by

QUILL

Ray frowned as he pulled up in front of the apartment building. His head was still killing him...First locking the Riv, the cop headed for Fraser's apartment, flinching at every yelling match he heard as he climbed the stairs to 3J. Pushing open the newly painted door, Ray wandered into the kitchen area of Fraser's home. "Benny? You here?" he called.

"Over here, Ray," came the Mountie's voice from the main room.

Walking back around the dividing wall, Ray saw Fraser and what Fraser was doing. The Canadian, God only knows where, had found himself a set of black satin sheets. If his head didn't hurt so much, Ray would have smiled at the sight of those luxurious sheets on that Spartan bunk. Why the devil had Benny bought the things?

Fraser straightened up and looked at Ray, taking in the man's pale face. "Ray, what's wrong?"

"Ah, Benny" muttered Ray, rubbing his forehead. "I've got one hell of a headache -- I've had it all day and I can't get rid of it. I've tried everything."

"Here." Fraser moved over to Ray and helped that man out of his coat and jacket. Pulling the cop over to the newly-made bed, Fraser pulled Ray down to sit on the edge of it. "Sit down, Ray, I'll see if I can help."

"An Inuit remedy?" murmured Ray tiredly.

"No, something my grandmother used to do for my grandfather when he got his migraines." Kicking his tennis shoes off, Fraser knelt on the bed behind Ray and started to gently rub is fingers over Ray's hot forehead, softly soothing.

Ray leant his head back, stretching a little as he did so. "Hmm, that's nice, Benny"

"I'm glad, Ray" murmured Fraser as he widened his stance a little. Touching Ray like this was starting to make him hot -- not that he needed much to turn him on with Ray this close.

Ever since Fraser had bought the sheets during his lunch break, he'd been picturing Ray spread out on black satin in all his splendor... Fraser had everything planned...a lovely dinner, a long talk...and perhaps a dream of his coming true. But here was the man who Fraser had been waiting for, complaining of a headache!

The Canadian let his hands move from Ray's furrowed brow to either side of his neck, and then to his nape, still gently massaging. Fraser wriggled uncomfortably again, hoping Ray wouldn't realize what was going on behind him.

"That's great, Benny," whispered Ray, slumping back even further into Fraser's embrace.

Gritting his teeth, Fraser took a deep breath and climbed off the bed. "Here, get these clothes off, Ray, and lie down properly."

"Hmmm, what? Benny ..." The cop blinked in mild surprise.

Fraser could see that Ray was still out of it, and he smiled to himself as all his plans went flying out of the window. First helping the man he had fallen in love with to get undressed down to his shorts, Fraser then pushed the cop down onto the bed, pulling the top sheet up to the man's chin. Turning, Fraser switched off the bedside lamp. Then, kneeling on the floor, the Canadian ran a gentle hand across Ray's creased forehead. "Do you want anything, Ray? An aspirin?"

"...hmm? No, thanks, Benny," murmured Ray, snuggling into the cool satin-covered pillow. "...this is nice..."

Fraser watched as Ray drifted into sleep, the lines of pain slowly disappearing from his friend's face. Climbing to his feet, the Canadian went through to the kitchen and blew out the candles he'd placed on the table. Then Fraser moved back over to the bed, and saw that Ray was deeply asleep.

For long minutes Fraser stood smiling down at the man, before he undressed down to his shorts and slipped into the bed beside the cop. Wrapping loving arms around Ray, Fraser gently positioned the man so that the cop's now cool cheek rested on Fraser's bare chest.

And Fraser lay there, dreaming of the future, one hand gently rubbing Ray' nape softly soothing until Fraser, too, fell asleep.

There was always tomorrow.

END