Date: Tuesday, February 08, 20008:00 PM
From: LaToot@aol.com
Notes: This was inspired in part bya waking dream I had at Escapade 2000, and in part by a certainscene in Mountie on the Bounty that has been the cause of one ofmy more classic Due South-related rants.
Disclaimers, et al.: Benton Fraser,Ray Kowalski and Meg Thatcher belong to Alliance. If Fraser andKowalski were *mine*, I'd let them do it wherever they damn wellpleased. Rated NC-17 for boy/boy smut.
Thanks to Audra for, as always,listening.
Feedback should be properly andcourteously delivered to LaToot@aol.com.
== Appropriate
by LaT February 2000
Meg was certain the file wassomewhere in her office, but it wasn't on her desk. She had neverbeen excessively tidy, but things were always in their place. Itwas a function of her natural inclination to impatience and thefact that one of the things she most hated in life was wastingtime. Particularly wasting time looking for something that wasn'twhere it should be.
The file wasn't on her desk, and thethought occurred to her that perhaps Fraser had taken it so hecould complete his daily report. She could just retrieve it fromhis office. It was after hours, and while it was possible thatFraser was out for the evening, she thought she saw a sliver oflight coming from under his door.
Meg turned the knob and walked in,intending to ask Fraser if he had the file. The words evaporatedbefore they even reached her lips. Fraser wasn't working on areport. He wasn't working at all. He and Ray were on their kneeson the floor, both naked, Fraser behind his partner. Ray's headwas bent forward, blond hair darkened with sweat. Fraser's headrested on the other man's shoulder, and there was no way, even ifshe wanted to, that Meg could deny to herself what they weredoing.
"Oh, Ben … oh,*God*," Ray moaned, shaking his head. Meg stood, transfixedby the sight of Fraser's tongue sliding over the curve of Ray'sshoulder, enthralled by the movement of his hand, gliding downRay's arm in a caress that could only be called possessive.
She wanted, no *needed* to leave.She knew this, and while it seemed to her as though she'd taken astep back, she knew she hadn't moved.
Enough of this, she told herself.She started to back away when Fraser lifted his head, and shefound herself looking right into his eyes. The flush that wentthrough her was hot and quick, and she could feel embarrassmentstaining her cheeks. She had never before noticed just how *blue*his eyes were, and the brightness of them now, the clear andgleaming sharpness that arousal lent them, startled her.
Meg had known from the first thatFraser's mind was quick, his focus laser-keen, and even likethis, in the middle of his pleasure, he *saw* her. He recognizedher embarrassment, and this time, spared her no quarter for anydiscomfort that resulted from her own discourteousness.
His eyes narrowed and the heat inthem mutated, almost instantly, to sheer and bitter cold. Hismovement against his partner's body never slowed, the rhythmnever broke and for several perfect, devastating seconds thatfelt to Meg like years, he held her gaze.
Then he blinked, lowered his head toRay's shoulder again, and there was no doubt in Meg's mind thatshe had just been ... dismissed. She turned quickly on her heeland moved back down the hall. As she closed and locked theConsulate door behind her, she had a thought, simple in itselegance and almost beautiful in its clarity:
//I have *got* to learn to knock.//
===
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