better late than. . .
Apr. 20th, 2003 08:42 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ds_flashfictionwell, you know.
so, even though the challenge is officially, i give you another slightly voyeuristic fic. well, people are watching, anyway, kinda sorta.
Fraser and Inspector Thatcher both turned their heads, startled by the frantic pounding against the Consulate's front door. Fraser, seeing the Inspector's face begin to flush and lips begin to thin, hurried to open it.
“Ray!” Fraser said, eyebrows raised at the sight before him. Ray Kowalski was standing on the front steps, hair more wildly disheveled than usual, wearing a shiny silver tank top, blue vinyl pants, and pointy leather shoes. Shoes which seemed to be. . .smoldering.
Ray stumbled into the Consulate and grabbed Fraser's shoulders, hard. “Frase! I've just been to the year 3000!”
Fraser blinked. “Ah.” He blinked again. He began walking backward, leading Ray into the drawing room. “So. What was it like?”
Ray shrugged. “Pretty much the same, but they lived underwater.” He turned to leer at the Inspector. “And your great-great-great-granddaughter was pretty fine.”
Thatcher nodded slowly. “I'll go call a doctor,” she said quietly to Fraser, and hurried over to the phone.
Fraser steered Ray over to the couch, sat him down, and began running his hands through Ray's hair, checking for lumps or soft spots. “Ray, you're quite warm, and your shoes seem to be slightly aflame.”
Ray waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah, it's the friction. It's harder coming back, for some reason.”
“Oh, I see.” Fraser pressed his hands more firmly against Ray's head. “Ray, were you in a car accident? Did you hit your head?”
“What?” Ray squinted up at Fraser. “No, they used a time machine.” Suddenly he reached up, grabbed Fraser by the lanyard, and pulled hard, so that Fraser ended up on his knees in front of him. Ray leaned down, and put his face right in front of Fraser's. “Know what else about the future, Frase?”
“What, Ray?” Fraser said, his hands on Ray's wrists, trying to dislodge his grasp.
Ray shook Fraser slightly. “Gay people were married in the future. It was legal. Nobody cared at all.”
Fraser stopped moving, his entire body perfectly still for a long moment. Slowly, slowly, he tilted his head to look up at Ray. He licked his bottom lip. “Is that so, Ray?”
Ray nodded, and the smile on his face lit him up, made him beautiful. "I really liked it there, Frase.”
Fraser smiled back gloriously. Then, in a movement that seemed natural and inevitable, he raised his head until his mouth met Ray's in a wet, carnal, committed kiss. And nothing-- not the Inspector's incoherent sputtering, not Dief's snide comments, not the pail of water Turnbull threw over Ray's shoes, nothing could ever break them apart.
(Lyrics are from "Year 3000" by Busted)
hey, it was stuck in my head! and what do i know? maybe the next challenge is supposed to use lyrics as dialogue. 423 words.
so, even though the challenge is officially, i give you another slightly voyeuristic fic. well, people are watching, anyway, kinda sorta.
Fraser and Inspector Thatcher both turned their heads, startled by the frantic pounding against the Consulate's front door. Fraser, seeing the Inspector's face begin to flush and lips begin to thin, hurried to open it.
“Ray!” Fraser said, eyebrows raised at the sight before him. Ray Kowalski was standing on the front steps, hair more wildly disheveled than usual, wearing a shiny silver tank top, blue vinyl pants, and pointy leather shoes. Shoes which seemed to be. . .smoldering.
Ray stumbled into the Consulate and grabbed Fraser's shoulders, hard. “Frase! I've just been to the year 3000!”
Fraser blinked. “Ah.” He blinked again. He began walking backward, leading Ray into the drawing room. “So. What was it like?”
Ray shrugged. “Pretty much the same, but they lived underwater.” He turned to leer at the Inspector. “And your great-great-great-granddaughter was pretty fine.”
Thatcher nodded slowly. “I'll go call a doctor,” she said quietly to Fraser, and hurried over to the phone.
Fraser steered Ray over to the couch, sat him down, and began running his hands through Ray's hair, checking for lumps or soft spots. “Ray, you're quite warm, and your shoes seem to be slightly aflame.”
Ray waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah, it's the friction. It's harder coming back, for some reason.”
“Oh, I see.” Fraser pressed his hands more firmly against Ray's head. “Ray, were you in a car accident? Did you hit your head?”
“What?” Ray squinted up at Fraser. “No, they used a time machine.” Suddenly he reached up, grabbed Fraser by the lanyard, and pulled hard, so that Fraser ended up on his knees in front of him. Ray leaned down, and put his face right in front of Fraser's. “Know what else about the future, Frase?”
“What, Ray?” Fraser said, his hands on Ray's wrists, trying to dislodge his grasp.
Ray shook Fraser slightly. “Gay people were married in the future. It was legal. Nobody cared at all.”
Fraser stopped moving, his entire body perfectly still for a long moment. Slowly, slowly, he tilted his head to look up at Ray. He licked his bottom lip. “Is that so, Ray?”
Ray nodded, and the smile on his face lit him up, made him beautiful. "I really liked it there, Frase.”
Fraser smiled back gloriously. Then, in a movement that seemed natural and inevitable, he raised his head until his mouth met Ray's in a wet, carnal, committed kiss. And nothing-- not the Inspector's incoherent sputtering, not Dief's snide comments, not the pail of water Turnbull threw over Ray's shoes, nothing could ever break them apart.
(Lyrics are from "Year 3000" by Busted)
hey, it was stuck in my head! and what do i know? maybe the next challenge is supposed to use lyrics as dialogue. 423 words.
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Date: 2003-04-20 08:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-20 08:09 pm (UTC)Wild-eyed, shoe-smoldering Ray. Thatcher's great great great... Friction. Very silly, very fun.
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Date: 2003-04-20 08:35 pm (UTC)::giggle::
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Date: 2003-04-20 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-21 04:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-21 06:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-21 10:15 pm (UTC)Have I mentioned lately I worship the fucking ground you walk on?
(Which I imagine is really bad, because most likely my face will get stuck on the ground while I'm worshipping because where you are is so freaken cold)
not the pail of water Turnbull threw over Ray's shoes, nothing could ever break them apart.
GAH! *goes back to the ground*