This Was Fraser
Written for Stop Drop Porn, "gender swap." With many sparkly and shiny thanks to Strangecobwebs for doing the lightning-speed beta on this.
Written for Brooklinegirl.
It wasn’t like Ray had never thought to himself, “I wish Fraser was a woman, this whole having-non-platonic-feelings-for-your-pa
“I mean –”
It actually, seriously –
“Christ on a bike, Fraser –”
Totally and completely turned Fraser into a –
“You’re a girl! And you’ve got –”
“Yes, Ray, thank you!” Fraser’s irritated tone wasn’t enough to stop Ray from pointing, but the death-grip of his (too-small) hand on Ray’s finger was. Ray stopped short of actually poking Fraser’s breasts (wrong, wrong, wrong) and stepped away. Fraser dropped his hand and frowned up at him. Ray just stood there, not really knowing what else to say.
He scratched the back of his head, still assessing Fraser’s new…condition, and tried to think of a rational explanation. Besides Voodoo. Because that was just a cheap excuse for the universe to fuck with his head, not to mention Fraser’s –
Well, pretty much, Fraser’s everything.
Ray had, in fact, wondered what Fraser would look like as a woman, ever since their conversation in the crypt, way back when partnerships were new and eagle feathers flew smack-dab into the heads of bad guys. Fraser had mentioned something about going drag for a case, and Ray, being Ray, got curious, so he’d asked around and bugged Welsh till Huey finally produced the photographic evidence, and there he was. Six feet tall plus heels, long red hair, shoulder pads, make-up. Hell, Fraser’d gone all out – then again, he was Fraser. Ray was impressed, if a little repulsed, because no. No, that was not the kind of woman Fraser would have made had he actually been born a woman. Ray thought about Maggie, but that was way off, too. Maggie was Maggie, there was no messing with that side of the gene pool.
And now, Fraser was…a girl. He – she? – was smaller than Ray’d imagined – shorter, a bit more fragile. Reached to maybe five-eight, and his flannel shirt now hung around his shoulders like it was his dad’s. Her dad’s. This was – this was insane.
“Fraser, this is insane.”
“I am very well aware of that fact, Ray, thank you.” Fraser’s voice was higher now, but not really that high for a woman. It was husky and low and pissy, and it did things to Ray. He didn’t want to actually analyze the things it did to him, but he was only human.
And Fraser was a girl.
“So, what the hell do we do?”
“If I knew, Ray, I am certain I would share that information with you.” Fraser crossed his arms in front of his (don’t look, don’t look, don’t look) now-ample chest, and oh yeah, he was definitely pissy. Not that Ray could really blame him. Her. Fraser.
A sudden thought occurred to him, and he voiced it before his brain-to-mouth filter had time to kick in. “So, what, do I call you Benita now, or what?”
He would have expected the punch from a girl. He hadn’t quite expected it from Fraser.
They were sitting in Ray’s living room, Ray nursing a beer and a bad shoulder, Fraser nursing a glass of milk and staring moodily into space. The crazy bat who had turned him into a girl in the first place had gone the way of the highway, but Frannie, in between stammering pauses and blushes, had assured them that the woman had connections and that, eventually, they would be able to trace and find her. Seeing as how it’d been nearly midnight by that point, she’d sent them out of the station, before hightailing it back to her own place to – Ray didn’t even want to know what.
He’d known that Fraser should very definitely not have been left alone, as it would have most likely resulted in a very upset female Mountie being arrested for, like, impersonating a man, while in pursuit of a suspect suspected of doing something totally impossible, so he’d dragged Fraser to his place, practically kicking and screaming. It should have been easier with Fraser weighing about fifty pounds lighter, but because it was still Fraser, his strength hadn’t actually diminished.
So, here they were – a slightly battered cop, a pissy Canadian girl, and a confused deaf half-wolf. Two beers, some milk, and a donut.
And total fucking silence.
Ray racked his brain for anything useful to say, but kept shooting blanks. They never covered this sort of thing in sensitivity training, and he would know – he had to take the damn course twice. He couldn’t exactly tell Fraser to “embrace his inner woman” because his inner woman wasn’t so damn “inner” anymore. But what else could he say? “You may be a girl, Frase, but you’re a really hot girl”? Or, how about, “at least you weren’t ovulating when it happened”? No. Absolutely out of the question. They had to just…sit there and wait it out.
Ray picked up his third beer and took a deep pull. He felt Fraser’s disapproval coming at him in heavy waves, but he’d offered to share, and Fraser’d refused.
