Ficlet: On the Ice (due South, Fraser/RayK)
Story title: On the Ice
Author: Amedia
Rating: R
Characters: Fraser, Kowalski
Ships: Fraser/Kowalski
Summary: Canada is cold. RayK is crabby. Benton sings.
Word Count: 907
Author's note: Prompt fill for
ride_4ever, who requested the fandom due South, pairing Fraser/Kowalski, with the prompts: aurora borealis, ice-road trucker, pemmican.
Fangirl squee note:This is my first original due South fic! I did a remix once of a Tin Man/due South story.
Notes on the music mentioned in the fic: The Stan Rogers song that Fraser begins with is "White Squall". I quite like Stan Rogers, but I find it depressing to listen to too many of his songs in a row."Joy of my Heart" is not by Stan Rogers, but his brother Garnet Rogers recorded a lovely version of it along with Archie Fisher.
"I'm telling you, Fraser, that's not a lake. Lakes have ... y'know. Water. Fish. That kinda thing."
"I assure you, Ray," Fraser said to his partner, "That is, in fact, a lake. Indeed, were you to drill down far enough under the ice, you would find liquid water and even fish. At this time of year, however..."
"Look, there's one thing I'm sure of, and that is TRUCKS DO NOT DRIVE ON LAKES." Kowalski was very firm on this point. It was rare, in this topsy-turvy meshugas that his life had become since Benton Fraser entered it, that he could be sure of anything. "So that can't be a lake."
"Nevertheless, that is a lake, and driving on it is precisely what those trucks are doing."
Kowalski thought hard, watching Diefenbaker cavorting happily around them in the snow. "Maybe it's a Canadian thing. Reason number one hundred thirty-eight why Canadians are fucking crazy."
"The phenomenon also occurs in Alaska, Ray, where even the Arctic Ocean has become a vehicular thoroughfare when sufficiently frozen." Fraser cocked his head and smiled at him. "And Alaska is in the United States."
Kowalski considered smacking Fraser for that smirk. Then it occurred to him that kissing Fraser would be more fun. Then it occurred to him that they would both have to unwrap their scarves in this bitter cold, and he didn't want to kiss Fraser quite that much.
What he really wanted was not to have to walk the entire Tuktoyaktuk Winter Road to pick up a prisoner. "I thought we were supposed to ride in a helicopter," he complained.
Fraser showed no surprise at the change of subject. "Yes, a helicopter will ferry us and our prisoner from Aklavik back to the base, but we are required to get ourselves to Aklavik." Kowalski vaguely remembered that Fraser had said this before, but Kowalski had been too busy investigating his borrowed winter garb, trying to figure out which pockets would be most accessible once he was fully zipped up so that he could get at his cigarettes without losing any body parts to frostbite.
Another truck was gradually approaching, with a big corporate logo on the side of the trailer and a small sticker on the side of the cab that looked a bit like the aurora borealis. Fraser studied it for a moment, then made a gesture that somehow convinced the truck to pull over and slow to a halt. Kowalski watched in astonishment as Fraser climbed up to the near-side door, opened it a crack and stuck his head in, then waved to Kowalski to join him.
"He says we are welcome to ride with him to our destination. The heater's broken, but it's still much warmer in there than out here," he explained as Kowalski climbed up. "Ray, you get in the middle where it's warmest." Once Kowalski had squeezed in, entirely too close to the burly, tattooed, and none-too-fragrant driver, Fraser whistled and Dief leapt into the cab, settling himself on Kowalski's feet with his head on his knees. Fraser climbed in after and closed the door; Kowalski had to admit, it was a hell of a lot warmer just being out of the wind. Especially with Dief there, although Kowalski couldn't figure out if he was being snuggled or guarded.
"I thank you most kindly for your hospitality," said Fraser to the driver, who grunted and pulled back onto the track.
The three of them--four, counting Diefenbaker--rode in silence for several minutes. Finally the trucker broke the silence by saying, "Sorry about the heater. Radio's broken too."
"The accommodations are still superior to the alternative," said Fraser.
"He means it's fucking cold out there," Kowalski translated. "Better in here."
"Better with more people, too," said the trucker. "Body heat. S'why I picked you up." Kowalski wasn't sure about that; he was almost certain that Fraser's gesture had invoked some kind of secret Crazy-ass Obscure Enthusiast Canadian Brotherhood. People who swapped recipes for incorporating pemmican into poutine or something. Not that he was gonna complain.
They rode along silently for a while until the trucker cleared his throat and said, "Either of you sing?"
"Sing?" repeated Kowalski, puzzled.
"Yeah. Be nice to have some music."
"I've been reliably informed that I have a pleasant singing voice," Fraser volunteered. "Any requests?"
"You know any Stan Rogers?"
Kowalski rolled his eyes. That'll keep us all the way to Aklavik. We can be depressed the whole damn way.
"A favorite of mine," Fraser enthusiastically proclaimed, and without awaiting further invitation, he launched into a lament for a young deckhand swept overboard in a storm because he failed to follow safety protocols. Kowalski closed his eyes, leaned against Fraser's shoulder, and fell fast asleep.
He awoke to find Fraser's arm around him while the Mountie and the ice road trucker were bellowing "Joy of My Heart" together at the top of their lungs and Dief snored along in tune. Kowalski was surprised at Fraser's open display of affection in front of the stranger, and then realized that whatever signal Fraser had picked up, it wasn't an interest in pemmican or poutine. His brain woke up a little more and it dawned on him that Fraser's arm around him was intended to demonstrate that they were both taken.
Through the side window, he saw a sign that said "Aklavik next exit." He was almost sorry the ride was over.
