Hetsmut ensues, with a bit of slash thrown in just because.

This is for Lee with thanks to Julad and Derora for the beta.

Down the Rabbit Hole
Have you ever read Alice in Wonderland?  Me either, but I did rent the movie last week after what happened.  The ditties are kinda catchy and Alice is a babe, if you like the blonde schoolgirl look.  It's a lot of drink me, eat me, hookah smokin' worms, and Cheshire wolfs. Hey, Lewis had his version, I have mine.  So, let's pretend that I'm the teacher and you're Alice and, like Fraser said, I'll tell you a story about falling down the rabbit hole.

I was lying around the apartment last Friday afternoon; I'd cleaned my gun, napped, watched a bit of the tube, and talked to Fraser.  Francesca was at the Consulate showing Turnbull how to make some unpronounceable pasta dish and I'd been invited. That loony Mountie had got some special mushrooms that he just had to try.  Now, I've had Turnbull's cooking and it's not bad for him being such a flake and all, but I wasn't that hot to spend an evening watching Francesca throw herself at my partner.  No thank you kindly, as they say.

So, I'm watching some wrestling, not feeling sorry for myself, and I get a craving for pizza.  There's a delivery place across town that has to give you the pizza free if they're longer than 30 minutes.  Their number was in Vecchio's card file, and you just can't beat the price.  So, I pick up the phone but there's no dial tone.  Still nothing after clicking on the button a few times.  There's some sort of noise in the background and it dawns on me that Fraser never disconnected his end of the line & I'm still hooked up to the consulate.  I yell Fraser's name - like he's gonna hear it - but hey, he is a Mountie.  After a few minutes I hear some wet snuffling.  Dief noise.  He ain't gonna hear me yelling, but what the hell.  After a few more wet breaths into the phone he knocks it over and his nails go clicking across the wooden floor, until he's gone.

I'm cursing the deaf wolf and thinking about what I have to eat in my fridge when I hear something again.  This time it's definitely human. In between my new shouts I actually hear my name, faint and breathy, in Fraser's voice. Kinda questioningly, like.  My heart starts to pound and the adrenaline is kicking into overdrive.  What if he's hurt? What if he can't get to the phone because he's injured?  I'm already in the car before I realize that I've left the apartment.

It takes me seven minutes to get the consulate. Seven minutes to think about what could have brought the Mountie down and should I call for backup and seven minutes is too long and he's gonna be dead and I'm there.  I take the stairs two at a time and burst through the doors at a run, gun drawn. Nothing stirs, not even a mouse.  The Dragon Lady is gone for the weekend but Turnbull should be at his desk, doing whatever it is that he does, but he ain't.  Maybe he's in the kitchen, but I don't know where the hell that is.  There's a faint noise coming from the second floor and I'm so on it that I practically fly up the stairs.

A quick scan of the hallway shows nothing moving but now I can hear low voices coming from what Turnbull calls the 'Queen's' room.  The door is cracked and I move in silently, peering through the slit to see... Fraser and Frannie on the bed, feeding each other pasta out of a bowl!?  Turnbull makes a turn past the door, brandishing a feather duster.

I'm so pissed that I kick open the door, the bang when it hits the wall making them all jump like girls.  Well, Turnbull jumped like a girl and shrieked.  Fraser and Frannie just looked at me and smiled.  Real dopey like.

Yelling at Fraser, I walk over to the phone lying on the floor.  I stand and yell some more when I get there.  Frannie starts to cry and I think Turnbull is trying to get the black mark from the doorknob off the wall.  Even Fraser is acting all weird, pushing their big bowl of food at me, waving a forkful of spaghetti at me.  Nobody seems concerned that I'm angry, so I open my mouth to let loose again, but Fraser sticks the fork in, damn near choking me.

I'm chewing, getting ready to kick some heads, but the stuff is actually pretty good.  Tasty.  I swallow it down and Fraser's there with another forkful, ever the helpful one.  Pretty soon we're all on the bed, sharing the big bowl of pasta, giggling as we watch Turnbull trying to keep the sauce off the bedspread.

My brain is real fuzzy but crystal clear at the same time.  I swear that I can actually see the color of the air.  Fraser's red serge is screaming to me in another language and Dief looks at me and says hello.  Whoa.  I'm thinking that this ain't right, but when I say "what?" he just sits there and grins.

Somebody, maybe even me, says something to somebody else and we're nude. Magic works that way I guess.  I suspect Dief did it, cause he's still grinning in the corner, but I can't get him to talk anymore. He can be such a shit.

Frannie's all stretched out on the bed (minus the pasta) soft and tan. Fraser's looking at her like a starving bear that just found a caribou with a broken leg, except instead of being all soft and tan, he's big and hard and pale.  Turnbull undressed but put the apron back on.  For one moment, it seems okay that way.  Stands to reason you just can't clean in the buff.

Frannie's begging for a kiss so I crawl on the bed and comply since Fraser's teaching me to be a gentleman and all.  Her mouth is all hot and sweet and it's hard to let it go, but I got my eye on other things and start working my way down.  There's already a black-haired head nursing at one breast so I take the other.  You gotta love the design plan there; no need for two, but God must have known a good thing when he made it.

