Ficlet: Birthday #1: More Welcome Is the Sweet (due South)
Well. My beloved and hard-working fahye emailed me yesterday asking for stress-relieving things in her inbox, since she is all crazy with her crazy smart school stuff. So I wanted to write a little something in each of the fandoms she and I have in common at the moment, which would have meant three ficlets. But I am weird and anal and seem to think ficcish things must occur in groups of five, and then sdwolfpup asked me for Geoffrey & Anna today since she was also having kind of a rough day, and I decided I would round things out with a little SPN fic for myself, because I haven't written that since January.
Anyway, this is a roundabout way of saying: here is the first of what will eventually be five ficlets in four different fandoms, all centered on birthdays. Which is a bit odd in that it is neither Fahye's birthday nor SDW's birthday nor even my birthday, but hey. These are the ideas my brain comes up with. So.
Birthday #1: More Welcome Is the Sweet. due South, Fraser/Vecchio/Kowalski. PG-13ish, spoilers through "Hunting Season."
Fraser sat at the kitchen table with a mug of tea in front of him, soaking in the morning sun as it filtered through the window and telling himself he felt no sense of anticipation whatsoever.
"It's not as if it's anything special," he informed Diefenbaker, who was sprawled out on the cool floor tiles, keeping a weather eye on Fraser's tea despite a belly full of raw chicken. "The celebration of the anniversary of a birth is a rarity in many cultures, and even though forty years is something of a milestone, Ray and Ray are two very hard-working men and I can hardly expect a ticker-tape parade, now, can I? Of course," he went on, "I might expect a simple morning greeting, but we have all been quite busy lately, and in all the hubbub, I can see where certain small details might be easily overlooked…"
Dief rolled his eyes.
"Oh, shut up," Fraser said sharply, and took a calming sip of his tea.
A few minutes later, Ray shuffled into the kitchen wearing old sweatpants and an even older T-shirt, and made straight for the coffee maker, muttering "coffeecoffeecoffeecoffeecoffee" under his breath the entire way. Fraser smiled fondly; Ray maintained very little distinction between interior and exterior monologue even at the best of times, and first thing in the morning was definitely not his best time. Steaming mug in hand, gulping and wincing repeatedly as the hot coffee hit his throat, he made his way over to the chair across from Fraser and slumped into it, hunched over, his forehead on the smooth polished wood of the table.
"Good morning, Ray," Fraser offered.
"Unh." Ray didn't move his head, but one of his bare feet stretched over to rest his toes on top of Fraser's boot.
His other Ray breezed in then, already fully dressed in a crisp suit; Fraser inhaled deeply to catch the scent of expensive cologne. He had been sorry, at first, that Ray would want to alter his natural scent in any way, but over time, he had come to associate the warm, spicy smell with his partner every bit as much as the distinctive bouquet of his body, all the signs that said Ray and safe and home.
Ray poured coffee into a thermos, left it on the counter while he crossed to run a hand through the other Ray's sleep-tousled hair. "Good morning, starshine."
"Unh," came the response again, slightly more belligerent this time. Ray chuckled and gave him a quick rub on the back of the neck, then came over to kiss Fraser. He lingered over it a bit longer than he normally did, his thumb rubbing gently in the spot just underneath Fraser's ear, and Fraser hummed happily.
"Mornin', Benny," Ray said when he pulled back. Fraser smiled.
"Good morning, Ray."
"Look, I got an early meeting, so Kowalski's gonna give you a ride to the Consulate, OK?" Ray continued, adjusting his badge on his belt with one hand while he grabbed the thermos with the other.
Fraser looked across the table at Ray. Or rather, at the spiky blond mess of Ray's hair, since he still hadn't moved except to nudge his coffee mug a little closer to his head. Then he looked back up at Ray Vecchio, who gave him a shrug and a what-can-you-do? kind of smile.
"Have a good day, Benny," was all he said, "and Kowalski, get your ass in to work or I'm saving all the paperwork for you," and then he was gone, with just a hint of his cologne lingering.
Fraser tried to tamp down the twinge of disappointment in his chest. He'd rarely celebrated his birthday before he had met his Rays, anyway; he could easily forego any festivities this year. And they had all been very busy.
Speaking of which… He checked his watch. "Ray, it's nearly seven-thirty. If we both want to get to work on time, we need to leave soon."
"Unh."
Fraser waited.
