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Title: Closeted
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lucy_roman
Rating: Teen and up
Summary: Ray is stuck in a closet
Pairing: Ray Kowalski/Benton Fraser
Word Count: 910
Ray has been trapped for the past two hours. At least two hours. He knows if Fraser were here he would know the length of time to the nanosecond but if Fraser were here he wouldn't have ended up trapped in the closet of the murder victim.
On the plus side it is a fairly roomy closet and thankfully not where Sherry Langdon, 26, white female, possible prostitute, was killed.
Ray had been searching the victim's apartment when he thought he heard the sound of a phone ringing from inside said closet. He had scrambled to find it since the person on the other end might have valuable intel on his victim. But the line went dead the moment Ray said hello and when he turned round to go back out into the room he found the door had latched shut and no amount of jiggling would set him free. Shooting his way out wasn't an option either. The walls in this particular building were distressingly thin and Ray didn't want to think about what might happen if one of his bullets went astray.
Ray had sat down on the floor. The closet was larger than most, certainly it was larger than the one in his apartment, but it still wasn't big enough to allow him to stretch out his legs. Two hours and an unknown number of minutes and seconds have gone by and Ray is suffering through the worst case of pins and needles he has ever had.
My phone. Of course.
Ray takes it out of his pocket and stares at it. Who should he call? He'll never hear the end of it if Huey and Dewey find out. Sadly that pretty much eliminates most of the people who might be able to help him.
What about Fraser?
Ray puts his phone down on the floor in front of him. It's heavy and his arm is tired. He stares at it as he thinks.
What about Fraser?
He's pretty sure he can trust the mountie to rescue him without making fun of him for getting trapped in the first place. He should call. He knows the number of Fraser's office off by heart. Has dialled it enough times. Sometimes for work, sometimes to arrange a friendly meal or drink, and sometimes just for the pleasure of hearing Fraser's voice.
Okay, yes, he'll call Fraser.
He is reaching out for his phone when a sound stops him. Footsteps, walking past the bedroom door and then he hears them come back again. Ray draws his gun. He wants to at least have the illusion of being able to defend himself.
Then he hears something which makes him put his gun back into its holster. A voice that he knows better than anything else.
"Ray?"
"Here." Ray tries to leap to his feet but his legs have gone numb and instead he yelps with pain.
"Ray."
And then the closet door is being pulled open and Ray blinks as light floods into his prison.
"Are you alright?"
"Peachy, thanks." And then Ray thinks perhaps he should be a little more grateful. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
There is a concerned look on Fraser's face. Ray is trying to straighten his legs and grimacing in pain as he does so.
"How'd you know I was here?"
"You were supposed to meet me at six. When you didn't show up I went to the precinct. Francesca told me where you'd gone."
"Six?" Ray looks up. "Have long have I been here?"
Fraser glances at his watch. "Well, Francesca says you left the precinct at 3.19pm. Now assuming the average journey time from there to here was twenty minutes, then you've been here for three hours and twelve minutes."
"Oh." Ray tries wriggling his toes and is pleased to find that the pain has largely gone. "How many seconds?"
"Is that really important?"
"Naw, I just wondered." Ray grins. "Help me up?"
"Of course."
Fraser takes hold of Ray's proffered hand and pulls the detective to his feet. Ray's legs wobble beneath him and Fraser wraps an arm around Ray's chest to give him some support.
"Thanks." Ray's eyes narrow, he might be wrong but he thinks he can see the glimmer of a smile on Fraser's face. "You won't tell anyone will you?"
Fraser's face is far too close to his own for comfort.
"About what, Ray?"
"About the whole getting stuck in the closet thing."
"Oh. No, of course not. If that's what you want."
"It is." Ray nods a little more frantically than is strictly necessary. "Absolutely."
"Ah."
That word could be interpreted in many different ways. How would Fraser like him to interpret it?
"Ray."
He hates the way Fraser does that. How he can change the whole tenor of their situation just by saying his name.
Then Fraser's hand is cupping his face, drawing him in for a kiss, all the sweeter because these moments are so rare. Ray isn't sure whether it is him or Fraser who is holding back. Maybe it's both of them.
Fraser draws back. "How about that meal?"
"We missed our reservation."
"I'm sure Luca will be able to find us a table." There is something in Fraser's expression that Ray can't quite put his finger on.
"Okay," Ray says and he reaches out to grasp Fraser's hand. The mountie smiles at him. Maybe it was worth getting stuck in that closet after all.
