Apparently living on a tropical island with less than two hundred and fifty inhabitants in the middle of God knows where  wasn't remote enough for Fraser, which was why Ray now found himself rolling out a mat on the forest floor and staring at his bed for the night.

After all the mania that came with the sky falling down, he had been glad, and downright grateful, when Fraser had suggested they get away for a bit. Everyone was taken care of now, so they were easily spared and Ray had had blissful dreams of borrowing a boat and doing some fishing with beers, or visiting the second island just in case someone had built a five star luxury hotel since the last time he'd been there.

He should have known the Mountie would have other ideas. Diefenbaker's whining should have given it away; the darkening eyes and flattened ears that had peered up at him like Ray had just sentenced him to a night of horror too. Which he had, but the wolf didn't look particularly horrified right now, scampering beneath Ray's duvet and warming his muzzle between a couple of plumped pillows.

"Get your own," Ray griped, tugging at the end of the duvet like a parent would do to a lazy child on a school morning. Dief grumbled when he was left uncovered and growled lowly when Ray went to remove the pillows. "They're hypoallergenic for a reason!"