Bust a Gut Challenge - "Making the Scene", "Gun, with Occasional Kangaroo: A Love Story", "Detail"
Title: Making the Scene
Author: joandarck
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: PG
Length: 2725 words
Why I'm reccing this fic: Undercover in a gay bar cliche, with an absolutely hysterical deadpan Fraser. Do not attempt to eat or drink while reading. The arts are no joke, friend.
"One other thing though. This is a, uh, a gay bar. They have those up north?"
Fraser made an interested sort of high hrming noise, before saying, "Drinking establishments for a primarily homosexual clientele. Certainly. Not, granted, in the less urban areas, as there isn't the population density to support any sort of special interest venue. Although there was one attempt to open up part of the Senior Center in Moose Jaw as a gay-friendly dance hall on alternate Saturday nights. I'm afraid there were arguments about the music." He shook his head. "Didn't end well."
"Don't wanna to hear about it."
"I was called in to contain a very ugly - well, let's just say you'd never look at bingo cards the same way again."
Making the Scene
Title: Gun, with Occasional Kangaroo: A Love Story
Author: Punk
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: PG
Length: 76k
Why I'm reccing this fic: Well, there's this kangaroo, see, and Dief, well, he ... it ... I ... it's all really ... I just can't describe it. Despite the plotting marsupial, the story's not actually crack.
"Ka-ching!" Ray sat up, making the international hand signal for money. To Fraser, unversed as he was in the language, it looked more like Ray was piloting an invisible tugboat or perhaps milking a goat.
"What's wrong with the Yank?" Bob Fraser asked from the backseat.
"I can't say."
"Is it a distress signal? Do you think he's choking?"
"On what?" Fraser scoffed.
Ray glanced over at him. "You can't say on what?"
"I can't say that I've ever seen that particular gesture before," Fraser said smoothly. "What is it meant to represent?"
"Money, you know, like--" Ray demonstrated a few variations until it lost all meaning and he wasn't even sure what he was doing anymore, then he stopped. "I don't know."
"Ah," said Fraser.
"Maybe he hit his head," his father offered. "Check his eyes."
Dief hated it when the dead guy came along.
Gun, with Occasional Kangaroo: A Love Story
Title: Detail
Author: sisterofdream
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: G
Length: 6800 words
Why I'm reccing this fic: This Team Reality entry shines a loving spotlight on the absurdities of due South canon. Perfectly in character. Perfectly ridiculous. I've read it half a dozen times in the last month, and every time, I laugh my ass off.
Monday - 3:50 pm
“I don’t remember the authorization of any sort of surveillance equipment on this case, detective.”
“Yeah. Didn’t use any. Fraser overheard the conversation.” Ray scratched at his neck and kept his eyes trained about a foot above the Lieutenant’s head.
“You overheard it?” With a small spin in his chair, Lieutenant Welsh leaned back and focused all his attention on Fraser. Something in the Lieutenant’s eyes made Fraser immediately move from parade rest to stand at attention. Ray, on the other hand, visibly relaxed with the change of target.
“That’s correct, sir.”
“You overheard Finn O’Donnell directly discussing his role in the distribution of Class A narcotics … in a bank vault?”
“Once again, sir, that is correct.”
“Detective, Constable, the universe in which this holds up in court simply does not exist.” Fraser began to object, but was stopped at the second syllable by a small wave from the Lieutenant. “Constable, nobody in their right mind is going to believe you, and it does not speak well to my mental state that I do. Detective, I think it’s time to talk to the ASA, see if we can get some actual evidence of one of these meetings.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent. You now have permission to go solve crimes.”
Detail
Author: joandarck
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: PG
Length: 2725 words
Why I'm reccing this fic: Undercover in a gay bar cliche, with an absolutely hysterical deadpan Fraser. Do not attempt to eat or drink while reading. The arts are no joke, friend.
"One other thing though. This is a, uh, a gay bar. They have those up north?"
Fraser made an interested sort of high hrming noise, before saying, "Drinking establishments for a primarily homosexual clientele. Certainly. Not, granted, in the less urban areas, as there isn't the population density to support any sort of special interest venue. Although there was one attempt to open up part of the Senior Center in Moose Jaw as a gay-friendly dance hall on alternate Saturday nights. I'm afraid there were arguments about the music." He shook his head. "Didn't end well."
"Don't wanna to hear about it."
"I was called in to contain a very ugly - well, let's just say you'd never look at bingo cards the same way again."
Making the Scene
Title: Gun, with Occasional Kangaroo: A Love Story
Author: Punk
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: PG
Length: 76k
Why I'm reccing this fic: Well, there's this kangaroo, see, and Dief, well, he ... it ... I ... it's all really ... I just can't describe it. Despite the plotting marsupial, the story's not actually crack.
"Ka-ching!" Ray sat up, making the international hand signal for money. To Fraser, unversed as he was in the language, it looked more like Ray was piloting an invisible tugboat or perhaps milking a goat.
"What's wrong with the Yank?" Bob Fraser asked from the backseat.
"I can't say."
"Is it a distress signal? Do you think he's choking?"
"On what?" Fraser scoffed.
Ray glanced over at him. "You can't say on what?"
"I can't say that I've ever seen that particular gesture before," Fraser said smoothly. "What is it meant to represent?"
"Money, you know, like--" Ray demonstrated a few variations until it lost all meaning and he wasn't even sure what he was doing anymore, then he stopped. "I don't know."
"Ah," said Fraser.
"Maybe he hit his head," his father offered. "Check his eyes."
Dief hated it when the dead guy came along.
Gun, with Occasional Kangaroo: A Love Story
Title: Detail
Author: sisterofdream
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: G
Length: 6800 words
Why I'm reccing this fic: This Team Reality entry shines a loving spotlight on the absurdities of due South canon. Perfectly in character. Perfectly ridiculous. I've read it half a dozen times in the last month, and every time, I laugh my ass off.
Monday - 3:50 pm
“I don’t remember the authorization of any sort of surveillance equipment on this case, detective.”
“Yeah. Didn’t use any. Fraser overheard the conversation.” Ray scratched at his neck and kept his eyes trained about a foot above the Lieutenant’s head.
“You overheard it?” With a small spin in his chair, Lieutenant Welsh leaned back and focused all his attention on Fraser. Something in the Lieutenant’s eyes made Fraser immediately move from parade rest to stand at attention. Ray, on the other hand, visibly relaxed with the change of target.
“That’s correct, sir.”
“You overheard Finn O’Donnell directly discussing his role in the distribution of Class A narcotics … in a bank vault?”
“Once again, sir, that is correct.”
“Detective, Constable, the universe in which this holds up in court simply does not exist.” Fraser began to object, but was stopped at the second syllable by a small wave from the Lieutenant. “Constable, nobody in their right mind is going to believe you, and it does not speak well to my mental state that I do. Detective, I think it’s time to talk to the ASA, see if we can get some actual evidence of one of these meetings.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent. You now have permission to go solve crimes.”
Detail