“You know, Ray, we are meant to be at the station very early tomorrow morning. Perhaps it’s time for us to turn in.” Fraser’s tone suggested that it was pretty much an order, but Ray was off the clock and done with taking orders.
“I’m having a beer, here, Frase. You don’t have to join me, but let me enjoy this moment, okay? It’s been a long day,” he added before he realized that, oh yeah, it really had. For both of them. Fraser was quick to remind him of it.
”I am painfully aware of that myself, Ray.” And just like that, Fraser’s voice really hit Ray, hit him right in the gut. It was unfamiliar, a girl’s voice, but it was so unmistakably Fraser and so damn sad, Ray nearly upset the beer between his fingers.
“Hey… hey, Frase, come on –” he began, not really knowing how to end that sentence. Before he could think better of it, he set down his beer and scooted closer to where Fraser was sitting, arms still crossed over his chest, the material of his Henley bunching around his breasts and making them seem fuller, and reached out to touch his – her – shoulder. “We’ll find her, all right? You’ll – you’ll be back to normal before you can say ‘period’ – I mean, I –”
Ray shut his mouth and dropped his hand. It was hard looking at Fraser – same blue eyes, but all sad and dejected. If there was one thing Ray hadn’t expected (besides the obvious), it was that Fraser really wouldn’t embrace his inner woman. He always struck him as a guy who’d just roll with the punches, no matter how weird – and where Fraser was concerned, weird seemed to follow. But, apparently, this was one weird too many, or something. Fraser was definitely pissed off and cranky and totally lost.
Ray heard a sigh and looked up, watching Fraser with some trepidation. Fraser shut his eyes (and Ray immediately wished he hadn’t because Fraser’s eyes seemed to be the only connection between the real Fraser that lurked within and this new, female, almost totally alien-yet-weirdly-familiar Fraser) and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, Ray. I know that I – I am not making this easy on you. It is simply a matter of –”
But Ray had stopped listening, because while Fraser’s eyes had been closed, Ray had suddenly noticed a small scar on his chin. It was the same scar that he had as a man, only now on this woman’s face, this woman who really could have been Fraser’s twin sister, because everything about her was familiar and yet off, just a little. The eyes still had those same crinkles around them, only they were smaller or something, less noticeable. Still the same dark eyebrows, the slightly upturned nose, the mouth that quirked upward even without a smile to help it along. When Fraser opened her mouth, Ray could see the familiar crooked tooth, teasing him. The jaw was the biggest difference, he thought, watching Fraser totally transfixed. Less heavy, rounder, more… Yeah – more feminine, of course.
Fraser’s hair was still short, and Ray reached out to touch the curling strand that hung over the wide forehead, to push it back a little, to see the whole picture.
Fraser made a beautiful woman.
Ray slid his hand down, curving around the smooth cheek, and let his thumb rest over the small scar at the base of Fraser’s face. It felt like he was holding something infinitely fragile, and like his hand had grown two sizes. Fraser’s pulse beat wildly under his touch when Ray slid his hand down lower to his neck – so much thinner now, maybe even smoother.
“Ray –” Fraser’s voice penetrated through the haze, but not enough to stop him. Ray felt the softness of Fraser’s flannel shirt against his hand, and moved just a little closer. “Ray, no – Ray… Ray… Ray!”
And then he was sprawled against the opposite side of the couch, out of breath and nearly sober, except for the haze and slight giddiness.
“Ray!” Fraser sounded pissier than ever now, and Ray tried to shake it off, tried to make sense of what had just almost happened. He rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter, trying to meet Fraser’s gaze head-on.
“Frase, I- I’m sorry. Sorry. I- oh God, sorry,” he muttered and took off into the kitchen, because what the hell had he almost done there? Kissed Fraser, that was what.
And that was – it was wrong, and it shouldn’t have happened, but – it hadn’t felt all that wrong to him. Maybe the fact that Fraser was a girl was kind of wrong, but damn, he was still Fraser.
And then Ray’s brain caught up with that and whoa, that was a whole new level of weird, because since when had he been wanting to jump actual Fraser’s bones over an imaginary female Fraser’s?
“Ray…” A light touch, but it scared the hell out of Ray and he jumped, whirling around. It was weird looking Fraser in the eye from a height difference of four inches. “Ray, I’m sorry if I frightened you,” Fraser began, her face looking so damn earnest, Ray almost laughed.
