starfishchick (starfishchick) wrote in axial_tilt, @ 2008-03-17 13:33:00 |
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Current mood: | happy |
Fic: The Grass is Riz -- Due South, Fraser/RayK
Title of fic: The Grass is Riz
Author name: starfishchick
Fandom: due South
Pairing (if applicable): Fraser/RayK
Rating: PG
Summary: Something's up with Fraser, and Ray's going to figure out what it is.
Author's Notes: For hullabaloo! With thanks to marginalia for enthusiasm and beta, and to dorrie6 for putting this challenge together.
Monday
One morning in mid-March, Ray picked Fraser up at the Consulate and noticed something different about him. As Fraser and Dief walked toward the car, Fraser seemed his usual cheerful - and therefore irritating - morning self, but there was something more to it than that. As they pulled away from the curb and headed toward the station, Ray saw that Fraser's head was bobbing. This was in complete contrast to his usual strict posture.
Ray considered asking Fraser what was going on, but then decided against it. He was a detective, right? He'd figure it out.
Headbobbing. OK.
Tuesday
The next day brought more headbobbing, and Ray tried to sneak sideways glances at Fraser and determine a pattern. He couldn't find one.
"What's up, Fraser?" said Ray, as Fraser climbed into the GTO.
"Well, Ray, I thought we could follow-up with the witness interviews from the string of cheese store robberies, and then--"
"No, Fraser, I mean," Ray paused. "Never mind. Cheese store robberies. OK. What else?"
Fraser tilted his head to one side, cracking his neck, and said "Could you please pull over at this corner, Ray?"
Ray pulled over, took a breath, closed his eyes, and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the explanation of Fraser's strangeness.
The passenger-side door slammed shut.
Ray's eyes snapped open and he gaped as he watched Fraser - trailed by Dief - walk into a bakery. He scrambled for his gun, his badge, ripped his keys out of the ignition and nearly fell climbing out of the car. Fraser must have spotted something suspicious, a crime in progress, maybe the cheese store robberies had extended to bakeries? He burst in the door of the bakery with his gun extended, only to see Fraser calmly pointing at pastries in the glass case.
"Ah, Ray," said Fraser, not turning around. "Do you prefer cherry or apple?"
Ray said, "What are you talking about, Fraser?" And holstered his gun.
"Turnovers. Would you prefer cherry or apple?"
"Um, cherry."
Fraser paid for the turnovers -- the donut for Dief was apparently on the house -- and headed back to the car without another word to Ray.
Ray normally wouldn't let anyone eat in his car, but that morning he found himself brushing sugar crystals off his T-shirt when they got to the station.
"Thanks for the breakfast, Fraser."
"You're very welcome, Ray. I'm pleased that you enjoyed it." Fraser beamed.
Wednesday
"Why, Fraser?" asked Ray, as they drove to work from the bakery on Wednesday morning.
"Why what, Ray?"
"Why are we having turnovers for breakfast, Fraser? What happened to oatmeal or gruel or porridge or whatever you call it? What about "Refined sugar paves the way for a multitude of health problems, Ray" and "Ray, that much sugar in your diet is bound to have consequences sooner or later" and "Ray, why are there bits of candy in your coffee?" Ray took a deep breath. "I can't take it anymore, Fraser. What is going on with you?"
"I'm sorry if you feel I've harped on you, Ray. I simply wanted to show concern for your somewhat unbalanced diet. But in answer to your original question, that is, why we are having turnovers for breakfast, the answer is that I ... thought you would like it. And I felt inclined to celebrate."
"What are we celebrating, Fraser?"
"It's spring, Ray!"
"It's what?"
"It's spring! The sun rises earlier and sets later, the trees are starting to think about budding, the very earth smells of renewal!" Fraser inhaled deeply through his nose, held his breath a moment, then exhaled. "Try it, Ray!"
Ray sniffed suspiciously, turning his head this way and that, then exhaled.
Fraser looked at him expectantly. "It's spring, Ray!"
Ray shook his head. "It's crap, Fraser," he replied.
"I beg your pardon, Ray, but I know when the equinox occurs, and I know what it means, I have drawn conclusions from my observations of the natural world, and it is not, as you say, crap. It is spring, and I rejoice in it."
"With breakfast pastries?"
"Yes." Fraser nodded. "With breakfast pastries."
"That's good, Fraser, that's all good, any time you're happy enough to want pastries for breakfast is total greatness as far as I'm concerned, but my point remains, and my point is that it's crap."
"Ray--"
"The smell, Fraser! It's crap! It's turds! It's melting dog turds!"
Dief made an offended noise.
"Melting wolf turds, then. That's what you smell. That's what spring smells like in Chicago." Ray folded his arms.
Fraser took another deep breath, held it a moment, then broke into a huge grin. "I believe you are correct, Ray. Although I do also smell freshly turned sod, and tree buds, the overwhelming top note is indeed, well, crap."
"I told you, didn't I?" asked Ray.
Fraser said, "You did indeed, Ray." And smiled happily.