"Ray?"
"Uuunnh." Ray's big toe pressed down on Fraser's foot, and he rolled his head a little from side to side on the table.
Fraser hesitated a few seconds, then nodded. "Right. I'll just call Inspector Thatcher, tell her I'll be a bit late."
"Unh," Ray agreed, sounding happier now, and Fraser sighed and went to make his phone call.
*****
When the phone in Fraser's office rang at eleven forty-six, he picked it up slowly and casually. "Constable Benton Fraser."
"Hey, Fraser." Ray Kowalski sounded distracted. "How's things in Canada?"
"Fine, Ray, thank you. How are you? Any…" He trailed off, then, "Anything that might require international assistance?" He kept his tone light, wondering when the last time was that he and his partners had gone three days without consulting together on a case.
"No, thanks, Fraser, we're, uh, we're good. Hey, me an' Vecchio got a thing here to do… right now… so, uh, we gotta…"
There were muffled scuffling sounds on the other end of the line, possibly a smack or two, then Ray Vecchio's voice. "Hey, Benny. What Kowalski's trying to say, in his own special way, is that we can't make lunch. We're swamped here, Welsh has our asses nailed to our chairs."
"Well, I can see where that would be quite uncomfortable." He couldn't quite keep the stiffness out of his voice.
Ray didn't seem to notice. "Yeah, sorry. We'll go to Domini's on Friday, though, make it up to you, OK?"
"Of course, Ray."
"Sandwiches the size of your head, Benny. See you tonight." And the line went dead.
Dief was blinking at him from the corner.
"Did I ask for your input?" Fraser snapped at him. Then he took a deep breath, shoved his chair back, and went to see what culinary experiments Turnbull might have left in the community refrigerator.
*****
Ray was twenty minutes late picking him up; Fraser's jaw was aching with tension by the time he arrived. Which was ridiculous, because he knew that his partners loved him and he loved them, and they all proved that to each other in dozens of small ways every day, so he shouldn't require a grand gesture on his birthday or at any other time to reassure him.
"Sorry," Ray offered when Fraser slid into the passenger seat of the GTO. "Traffic."
"Quite all right," Fraser answered, thinking of his birthday the previous year, the first after they'd all moved in together. Ray Vecchio had called in sick on Fraser's behalf, his voice going unsteady as he'd watched Ray Kowalski lay a slow, wet trail of kisses down Fraser's chest. Eventually he'd choked out a goodbye to Inspector Thatcher and then simply yanked the phone cord out of the wall, joining them on the bed with a growled, "Not fair, Kowalski," and Ray Kowalski had laughed and Ray Vecchio had laughed and Fraser had laughed, too, so happy to have them both there with him that he'd hardly known how to contain it.
And now, only a year later, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he'd done something wrong. He knew he wasn't particularly easy to live with, but he had done his best to compromise, they all had, and Ray and Ray generally seemed happy enough. Was it possible there were signs he was missing? Trios such as theirs were uncommon, but Fraser was well aware that they were none of them exactly common men, for better or for worse, and he'd always taken a certain pride in how smoothly they'd fit together once they'd finally decided to let themselves.
"Hey. Fraser."
He glanced over. Ray was looking at him.
"You OK? You having some kinda weird Mountie episode or something, like where I gotta get you half a pound of pemmican, stat, or you'll pass out?"
Fraser felt his mouth curve up on one side; his chest was aching. "No, Ray. I'm fine." And that was the extent of their conversation the rest of the way home.
*****
Diefenbaker pressed his nose against Fraser's hand with a soft whine as they all made their way up the stairs to their apartment.
"It's all right, Dief," Fraser told him quietly, too quietly for Ray to hear. Ray, who was bouncing a little every other step or so, clearly oblivious to Fraser's mood. Which was good, Fraser thought, following him down the hallway; no sense in his melancholy ruining the day for everyone. Maybe that had been his mistake in the past, maybe that was how they'd gotten here in the first place, where his partners would rather avoid him than be subjected to his changeable emotional state.
Ray had his key in the door now, his head ducked so that Fraser couldn't read his expression. Then the door swung open and Fraser found himself confronted with a sea of grinning faces, a loud cheer ringing in his ears.
He just stood in the doorway for long seconds, stunned, his mind spinning to catch up with the rapid shift in trajectory, while Diefenbaker waded immediately into the crowd and started nosing at plates. Fraser could smell oregano and rosemary and cooking meat.