“You’re sorry? Frase, it was me, it was all – me and my dumb –” He stopped short before he said it. At least he had that much sense left. “Anyway, forget it. I’ll go get the blankets and whatnot, you – you can have the bed tonight. Okay?” He was about to beat a very hasty retreat, but Fraser stopped him.
“Ray. This is a strange situation for both of us. Ray? Ray, please look at me…”
Ray lifted his head and braced a hand on the counter. He could do this. He could listen. He just had to breathe.
“Thank you,” Fraser said quietly. “I just wanted to say – well. It is a… a highly unusual situation, and I know that our partnership has never felt truly…comfortable to you, however, I do hope that –”
Ray had heard enough. He lifted his hand to forestall any more speeches. “I got it, Frase. No more weird stuff. Dot it, file it, put it in a box marked ‘done’.” He made another move to go, but Fraser stopped him again, and damn, for a girl, he had a hard fucking grip. “What?”
“You didn’t let me finish, Ray.” Fraser was frowning at him, and again, that was so like Fraser. Ray’s head swam, and it was almost like he was seeing two Frasers right there in front of him, the girl superimposed over the guy, and it was freaking him out bigtime. He was so close to just…doing something, he really needed Fraser to get on with his freakin’ point.
“Fine. Finish,” he gritted out and took more deep breaths.
“I just… I just wanted to ask you.”
Asking was bad. Asking led to dangerous and explosive places. Ray clenched his jaw.
“Is this – is this what you want?”
It came out quietly, almost like it didn’t matter, but Ray knew better. It could have so many meanings, so many winding roads that led to scary places, Ray’s brain got lost just trying to stop at five. The idea of explaining them all to Fraser, one by one, was beyond his abilities at the moment. He swallowed and finally made himself ask back. “What do you mean by ‘this’?”
“This, this –” Fraser waved an impatient hand, taking in all of his – her – Fraser’s body. “This person here, this – me, the way –”
Ray shut his eyes and cursed. “What I mean is, it’s – goddamn it, Fraser, if only you hadn’t thought that Tirana –”
“Tirona, Ray –”
“Whatever. If only you hadn’t thought that she’d been peddling hallucinogenics to kids, and your stupid wolf hadn’t agreed, we wouldn’t be standing here, having this conversation!”
“I am aware of that as well, Ray, but I believe I asked you a question.”
Ray wanted to punch him, but the fact that Fraser was now a girl was preventing him. He knew that neither Fraser nor, like, Stella, would appreciate that particular sentiment, but he couldn’t help himself. He thought maybe it was the breasts. He’d never want to damage perfectly – round, and, and – and sizeable breasts.
“I know you asked a question, Fraser, and I – I don’t want to answer it now.”
“You don’t want to answer it now.”
“No. No, I do not.” Ray crossed his arms to further make his point.
Fraser frowned at him, and in the dim light of the kitchen, he looked almost exactly the same as he always did, just smaller. Ray sighed and tried to back away, but Fraser grabbed his bicep in a hard grip, and wasn’t letting go.
“Ray, you want…this. Here.” Fraser paused. “Me.”
“God, do we – do we have to do this now?” Ray was almost whining, but Fraser wasn’t letting up, he simply was not letting it go. Ray squirmed under the scrutiny.
“You want me.”
“Yes!” Ray exploded and finally twisted out of Fraser’s grip. “Like this! And like – like that, like… like before! There, you happy now? I want you any damn way I can get you, all right?” Ray paused. The sound of his own voice still ringing in his ears, he pulled up short. “Fuck.”
“Ray?” Fraser’s voice was so quiet now, Ray wanted to scream.
“Look what you made me say! You happy now?” Ray sagged against the fridge and hoped for a quick end.
Ray’s head snapped up. Fraser was looking at him with the stupidest little smile, all smug and happy, and it looked so much like it always did, giving his cheeks dimples and making his eyes crinkle deeper in the corners.
“You – you are?” Ray’s voice broke. But he figured that was okay, because he may have sounded like his balls hadn’t dropped yet, but Fraser had lost his completely.
Girl Fraser was as hairless as guy Fraser.
As they shed their layers, one by one, Ray could barely stop to think, and that was the first coherent thought he had in about five minutes. Fraser’s mouth was smaller now, but it was just as good at kissing Ray as Ray had imagined. Wet, hot, smooth – and Fraser’s tongue was driving Ray out of his already non-functioning mind. Ray pressed his own body closer to Fraser’s, and the feel of breasts against his chest was achingly familiar, if odd, considering the situation. Fraser, for all that he was a proper-preparation kind of guy, hadn’t been wearing a bra that day (for that rainy-day event of being turned into a woman), so that when Ray skimmed the hem of Fraser’s Henley and ran his hands up the smooth skin of his body, when his fingers sought and found Fraser’s breasts, they found them bare.
