calling from across a distant shore
Okay, do you know what happens when I marathon the Lord of the Rings movies, whilst also rereading the books, whilst also rewatching due South episodes in my spare time and trying to focus on one dS fic project long enough to actually get things written? HORRIBLE THINGS HAPPEN, that is what.
And by "horrible things," I actually mean "Oh yes, despite having interesting plot ideas I can do nothing with my actual due South fic, but sit me down with a blank doc and within an hour I will have a few pages of total crackfic about what happens when Ray Kowalski ends up with the One Ring."
Anyway, uh, there will probably never be more of this because I ran out of steam and have no interest in getting any more steam or whatever the appropriate metaphor is, but I though this might be entertaining, so: have a few pages of total crackfic about what happens when Ray Kowalski ends up with the One Ring!
They all stared at it for a while.
"I don't think I woulda taken this gig if I'd known it came with this," Ray said finally. "Sorry, sir. And no offense, Frannie."
"Next time I see Ray I'm kicking his ass," Francesca replied, so that was okay.
"We still have to do something about it," Lieutenant Welsh reminded them, and sighed, slumping back and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Getting it off our hands is outta the question -- it'll blow Vecchio's cover -- and there ain't no way I'd trust IA or the Feds with it anyway. So it's our problem."
"I get sunburn," Dewey said. It was probably true but that didn't make it any less bullshit.
"I get sick on airplanes," Huey said, which was pretty much the same.
"Oh, I can't, Lieu, I, uh --" and Frannie didn't actually say, but she gave Welsh one of those half-panicked meaningful looks she gave him sometimes, and he seemed to get that. Which left Ray and Fraser.
Fraser looked at him and his eyes filled right up with pleading panic, this scary naked look which Ray was sure as hell going to ask about later, but at the moment he just shrugged loosely and said, "Okay, okay, what the hell, I got the short straw. I'll take it. No idea what's the shortest way to Hawaii though, Lieu."
"I'm sure we can figure that out, Ray," Fraser said, so that was that.
Ray sighed and picked up the Ring from Welsh's desk. "Okay," he said. "Pitter patter."
~
They swung by the Consulate for Fraser's civvies, which fit into a pack, and by Ray's apartment for his changes of clothes, which fit into a duffle. Fraser made sure they had enough cash while Ray went across the hall and made Mrs. Magworth promise to feed his turtle. Then it was call a taxi for O'Hare, since no way was Ray leaving his GTO in airport parking, and while they waited, Ray got a spare chain, looped the Ring around his neck, fiddled with it, asked: "Why won't you take it?"
"Well," Fraser said, and here came out the eyebrow-rub of nervousness, "to begin with, it's quite clearly addressed to Raymond Vecchio --"
"Yeah, from Vecchio," Ray interrupted. "So I'm guessing he meant it to get to you."
"Perhaps," Fraser agreed, and drew a breath. "You read the briefing, Ray. It can't -- I can't --"
Ray fiddled with it some more. "You'd want to help people."
"Very much." Fraser drew a breath. "And as long as it's in your keeping, that tendency will be directed towards helping you, and thereby accomplishing our mission."
"Yeah," Ray said. "Okay."
~
He wouldn't've even believed the damn briefing except he got to the part where it said makes you invisible, and he'd thought Vecchio was maybe being a jerk and wanting to make whoever tried it look like an idiot. He figured being undercover with the mob was a pretty good excuse to act like a jerk, but Ray tried it on anyway, and maybe Huey and Dewey would've pulled his leg on this one, maybe even Frannie and Welsh in a pinch, but Fraser had stared right through him, and he'd known it wasn't a fake.
Ray liked the way the Ring felt, snug on his finger, but being invisible -- he had that covered, he was all over that, twenty-four/seven. Fraser staring through him, though, Fraser not seeing him --
He was gonna throw the fucker into a Hawaiian volcano fast as he could, if it meant having that never happen again.
~
At airport security the ID checker gave Ray's driver's license a good long look. "Vecchio, huh," he said, squinting at Ray. His nametag said HARRY. Ray usually didn't like people named Harry. He gave the guy a nod instead of attitude, and Fraser hovered on the other side of the metal detector, looking back through worriedly.
