Medley

Disclaimer applies to all chapter
Title: Medley
Author: Scribe
Fandom: Due South/The Sentinel
Summary: When Mountie Benton Fraser and Stanley Kowalski get stranded in Cascade while trying to extradite a prisoner, Jim and Blair offer them 'hospitality'.
Rating: Fan rated adult only
Pairings: Jim/Stanley, Blair/Fraser, Fraser/Stanley, Jim/Stanley/Blair/Fraser, Fraser/Stanley/Rafe
Characters: Jim Ellison, Blair Sandburg, Stanley Kowalski, Benton Fraser, OMC, and minor characters from The Sentinel
Betas: None
Notes: Second in my Swingers Series
Disclaimer: I did not create, and do not own the rights to, the recognizable media characters that appear in this story.
I have no legal or bindingagreement with the creators, or owners.
I do not seek, and would not accept,profit from this fiction.
I have nothing but affection and respect for the creators, and the actors and actresses who portrayed these characters.
This story is in no way meant to reflect on the actual lives or life styles of the actors and actresses who portrayed the characters
All original characters are copyrighted by the author. Do NOT use without specific permission
Warning:
Medley
by Scribe

medley(plural medleys) noun 1.music: musical sequence of different songs: a continuous piece of music consisting of two or more different tunes or songs played one after the other 2. mixture of things: a mixture or assortment of various things

Did You Ever See a Dream Walk

"Jim?"

Ellison didn't look up from the paperwork spread on his desk. "Yeah, Chief?"

Blair was peering out the window, into the street below. As usual, his part of the paperwork was done, and done well. All those years of writing papers at the university had paid off. "Jim, am I asleep right now?"

This got Jim to look up. His partner, Guide, and lover, despite his puckish nature, usually made more sense than this. "Not that I can seelessless this morning has been one bastard of a sleep walk. Why do you ask?"

"I thought maybe I was asleep and having a wet dream."

All right, this was interesting. Jim put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. "So, what's happening?"

He was staring raptly at something down in the street. "Well, not a hell of a lot right now. But I can hope."

"Blair."

"There's a Mountie helping an old lady across the street."

Jim was silent for a moment. Then he said slowly, "Chief, I warned you that someday that health food store was gonna slip something funny into your herbal tea blend."

"No, Jim, I'm not kidding you. There's a Mountie out there. Red tunic, jodhpurs, Smokey the Bear hat, Sam Brown belt, hot as hell black boots and all."

Jim got up, going to the window. "This I gotta see."

"Too late. He just came in the building."

A little miffed, Jim put his hand on Blair's shoulder, peering over. No, no Mountie. That didn't mean there wasn't anything, or rather anyone, interesting out there. "Okay, Chief, are wet dreams catching?" He was staring at the man who'd just gotten out of a taxi on the other side of the street.

He looked about Blair's height, maybe a little more slender, but in a wiry way. He was wearing what was probably the single most hideous shirt Jim had ever seen. He felt like dialing down his vision, the colors were so insulting. But it worked for him.

He crossed the street with a gate that was somewhere between a glide and a strut, and disappeared into the front of the building. "That was choice."

"Yeah, he's nice. But you didn't see my Mountie."

"Oh, your Mountie, huh?"

"Well, I'd share, if I got him. You know that. But I gotta tell you, Jim, he looks awful top to me. And you just haven't been in a bottom sort of mood lately."

"And this bothers you?"

"As if."

"Wonder what a Mountie is doing this side of the border?"

"No telling. D'ya think he'll hang around the station long enough for me to get another good leer at him? I'd like a little more fantasy fodder."

"You could always go downstairs in search of, um, supplies? Maybe the copier on our floor quit working?"

"I love you, Ellison, but you come up with the lamest excuses of anyone I've ever known."

"Oh, like you can do better?"

"How about a fund run for the Cops 'n Kids program? We're due. And it would actually do some good, besides letting me go Mountie stalking."

"All right for you. But that doesn't get me downstairs to look for my object of unrequited lust." Jim tilted his head. "Okay, enough drooling. Company's coming." They resumed their desks.

The door opened, and was promptly filled by approximately six feet of red serge clad Canuck.

Jim blinked. Wow, no wonder Blair was slavering.
His Stetson was neatly tucked under his arm, and his brown hair gleamed under the florescents. Eyes the color of a Canadian sky in spring swept the room quickly, settling on Jim. He obviously decided that Jim was senior officer, and spoke politely, just enough accent coloring his voice to give it an added thrill. "Excuse me, but I am looking for Mr. Simon Banks."

Blair bounced out of his chair. "He's in his office. Come on, I'll take you in." Which was absolutely necessary, of course, since the office was all of a dozen steps away. Eh, I can't blame the kid. That is one luscious hunk of Canadian bacon. Still, Blair was right. He was probably a top, if he was gay at all. He looked about as butch as it was possible to get.

"That would be most kind of you." He extended a hand, and Blair shook with his usual enthusiasm. "I am Constable Benton Fraser."

"Detective Blair Sandburg. And that's my partner, Detective Jim Ellison." Fraser nodded, and Jim waved.

