keys jingled, keys returned
Sep. 16th, 2003 04:12 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
wildmachinery.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfiction736 words of break-up angst for the key challenge. Much to my dismay, it turned out to be completely gen and lacking in Fraser-y goodness. But at least there's a set of keys in there somewhere ...
When she looks up, he's standing before her desk, in the wide-legged stance and black jeans that always made her crazy.
Used to make her crazy. She closes the file she's working on.
"Just tell me why, Stell."
She doesn't ask him what he's talking about. His eyes, the set of his jaw, the way he's standing there, all tell her that he's spoiling for a fight. Besides, she knows what he means, and it makes a tired sort of irritation flare up in her chest. What the hell is she supposed to say? What can she say that hasn't already been said, that will make him understand? That she doesn't want him to leave, but she can't stand the fighting anymore? She's not even sure what they're fighting about most of the time now, for God's sake. How is she supposed to explain it to him when she can't explain it to herself?
"Because it's what I need, Ray."
"Jesus Christ." His jaw clenches; he tosses his head like a skittish horse. "That is so goddamn selfish, Stella."
He's echoing her thoughts, the dark, nasty, deep-down thoughts that she tries to keep hidden from herself, because when you come right down to it, it is selfish. It's the most selfish thing she's ever heard, but she knows it's true. For herself, she's got to leave, and she won't die if she doesn't, not really. But it'll feel like it, because she'll be lying to Ray, and that's something she never wants to do again. Because she still loves him and she's old enough to know that it doesn't solve anything.
"You're right." She's cut him off, and the look of surprise on his face would almost be funny if the whole situation wasn't so damned painful. "You're right, it is selfish, but it's true, Ray. I can't be your girl anymore because I'm just not that girl anymore; I grew up and I can't be her anymore, I just can't-" She presses her lips together, swipes a hand over her eyes, and takes a deep breath, centering. When she looks back up at him, her face is calm. "We've had this conversation before, Ray, and I refuse to continue it in my office. If that was the only reason you came, I'm going to have to suggest that you leave now."
It's awful, how cold she feels talking to him now, but it's the only way she can keep from screaming. Or crying. It never used to be like this.
Ray looks at her with kicked puppies in his eyes and the posture of a deflating moonbounce, and gives her a tiny half-try at a smile. "You outgrew me, huh?" She'd expected him to explode once she'd asked him to leave. Instead, he shoves his hands in his pockets and casts his eyes to the floor, scuffing at the carpet with the toe of his boot. It tears at her. "S'as good a reason as any, I guess." He looks back up at her and tugs a hand out of his pocket. "I actually came to give these back to you." He drops something semi-casually on her desk. "Just got a little sidetracked."
It's unnerving, how calm he's being about this, and it takes her a few seconds to figure out that he's giving her the keys to their apartment.
"I found a new place ... told 'em to give me a few days before I signed the lease."
She's only half-listening to him. She can't stop thinking about their apartment. Her apartment. The way that key in front of her would always stick in the top lock. The couch that was too small to hold both of them if they fell asleep, so one of them would always wake up with one cheek reddened by the carpet. The window in their bedroom that seemed to be fused shut from the day they moved in.
She thanks him, dazed but still polite, and watches him walk out slowly with all that hurt still in his eyes.
It never used to be like this.
Well, it's her apartment now. She'll ask Ray if he wants that damn couch, chuck it if he doesn't, and start looking for a new place when this case is over. It'll be good for her, a fresh start. No reminders.
She leaves the keys where they lie, and reopens her file.
-end-
When she looks up, he's standing before her desk, in the wide-legged stance and black jeans that always made her crazy.
Used to make her crazy. She closes the file she's working on.
"Just tell me why, Stell."
She doesn't ask him what he's talking about. His eyes, the set of his jaw, the way he's standing there, all tell her that he's spoiling for a fight. Besides, she knows what he means, and it makes a tired sort of irritation flare up in her chest. What the hell is she supposed to say? What can she say that hasn't already been said, that will make him understand? That she doesn't want him to leave, but she can't stand the fighting anymore? She's not even sure what they're fighting about most of the time now, for God's sake. How is she supposed to explain it to him when she can't explain it to herself?
"Because it's what I need, Ray."
"Jesus Christ." His jaw clenches; he tosses his head like a skittish horse. "That is so goddamn selfish, Stella."
He's echoing her thoughts, the dark, nasty, deep-down thoughts that she tries to keep hidden from herself, because when you come right down to it, it is selfish. It's the most selfish thing she's ever heard, but she knows it's true. For herself, she's got to leave, and she won't die if she doesn't, not really. But it'll feel like it, because she'll be lying to Ray, and that's something she never wants to do again. Because she still loves him and she's old enough to know that it doesn't solve anything.
