FIC: Knife, 1/1, PG-13
Title: Knife
Author: Tara Keezer
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: due South/Battlestar Galactica crossover
Notes: There’s something about Fraser and Leoben in conflict with one another that just gives me the willies. Rather than keep them to myself, I’ve decided to share. Word count is at 200, and there may be related ficlets, depending on whether or not this one cleared my head of the two.
~~
Fraser sat at the dining table and stared at the food in front of him. He didn’t look up when Leoben sat down.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” Leoben speared a small carrot with his fork and ate it slowly, savoring the taste of planet-grown food. “Is what I’m asking of you so terrible?”
Fraser didn’t answer and instead, he asked a question of his own. “How long will you leave my knife like this?”
Leoben cocked his head. “How long would you prefer?”
“I would prefer it come out immediately,” Fraser said. A single bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face.
“All you had to do was ask.” Leoben sliced off a small piece of meat and chewed it carefully before putting his knife and fork down. He stood and walked around the table, stopping to Fraser’s right before bending down to whisper, “All you ever have to do is ask me for something, Benton, and I’ll give it to you.”
Fraser continued to stare at his food, as if his right hand weren’t pinned to the table by a fifteen-centimeter blade. Leoben kissed Fraser’s temple gently. “This may hurt a little, coming out.”
Author: Tara Keezer
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: due South/Battlestar Galactica crossover
Notes: There’s something about Fraser and Leoben in conflict with one another that just gives me the willies. Rather than keep them to myself, I’ve decided to share. Word count is at 200, and there may be related ficlets, depending on whether or not this one cleared my head of the two.
~~
Fraser sat at the dining table and stared at the food in front of him. He didn’t look up when Leoben sat down.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” Leoben speared a small carrot with his fork and ate it slowly, savoring the taste of planet-grown food. “Is what I’m asking of you so terrible?”
Fraser didn’t answer and instead, he asked a question of his own. “How long will you leave my knife like this?”
Leoben cocked his head. “How long would you prefer?”
“I would prefer it come out immediately,” Fraser said. A single bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face.
“All you had to do was ask.” Leoben sliced off a small piece of meat and chewed it carefully before putting his knife and fork down. He stood and walked around the table, stopping to Fraser’s right before bending down to whisper, “All you ever have to do is ask me for something, Benton, and I’ll give it to you.”
Fraser continued to stare at his food, as if his right hand weren’t pinned to the table by a fifteen-centimeter blade. Leoben kissed Fraser’s temple gently. “This may hurt a little, coming out.”