Ray winced, and bent a little closer to the ground. It always fucking *hurt* to be kicked in the stomach, no matter how many times it happened to you. A shadow crossed his body, and he looked up through his sunglasses to a worried Fraser.
"Are you alright, Ray?" he asked concernedly.
"Peachy keen, Frase," Ray coughed out, moving slowly onto his back to relieve the pressure in his stomach. A weak hand lay limply over his chest, and quite frankly Ray thought he'd be happy to lay there for the rest of his life.
"I don't think you're alright, Ray," Fraser said, and Ray rolled his eyes behind his glasses and waved his hand a little. "I'm fine, Fraser. Just give me, like, a year to lay here and soak up the good vibes of the dirty, crack-ridden ground and I'll be as good as new."
He could friggin' *feel* Fraser frown from a foot away. That was kind of freaky.
Fraser's hand reached down and grabbed his, and with a hefty grunt Ray was pulled to his feet. He breathed hard, panting into Fraser's shoulder, and muttered, "So where's the bastard?"
"Diefenbaker has him corralled in the nearby alley," Fraser said, holding Ray up.
"Good. Let's go."
Once Ray got in sight of the bastard that had seen fit to knock the wind out of him, it was nothing to whip out his gun and point it at the guy's head, despite Fraser's disapproving protests. "Where's the stash, Marvetti?" Ray snarled.
"I don't fucking know!" the guy yelled, his hands in the air. He was looking with more fear at the wolf than at Ray, which Fraser could understand. That didn't mean he had to like it.
"Dief there? He's my buddy. You tell me where Carlos stockpiled the latest shipment, and my buddy won't go Rin-tin-tin on your ass," Ray said threateningly.
Dief barked, and Fraser turned to Ray and said, "Diefenbaker really isn't fond of Rin-tin-tin; he claims that he's a negative stereotype of police force-related canines."
Now Ray rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Dief," he said just loud enough for the wolf to pretend to hear.
A few more wranglings, and they had the location of the shipment; Ray handcuffed the perp and called the case into the station, asking for a couple guys to come pick the guy up. When he'd been hauled off to a holding cell, Ray rubbed his stomach again and leaned against the car.
"How badly are you injured, Ray?" God, the Mountie and his neverending concern.
"A couple broken ribs, my heart's bruised--I'm *fine,* Fraser, just drop it, okay?"
Fraser's hand ghosted against his ribs, and Ray couldn't help but smile. "I just worry, Ray."
Ray's head dropped to Fraser's shoulder. "I know, Frase."
words © SA. characters, show, and people not mine. no infringement is intended.