Door Challenge
Oct. 9th, 2003 06:56 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
auburnnothenna.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfiction856 words. Written before dinner. This is either an excerpt or an out take from a larger piece I'm currently working on.
I really wanted to do something with long johns and trapdoors, but nada. Instead, this.
In a Hallway
I stopped outside the door to my hotel room. Was I really doing this?
Fraser stood beside me and I knew if I changed my mind he'd never say another word about it. He'd go on being my friend, while I went on being a coward.
Besides, it wasn't the sex I was a afraid of.
Nope, it was the other thing. The love thing.
That scared me.
I'd just spent a month on a fishing trawler, alternately praying I wouldn't get swept overboard and feeling so sick I half wished I would. I smelled like smelt. My beard itched. I had to be one of the most unattractive prospects to ever make a pass, but Fraser hadn't seemed bothered. Anyone who wanted to go to bed with me right now had to be in love.
Love's the scariest thing there is. Standing up unarmed against some creep with a gun doesn't even compare. That's why I hadn't been willing to take the chance.
I didn't want to get hurt again.
I sure as hell didn't want to hurt Fraser, either.
So we parted ways, but it didn't work, and when I saw him on the dock, I almost fell apart in front of half a dozen Alaska State Troopers, half the fishing fleet, a couple of tourists and a seal.
I stumbled off the boat and over to him and Fraser hugged me right there on the pier. It felt like coming home. It felt like everything I'd needed and lost when I went back to Chicago. It felt like being alive again.
It felt like love.
That was a couple of hours ago, because it took that long to straighten out why a Chicago detective was arresting a Canadian smuggler in Alaska. I had to explain about being undercover and how this guy that worked for one of the big oil companies was bringing Mexican heroin into Canada, then transferring it from fishing trawlers to an outfit that shipped the catch south into the States. Just explaining it all made my head ache. The cop in charge seemed pretty impressed though, especially when I showed him where there was 5 kilos of brown tar heroin in the boat's hold. My suspect was now locked up and lawyered up in the local jail and all I had to do until tomorrow was get a shower and some sleep.
And talk to Fraser.
Except neither of us were really thinking about talking once we went through this door.
"Ray, are we going to go in?" Fraser asked me.
"Yeah, just a minute."
I looked at him. Just looked at him for a long moment. Mr. Picture Perfect Mountie. Except he isn't and I wouldn't love him if he was. There was a loose thread at the shoulder of his brown uniform, which I only saw because I was staring at him so hard. It'd been a long day and he could have used a shave, though not as bad I could. His hair was a touch longer than regulation and there was a thread or two of grey in it. The crinkles around his eyes were deeper. He wasn't a kid anymore, not that he was when we met either.
It's safe to say Fraser's old enough to know what he wants, just like I am.
He's made it pretty clear more than once that what he wants is me.
Every time, I've made some excuse, found some reason why we couldn't, though I never lied and said I didn't want to. Only now, standing so close I can hear him breathing, I have to believe that none of that matters. I'll deal. Later. I'll figure out something.
"You know this ain't a fairy tale, Fraser, right?"
Fraser looks at me and says, perfectly bland, "In fact, Ray, if I understand the vernacular correctly and we are about to indulge in the activities I believe we are, this is indeed, a fairy story."
I growl. "Jeez, I'd forgotten how annoying you are."
He gives me a sexy smile, the sort that would have melted poor Frannie into a puddle of goo, if she'd been lucky enough to see it. I feel pretty gooey inside myself and smile back.
"Ray, I've missed you more than any words can possibly convey. If this isn't what you want----"
"Oh, I want, Frase. I most definitely want. It's just---everything else."
"I heard Lt. Berquist offer you a job with the department here, Ray. I think you may have already found our solution."
I blink at him and realize he's right. I don't have to go back to Chicago to be a cop. I can be one right here if I want to. Canada and Alaska are about as close as it gets.
"Okay."
I step up to him and kiss him, sweet and true and certain, because I know it doesn't matter where I am, as long as I'm with Fraser, I'm home. It's a love thing. Then I step back and unlock the door.
"Shall we?"
"Whatever you say, Ray."
We step through the door together.
I really wanted to do something with long johns and trapdoors, but nada. Instead, this.
In a Hallway
I stopped outside the door to my hotel room. Was I really doing this?
Fraser stood beside me and I knew if I changed my mind he'd never say another word about it. He'd go on being my friend, while I went on being a coward.
Besides, it wasn't the sex I was a afraid of.
Nope, it was the other thing. The love thing.
That scared me.
I'd just spent a month on a fishing trawler, alternately praying I wouldn't get swept overboard and feeling so sick I half wished I would. I smelled like smelt. My beard itched. I had to be one of the most unattractive prospects to ever make a pass, but Fraser hadn't seemed bothered. Anyone who wanted to go to bed with me right now had to be in love.
Love's the scariest thing there is. Standing up unarmed against some creep with a gun doesn't even compare. That's why I hadn't been willing to take the chance.
I didn't want to get hurt again.
I sure as hell didn't want to hurt Fraser, either.