"Oh, good. Just the two gentlemen we need to see."

Jim felt his eyebrows lift. Well, that was going to make Blair happy. As he thought that, a slightly annoyed voice out in the corridor said, "Fraze, are you gonna move your butt, or do I stay out here in the hall for the entire visit?"

"Oh, dear. Excuse me." He stepped into the room. Blair nobly restrained himself from rubbing up against him, for the time being.

Wet Dream-Jim's Version, sauntered through the door. He'd been completely hidden by his companion. "Bout time, Fraze. I was starting to get funny looks out there. I think they figured I was a detainee trying to pull something." He put his hands on his hips, glancing between Jim and Blair. "Hiya." Jim and Blair answered automatically. He glanced up at Fraiser."So? Do the Miss Manners bit."

"Ray, these are Detectives Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg. Detectives, this is my partner, Detective Raymond Stanley Vecchio."

"Call me Stanley." He shook hands with Jim and Blair.

Jim tried not to stare. Here I thought I was attracted to the intellectual type. I guess street smart can do it for me, too. Maybe it wasn't so unusual that he felt an instant attraction to the smaller man. He exuded a sort of kinetic energy that reminded Jim a bit of Blair.

"Your partner doesn't call you Stanley," Blair observed.

Vecchio gave Blair a bland look. "Well, yeah, but he's weird. Nice, but weird.
"
"How so?" Jim eyed the Mountie. Actually, Benton's physical perfection was almost disconcerting.

"Well, for one thing, he has a wolf."

"A wolf?" That got Blair's attention. He claimed that, if reincarnation was true, he had either been a wolf in his last life, or was going to be one in his next `If I'm really, really good.'

"Diefenbacher." Benton clarified, looking as if this merited no further comment.

"And he licks things." Stanley continued.

"Pardon me?" Jim watched Blair shift nervously, and knew exactly what he was imagining the big Mountie licking.

"Taste can be an important investigation tool." Fraser explained, straight faced. He meant this, he wasn't joking. "Of course, one must develop it, and Stanley does not see its efficacy."

Blair is going to swoon at any minute. Big, built, sexy, polite, and can use words like `efficacy'. Jim smiled. "Actually, you're right. It can be used effectively. All the senses should be utilized when you examine a scene, or evidence."

Fraser looked at his companion. "You see, Ray? Modern technology is a wonderful thing, but we must not discount the natural methods."

"Yeah, Fraze, same song, second verse. Look, we ought to get down to business. There could be some screw up, there usually is, and we haven't got all that much time before our flight out leaves. I'm Chicago PD, and they booked us a return flight for about six hours from now. Welch didn't feel like letting the department spring for a room, so we get to do a turn around."

"Detectives, " Fraser volunteered. "We are here to relieve you of one of your miscreants."

"Translated: We got extradition papers on one of your perps."

"Okay, that explains why you're here." Jim eyed Benton's red serge. Damn, he must spend hours on those brass buttons. "It doesn't explain why the RCMP are in on this."

"This concerns both the American and Canadian legal systems, and I am liaifor for the Canadian consulate in Chicago. Raymond and I work very closely."

"So, which of our bad boys are you after?" Blair asked.

"Solomon Tyson, AKA Solly the Sneak, soon to be known as Solly the Snitch. If he lives that long." Stanley ran a hand through already spiky blonde hair.

"Tyson... Tyson..." Jim looked questioningly at Blair.

"About a week ago, Big Guy. It was a pretty minor thing, so that's probably why it didn't stick in your mind." Blair looked back at Benton. "It was an accidental bust, really. I'm waiting at a taco stand while Jim here gets his daily dose of sodium and artery filler..." Benton nodded, and looked pointedly at Stanley, who whistled and stared at the ceiling, "and this guy comes up and wants to buy a lid of grass off me. Turns out someone had told him that a dealer hung out there. He took one look at this..." Blair flipped his hair, "and just assumed I was it. Easiest bust we've ever made."

"An indication that marijuana does, indeed, kill brain cells." Benton observed.

"But what interests you guys in a simple grass buyer? Unless there's more to Solly than meets the eye?" Blair was concentrating on Fraser Jim decided that it was only fair to Stanley if he gave him equal attention, so he moved a little closer.

"Very astute, Detective Sandburg."

"Blair and Jim."

"Thank you kindly. Please call me Benton." He hesitated, his voice almost shy. "Or Benny, if you like." He glanced pointedly at Vecchio, who sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, first names all around. I'll add you guys to my Christmas card list for getting Solly for us. We've been after his ass for months, but he just dropped out of sight. Look, you guys should hear this, but we need to talk to Banks, too. Why don't we save breath and tell all of you at once?"

"Sure!" Blair put his hand on the small of Benton's back, guiding him toward the inner office. "Right this way."

Careful, Blair. Don't slip and grab his ass. Not in the office, anyway. Jim watched Blair affectionately. He hadn't seen his lover this instantly lust struck since that FBI agent, Fox Mulder.

Stanley jerked his head after the couple, lifting his eyebrows at Jim. "Well, shall we?"

As Jim followed the small, but undeniably perfect, ass, he thought, Oh, I hope so. I certainly hope so.