Author:
lucy_romanRating: Teen and up
Summary: Ray is stuck in a closet
Pairing: Ray Kowalski/Benton Fraser
Word Count: 910
Ray has been trapped for the past two hours. At least two hours. He knows if Fraser were here he would know the length of time to the nanosecond but if Fraser were here he wouldn't have ended up trapped in the closet of the murder victim.
On the plus side it is a fairly roomy closet and thankfully not where Sherry Langdon, 26, white female, possible prostitute, was killed.
Ray had been searching the victim's apartment when he thought he heard the sound of a phone ringing from inside said closet. He had scrambled to find it since the person on the other end might have valuable intel on his victim. But the line went dead the moment Ray said hello and when he turned round to go back out into the room he found the door had latched shut and no amount of jiggling would set him free. Shooting his way out wasn't an option either. The walls in this particular building were distressingly thin and Ray didn't want to think about what might happen if one of his bullets went astray.
Ray had sat down on the floor. The closet was larger than most, certainly it was larger than the one in his apartment, but it still wasn't big enough to allow him to stretch out his legs. Two hours and an unknown number of minutes and seconds have gone by and Ray is suffering through the worst case of pins and needles he has ever had.
My phone. Of course.
Ray takes it out of his pocket and stares at it. Who should he call? He'll never hear the end of it if Huey and Dewey find out. Sadly that pretty much eliminates most of the people who might be able to help him.
What about Fraser?
Ray puts his phone down on the floor in front of him. It's heavy and his arm is tired. He stares at it as he thinks.
What about Fraser?
He's pretty sure he can trust the mountie to rescue him without making fun of him for getting trapped in the first place. He should call. He knows the number of Fraser's office off by heart. Has dialled it enough times. Sometimes for work, sometimes to arrange a friendly meal or drink, and sometimes just for the pleasure of hearing Fraser's voice.
Okay, yes, he'll call Fraser.
He is reaching out for his phone when a sound stops him. Footsteps, walking past the bedroom door and then he hears them come back again. Ray draws his gun. He wants to at least have the illusion of being able to defend himself.
Then he hears something which makes him put his gun back into its holster. A voice that he knows better than anything else.
"Ray?"
"Here." Ray tries to leap to his feet but his legs have gone numb and instead he yelps with pain.
"Ray."
And then the closet door is being pulled open and Ray blinks as light floods into his prison.
"Are you alright?"
"Peachy, thanks." And then Ray thinks perhaps he should be a little more grateful. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
There is a concerned look on Fraser's face. Ray is trying to straighten his legs and grimacing in pain as he does so.
"How'd you know I was here?"
"You were supposed to meet me at six. When you didn't show up I went to the precinct. Francesca told me where you'd gone."
"Six?" Ray looks up. "Have long have I been here?"
Fraser glances at his watch. "Well, Francesca says you left the precinct at 3.19pm. Now assuming the average journey time from there to here was twenty minutes, then you've been here for three hours and twelve minutes."
"Oh." Ray tries wriggling his toes and is pleased to find that the pain has largely gone. "How many seconds?"
"Is that really important?"
"Naw, I just wondered." Ray grins. "Help me up?"
"Of course."
Fraser takes hold of Ray's proffered hand and pulls the detective to his feet. Ray's legs wobble beneath him and Fraser wraps an arm around Ray's chest to give him some support.
"Thanks." Ray's eyes narrow, he might be wrong but he thinks he can see the glimmer of a smile on Fraser's face. "You won't tell anyone will you?"
Fraser's face is far too close to his own for comfort.
"About what, Ray?"
"About the whole getting stuck in the closet thing."
"Oh. No, of course not. If that's what you want."
"It is." Ray nods a little more frantically than is strictly necessary. "Absolutely."
"Ah."
That word could be interpreted in many different ways. How would Fraser like him to interpret it?
"Ray."
He hates the way Fraser does that. How he can change the whole tenor of their situation just by saying his name.
Then Fraser's hand is cupping his face, drawing him in for a kiss, all the sweeter because these moments are so rare. Ray isn't sure whether it is him or Fraser who is holding back. Maybe it's both of them.
Fraser draws back. "How about that meal?"
"We missed our reservation."
"I'm sure Luca will be able to find us a table." There is something in Fraser's expression that Ray can't quite put his finger on.
"Okay," Ray says and he reaches out to grasp Fraser's hand. The mountie smiles at him. Maybe it was worth getting stuck in that closet after all.