Harry the ID guy let Ray go eventually, and he got through the rest no problemo, nabbed his duffle on the other side of the conveyer belt. "Shit," he muttered to Fraser as they took off for their gate, "what if it'd set off the metal detector?"
"It's gold, Ray," Fraser said, frowning. "Jewelry does not generally --"
"Yeah, but Frase, it makes you invisible, and we're throwing it in a volcano, I think it might set off a few --" He stopped talking cuz Fraser was gripping his arm in warning. Right. Don't talk about it. Ray nodded, took a deep breath, said, "Fraser, I'm thinking right now it might be a good idea for me to be Kowalski again."
Life had a funny way of being ironic, though, because soon as he said that someone called from down the airport, "Mr. Vecchio?" and, because Ray was programmed to at that point, he turned. A bunch of mafia-looking guys in black -- four, maybe five -- were standing by a concession stand, and when they saw him, one of them pulled out a fucking gun in the middle of the airport. Ray sort of stood and stared for a second, cop instincts on hold cuz he was that shocked, and funny details jumped out at him. Like the concession stand behind the guys was advertising BRIE CHEESE in bright green, and the guy pointing the gun at Ray had the coldest eyes Ray had seen ever -- and then he and Fraser reacted at the same time, both of them trying to get the fuck down, but it was still a second too slow, and pain went shattering high through Ray's shoulder.
"Hey, uh, sorry," Ray said to Fraser, voice all choked, and to his great embarrassment he passed out.
~
"Three days?" were Ray's first words when he woke up, followed by "What the fuck did they shoot me with that made me sleep for three days?" and when someone not Fraser tried to answer this, his third words were "And who the fuck are you?"
"El," the someone-not-Fraser said, cool as you like. He looked youngish and like money, and Ray wasn't sure he liked him.
"Like the train?" Ray quipped.
"Short for Ellery," El said. "And they shot you with -- let's say it's like a werewolf and a silver bullet. But it was only silver the way your pretty ring is simple gold." Ray started, felt the Ring still weighing on the chain around his neck, and relaxed a little, enough to hear El add, "I got it out before it reached your heart, so you should be fine."
"Jeez, my --? Jeez." Ray slumped down in the bed and felt kinda shivery. He felt stupidly grateful when El left it at that, promised Ray some food and got out of there. So Ray was just sitting alone with Fraser, who hadn't said anything yet but, Ray realized, had been holding tight to his hand the whole time. It felt nice, so he didn't say anything, but Fraser must have noticed.
He didn't let go, though, just said quietly, "For a while your hand was very cold, Ray."
"Hey, you know me, I'm like rubber," Ray said. Fraser gave him a confused look. Ray grinned. "I bounce back, buddy." The confused look started to turn into something else, soft and grateful and lots of things Ray sure as hell didn't have defenses for right now, so he cleared his throat and asked, "So where are we? What's with this guy El?"
"We're in the last house on West Riverside," Fraser said, "and El is a doctor who, fortunately for us, knows a little about what's going on." He ran his thumb over Ray's knuckles. "Ray, we've switched all your documents to Kowalski. That should help. And this time we're leaving by train -- slower, I know, but the airport is being watched."
"Fuck," Ray breathed. "Fraser, what are we doing? We do some bizarre stuff, I know this, but we got a weapon that looks like jewelry and we hafta throw it into a volcano and mafia guys with magic bullets are trying to kill me."
"Nazgûl," Fraser said.
"Bless you."
"The, ah, mafia guys," Fraser explained. "Their organization is called the Nazgûl." He watched Ray for a moment and gave a soft sad smile. "I'm sorry, Ray."
"Nah, it's okay, you never know what you're signing up for, right? Okay, where we going next?"
"To an out-of-state airport by train," Fraser said, "as soon as you're well."
~
Aaaand after that I'd have to figure out what Moria is supposed to be (besides perhaps trains) and where the Great River & the Dead Marshes should be, and who should play Gollum, and how exactly I am supposed to justify Sauron = the mafia, which, wtf, self, so -- that is all!
