Notes: The usual disclaimers apply, and then some. It's all mergatrude's fault.
"Fraser, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm not doing anything, Ray. It's happening of its own volition." Fraser's voice was increasingly muffled. "And it's not particularly comfortable," he added, breathlessly.
"Whatever it is, make it stop."
"I don't believe I can." Fraser patted his head, like he was trying to find out what shape his antenna was.
"It's a hat, Fraser," Ray told him. Fraser was still Mountie red, but he'd swollen up all over, and his eyes were big and flat and expressionless. "This is all your fault! It was your idea to come down here and investigate that weird face in the sun, and now you're a big red monster with the outline of a stetson sticking out of your head."
"Ah," said Fraser, calm as ever. After a long thoughful pause, he added, "I suspect my new name is Hattie."
Ray glared at Laa-laa and Po playing over by a big green blob of a tree. "We gotta get this straightened out, Fraser. Those things are evil."
"Not at all, Ray. In fact, they've been very welcoming. I told them the story of Caribou Jane and they enjoyed it so much they asked me to repeat it again and again."
Ray snorted. "Welcoming, huh? I've been reading about that purple one. You can tell him from me, if he so much as lays a finger on you, I'm going to adjust his fucking reception with my boot."
Fraser's looked down at his big red belly. "I'm not sure 'him' is a particularly useful signifier when it comes to teletubbies, Ray, since we don't appear to have sex organs."
Ray stared at him in horror. "We are fixing this now!"
Dipsy waved his hands at them, and patted the grey rectangle on his tummy. It shimmered, and showed a picture.
"Holy fuck!" said Ray.
Dipsy jumped back, clapping his hands to his ears.
"What? Jeez, the thing has cable TV in its stomach. You'd think bad language would be the least of its worries."
Ray lost it. He shoved his glasses on his nose, whipped his gun out of its holster, and aimed it at Laa-laa. "Help Fraser get human again, or I'm going to smash your fucking cathode ray tube to smithereens."
Laa-laa shook his head, and gibbered in a high-pitched voice.
Ray couldn't make out anything he was saying, so he took a menacing step forward.
Laa-laa fell over, and flailed on the ground.
"Oh dear," said Fraser, running onto the scene, hand in hand with Tinky-Winky. "Ray, please be careful. The show starts in less than ten minutes."
"Fraser, I told you to stay away from the purple one!"
"What did you think of the show, Ray?"
Ray pressed his lips together, and refused to say a word.
Ray was dead on his feet. He'd talked to every snitch he could think of, but no one had any idea how to make Fraser human again. Mostly they'd looked at him like he was crazy. His mouth was tired from snarling threats, his eyes kept falling shut, and he staggered when he walked because it was too much effort to lift his feet properly.
"Nap time," said Fraser cheerily.
"Shut up, Fraser," Ray slurred. "Do not talk to me like I'm a kid." He sat down abruptly on the soft green grass.
Fraser sat next to him, his back against a convenient tree. Everything in teletubby land was fucking convenient. It made Ray's head hurt.
"It's all right," said Fraser, soothingly. He pulled Ray over so his head was resting in Fraser's lap. It was comfortable and it smelt surprisingly like Fraser. Fraser's hand, faintly furry, brushed through Ray's hair, and Ray was asleep in seconds.
Ray woke to the sound of Gary Thorne and Bill Clement describing a penalty in excited detail. "Thank fuck, it was all a dream," he thought. When he opened his eyes, though, all he saw was red fuzz. He rolled onto his back.
Teletubby Fraser peered down at him. "I think I've discovered how to activate it," he said.
Ray's eyes dropped to the panel on Fraser's belly, where a hockey match was in full swing. "Oh my god, Fraser! You get EPSN! I love you!"
Fraser tilted his head, which Ray was figuring out meant he was trying to smile. "You know, Ray, you've said that before, but—"
"Beer!" Ray interrupted. "I need beer. Where can I—?"
"This place is hell, Fraser."
Ray raced triumphantly down the green grassy slope. "I've figured it out, Fraser."
Fraser looked up from his warm-up exercises. "The show starts in three minutes, Ray. I need to—"
"First," said Ray, "we have to gun down the other teletubbies, like the Valentine's Day massacre only messier. Blood, guts, stuffing everywhere. That's the only way to appease
Fraser still looked pale, but he nodded encouragingly.
"Turns out I'm Loki. Or, at least, I represent Loki. Didn't really understand that bit. But that's not the important part, Fraser. Look!" Ray turned and waved his hand extravagantly, to where Dief was galloping across the sky.
"Skoll," said Fraser, sounding surprised. "Dief is Skoll?"
"Yeah. He eats the sun, you turn back into you, with all your parts intact." Ray hoped that last bit was true, anyway. The book had been old and about as easy to understand as a memo from the State's Attorney's Office. He shrugged off his uncertainty and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Go, Dief!"
Dief put on a heroic burst of speed, and his wolfy jaws closed around the sun.
Everything went dark.
"You okay there?"
"I believe so."
"Thank Christ." The lights came back on, and yeah, there was Fraser. Red suit, hat on his head, but not looking anything like a blobby TV character anymore. Ray couldn't help hugging him tight. "Glad to have you back, buddy."
"It's good to be back, Ray, although my foray into children's television was really most enlightening."
Ray looked at his watch. Then he glanced longingly at Fraser's flat human stomach, before meeting Fraser's eye. "Tell me later. The game starts in fifteen minutes, and we gotta get through rush hour."
"Right you are, Ray." Fraser nodded gravely, but his eyes were shining with gratitude.
Ray shrugged, feeling embarrassed but unable to keep from grinning. "Yeah, and don't you forget it."
He turned toward the parking lot, wondering whether, after the game, he'd maybe get a chance to check for himself that Fraser was properly back, all in one piece, present and correct. After all, that old Norse book had been right so far, and the book had said Ray was a Loki guy.