Title: Hello, City

Author: Seana Renay.

Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski.

Rating: Slash, PG.

Summary: Fraser's in Canada. Ray's bored. (Your standard telephone dialogue fic.)

Disclaimer: Not mine. I'd only ask for Turnbull, anyway.

Distribution/Feedback: If you'd like it, please let me know.

Notes: This thing probably doesn't even qualify as slash. It's very vaguely slashy. At least in my opinion. And yes, I borrowed the club name from Buffy. (Hmm . . . Xander and Turnbull. Wonder if two Zeppos together would be overkill?) And the title is only the title because I'm currently listening to BnL.

Date: January 2001.



***



"Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP."

"Geez, Fraser, you sound like a telemarketer. I hate your phone voice, have I told you that before?"

"Who am I speaking to, please?"

"Come off it, Mountie. It ain't like you got any other friends."

"Hello there, Ray. How are you?"

"Miserable. Freaking bored. Come home."

"I believe I am at home, Ray. I will return to Chicago at the end of the week, as scheduled."

"What the hell are you doing up there, anyway?"

"I am on--"

"I know, I know. Your ...sabotage, sacrilege..."

"Sabbatical, Ray."

"Isn't that like a Jewish thing? You're not Jewish, Fraser."

"I am aware of that, Ray, thank you kindly. It is simply a vacation of sorts, for the purpose of rest and study."

"What the hell you got to study for? The whole point of growing up and getting a job is that you don't gotta study for anything anymore."

"That is an interesting way of looking at it, Ray. How are things in Chicago?"

"Oh, everything's different, you wouldn't believe it. The Ice Queen had a nervous breakdown, not being able to see your pretty face every day. They threw her in the nut house. Without his hero around, Turnbull found a new gig; playing Mountie Mike at the Fabulous Ladies Night Club across town. Talk about desecrating the uniform. You gotta come home and talk some sense into that boy."

"You're very funny, Ray. Am I to assume that you've stayed on the straight and narrow?"

"Would I even know where the Fabulous Ladies Night Club was if I stayed on the straight and narrow? Hell, I'm Turnbull's biggest tipper. Ba-dum-bum."

"Oh, dear."

"Sorry. 'Language, Ray.' And probably 'Impure thoughts about Mounties and their sacred red serge, Ray,' too."

"You have impure thoughts about the uniform?"

"Er...no?"

"You don't sound entirely sure about that."

"It's a really nice uniform, Fraser."

"Oh, dear."

"So, how's Dief? And how much did you appreciate my swift and pointed subject change, there?"

"Very much, Ray. Nicely executed. And Diefenbaker is admittedly melancholy. Perhaps he feels Chicago is now our home, as well, and is homesick. He certainly misses you."

"He just tell you that?" "He's making eyes at the telephone that are usually reserved for sugary confections."

"Aw. At least I know somebody misses me."

"I miss you, Ray."

"Geez, Fraser, break a guy's heart, why don't you?"

"Don't be silly, Ray."

"Oh, see....You gotta go and ruin a perfectly good greeting-card, long-distance-commercial moment."

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"Buddy, I love you, but if you say my name like that one more time, I'm coming up there to kick you in the head. It ain't like I'm gonna forget it."

"I'm sorry, R--I'm sorry...Detective Vecchio."

"Come to think of it, Fraser, never mind. 'Ray' away."

"I thought as much, Ray."

"Sneaky Canadian bastard."

"Funny how I missed you considerably more when we weren't actually speaking."

"Yeah, real funny. What was that, Canadian sarcasm?"

"Careful, Ray. You wouldn't want Constable Turnbull to discover that you've been insulting his mother land."

"I could take Turnbull...Fraser? Fraser, quit laughing at me."

"Oh . . . Oh, my. That, Ray, I am not sorry for."

"Yeah. You do know that you're going to Hell, right? We're clear on that?"

"Canadians don't believe in Hell, Ray."

"They don't?"

"Ray..."

"Is this just compensatory smartassness? Ya know, because I'm not around?"

"You know the word 'compensatory'?"

"Sheesh. I'm killing my phone bill so you can take cheap shots. Remind me why I care that you're gone?"

"Because, apparently, you're decidedly fond of my uniform."

"Oh, yeah....It is really nice, Fraser. Really, really nice..."

"Are you making inappropriate insinuations, Ray?"

"Damn. It was a lot more fun when you couldn't figure them out."

"Ray?"

"Fraser."

"Would you like me to call you tomorrow? Or do you think you're capable of toughing out the remainder of my absence on your own?"

"Nah, you enjoy your studying. And give Dief a doughnut tomorrow. You've probably been feeding him tree bark or somethin'."

"I'll do that."

"Hey, Fraser? One more thing."

"Certainly, Ray."

"Motherfucker."

"Language, Ray!"

"There you go. Just needed to hear it once, to get me through the week. Miss you, Fraser."

"I...miss you, too, Ray."

"'Night."

"Goodnight, Ray."