"Come on, come on," Ray said, tugging on his arm, and Fraser let himself be pulled inside.
Their apartment was on the small side to begin with-even three salaries didn't go very far in the city-and it was filled to the brim with laughter and music, not to mention half the officers from the precinct, most of the Consulate employees, a fair representation of their current neighbors, and even some of Fraser's old neighbors from his building on Racine. There were Vecchios of various ages peppered throughout, including Francesca and Ray's mother over near the window, chatting amiably with Mr. and Mrs. Kowalski. And then the particular Vecchio that Fraser was looking for appeared out of the throng at his side, smiling warmly and wearing a "Kiss the Cook" apron over his shirt and slacks.
"Happy birthday, Benny."
Fraser couldn't muster up more than a shell-shocked smile before he was enveloped in a strong hug and the smell of woodsmoke.
"Happy birthday, Ben," said a female voice in his ear, and he laughed in pure delight and hugged back.
"Maggie!" He held his sister close for a moment, then let her go with a degree of reluctance that still surprised him a bit. He hadn't seen her in months. She stood there smiling a little shyly at him, and he felt himself grinning like an idiot, gave her a rough pat on the shoulder.
"Man, you shoulda seen his face on the way home," Ray Kowalski was saying next to him, an open beer bottle having materialized in his hand at some point. "Looked like the Queen had insulted his posture or something. Saddest thing I've ever seen."
Ray Vecchio laughed and slung an arm around the other man's neck. "Sorry, Benny. I practically had to tape his mouth shut to keep him from spilling the beans, couldn't take any chances."
"Yeah, like you don't got a big mouth," Ray drawled back, then smiled slow when Ray raised a suggestive eyebrow at him.
"So. Good surprise?" Maggie asked, her grey eyes bright. "I wasn't sure, but it was their idea."
Fraser looked at her, then looked back and forth between his two Rays, his heart so full he was having trouble breathing. "I… Ray…"
"Hey, Kowalski, I think he likes us," Ray said into his speechlessness, leaning close to his partner's ear. They were both grinning.
"Y'know, Vecchio, I think you might be right."
"Maybe later we'll let him show us how much," Ray went on, his grin going wicked, and Ray Kowalski laughed low and Maggie rolled her eyes and said,
"I'm sleeping in the hall," and Diefenbaker barked and stole a meatball off her plate and Fraser stretched all of his senses as far as he possibly could, determined not to miss a single thing.
Anyway, this is a roundabout way of saying: here is the first of what will eventually be five ficlets in four different fandoms, all centered on birthdays. Which is a bit odd in that it is neither Fahye's birthday nor SDW's birthday nor even my birthday, but hey. These are the ideas my brain comes up with. So.
Birthday #1: More Welcome Is the Sweet. due South, Fraser/Vecchio/Kowalski. PG-13ish, spoilers through "Hunting Season."
Fraser sat at the kitchen table with a mug of tea in front of him, soaking in the morning sun as it filtered through the window and telling himself he felt no sense of anticipation whatsoever.
"It's not as if it's anything special," he informed Diefenbaker, who was sprawled out on the cool floor tiles, keeping a weather eye on Fraser's tea despite a belly full of raw chicken. "The celebration of the anniversary of a birth is a rarity in many cultures, and even though forty years is something of a milestone, Ray and Ray are two very hard-working men and I can hardly expect a ticker-tape parade, now, can I? Of course," he went on, "I might expect a simple morning greeting, but we have all been quite busy lately, and in all the hubbub, I can see where certain small details might be easily overlooked…"
Dief rolled his eyes.
"Oh, shut up," Fraser said sharply, and took a calming sip of his tea.
A few minutes later, Ray shuffled into the kitchen wearing old sweatpants and an even older T-shirt, and made straight for the coffee maker, muttering "coffeecoffeecoffeecoffeecoffee" under his breath the entire way. Fraser smiled fondly; Ray maintained very little distinction between interior and exterior monologue even at the best of times, and first thing in the morning was definitely not his best time. Steaming mug in hand, gulping and wincing repeatedly as the hot coffee hit his throat, he made his way over to the chair across from Fraser and slumped into it, hunched over, his forehead on the smooth polished wood of the table.
"Good morning, Ray," Fraser offered.
"Unh." Ray didn't move his head, but one of his bare feet stretched over to rest his toes on top of Fraser's boot.