"You're right." She's cut him off, and the look of surprise on his face would almost be funny if the whole situation wasn't so damned painful. "You're right, it is selfish, but it's true, Ray. I can't be your girl anymore because I'm just not that girl anymore; I grew up and I can't be her anymore, I just can't-" She presses her lips together, swipes a hand over her eyes, and takes a deep breath, centering. When she looks back up at him, her face is calm. "We've had this conversation before, Ray, and I refuse to continue it in my office. If that was the only reason you came, I'm going to have to suggest that you leave now."
It's awful, how cold she feels talking to him now, but it's the only way she can keep from screaming. Or crying. It never used to be like this.
Ray looks at her with kicked puppies in his eyes and the posture of a deflating moonbounce, and gives her a tiny half-try at a smile. "You outgrew me, huh?" She'd expected him to explode once she'd asked him to leave. Instead, he shoves his hands in his pockets and casts his eyes to the floor, scuffing at the carpet with the toe of his boot. It tears at her. "S'as good a reason as any, I guess." He looks back up at her and tugs a hand out of his pocket. "I actually came to give these back to you." He drops something semi-casually on her desk. "Just got a little sidetracked."
It's unnerving, how calm he's being about this, and it takes her a few seconds to figure out that he's giving her the keys to their apartment.
"I found a new place ... told 'em to give me a few days before I signed the lease."
She's only half-listening to him. She can't stop thinking about their apartment. Her apartment. The way that key in front of her would always stick in the top lock. The couch that was too small to hold both of them if they fell asleep, so one of them would always wake up with one cheek reddened by the carpet. The window in their bedroom that seemed to be fused shut from the day they moved in.
She thanks him, dazed but still polite, and watches him walk out slowly with all that hurt still in his eyes.
It never used to be like this.
Well, it's her apartment now. She'll ask Ray if he wants that damn couch, chuck it if he doesn't, and start looking for a new place when this case is over. It'll be good for her, a fresh start. No reminders.
She leaves the keys where they lie, and reopens her file.
-end-
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-09-16 08:32 pm (UTC)I did miss Frasery goodness, but hey, gen can be good.
::watching friends keel over in shock::
no subject
Date: 2003-09-18 06:05 am (UTC)-mercy
no subject
Date: 2003-09-16 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-18 06:07 am (UTC)Thank you kindly. :-)
-mercy
no subject
Date: 2003-09-16 08:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-18 06:09 am (UTC)-mercy
no subject
Date: 2003-09-16 09:40 pm (UTC)poor ray...
no subject
Date: 2003-09-18 06:10 am (UTC)-mercy
no subject
Date: 2003-09-18 06:15 am (UTC)Thanks for reading.
-mercy
no subject
Date: 2003-09-16 10:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-18 06:16 am (UTC)-mercy
no subject
Date: 2003-09-16 10:43 pm (UTC)That caught that jittery, physical Ray-ness perfectly.
I've always thought that it's Ray and Fraser's pasts that make them wonderful characters. They don't just have baggage, they have a baggage train.
no subject
Date: 2003-09-18 06:18 am (UTC)That's just one of those phrases that will stick in my head forever. :-) Glad you liked it.
-mercy
no subject
Date: 2003-09-17 01:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-18 06:20 am (UTC)-mercy
no subject
Date: 2003-09-17 01:15 pm (UTC)Nice stretching of vocab. I love when writer do that.
Instead, he shoves his hands in his pockets and casts his eyes to the floor, scuffing at the carpet with the toe of his boot. It tears at her. "S'as good a reason as any, I guess."
Poor Ray! Someone give him a hug. I nominate Fraser.
no subject
Date: 2003-09-18 06:23 am (UTC)Thanks for reading.
-mercy
Bittersweet and thoughtful
Date: 2003-09-21 04:17 pm (UTC)"kicked puppies in his eyes"
I felt bad for both Stella and Ray and you managed to convince me that DS fic can be captivating without Fraserey goodness.
Re: Bittersweet and thoughtful
Date: 2003-09-23 04:42 am (UTC)Nice icon, by the way.
Re: Bittersweet and thoughtful
Date: 2003-09-23 04:18 pm (UTC)Write more, doggonit!
I have a few snippets that are in desperately need of a second opinion. Hint, hint.
Ack, POV.
NoooooOOOOOooo. Not the Kowalski tapes. That comes under the headings of cruel and unusual punishment, I should think.
Re: Bittersweet and thoughtful
Date: 2003-09-24 05:45 am (UTC)Yes. The Kowalski tapes. ::glares meaningfully:: Write!
no subject
Date: 2003-09-22 08:33 pm (UTC)I love Ray here. Trying to do the right thing, trying not to be an asshole. But he fights, because it's what he does, it's what he's good at. Fights for what he wants, but he gives in, because he loves her too much to make her so unhappy.
So, so well done here. Nice.
no subject
Date: 2003-09-23 06:46 am (UTC)Lovely compliments. Thank you very kindly.
-mercy