Fraser gasped, like he was surprised, and Ray couldn’t blame him, though he didn’t spare much thought for it after that. He had smooth skin under his hands, pale and soft, and he wasn’t about to waste time thinking.
No, he acted – he acted when he gripped Fraser’s waist and lifted her up to the counter, where they could kiss easier, be on the same level; he nearly lost it when strong arms wound around his neck and he was pulled back into Fraser’s warm, firm mouth. Fraser was seeking him out, seeking him out the same way Ray was seeking him, and he went right to him. He pressed their bodies together, pulled Fraser so close, Ray was standing between his legs. He got even closer and – yeah, oh yeah – Fraser gasped, shuddering.
Ray might not have gotten laid in what felt like years, but he still remembered a few things.
“I got you, Fraser. I got you,” he mumbled into the warm mouth, kissed it deeper. Fraser’s legs wrapped around his hips so hard, there couldn’t have been any air between their bodies, apart from the spaces where curves could not reach. Ray had to get more skin, had to actually get rid of the damn Henley, and see Fraser. “Here, let me -” He began lifting the Henley off, and Fraser helped him, mumbling things like “yes” and “please” and “now” into Ray’s neck and against his ear.
Fraser’s jeans sat low on his hips, but it wasn’t because his hips had gone slim. No, they weren’t slim at all, and Ray couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful curve of them, graceful and generous.
“Of course you’d be a knock-out, Jesus,” he whispered, not even thinking, and tugged Fraser closer. A very light down covered the skin of his hips and belly – so soft, so damn smooth. Ray barely heard Fraser’s intake of breath when he leaned down and gently took one of Fraser’s (beautiful, heavy) breasts in his mouth. He sucked on the nipple, tweaked it with his tongue. Fraser moaned, and his voice was so husky, Ray could almost – almost imagine, but no – no, this was Fraser right now, and no imagining.
This was Fraser, letting him suck on his nipple, cradling Ray’s head between his hands, gasping into the air. This was Fraser, pulling Ray up, looking him in the eye and kissing him without breaking eye contact. This was Fraser, and Ray was unbuttoning the jeans and lifting the strong body so he could slide them, along with the inexplicable starched boxers, off, and then, that was Fraser.
Ray wasn’t asking for permission anymore. He pulled Fraser’s bare hips to the very edge of the counter and gripped them hard as he slid down to his knees.
Once he was on the level he wanted to be at, he took his time. He took all the time he could get.
Fraser’s scent was sharp, musky, and not at all like Ray had thought about, all those dumb lonely nights. Ray breathed in, kissed the smooth thighs. They were muscular, but softer now, as if Fraser had grown subcutaneous fat in different places. They were very good places. Ray let his mouth wander, licking gentle stripes in the curve and fold of the hip, the beginning of Fraser’s pussy.
(He let his mind slide right over that, and moved on.)
He licked down the side, lifted Fraser’s leg to mouth the softness underneath. Fraser shifted and Ray saw that he had braced himself on his arms, leaning back, letting Ray in. Ray grinned. Yeah, Fraser was ready for it, he wanted it, wanted it just as bad as Ray did. Sharp, focused gasps reached Ray’s ears, then shallow breathing, then slow, deep moans. Fraser wasn’t saying a word, but he didn’t have to. Ray could do it for him.
His tongue traced words against the soft part of Fraser, traced letters and symbols on the skin, then inside, echoed them against the maddening heat. Fraser whimpered, the voice high now, and needy. Ray closed his eyes and hummed against Fraser, feeling every tremor that passed through Fraser’s body, every single quiver.
Yeah, he had him. He had him and he was only getting started. Ray lifted his head to meet Fraser’s gaze and grinned. “Hey,” he whispered and Fraser bit his lip and gently nudged Ray’s head forward, not even bothering to answer. Ray could go with that.
And he did. He found the clit, licked it until Fraser could barely breathe between gasps, then took it in his mouth and sucked it gently. Fraser gasped and then a few moments later, he was shaking against Ray, convulsing, all of him moving like a wave, ripple after ripple after ripple, and Ray didn’t let go until Fraser put a hand on his head and slowly pushed him away.
Ray licked his lips, wiped his chin on the sleeve of his t-shirt, and breathed in very, very deeply. Fraser’s taste and scent were all over him, wrapped around him, and yeah – he was just getting started.
