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foxyfursTitle: A Canadian Walks Into a Bar
Rating: NC17 (though not this part)
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Disclaimer: I haven't written in ages. This is for fun, and exercise, and I probably couldn't make money off it if I tried.
Author's Note: Okay, so. This is my first fic in Quite Some Time. (No, comment fic is not the same.) This was spur-of-the-moment, is unbeta'd, and currently isn't even finished completely, as it's eight hours past my bedtime and omg I need to sleep nao. I beg you to bear with me while I figure out this whole 'Posting-Long-Things' thing.
Tony Aariak poked his head around the door frame and hollered. “Hey, Kowalski!”
Ray raised his beer bottle in a semi-salute and hollered right back. “Hey, Tony!” He lengthened the first word, kinda like the Fonze, which in Ray’s opinion completely suited the style he had going tonight. Hair gelled up, shit-kicker boots, sorta-new leather jacket he’d found for a steal a couple weeks back. His jeans were comfortable and his muscles were loose with the two beers he’d had. Tonight was good. Tonight was greatness. Tonight there was A Plan. All in all, Ray was feeling kind of awesome.
Until Tony, instead of coming in and sitting down and knocking a few back with him, jerked his head back towards the door. “You’d better get out here, man. Your partner’s about had it.”
Outside, Ray just has to hear Fraser’s cheerful “Ray!” to know that had it is right. Fraser was propped bonelessly up against Tony’s tailgate, and his shirt had come untucked. His hair was mussed. His hat was missing. Oh dear God, his hat is missing! At Ray’s stunned “Fraser?!” he looked up and grinned big enough, bright enough – oh, wow, holy shit – to light up a city block as he shoved off away from the truck and wobbled dangerously on his legs. Ray leapt to catch him, grunting as all of Fraser’s weight pulled him stumbling forward.
“Have you been --? Are you actually--? Where’s your hat? God, Frase, what’ve you been doing?” Fraser eeled around in his arms, trying to face Ray and nearly toppling them both down onto the pavement.
“I had tea with Mrs. Forsythe! Oh, Ray, you know how I said she was getting a little strange in her twilight years? I was absolutely, completely, irrevocably wrong. I take it all back. Everything. She’s actually got a very unique and interesting way of looking at the world. Why, the societal changes alone that she’s been advocating are—“
“Wait, this is the lady who protested at the skeet shoot for the fair?” Hanging on to Fraser was harder than it looked, the man limp and all-but-dead weight even as he beamed happily into Ray’s face.
“It was understandable, Ray. She has valid points, and after I explained very firmly about the sabotage—“
Ray slung one of Fraser’s arms over his shoulders. “This is the same gal who’s sixty-four and drives a Humvee? Who just renewed the gun license for a revolver?”
“And the one who orders her ‘special brand’ of tea from Harold Mills over in Creekfront,” Tony murmured. He was laughing, the sick bastard, as Ray tried to steer an uncoordinated Mountie toward the door to the bar.
At that, though, Ray stopped dead. “You’re kidding me.”
Fraser’s look had gone thoughtful. “It was indeed a rather strange taste, Ray, but quite lovely. The incense she uses in the house is very strong, and I couldn’t quite make out what blend-- oh.” His eyes got wide and startled, his mouth dropping into a nearly-perfect O. “Oh, dear. Did she --? Ray, did I just get --?”
Tony’s eyes are twinkling as he retrieves Fraser’s hat from the dash and the guy’s biting his lips on the world’s biggest grin and Ray is reminding himself that Tony’s a skinny fucker and it wouldn’t be fair to beat him into keeping his mouth shut. The last thing Fraser needs in this town is his authority undermined like that in front of the locals. Oh Christ, Ray almost took Fraser into the bar! He could almost see the headlines in the morning paper if Ray had just walked his buddy another fifteen feet in through the door. Local LEO Laid Back: Surprises Everyone! Oh Jesus, this was not how tonight was supposed to go, dammit.