His other Ray breezed in then, already fully dressed in a crisp suit; Fraser inhaled deeply to catch the scent of expensive cologne. He had been sorry, at first, that Ray would want to alter his natural scent in any way, but over time, he had come to associate the warm, spicy smell with his partner every bit as much as the distinctive bouquet of his body, all the signs that said Ray and safe and home.
Ray poured coffee into a thermos, left it on the counter while he crossed to run a hand through the other Ray's sleep-tousled hair. "Good morning, starshine."
"Unh," came the response again, slightly more belligerent this time. Ray chuckled and gave him a quick rub on the back of the neck, then came over to kiss Fraser. He lingered over it a bit longer than he normally did, his thumb rubbing gently in the spot just underneath Fraser's ear, and Fraser hummed happily.
"Mornin', Benny," Ray said when he pulled back. Fraser smiled.
"Good morning, Ray."
"Look, I got an early meeting, so Kowalski's gonna give you a ride to the Consulate, OK?" Ray continued, adjusting his badge on his belt with one hand while he grabbed the thermos with the other.
Fraser looked across the table at Ray. Or rather, at the spiky blond mess of Ray's hair, since he still hadn't moved except to nudge his coffee mug a little closer to his head. Then he looked back up at Ray Vecchio, who gave him a shrug and a what-can-you-do? kind of smile.
"Have a good day, Benny," was all he said, "and Kowalski, get your ass in to work or I'm saving all the paperwork for you," and then he was gone, with just a hint of his cologne lingering.
Fraser tried to tamp down the twinge of disappointment in his chest. He'd rarely celebrated his birthday before he had met his Rays, anyway; he could easily forego any festivities this year. And they had all been very busy.
Speaking of which… He checked his watch. "Ray, it's nearly seven-thirty. If we both want to get to work on time, we need to leave soon."
"Unh."
Fraser waited.
"Ray?"
"Uuunnh." Ray's big toe pressed down on Fraser's foot, and he rolled his head a little from side to side on the table.
Fraser hesitated a few seconds, then nodded. "Right. I'll just call Inspector Thatcher, tell her I'll be a bit late."
"Unh," Ray agreed, sounding happier now, and Fraser sighed and went to make his phone call.
*****
When the phone in Fraser's office rang at eleven forty-six, he picked it up slowly and casually. "Constable Benton Fraser."
"Hey, Fraser." Ray Kowalski sounded distracted. "How's things in Canada?"
"Fine, Ray, thank you. How are you? Any…" He trailed off, then, "Anything that might require international assistance?" He kept his tone light, wondering when the last time was that he and his partners had gone three days without consulting together on a case.
"No, thanks, Fraser, we're, uh, we're good. Hey, me an' Vecchio got a thing here to do… right now… so, uh, we gotta…"
There were muffled scuffling sounds on the other end of the line, possibly a smack or two, then Ray Vecchio's voice. "Hey, Benny. What Kowalski's trying to say, in his own special way, is that we can't make lunch. We're swamped here, Welsh has our asses nailed to our chairs."
"Well, I can see where that would be quite uncomfortable." He couldn't quite keep the stiffness out of his voice.
Ray didn't seem to notice. "Yeah, sorry. We'll go to Domini's on Friday, though, make it up to you, OK?"
"Of course, Ray."
"Sandwiches the size of your head, Benny. See you tonight." And the line went dead.
Dief was blinking at him from the corner.
"Did I ask for your input?" Fraser snapped at him. Then he took a deep breath, shoved his chair back, and went to see what culinary experiments Turnbull might have left in the community refrigerator.
*****
Ray was twenty minutes late picking him up; Fraser's jaw was aching with tension by the time he arrived. Which was ridiculous, because he knew that his partners loved him and he loved them, and they all proved that to each other in dozens of small ways every day, so he shouldn't require a grand gesture on his birthday or at any other time to reassure him.
"Sorry," Ray offered when Fraser slid into the passenger seat of the GTO. "Traffic."
"Quite all right," Fraser answered, thinking of his birthday the previous year, the first after they'd all moved in together. Ray Vecchio had called in sick on Fraser's behalf, his voice going unsteady as he'd watched Ray Kowalski lay a slow, wet trail of kisses down Fraser's chest. Eventually he'd choked out a goodbye to Inspector Thatcher and then simply yanked the phone cord out of the wall, joining them on the bed with a growled, "Not fair, Kowalski," and Ray Kowalski had laughed and Ray Vecchio had laughed and Fraser had laughed, too, so happy to have them both there with him that he'd hardly known how to contain it.
