This Error
Title: This Error
Author: Pares and Laura Shapiro
Pairing: F/V
Rating: NC-17
Length: medium
Why I'm reccing this fic: Okay, this is more of a "lean-to" fic, than a "tent" fic, but hey - they're camping! I was a complete F/K fangirl when I first found due South, and the couple of F/V stories I read just reinforced this. Until I stumbled upon "This Error" and realised that Ray and Benny could be real, could be sharp and bitter and sweet without being cloying.
Ray turned toward him, his eyes bright and hard.
"I'm on to you, Mr. Perfect. You're not Superman. Nobody
can be that guy every day of the week and twice on
Sundays. I know you bleed. Maybe even cry. And sometimes
I'd like to know I'm on the inside, okay? That I'll get
to see you when you...need something." Ray stopped, then
turned away. "I'm not explaining it right," he sighed.
"You feel that I am not revealing my true self to you."
Saying it, Fraser felt his former stiffness come back to
him. He straightened his spine and drew his hand away.
Ray closed a hand around his retreating wrist. "Don't be
like that. I mean, why can't you let somebody help *you*
once in a while? Don't you ever want that?"
"Ray..." And Fraser was truly baffled. "You have come to
my aid more times than I can count. You help me..." he
cast about for the right thing to say. "Every day!"
"Aw, that's hero crap. Sidekick stuff. Come on, you know
what I mean. You're just playing dumb." And Ray released
his wrist and stared off into the sheltered darkness of
the lean-to. Fraser was rudderless and agog. This was a
level of emotion Ray had only hinted at, and now there it
was in the open. Naked. Raw.
This Error
Author: Pares and Laura Shapiro
Pairing: F/V
Rating: NC-17
Length: medium
Why I'm reccing this fic: Okay, this is more of a "lean-to" fic, than a "tent" fic, but hey - they're camping! I was a complete F/K fangirl when I first found due South, and the couple of F/V stories I read just reinforced this. Until I stumbled upon "This Error" and realised that Ray and Benny could be real, could be sharp and bitter and sweet without being cloying.
Ray turned toward him, his eyes bright and hard.
"I'm on to you, Mr. Perfect. You're not Superman. Nobody
can be that guy every day of the week and twice on
Sundays. I know you bleed. Maybe even cry. And sometimes
I'd like to know I'm on the inside, okay? That I'll get
to see you when you...need something." Ray stopped, then
turned away. "I'm not explaining it right," he sighed.
"You feel that I am not revealing my true self to you."
Saying it, Fraser felt his former stiffness come back to
him. He straightened his spine and drew his hand away.
Ray closed a hand around his retreating wrist. "Don't be
like that. I mean, why can't you let somebody help *you*
once in a while? Don't you ever want that?"
"Ray..." And Fraser was truly baffled. "You have come to
my aid more times than I can count. You help me..." he
cast about for the right thing to say. "Every day!"
"Aw, that's hero crap. Sidekick stuff. Come on, you know
what I mean. You're just playing dumb." And Ray released
his wrist and stared off into the sheltered darkness of
the lean-to. Fraser was rudderless and agog. This was a
level of emotion Ray had only hinted at, and now there it
was in the open. Naked. Raw.
This Error