This entry was originally posted at https://amedia.dreamwidth.org/433234.html.
Author: Amedia
Rating: R
Characters: Fraser, Kowalski
Ships: Fraser/Kowalski
Summary: Canada is cold. RayK is crabby. Benton sings.
Word Count: 907
Author's note: Prompt fill for
ride_4ever, who requested the fandom due South, pairing Fraser/Kowalski, with the prompts: aurora borealis, ice-road trucker, pemmican.
Fangirl squee note:This is my first original due South fic! I did a remix once of a Tin Man/due South story.
Notes on the music mentioned in the fic: The Stan Rogers song that Fraser begins with is "White Squall". I quite like Stan Rogers, but I find it depressing to listen to too many of his songs in a row."Joy of my Heart" is not by Stan Rogers, but his brother Garnet Rogers recorded a lovely version of it along with Archie Fisher.
"I'm telling you, Fraser, that's not a lake. Lakes have ... y'know. Water. Fish. That kinda thing."
"I assure you, Ray," Fraser said to his partner, "That is, in fact, a lake. Indeed, were you to drill down far enough under the ice, you would find liquid water and even fish. At this time of year, however..."
"Look, there's one thing I'm sure of, and that is TRUCKS DO NOT DRIVE ON LAKES." Kowalski was very firm on this point. It was rare, in this topsy-turvy meshugas that his life had become since Benton Fraser entered it, that he could be sure of anything. "So that can't be a lake."
"Nevertheless, that is a lake, and driving on it is precisely what those trucks are doing."
Kowalski thought hard, watching Diefenbaker cavorting happily around them in the snow. "Maybe it's a Canadian thing. Reason number one hundred thirty-eight why Canadians are fucking crazy."
"The phenomenon also occurs in Alaska, Ray, where even the Arctic Ocean has become a vehicular thoroughfare when sufficiently frozen." Fraser cocked his head and smiled at him. "And Alaska is in the United States."
Kowalski considered smacking Fraser for that smirk. Then it occurred to him that kissing Fraser would be more fun. Then it occurred to him that they would both have to unwrap their scarves in this bitter cold, and he didn't want to kiss Fraser quite that much.
What he really wanted was not to have to walk the entire Tuktoyaktuk Winter Road to pick up a prisoner. "I thought we were supposed to ride in a helicopter," he complained.
Fraser showed no surprise at the change of subject. "Yes, a helicopter will ferry us and our prisoner from Aklavik back to the base, but we are required to get ourselves to Aklavik." Kowalski vaguely remembered that Fraser had said this before, but Kowalski had been too busy investigating his borrowed winter garb, trying to figure out which pockets would be most accessible once he was fully zipped up so that he could get at his cigarettes without losing any body parts to frostbite.
Another truck was gradually approaching, with a big corporate logo on the side of the trailer and a small sticker on the side of the cab that looked a bit like the aurora borealis. Fraser studied it for a moment, then made a gesture that somehow convinced the truck to pull over and slow to a halt. Kowalski watched in astonishment as Fraser climbed up to the near-side door, opened it a crack and stuck his head in, then waved to Kowalski to join him.
"He says we are welcome to ride with him to our destination. The heater's broken, but it's still much warmer in there than out here," he explained as Kowalski climbed up. "Ray, you get in the middle where it's warmest." Once Kowalski had squeezed in, entirely too close to the burly, tattooed, and none-too-fragrant driver, Fraser whistled and Dief leapt into the cab, settling himself on Kowalski's feet with his head on his knees. Fraser climbed in after and closed the door; Kowalski had to admit, it was a hell of a lot warmer just being out of the wind. Especially with Dief there, although Kowalski couldn't figure out if he was being snuggled or guarded.
"I thank you most kindly for your hospitality," said Fraser to the driver, who grunted and pulled back onto the track.
The three of them--four, counting Diefenbaker--rode in silence for several minutes. Finally the trucker broke the silence by saying, "Sorry about the heater. Radio's broken too."
"The accommodations are still superior to the alternative," said Fraser.
"He means it's fucking cold out there," Kowalski translated. "Better in here."
"Better with more people, too," said the trucker. "Body heat. S'why I picked you up." Kowalski wasn't sure about that; he was almost certain that Fraser's gesture had invoked some kind of secret Crazy-ass Obscure Enthusiast Canadian Brotherhood. People who swapped recipes for incorporating pemmican into poutine or something. Not that he was gonna complain.
They rode along silently for a while until the trucker cleared his throat and said, "Either of you sing?"
"Sing?" repeated Kowalski, puzzled.
"Yeah. Be nice to have some music."
"I've been reliably informed that I have a pleasant singing voice," Fraser volunteered. "Any requests?"
"You know any Stan Rogers?"
Kowalski rolled his eyes. That'll keep us all the way to Aklavik. We can be depressed the whole damn way.
"A favorite of mine," Fraser enthusiastically proclaimed, and without awaiting further invitation, he launched into a lament for a young deckhand swept overboard in a storm because he failed to follow safety protocols. Kowalski closed his eyes, leaned against Fraser's shoulder, and fell fast asleep.
He awoke to find Fraser's arm around him while the Mountie and the ice road trucker were bellowing "Joy of My Heart" together at the top of their lungs and Dief snored along in tune. Kowalski was surprised at Fraser's open display of affection in front of the stranger, and then realized that whatever signal Fraser had picked up, it wasn't an interest in pemmican or poutine. His brain woke up a little more and it dawned on him that Fraser's arm around him was intended to demonstrate that they were both taken.
Through the side window, he saw a sign that said "Aklavik next exit." He was almost sorry the ride was over.
This entry was originally posted at https://amedia.dreamwidth.org/433234.html.