(Even though I also totally want to write the scene where Ray gets to the volcano and can't get rid of it and Fraser really wants to help but Fraser can't get rid of it and -- yeah. I dunno!)
And by "horrible things," I actually mean "Oh yes, despite having interesting plot ideas I can do nothing with my actual due South fic, but sit me down with a blank doc and within an hour I will have a few pages of total crackfic about what happens when Ray Kowalski ends up with the One Ring."
Anyway, uh, there will probably never be more of this because I ran out of steam and have no interest in getting any more steam or whatever the appropriate metaphor is, but I though this might be entertaining, so: have a few pages of total crackfic about what happens when Ray Kowalski ends up with the One Ring!
They all stared at it for a while.
"I don't think I woulda taken this gig if I'd known it came with this," Ray said finally. "Sorry, sir. And no offense, Frannie."
"Next time I see Ray I'm kicking his ass," Francesca replied, so that was okay.
"We still have to do something about it," Lieutenant Welsh reminded them, and sighed, slumping back and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Getting it off our hands is outta the question -- it'll blow Vecchio's cover -- and there ain't no way I'd trust IA or the Feds with it anyway. So it's our problem."
"I get sunburn," Dewey said. It was probably true but that didn't make it any less bullshit.
"I get sick on airplanes," Huey said, which was pretty much the same.
"Oh, I can't, Lieu, I, uh --" and Frannie didn't actually say, but she gave Welsh one of those half-panicked meaningful looks she gave him sometimes, and he seemed to get that. Which left Ray and Fraser.
Fraser looked at him and his eyes filled right up with pleading panic, this scary naked look which Ray was sure as hell going to ask about later, but at the moment he just shrugged loosely and said, "Okay, okay, what the hell, I got the short straw. I'll take it. No idea what's the shortest way to Hawaii though, Lieu."
"I'm sure we can figure that out, Ray," Fraser said, so that was that.
Ray sighed and picked up the Ring from Welsh's desk. "Okay," he said. "Pitter patter."
~
They swung by the Consulate for Fraser's civvies, which fit into a pack, and by Ray's apartment for his changes of clothes, which fit into a duffle. Fraser made sure they had enough cash while Ray went across the hall and made Mrs. Magworth promise to feed his turtle. Then it was call a taxi for O'Hare, since no way was Ray leaving his GTO in airport parking, and while they waited, Ray got a spare chain, looped the Ring around his neck, fiddled with it, asked: "Why won't you take it?"
"Well," Fraser said, and here came out the eyebrow-rub of nervousness, "to begin with, it's quite clearly addressed to Raymond Vecchio --"
"Yeah, from Vecchio," Ray interrupted. "So I'm guessing he meant it to get to you."
"Perhaps," Fraser agreed, and drew a breath. "You read the briefing, Ray. It can't -- I can't --"
Ray fiddled with it some more. "You'd want to help people."
"Very much." Fraser drew a breath. "And as long as it's in your keeping, that tendency will be directed towards helping you, and thereby accomplishing our mission."
"Yeah," Ray said. "Okay."
~
He wouldn't've even believed the damn briefing except he got to the part where it said makes you invisible, and he'd thought Vecchio was maybe being a jerk and wanting to make whoever tried it look like an idiot. He figured being undercover with the mob was a pretty good excuse to act like a jerk, but Ray tried it on anyway, and maybe Huey and Dewey would've pulled his leg on this one, maybe even Frannie and Welsh in a pinch, but Fraser had stared right through him, and he'd known it wasn't a fake.
Ray liked the way the Ring felt, snug on his finger, but being invisible -- he had that covered, he was all over that, twenty-four/seven. Fraser staring through him, though, Fraser not seeing him --
He was gonna throw the fucker into a Hawaiian volcano fast as he could, if it meant having that never happen again.
~
At airport security the ID checker gave Ray's driver's license a good long look. "Vecchio, huh," he said, squinting at Ray. His nametag said HARRY. Ray usually didn't like people named Harry. He gave the guy a nod instead of attitude, and Fraser hovered on the other side of the metal detector, looking back through worriedly.