Rating: NC17 (though not this part)
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Disclaimer: I haven't written in ages. This is for fun, and exercise, and I probably couldn't make money off it if I tried.
Author's Note: Okay, so. This is my first fic in Quite Some Time. (No, comment fic is not the same.) This was spur-of-the-moment, is unbeta'd, and currently isn't even finished completely, as it's eight hours past my bedtime and omg I need to sleep nao. I beg you to bear with me while I figure out this whole 'Posting-Long-Things' thing.
Tony Aariak poked his head around the door frame and hollered. “Hey, Kowalski!”
Ray raised his beer bottle in a semi-salute and hollered right back. “Hey, Tony!” He lengthened the first word, kinda like the Fonze, which in Ray’s opinion completely suited the style he had going tonight. Hair gelled up, shit-kicker boots, sorta-new leather jacket he’d found for a steal a couple weeks back. His jeans were comfortable and his muscles were loose with the two beers he’d had. Tonight was good. Tonight was greatness. Tonight there was A Plan. All in all, Ray was feeling kind of awesome.
Until Tony, instead of coming in and sitting down and knocking a few back with him, jerked his head back towards the door. “You’d better get out here, man. Your partner’s about had it.”
Outside, Ray just has to hear Fraser’s cheerful “Ray!” to know that had it is right. Fraser was propped bonelessly up against Tony’s tailgate, and his shirt had come untucked. His hair was mussed. His hat was missing. Oh dear God, his hat is missing! At Ray’s stunned “Fraser?!” he looked up and grinned big enough, bright enough – oh, wow, holy shit – to light up a city block as he shoved off away from the truck and wobbled dangerously on his legs. Ray leapt to catch him, grunting as all of Fraser’s weight pulled him stumbling forward.
“Have you been --? Are you actually--? Where’s your hat? God, Frase, what’ve you been doing?” Fraser eeled around in his arms, trying to face Ray and nearly toppling them both down onto the pavement.
“I had tea with Mrs. Forsythe! Oh, Ray, you know how I said she was getting a little strange in her twilight years? I was absolutely, completely, irrevocably wrong. I take it all back. Everything. She’s actually got a very unique and interesting way of looking at the world. Why, the societal changes alone that she’s been advocating are—“
“Wait, this is the lady who protested at the skeet shoot for the fair?” Hanging on to Fraser was harder than it looked, the man limp and all-but-dead weight even as he beamed happily into Ray’s face.
“It was understandable, Ray. She has valid points, and after I explained very firmly about the sabotage—“
Ray slung one of Fraser’s arms over his shoulders. “This is the same gal who’s sixty-four and drives a Humvee? Who just renewed the gun license for a revolver?”
“And the one who orders her ‘special brand’ of tea from Harold Mills over in Creekfront,” Tony murmured. He was laughing, the sick bastard, as Ray tried to steer an uncoordinated Mountie toward the door to the bar.
At that, though, Ray stopped dead. “You’re kidding me.”
Fraser’s look had gone thoughtful. “It was indeed a rather strange taste, Ray, but quite lovely. The incense she uses in the house is very strong, and I couldn’t quite make out what blend-- oh.” His eyes got wide and startled, his mouth dropping into a nearly-perfect O. “Oh, dear. Did she --? Ray, did I just get --?”
Tony’s eyes are twinkling as he retrieves Fraser’s hat from the dash and the guy’s biting his lips on the world’s biggest grin and Ray is reminding himself that Tony’s a skinny fucker and it wouldn’t be fair to beat him into keeping his mouth shut. The last thing Fraser needs in this town is his authority undermined like that in front of the locals. Oh Christ, Ray almost took Fraser into the bar! He could almost see the headlines in the morning paper if Ray had just walked his buddy another fifteen feet in through the door. Local LEO Laid Back: Surprises Everyone! Oh Jesus, this was not how tonight was supposed to go, dammit.