“Ray, God, Ray, come – come up here, please –”
And Ray went, pulling himself flush against Fraser. He wanted so much, and he didn’t know if it was too much, but if it wasn’t too much…
“I wanna fuck you, Fraser… I wanna fuck you so much right now –”
“Yes, yes, God, yes, Ray –”
Ray was a pretty strong guy, and Fraser was a relatively average-sized woman, so it took only a bit of huffing and puffing to lift him up and carry him to the bedroom.
“You’re showing off, aren’t you, Ray?” Fraser asked when they passed the living room couch.
“Shut up and be a good girl,” Ray answered and got smacked for his troubles. But that was all right, because he was showing off, and they both knew he was doing a damn fine job of it.
Then he threw Fraser on the bed, and watched, mesmerized, as Fraser lay back against his rumpled sheets and looked at him with those blue eyes. Fraser. Ray quickly threw off the rest of his clothes.
“Ray…you have…protection, yes?” Fraser asked and Ray just rolled his eyes in response. He was a guy, wasn’t he? What guy didn’t keep condoms in every available hidey-hole, just in case of an earth-shattering event? He retrieved the condoms from his bedside table and almost reached for the lube, but then glanced at Fraser – red cheeks, mussed hair, panting mouth – and sent him a grin.
“Won’t be needing that.”
“No,” Fraser agreed and pulled Ray into her arms. Ray was almost giddy to discover that Fraser was still Fraser, and, much like with his lack of bra, he hadn’t thought to shave under his arms that day.
“Fraser,” Ray whispered against his mouth, slid his hand between Fraser’s legs. “You make a great woman.”
“Shut up and take me, Ray.”
The afterglow was still shivering through him when Fraser reached out and touched Ray’s chest.
Ray turned his head and covered Fraser’s small hand with his own. “Yeah?”
“I’m not quite sure how to – that is, I will understand if – well. Hmm.”
Ray frowned, watching Fraser’s face in the shadows. The grey darkness covering them was almost enough to morph the line between man and woman on Fraser’s face, and Ray thought he was getting used to it. He thought that he kind of liked it.
“Spit it out, Frase.”
“If we do not catch Tirona, and I am forced to…remain this way, I was wondering if –”
“In case you couldn’t tell, I do swing you both ways, Fraser.”
Ray turned to face him – her; he probably had to get used to that – fully and scooted closer.
“That is good to know, Ray.” Fraser scooted closer, too, until they were lying face to face, sharing a pillow. “So, in case we are successful in apprehending the perpetrator and I am returned –“
“Fraser, you are just not listening to me,” Ray interrupted. “Both ways. Either way. I want you, all right?”
“All right, Ray,” Fraser agreed easily and closed her eyes. Ray watched her face until he heard her breathing even out. He slowly slid an arm under her neck, settled onto his back, and slept.
Ray woke up to the realization that he couldn’t feel his arm. Not one little bit. It was as if some evil trolls had come in the night, fed him Percocets, and sawed the damn thing off. His next realization was that Fraser was all over him, covering him shoulder to toes. He connected the dots and began to extricate himself from under the weight. Christ, and what a weight – she hadn’t seemed so damn heavy last night, when he was –
It hit Ray like a bucket of ice-cold water in the face.
“Mmmf,” came the answer, and Ray kicked him a little in the shins. “Ray!”
Fraser was sitting up in less than .04 seconds, which was a lot longer than it took for Ray to realize that he’d been cuddling with a man half the night. “Oh…oh my.” Fraser – male Fraser, Fraser like he had always been, only so very different now – looked down his body, ran a quick hand over all the necessary bits (and lack-there-ofs) and scooted back. “Ray.”
“I, hmm. I appear to have regained my regular form.”
Ray looked at him. Still hairless, but broad now, and very much male. Very much male. It was hard hiding morning wood even under a sheet. Ray grinned. “I think you’re right, Frase.”
Fraser let out a small breath. “Indeed.” He narrowed his eyes a little and looked at Ray very carefully, the tip of his tongue darting out to his lip. Ray watched him blandly back. He’d meant every word of what he’d said the night before. He tested the waters in his own mind – tried to see if he missed the girl from a few hours ago – and came up with the answer that Fraser was looking for.
“Come here,” he said, and Fraser went. “Let’s check out this new equipment, huh?”
“That sounds like a fine idea, Ray,” Fraser breathed when Ray’s hand skimmed over his (firm, hard) ass.
“I know. I’m a fine idea kinda guy.”
“Don’t forget the lubricant. We might be needing that.”