And now, only a year later, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he'd done something wrong. He knew he wasn't particularly easy to live with, but he had done his best to compromise, they all had, and Ray and Ray generally seemed happy enough. Was it possible there were signs he was missing? Trios such as theirs were uncommon, but Fraser was well aware that they were none of them exactly common men, for better or for worse, and he'd always taken a certain pride in how smoothly they'd fit together once they'd finally decided to let themselves.
"Hey. Fraser."
He glanced over. Ray was looking at him.
"You OK? You having some kinda weird Mountie episode or something, like where I gotta get you half a pound of pemmican, stat, or you'll pass out?"
Fraser felt his mouth curve up on one side; his chest was aching. "No, Ray. I'm fine." And that was the extent of their conversation the rest of the way home.
*****
Diefenbaker pressed his nose against Fraser's hand with a soft whine as they all made their way up the stairs to their apartment.
"It's all right, Dief," Fraser told him quietly, too quietly for Ray to hear. Ray, who was bouncing a little every other step or so, clearly oblivious to Fraser's mood. Which was good, Fraser thought, following him down the hallway; no sense in his melancholy ruining the day for everyone. Maybe that had been his mistake in the past, maybe that was how they'd gotten here in the first place, where his partners would rather avoid him than be subjected to his changeable emotional state.
Ray had his key in the door now, his head ducked so that Fraser couldn't read his expression. Then the door swung open and Fraser found himself confronted with a sea of grinning faces, a loud cheer ringing in his ears.
He just stood in the doorway for long seconds, stunned, his mind spinning to catch up with the rapid shift in trajectory, while Diefenbaker waded immediately into the crowd and started nosing at plates. Fraser could smell oregano and rosemary and cooking meat.
"Come on, come on," Ray said, tugging on his arm, and Fraser let himself be pulled inside.
Their apartment was on the small side to begin with-even three salaries didn't go very far in the city-and it was filled to the brim with laughter and music, not to mention half the officers from the precinct, most of the Consulate employees, a fair representation of their current neighbors, and even some of Fraser's old neighbors from his building on Racine. There were Vecchios of various ages peppered throughout, including Francesca and Ray's mother over near the window, chatting amiably with Mr. and Mrs. Kowalski. And then the particular Vecchio that Fraser was looking for appeared out of the throng at his side, smiling warmly and wearing a "Kiss the Cook" apron over his shirt and slacks.
"Happy birthday, Benny."
Fraser couldn't muster up more than a shell-shocked smile before he was enveloped in a strong hug and the smell of woodsmoke.
"Happy birthday, Ben," said a female voice in his ear, and he laughed in pure delight and hugged back.
"Maggie!" He held his sister close for a moment, then let her go with a degree of reluctance that still surprised him a bit. He hadn't seen her in months. She stood there smiling a little shyly at him, and he felt himself grinning like an idiot, gave her a rough pat on the shoulder.
"Man, you shoulda seen his face on the way home," Ray Kowalski was saying next to him, an open beer bottle having materialized in his hand at some point. "Looked like the Queen had insulted his posture or something. Saddest thing I've ever seen."
Ray Vecchio laughed and slung an arm around the other man's neck. "Sorry, Benny. I practically had to tape his mouth shut to keep him from spilling the beans, couldn't take any chances."
"Yeah, like you don't got a big mouth," Ray drawled back, then smiled slow when Ray raised a suggestive eyebrow at him.
"So. Good surprise?" Maggie asked, her grey eyes bright. "I wasn't sure, but it was their idea."
Fraser looked at her, then looked back and forth between his two Rays, his heart so full he was having trouble breathing. "I… Ray…"
"Hey, Kowalski, I think he likes us," Ray said into his speechlessness, leaning close to his partner's ear. They were both grinning.
"Y'know, Vecchio, I think you might be right."
"Maybe later we'll let him show us how much," Ray went on, his grin going wicked, and Ray Kowalski laughed low and Maggie rolled her eyes and said,
"I'm sleeping in the hall," and Diefenbaker barked and stole a meatball off her plate and Fraser stretched all of his senses as far as he possibly could, determined not to miss a single thing.