Harry the ID guy let Ray go eventually, and he got through the rest no problemo, nabbed his duffle on the other side of the conveyer belt. "Shit," he muttered to Fraser as they took off for their gate, "what if it'd set off the metal detector?"
"It's gold, Ray," Fraser said, frowning. "Jewelry does not generally --"
"Yeah, but Frase, it makes you invisible, and we're throwing it in a volcano, I think it might set off a few --" He stopped talking cuz Fraser was gripping his arm in warning. Right. Don't talk about it. Ray nodded, took a deep breath, said, "Fraser, I'm thinking right now it might be a good idea for me to be Kowalski again."
Life had a funny way of being ironic, though, because soon as he said that someone called from down the airport, "Mr. Vecchio?" and, because Ray was programmed to at that point, he turned. A bunch of mafia-looking guys in black -- four, maybe five -- were standing by a concession stand, and when they saw him, one of them pulled out a fucking gun in the middle of the airport. Ray sort of stood and stared for a second, cop instincts on hold cuz he was that shocked, and funny details jumped out at him. Like the concession stand behind the guys was advertising BRIE CHEESE in bright green, and the guy pointing the gun at Ray had the coldest eyes Ray had seen ever -- and then he and Fraser reacted at the same time, both of them trying to get the fuck down, but it was still a second too slow, and pain went shattering high through Ray's shoulder.
"Hey, uh, sorry," Ray said to Fraser, voice all choked, and to his great embarrassment he passed out.
~
"Three days?" were Ray's first words when he woke up, followed by "What the fuck did they shoot me with that made me sleep for three days?" and when someone not Fraser tried to answer this, his third words were "And who the fuck are you?"
"El," the someone-not-Fraser said, cool as you like. He looked youngish and like money, and Ray wasn't sure he liked him.
"Like the train?" Ray quipped.
"Short for Ellery," El said. "And they shot you with -- let's say it's like a werewolf and a silver bullet. But it was only silver the way your pretty ring is simple gold." Ray started, felt the Ring still weighing on the chain around his neck, and relaxed a little, enough to hear El add, "I got it out before it reached your heart, so you should be fine."
"Jeez, my --? Jeez." Ray slumped down in the bed and felt kinda shivery. He felt stupidly grateful when El left it at that, promised Ray some food and got out of there. So Ray was just sitting alone with Fraser, who hadn't said anything yet but, Ray realized, had been holding tight to his hand the whole time. It felt nice, so he didn't say anything, but Fraser must have noticed.
He didn't let go, though, just said quietly, "For a while your hand was very cold, Ray."
"Hey, you know me, I'm like rubber," Ray said. Fraser gave him a confused look. Ray grinned. "I bounce back, buddy." The confused look started to turn into something else, soft and grateful and lots of things Ray sure as hell didn't have defenses for right now, so he cleared his throat and asked, "So where are we? What's with this guy El?"
"We're in the last house on West Riverside," Fraser said, "and El is a doctor who, fortunately for us, knows a little about what's going on." He ran his thumb over Ray's knuckles. "Ray, we've switched all your documents to Kowalski. That should help. And this time we're leaving by train -- slower, I know, but the airport is being watched."
"Fuck," Ray breathed. "Fraser, what are we doing? We do some bizarre stuff, I know this, but we got a weapon that looks like jewelry and we hafta throw it into a volcano and mafia guys with magic bullets are trying to kill me."
"Nazgûl," Fraser said.
"Bless you."
"The, ah, mafia guys," Fraser explained. "Their organization is called the Nazgûl." He watched Ray for a moment and gave a soft sad smile. "I'm sorry, Ray."
"Nah, it's okay, you never know what you're signing up for, right? Okay, where we going next?"
"To an out-of-state airport by train," Fraser said, "as soon as you're well."
~
Aaaand after that I'd have to figure out what Moria is supposed to be (besides perhaps trains) and where the Great River & the Dead Marshes should be, and who should play Gollum, and how exactly I am supposed to justify Sauron = the mafia, which, wtf, self, so -- that is all!
(Even though I also totally want to write the scene where Ray gets to the volcano and can't get rid of it and Fraser really wants to help but Fraser can't get rid of it and -- yeah. I dunno!)