And they walked, side by side, into the 2-7.
Thursday
The next morning, when they arrived at work, Frannie immediately ambushed them. The 'them' was generous, thought Ray. She'd ambushed Fraser.
"Fraser, hi."
"Hello, Francesca. Have a pastry." Stopping at the bakery had become a part of their morning ritual, and this morning, Fraser had bought extra.
"Ooh, pastries. Thank you, Fraser. How sweet." She put the bag on her desk. "Fraser, I thought about what you said yesterday, and you're right. It is the season."
"The season is spring," Ray interjected, smiling at Fraser. "The earth renewing, stuff melting, all that jazz."
"That's right, Ray," said Frannie, taking Fraser's arm and turning him away from Ray. "Fraser, I looked it up, there's a solstice coming up this weekend. Maybe we could, you know, watch it together?"
"Actually, Francesca, in the northern hemisphere, the summer solstice occurs in mid-to-late June, and the winter solstice around mid-to-late December. Spring and fall are the seasons of the equinox, one this weekend, and one at the end of September."
Frannie nodded, her brow furrowed.
Fraser continued. "In either case, none of these is observable, they are merely the times of the year when the the sun's strongest rays are furthest from the equator, and when the sun's strongest rays are directly hitting the equator."
"Un-huh," said Frannie slowly. "Well, you do have to come by the house later, there are these birds doing weird things in the yard, Ma is a bit worried about them. They keep bobbing their heads at each other, bowing, almost, and they keep bringing each other little bits of string."
"Ah, I see, they're courting. Well, that's absolutely normal for this time of year, animals select their mates and the rituals of courtship begin." Fraser and Frannie kept walking and talking, but Ray didn't hear a word they said. He stood there, stunned.
Fraser was courting Frannie. It was the only thing that made sense. He'd brought her a pastry, he was being friendly, he was talking to her about mating. Ray'd never thought he'd see the day, but it seemed obvious, now that he knew what he was looking at.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. All Ray could think about was Fraser and Frannie, dating, kissing, getting married, and having a bunch of kids. Him being their Uncle Ray.
He spent the night with a six-pack of beer, thinking about it, and eventually realized he was jealous. To counter that realization, he switched to shots.
Friday
After a long and mostly sleepless night, Ray woke early on Friday, an empty feeling inside him. He called Fraser at the Consulate and begged off driving him, saying he had an appointment first thing. "I'll see you at work, Fraser."
Ray planted his face in his pillow and slept until ten, then gingerly showered and shaved. Welsh was, thankfully, at a city meeting and so not at the station to lecture Ray on punctuality. There was a message from Fraser that he'd had a curtain emergency at the Consulate, and that he'd be in that afternoon. Ray tried to figure out about what a curtain emergency might entail, then stopped trying. This much thinking hurt his head. He could really use a coffee.
As if by magic, Fraser appeared at his desk, holding a cup of steaming liquid in his hand. "Coffee, Ray?"
He rested a hand on Ray's shoulder while he drank it. Ray discounted this as a clue. Fraser was always putting a hand on him somewhere. It was just a Fraser thing. Besides, he'd solved the mystery.
"Thanks, Fraser," said Ray. "And, um, congratulations."
Fraser looked puzzled.
"I mean, if you've decided to stop running and--" he wouldn't say 'court', it wasn't a word he would use. "If you want to date Frannie, then, uh, that's, you know, great. Good stuff."
Fraser looked stunned. "Ray, could we have this conversation somewhere a little more private?" Fraser practically dragged Ray to the supply closet, waited for him to walk in, then closed the door behind them.
"Now, what were you saying, Ray?"
"With Frannie, Fraser, you don't need to court her, just, you know, make your move. Just kiss her already, she'll follow where you lead."
Fraser took a deep breath. "And if it's not Francesca I'm trying to, ah, date, Ray? Does your advice still hold?"
Wait a minute. The head bobbing in the car? The pastries? The coffee? Fraser was courting him?
"Fraser?"
Fraser took a step forward. He was only inches away from Ray. "Does your advice hold, Ray? To just kiss al--"
Ray reached out, grabbed Fraser by the sleeves, and kissed him.
"I see," said Fraser. And kissed him back.
Minutes ticked by, and no one said anything. Eventually, Ray stepped back and put a hand on Fraser's chest. "But you never said anything," said Ray. "On the quest, all those long nights." It was a question.
It was dark, but Fraser ducked his head, then raised his gaze to Ray's.
"I didn't want to say anything while we were ... where you were depending on me to survive. Where you couldn't leave if you wanted to."
"Did you think I'd want to, Fraser? To leave?"
"I hoped not, but I wasn't entirely--" Fraser put his hand on Ray's forearm. "I don't want to spend another winter alone, Ray."
"Me either, Fraser," said Ray. He leaned forward and breathed in near Fraser's neck, then smiled. "Spend the weekend at my place? Watch the equinox with me?"
Ray could hear the smile in Fraser's voice. "I would love to, Ray."