--" He dropped his
forehead on her shoulder. "Oh my God. I can't believe you went--" 

"What?" she finally asked, growing more nervous at the prolonged silence.
"Ray?" 

He pulled his head up and studied her face intently. "Are you going
shopping again? I mean . . . like this?" 

She averted her face from him and shifted her hands nervously up to his
waist. She felt his body slow to a stop. 

"Cause if you do . . ." He pulled her face back to his, echoing the
movement that had been used on him in the car earlier that evening. "I
want to go with you. Watch you pick things out. See you try them on." *** 

"Well, yes, Sergeant. The cut of the tunic does accentuate the broadness
of my shoulders. But I observed my reflection in a store window on the way
here this morning and I'm quite certain that the red serge also
accentuates the broadness of . . . other assets." 

Fraser pivoted, presenting a view of his posterior to Frobisher who was
seated at Fraser's own desk. Since arriving in Chicago Buck seemed to
spend an inordinate amount of time occupying Fraser's desk chair. It would
be extremely rude and completely ungracious of the Constable to point this
out and so far he had managed to restrain each impulse to mention the
subject. However the Inspector was expecting him to accomplish a large
amount of paperwork today. He would need to find and available place to do
the work right after he finished voicing his growing concerns about his
own appearance. Or rather, Ray's concerns. 

"Your butt?" Buck tilted his head down and glared under his bushy eyebrows
at Fraser. "You're concerned about the width of your butt? I don't think
that's a particularly valuable subject for a Constable of the Royal
Canadian Mounted Police to be spending time contemplating. Police work in
*my* opinion never involves the contemplation of butts, boy." 

Fraser spun back around. "Oh. I didn't think about the fact that you might
be overly sensitive to the subject, sir. I do apologize--" 

"*Overly sensitive*? You think I'm overly sensitive?" Buck glared harder
and clutched at the arms of the chair as if he were holding himself back
from getting up and dealing a lot closer with Fraser. 

"Well, with the considerable girth of your own . . . " Fraser shifted his
stance and tilted his head the other way. "I mean the inevitable spread of
certain parts of your anatomy . . . " 

"And is this your own opinion Constable Fraser, or might you have heard
them from another source?" 

"They're certainly not *my* comments, sir. I'm simply repeating--" 

"Something you heard while having a little home cooked pasta, perhaps?"
Buck rose slowly. "While dining in the company of an Italian woman or
two?" He came around the desk. "With maybe a son and some grandkids thrown
in to liven up the conversation?" 

"Oh. You're referring to Mrs.-- Oh. Heavens, no! Not at all, I assure you,
sir. It was something my father said concerning the time you carried him .
. . " Fraser's voice trailed off. Buck's face had grown from angry to
alarmed during his fumbled explanation. 

"You're father talked to you about my butt? He discussed a man's *butt*
with you?" 

"Not exactly discussed, sir." Fraser tried to keep his explanation precise
to avoid upsetting the Sergeant any further. "He wrote about his
observation in his journal." There. That was much better. 

"*Wrote* about my *butt*? And he had you *read* it? Just what did he say
and more to the point, why in the world did you read it?" 

That was three questions, Fraser realized. Well, more precisely four
because the last sentence, an obviously run-on sentence, contained two
questions within its structure. "Sir? Which question would you like me to
answer first?" 

Frobisher took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Constable, I'm going
to give you just three seconds to get out of my office." 

But . . . this wasn't Frobisher's office. It was-- Two and a half seconds.
Fraser fled. ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  Will Sergeant Frobisher ever
overcome the shock of learning that his dear, departed friend discussed
his derrier? And will Fraser ever get an impartial opinion on the
attractiveness of his posterior? Tune in next week for the exciting
adventures of: A BUCK AND CHANGE EPISODE 5 or A Cop and a Carjack. ~ * ~ *
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~   QUIZ BIZZ FROM THE BOYS IN THE BACK ROOM 

1. Which of his other dresses did Benny wear to go shopping? 

2. Does Buck spend more time seated or standing in episode four? 

3. Who would look better in the red dress? Fraser or Frannie? 

4. What is Mrs. Vecchio's birthstone? 

5. Which musical group were Benny and Ray dancing to? 

6. How did Benny know Ray was lying to him? ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * *
* * * * * QUIZ BIZZ ANSWERS * * * * * * * 

1. The blue one, and it just so happens that it's his ONLY other one!
Sheesh! 

2. Seated (thank God again). No chairs were injured during the blocking of
this show. 

3. Enough with the Frannie and her clothes! I thought we'd already settled
this! Exactly whose brother are you? 

But this was a valid question! I swear. I was gonna try and see if the
readers preferred Ray's point of view or . . . 

"Out!" 

"My uncle works at CBS. I could put in a good word for the third season
buy . . . "Any ideas for the next question? Need some coffee? Better
chair?" 

4. Opal. 

5. The Bee Gees. 

6. Because Ray loves him. {romantic sigh} End Disclaimer: This story is
written for the private entertainment of fans. No infringement of any
copyrights held by Alliance Communication, CBS, CTV, or any others is
intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not
give permission for this story to be reproduced in any form. The author
makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of
this story. Mitch_H@hotmail.com geocities.com/soho/lofts/5843/mh-fict.htm