Fic: Thatcher's Clock (due South, part ten of 'Queering the Text')
So, I've been watching due South on dvd recently and discovered a) that I miss writing these guys and b) the order is different on the dvds than the order that I saw them (production versus showing... who knows, yeah?). As Asylum/Perfect Strangers/Dead Guy Running is what the order was with my tapes, that's the order that's kinda embedded in this series, despite now learning that the dvd order is Dead Guy Running/Perfect Strangers/Asylum. So, I'm going to stick with the former, unless I change my mind after writing the post for DGR.
Title: Thatcher's Clock (Perfect Strangers)
Summary: Ray thinks he's got this partnership thing with Fraser just about worked out.
Pairing: Eventual Ray/Fraser; residual Ray/Stella. Gen and/or pre-slash at the moment, though.
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Tenth part in a twenty-four part series. They are, in essence, post-episode ficlets from RayK's perspective. Previous parts can be located here.
Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. Well, there's the computer I'm writing on. I also have a moderate collection of books and dvds. And... ah, yes, I own none of the characters mentioned in this story. That would be Alliance Atlantis and the Pauls.
"That whole crime-switching call was pretty clever," Ray says, pulling his third piece of pineapple and sausage pizza out of the box and starting in on it. Fraser startles out of his long-distance staring at the TV, and turns slightly towards Ray on the couch.
"Thank you, Ray," he says, but he still sounds distracted, like he's all caught up in that big brain of his.
There's something serious up with Fraser tonight -- first, he says that he has something to do and he won't be coming over, then he just shows up out of nowhere, hair slicked down to the scalp and wearing some kinda funky cologne that smells like an old fur coat, the expensive kind that Stella's mom still wears sometimes.
Now, Ray's got nothing against Fraser visiting at any time, so he's not planning on saying 'boo' about it, but as a detective, he feels the need to investigate. After all, Fraser's his partner, his pal. They're buddies.
"Is it the Canada thing?" Ray asks, immediately wishing that he'd bitten his tongue instead. Fraser tilts his head curiously and Ray barrels on, in for a penny. "Because if going up there... if you felt- the Ice Queen might be willing to give you... I mean-"
"What do you mean, Ray?" Fraser asks, his eyes curious and bright; Mountie expression #152: I am giving you my full and complete attention, possibly even taking mental notes, in case of a quiz later on.
"If going up there made you miss it," Ray says, putting his half-eaten slice of pizza down on the lid of the box. "If maybe you wanted to spend more time there."
"In Toronto?" Fraser asks, with clear amusement. "Oh, no, Ray, not in the least."
"In Canada," Ray says, with a shrug. Fraser's light dims a little, but he's still mostly amused, and Ray feels kinda relieved. This isn't the thing that's bugging Fraser, it's not a 'home' thing. Which means that Ray might have a chance of fixing whatever kinda thing it is. "Or maybe it's something to do with the case."
"I don't entirely follow," Fraser says, but he looks away, and Ray thinks that Fraser's following quite well, thank you, but it's a place that he don't want to go any. So, he fixes Fraser with Chicago Cop expression #2: Don't even try it, punk. Fraser flushes slightly, like he can feel Ray's eyes.
"Something's up your ear, Fraser, and I aim to find out what," Ray says. Fraser opens his mouth to say something smartass and then glances at Ray, catching sight of good ol' #2. His mouth closes again with a snap and he shrugs, reaching down for a slice of pizza and absently picking up Ray's old one.
"It's nothing important," Fraser says. He takes a bite of the pizza, chews and swallows, and then glances down, blinking when he sees that he's pretty much holding crust and nothing else. He shoots Ray an apologetic look but Ray just waves a hand at him. "It was merely a misunderstanding."
"What kind?" Ray asks, wiping his fingers off on his shirt before grabbing his beer for a quick gulp.
"Ah, well, it's complicated," Fraser says. He eats the rest of the pizza slice, then slowly wipes his hands on a paper towel he must have snagged from the kitchen earlier. Ray attempts to look like he's got the patience of a turtle, though he doubts he's succeeding. "And it's... well, it's more than a little embarrassing, to tell you the truth."
"Embarrassing?" Ray asks.
"I am capable of being embarrassed, I assure you," Fraser says.
"Oh, yeah, I believe you," Ray says.
"You... you do?" Fraser asks.
"Course I do," Ray says. "I've seen you around Frannie, Fraser."
"Ah," Fraser says, his flush deepening. Now, this reaction of his, Ray is starting to understand. Because while Frannie is pretty much, well, hot, Ray is beginning to think that her combination of pushy and talky throws just about everybody off-balance. And Fraser doesn't seem to like being off-balance much, plus there's the best friend's sister part of the whole shebang, which just has to make everything extra awkward. The Frannie thing makes sense. Mostly.
"Now, it is a proven fact that telling your partner something makes it easier to handle," Ray says. Fraser's eyes narrow and he looks about five seconds away from a snippy little comment along the lines of asking Ray to cite his sources. "You talk or I'm giving the dog an extra slice of pizza."
"Ray!" But Fraser's eyes are smiling and Ray has completely won this round, knock-out in the first, all over but the crying. "You'll give him hope, not to mention indigestion. He's still claiming to be in a fragile condition."
There's a muffled growl-moan from the corner and Dief peeks his head up from where he's been hiding it, giving Fraser a look that implies that while his condition is very delicate, he's still fine with getting pizza.
"Oh, believe me, we all know your opinion in the matter," Fraser says. "But your stomach is much too sensitive at the moment."
Dief whines, transferring his pleading look over to Ray, who shrugs and glances back at Fraser.
"Well, what's it going to be?" Ray asks, reaching out towards the pizza box. "Your call, Fraser."
"Oh, very well," Fraser says, looking put-out. "Inspector Thatcher wants to have children. And she wants me to be involved in the process."
"Like... a sperm donor?" Ray asks. "Or is that a really scary way of proposing?"
"She wants me to help arrange adoption papers for her," Fraser says, with a strangely vindicated look on his face, like he won some big fluffy prize.
"O...kay," Ray says, shaking away his surprise. Then he blinks, getting it. "Shit, you mean-. Sorry, Frase. You mean she asked you to be involved in 'the process' and then acted like a bitch -- sorry -- acted like you were crazy when you didn't assume 'adoption'."
"I'm sure that her meaning was obvious to her and the Inspector's manner was quite professional and even kind," Fraser says, giving the Ice Queen more benefit of doubt than she's earned in her lifetime. "But, yes, that's essentially the gist of the matter."
"Wow, that sucks," Ray says. "Is that why the-" He signals towards Fraser's hair.
"I'm afraid so," Fraser says, giving Ray a... a rueful smile. "I looked like a prize idiot."
"Nah," Ray says. "She set you up for the fall. 'Sides, apart from me, she's the only one who knows, and neither of us'll be talking, plus I know you're nothing like an idiot."
"I appreciate that, Ray," Fraser says, relaxing for the first time that night and reaching down to snag a slice of pizza. Ray turns back to the TV, grinning when he sees that Fraser changed it to hockey when he wasn't looking, and then settles down with a new piece of pizza, congratulating himself on a job well-done.
Yeah, this partner thing is working out just fine.
~fade to black~