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Title: My Title Brings All the Boys to the Yard
Fandom: due South/Robocop: the Series
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating:PG
Word count: 890
Summary: Vecchio put a few drops of fun in Fraser's tea.
Author's Notes: For mrs_laugh_track. The drug "fun" appears in "Zone Five," a.k.a. "The Episode Of Robocop With Don McKellar In It," a.k.a. "The Only Episode Of Robocop I Have Seen So Far Although This Will Be Remedied Soon Enough." I apologize for any errors in Robocop canon. Unbeta'd. Title courtesy of snoopypez.

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"Ray," Fraser said accusingly, "did you put something in my tea?"

Ray eyed him warily. "A few drops of fun?"

Fraser's eyes widened. "Ray!"

"Look, it wasn't my fault, okay? Some asshole spiked the communion wine in church yesterday and I'm still high. Although I'm probably coming down because the look on your face is making me feel like shit."

Fraser's eyes widened further. "The entire congregation was given an addictive illegal narcotic as a prank? By whom?"

Ray shrugged. "Probably one of Zuko's guys. You know he runs the fun trade in my neighborhood. But there's no evidence. Come on, let's get lunch."

"There's always evidence, Ray. We should go over there now and investigate. Perhaps one of the altar boys saw something." Fraser reached for his hat--and drew his hand back, flushing, when he remembered it was gone. He'd been a plainclothes OCP officer for months now, ever since the Mounties had turned mercenary, roaming Old Canada in packs like wild dogs who'd wear the collar of the highest bidder--not like wolves, as Fraser was very careful to point out whenever anyone made the comparison. Ray was pretty sure Fraser hated OCP as much as anyone, but it was the closest to being a cop there was anymore in the Lakes District. And every damn time he reached for his hat it broke Ray's heart.

"Why do you still want to solve the crime instead of going to lunch?" Ray demanded. "You're not supposed to be feeling any guilt!"

Fraser blinked, looking vaguely hurt. "I don't solve crimes because of guilt, Ray. I live my life by principles arrived at through logic and experience. The right thing to do doesn't change simply because of how I feel."

"You mean I spiked your drink for nothing?"

"Evidently so. The church, Ray?"

"Look, Fraser, the point is not to solve the crime. The point is that seeing his entire family high on fun is not something that should happen to anyone. Ma took all her clothes off and then she and Father Behan--" Ray shuddered. "I'm just saying, if the only thing that prevents that from happening on a regular basis is guilt, I've got a new appreciation for religion."

"What did you do?" Fraser asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"What did you do when you didn't feel guilty?"

Ray tried not to, but he grinned. "I got my own place."

"Really?"

"Yep. I mean, it's only a few blocks from Ma so I can get over there in a hurry if anything's going down. And it's a dump, but what else is there these days? You wanna see it?"

Fraser coughed and shifted in his chair, his eyes going slightly unfocused. "Ray."

"What is it, Benny?"

"There is something that--well, I thought I had solid reasons, but it appears there is an area of my life in which I was chiefly motivated by guilt. Lingering guilt over past actions, and foreseen guilt over the demands I would be making on you, demands that--"

Ray sat up straighter. "Demands on me?"

Fraser flushed. "I should have told you this sooner, Ray. I hope it's not an unpleasant surprise that I have feelings for you."

"You have feelings for me," Ray repeated slowly. "What kind of feelings?"

Fraser tugged on his ear. "Affection," he said softly. "Attraction." He smiled a little. "Some aggravation, naturally--"

Ray laughed. "Yeah, a lot of A words, I got that. I, uh--I would not call this an unpleasant surprise, no. A really, really good surprise, yes."

"So you--"

"I would have called it love and lust, but yeah."

Fraser's eyes lit up. "You were offering to show me your apartment," he said significantly.

Ray wilted in his chair. "Don't do this to me, Fraser," he pleaded. "You know we can't do anything till you come down."

"Why not?" Fraser asked in surprise.

"Why not? Because I consider a little thing called informed consent a necessary part of any--"

"But Ray," Fraser said innocently, "I thought you were still feeling the effects of fun yourself."

"Guilt isn't the only reason I don't take advantage of drunk girls, Fraser!" He waved his hand apologetically. "Or guys."

"In other words, you live your life by--"

"Yeah, yeah, principles. But mostly guilt, so don't spread it around. Anyway, I hardly gave you any. It should only be"--he checked his watch--"two hours?"

"How will we know it's worn off?"

"You'll feel it."

Fraser leaned towards him. "And if I say I feel fine now--?"

Ray gaped, too stunned to even be turned on. "Fraser, are you lying?"

Fraser smiled. "Guilt has never prevented me from lying, Ray. Although it has prevented me from letting you know about it." He looked thoughtful. "Really, this is a fascinating experience."

"You sound like Frannie," Ray said disgustedly. "She says it changed her whole life and she's moving to the People's Republic of Minnesota to become a performance artist."

Fraser pressed his lips together very tightly.

"Aha!" Ray crowed. "You're trying not to make a joke about hoping she goes for mime, right?"

"No," Fraser said firmly. "May I borrow your pen? I have to write you up for stealing fun from the evidence locker."