My hand keeps running into Fraser's as it's stroking up and down so we just entwine fingers and work together, like partners should.  She's slick and we slide around, dipping into her, flicking and squeezing; making her pant all the harder.  Fraser pulls our hands up and suddenly my fingers are in his mouth, being washed.  His tongue is agile, wrapping itself around my fingers like a snake.  When they're clean, he gives my palm a long, wet lick before letting go.  If I thought my dick was hard before, I could hammer nails now.

Frannie's making little mewling noise about being ignored so I slide on down, settling between her legs for a long stay.  Fraser's watching me with those inquisitive blue eyes, which makes me wonder if he's ever done this sort of thing before.  Probably not, him being Dudley-Do-Right and all, but that's okay, I can teach him how.  His tongue has a natural talent after all.  I push her thighs further apart and tell him to come around to the business end of things, where he settles right in, all hard muscles and hot skin burning me.  A quick brush across my shoulders with a feather duster tells me that Turnbull is still cleaning.

Now, there's finesse to this sort of thing you know, you can't just dive right in.  It lacks romance.  So, I start at her knee with gentle little kisses and work my way in; after a second I can hear Fraser doing the same but then Frannie starts tweaking on her little brown nipples.  Dudley's easily distracted with the view, which is fine, cause it leaves me with a wide-open field to play with.  She's all musky and wet and damn, she even tastes Italian.  Her fingers are gripping my hair now, so Fraser's lost his show, but hey, he's willing to move on.

His cheek is pressed hard against mine and he's helping me, Mountie-polite; holding her open, pressing and stroking, running a helpful finger up and down when I pause to take a breath.  Before long he's burrowed in with me, working magic of his own, coaxing the spread thighs to go even further. Frannie's making a high little noise with her hips thrusting and her hands pushing us away before pulling us back.  Fraser's tongue is dueling with mine over the tiny knot and it's like we're almost kissing, tasting each other beneath Frannie's musk.

I wanna stay there forever, nuzzled to the warm body next to me, teasing the one underneath me but my dick has other plans.  It's jumping around, drooling like an idiot and I can't wait any longer.  I shoulder Fraser out the way cause he's too Canadian to protest and slither up.  I slide on in without hesitation, arching my back cause she feels so tight.

She's bucking like a bronco and it's hard to stay saddled so I roll us over and let her ride.   Fraser's kneeling at our side, stroking himself, but Frannie wants to be helpful and takes him in her hands.   Being so polite, he tries to return the favor, but she's moving around too much and he decides that he can make do with a handful of tit.  I almost feel left out until he uses his other hand to grab my nipple.  Man, the things a Mountie can do.  Turnbull tickles the other one briefly with the feather duster, before moving to straighten the covers beneath us.

We're sweating and pumping and gasping like we're in a marathon and I'm almost at the finish line when Frannie kinda arches her back and slams down on me with a shrill little shriek and she is gone.  Her muscles clench around me like a vise and it makes me come.  I think for a moment that I can actually feel my spine shooting into her through my dick.  She falls over with a tiny moan and I let her go.  I just wanna go to sleep.

Then there's this frustrated little moan - nobody's taking care of the Mountie.  Frannie lost her grip and he's taken matters into his own hands. His face is starting to turn red and that huge chest is getting blotchy, he's so close.  Just to be friendly, (since he did do the nipple thing) I reach out and give his balls a good squeeze and pull, scraping my fingernail against that skin right behind them.  Ben gives this surprised jerk and a shout; shooting spunk across my belly and hitting Francesca's hips.  By the time he stops we're both covered in the sticky goo.

Breathing like an ox, he's laying next to me suddenly, looking at me with drowsy eyes.  Frannie's curled up on my other side, mumbling in her sleep. My head feels like it's spinning out of control and it's so quiet and Turnbull is humming while he dusts and I'm slipping into slumberland...

A cool touch on my forehead makes me open my eyes and Turnbull fills my vision.  My head is pounding like a hobo in a drunk tank is banging on the inside and my stomach is filled with crawling bugs.  The sun is shining through the curtains and I can smell coffee.  Fraser is across the room, tidy and neat, lookin' all Mountie-like.

Turnbull is wiping my face with a damp cloth, making these shushing noises, then begging my pardon for waking me up.  There's a spray of something icy on my belly, a familiar smell, and then the cloth is back, rubbing at the dried flakes on my chest.  I'm not sure, but I think that Turnbull has just cleaned me off with Windex.  It's just too much effort to get up and kick him in the head.

There's a warm body pressed against my back and it's comfortable, so I'm just gonna head back to dreamland.  I can almost hear Fraser talking in the distance.

"Turnbull, what exactly do you mean when you say you bought the 'shrooms' from a man in an alley?"

********************************************************


Well, here it is, Friday night - and once again I've cleaned my gun, taken a nap, and I'm watching the tube.  Only this time, Frannie's in the kitchen whipping up something for dinner (minus the hallucinogenic fungi) and Fraser's just getting out of the shower (he's still big and hard and pale). Turnbull has a late shift but he'll be by later to tidy up (he's bringing the apron).  Dief is still smiling at me.

Yeah, Alice may have fallen down the rabbit hole into Wonderland, but she ain't got nothing over me.

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Disclaimer: These characters belong to Alliance and the author makes no claims upon them - no copyright infrigement is intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only and there is no monetary gain.