Notes: Scene inspired by Dead Men Don't Throw Rice
"No." Fraser didn't even sound regretful, just stubborn. Ray tried again, keeping his voice down. There was no-one else in the corridor by the holding cells, but still. It paid to play safe.
"Oh come on, Frase. Just tell them we'll put them in the witness protection prog—"
"No," admitted Ray, before he could stop himself. "But you're unofficial. You can say this stuff without the lawyers—" Shit! That was the wrong this to say. The totally wrong thing. Fraser's face had gone cool and upset, and his eyes were reproachful.
"Ray, I'm not going to lie. I'd be putting these men's lives in jeopardy."
A cleaner walked past pushing a bucket with a mop. Ray grabbed Fraser's arm and pulled him around the corner into the alcove by the stairwell.
"Would you stop being so you for just a minute?" he hissed.
"I'm sorry, Ray."
"It's not like we won't look after these guys."
"I can't lie." Fraser looked like he meant it, but it was crap. Anyone could lie. People did it all the time.
"Oh yeah? Well then—" Ray glanced around, and leaned a little closer to Fraser. "Do you trust me?"
"Ray, I—" Fraser looked confused, which was probably fair enough, because Ray didn't even know why he'd asked that. But he pushed on regardless.
"Come on, Fraser. No lying. You said you wouldn't lie."
"You know," said Fraser, "this is very like a conversation I once had with a lemming furrier in—"
Ray braced an arm against the wall, boxing Fraser in, and interrupted. "Do you trust me?"
Fraser stopped. His chin came up and he met Ray's eye. "Of course."
Ray nodded. "Okay. Good." He took a deep breath, and let his head hang down, so he was looking at Fraser's shiny boots. "Will you do this for me?"
And now Fraser did sound regretful, his voice deep and soft. "I'm sorry, Ray. I can't."
Ray kept staring at his feet. It was kind of sad how shiny those boots were, how much work it must take. "No, not that. Forget the stupid witnesses. Will you do something for me?"
"If it's within my power, without—"
"Kiss me." Ray had this weird feeling of fascinated horror, like he was drowning or something. Buddy breathe me. He couldn't believe the words had come out of his mouth.
Fraser made a little choked noise, and Ray looked up. God, Fraser was shocked. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then both started talking at once.
"Never mind. Dumb idea. Forget it."
Fraser held up a hand to interrupt. "Ray, I'm in uniform."
And Ray stepped back, his embarrassment burning through his body. "Yeah, I know, Frase. I'm not blind. I'm not blind. I just— never mind."
"Ask me again," said Fraser.
But Ray was spinning out. "No, forget it. Jeez, would you drop it?"
Fraser shook his head. "I can't. It's not in my nature."
Ray went over and leaned his forehead against the stairwell door. "Yeah, well it seems like that's not the only thing that's not in your nature, so—"
"Ray!" Fraser demanded his attention. "Ask me again."
"Why, so you can have a good laugh? I don't think so. Would you—"
"Do you trust me?" And, fuck, what did that have to do with anything?
But Ray said "Yeah" before he'd even thought about it. Like he trusted Fraser completely, so much he couldn't lie about it. He turned around and looked at his partner.
The corner of Fraser's mouth turned up. "Ask me again."
Ray sighed and surrendered. Once more with masochism. "Will you kiss me, Fraser?" He tried not to think about what he was saying.
Fraser came over and leaned so his mouth was right by Ray's ear. "It would be my very great pleasure."
Ray shook his head. "You're just saying that. You're just— You don't have to, Fraser. If it's such a great idea, you would've—"
"I was taken off guard." Fraser sounded so apologetic it was almost funny.
Ray blinked a couple of times while his worldview turned upsidedown. "So— you want to?"
"Very much so." Fraser nodded. "Although—"
"What?" said Ray, still trying to get his head around this.
Fraser gazed at him earnestly. "Not while I'm in uniform."
"Why not?" said Ray, way more cranky than he intended. "You think I'm gonna dirty it up or something?"
Fraser put his hand on Ray's arm and squeezed. "Of course not, Ray. It's simply that, well, it's not professional."
Okay, okay. Fraser was a freak, but Ray already knew that. Yeah, he could live with that. "Okay. So—" He stared blindly at the red uniform, the brass buttons— "But soon, yeah?"
"Very soon." Fraser meant it. Fraser didn't lie.
They stood for a moment, not moving. And then Ray said, "So, what counts as out of uniform? You take off your string thing and your jacket, and—?"
"The witnesses are waiting."
Witnesses. Work. "Right." Ray shook his head to clear it. "Right. Okay." He stabbed two fingers at Fraser's chest, and said, like a promise, "Soon."