So we parted ways, but it didn't work, and when I saw him on the dock, I almost fell apart in front of half a dozen Alaska State Troopers, half the fishing fleet, a couple of tourists and a seal.
I stumbled off the boat and over to him and Fraser hugged me right there on the pier. It felt like coming home. It felt like everything I'd needed and lost when I went back to Chicago. It felt like being alive again.
It felt like love.
That was a couple of hours ago, because it took that long to straighten out why a Chicago detective was arresting a Canadian smuggler in Alaska. I had to explain about being undercover and how this guy that worked for one of the big oil companies was bringing Mexican heroin into Canada, then transferring it from fishing trawlers to an outfit that shipped the catch south into the States. Just explaining it all made my head ache. The cop in charge seemed pretty impressed though, especially when I showed him where there was 5 kilos of brown tar heroin in the boat's hold. My suspect was now locked up and lawyered up in the local jail and all I had to do until tomorrow was get a shower and some sleep.
And talk to Fraser.
Except neither of us were really thinking about talking once we went through this door.
"Ray, are we going to go in?" Fraser asked me.
"Yeah, just a minute."
I looked at him. Just looked at him for a long moment. Mr. Picture Perfect Mountie. Except he isn't and I wouldn't love him if he was. There was a loose thread at the shoulder of his brown uniform, which I only saw because I was staring at him so hard. It'd been a long day and he could have used a shave, though not as bad I could. His hair was a touch longer than regulation and there was a thread or two of grey in it. The crinkles around his eyes were deeper. He wasn't a kid anymore, not that he was when we met either.
It's safe to say Fraser's old enough to know what he wants, just like I am.
He's made it pretty clear more than once that what he wants is me.
Every time, I've made some excuse, found some reason why we couldn't, though I never lied and said I didn't want to. Only now, standing so close I can hear him breathing, I have to believe that none of that matters. I'll deal. Later. I'll figure out something.
"You know this ain't a fairy tale, Fraser, right?"
Fraser looks at me and says, perfectly bland, "In fact, Ray, if I understand the vernacular correctly and we are about to indulge in the activities I believe we are, this is indeed, a fairy story."
I growl. "Jeez, I'd forgotten how annoying you are."
He gives me a sexy smile, the sort that would have melted poor Frannie into a puddle of goo, if she'd been lucky enough to see it. I feel pretty gooey inside myself and smile back.
"Ray, I've missed you more than any words can possibly convey. If this isn't what you want----"
"Oh, I want, Frase. I most definitely want. It's just---everything else."
"I heard Lt. Berquist offer you a job with the department here, Ray. I think you may have already found our solution."
I blink at him and realize he's right. I don't have to go back to Chicago to be a cop. I can be one right here if I want to. Canada and Alaska are about as close as it gets.
"Okay."
I step up to him and kiss him, sweet and true and certain, because I know it doesn't matter where I am, as long as I'm with Fraser, I'm home. It's a love thing. Then I step back and unlock the door.
"Shall we?"
"Whatever you say, Ray."
We step through the door together.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 03:36 am (UTC)Fraser looks at me and says, perfectly bland, "In fact, Ray, if I understand the vernacular correctly and we are about to indulge in the activities I believe we are, this is indeed, a fairy story."
I growl. "Jeez, I'd forgotten how annoying you are."
Loved this bit especially.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 04:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 05:08 am (UTC)What? You mean he can't be both? The fish smell probably wouldn't bother Fraser as much as it does Ray, anyway. Omnia vincit odor. Either that or as soon as they're in the room, he's pushing Ray into the shower.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 07:30 am (UTC)Fraser in the shower with Ray. Mm, that thought gave me happy shivers. Hee. :)
no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 04:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 05:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 11:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 08:12 pm (UTC)Behind Door #1
Date: 2003-10-10 11:18 am (UTC)Bridget
Re: Behind Door #1
Date: 2003-10-10 08:33 pm (UTC)Behind Door # One! [Curtain sweeps back and reveals Fraser and Ray in an oblivious clench.} A blond and a brunette matched set of detectives!
Behind Door # Two! [Curtain opens on another stage.] A new car!
And behind Door # Three, your choice . . . [A third curtain opens, the crowd gasps in disappointment, and a model in an evening dress holds up a plate.] A cheese sandwich.
Too bad, but we're sending you home with some nice parting feedback to read while you eat your sandwich.
Thanks for the lunch time pick-me up.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 12:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 02:14 pm (UTC)Yes indeed he is. Another day started with a great story. I'll have to make this a habit.
I look forward to your whole story!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 08:46 pm (UTC)I like reading a good story over lunch, myself. Other than spraying soda on the monitor sometimes, it's a relatively harmless habit.
And the whole story, I look forward to finishing it. It's already doubled in length from what I projected. I want some time to read back.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 05:38 pm (UTC)Waah! I love you.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 08:50 pm (UTC)I was going to send you another chunk of the story to look over during the weekend, but decided to hold onto it until I got it written up the point of this vignette, since this is where things start looking up again.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-11 01:26 am (UTC)