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ds_flashfictionThis Shakespeare challenge thing warms the cockles of my heart. 525 Words
A LITTLE NOTHING
Scene. A closet.
"Fraser. . .you came over to the station. . .just because I called you?"
“Of course, Ray. And I’ll stay until you tell me to go.”
"Mmm. Good. Stay until then, then."
"Till 'then?' Ah. You said ‘then’. . .shall I go now, then?"
“Grow up, Fraser. God, you’re like a big kid.”
"'Thus have I learned from my entertainment.’”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Before I go then--”
“Which I wish was never--”
“—Understood -- let me go with what I came for. . ."
"I know what that is."
“Ray. Stop looking at me so salaciously.”
“I’m not, and I don’t even know what that means.”
“Yes, you are, and yes, you do. What I came for is knowing what went on between you and Dewey."
"Nothing but word farts, so how 'bout I kiss you instead?"
"Ah. 'Word farts' are just fetid wind, and fetid wind is bad breath, and bad breath is. . .annoying. Perhaps I should leave without a kiss."
“Do not do that, Fraser, that witty Queen's English mumbo-jumbo- turn-it-upside-down-on-its-ear word thing.”
“Then tell me.”
“Okay, here's the down and dirty. I told Dewey to put up or shut up, so either I'll hear from him soon about trading knuckle sandwiches, or I'll let everyone know how full of shit he is.”
“Really, Ray, you mustn’t make such an ado about--”
“Yes, I must. But forget it. We have better things to do. Tell me again: for which crazy ass parts of my skinny Chicago flatfoot loser self did you fall in love with me?”
“For all those crazy-ass loser parts together. I perceived you were in such a miserable state you probably wouldn’t notice my attentions anyway.”
“Freak.”
“Pot and kettle, Ray, my friend. But for which of my ‘insufferably perfect Mountie’ parts did you first suffer love for me?”
“’Suffer love!’ You got it in one. I love you against my will. Or against the wall, whichever comes first.”
“And in spite of your heart, I think. Ray’s poor heart. Well, if you spite your heart because of me, I suppose I should do the same. How could I love anything that my friend hates?”
“Honest to God, Fraser, you slay me. I never know what the hell you’re going to say. ::sigh:: I guess we’re too crazy to have a normal, peaceful romance.”
“Evidently.”
MUCH KISSING LATER. . .
“But then again, you couldn’t help it, if I do say so myself, which I have to, because frankly, I rock. Which parts of me are as hard as, by the way.”
“Yes, I suppose we should er, postpone this until later.”
MORE KISSING. . .
“How’s Dief?
“Very ill. He ate all your Halloween leftovers, and then proceeded to. . .”
“Gross. And how are you?
“Very ill, too. With missing you.”
“God, Ben. Quit it. I’m blushing. “
“Sorry.”
"No, don’t, I meant. . .well, do your duty, love me and hang in there. Oops. Someone’s coming. Probably in a rush to get at the toilet paper stash at my feet.”
“Understood. Ray, I--”
“Understood, you big beautiful dork. Underfuckingstood. And likewise.”
A LITTLE NOTHING
Scene. A closet.
"Fraser. . .you came over to the station. . .just because I called you?"
“Of course, Ray. And I’ll stay until you tell me to go.”
"Mmm. Good. Stay until then, then."
"Till 'then?' Ah. You said ‘then’. . .shall I go now, then?"
“Grow up, Fraser. God, you’re like a big kid.”
"'Thus have I learned from my entertainment.’”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Before I go then--”
“Which I wish was never--”
“—Understood -- let me go with what I came for. . ."
"I know what that is."
“Ray. Stop looking at me so salaciously.”
“I’m not, and I don’t even know what that means.”
“Yes, you are, and yes, you do. What I came for is knowing what went on between you and Dewey."
"Nothing but word farts, so how 'bout I kiss you instead?"
"Ah. 'Word farts' are just fetid wind, and fetid wind is bad breath, and bad breath is. . .annoying. Perhaps I should leave without a kiss."
“Do not do that, Fraser, that witty Queen's English mumbo-jumbo- turn-it-upside-down-on-its-ear word thing.”
“Then tell me.”
“Okay, here's the down and dirty. I told Dewey to put up or shut up, so either I'll hear from him soon about trading knuckle sandwiches, or I'll let everyone know how full of shit he is.”
“Really, Ray, you mustn’t make such an ado about--”
“Yes, I must. But forget it. We have better things to do. Tell me again: for which crazy ass parts of my skinny Chicago flatfoot loser self did you fall in love with me?”
“For all those crazy-ass loser parts together. I perceived you were in such a miserable state you probably wouldn’t notice my attentions anyway.”
“Freak.”
“Pot and kettle, Ray, my friend. But for which of my ‘insufferably perfect Mountie’ parts did you first suffer love for me?”
“’Suffer love!’ You got it in one. I love you against my will. Or against the wall, whichever comes first.”
“And in spite of your heart, I think. Ray’s poor heart. Well, if you spite your heart because of me, I suppose I should do the same. How could I love anything that my friend hates?”
“Honest to God, Fraser, you slay me. I never know what the hell you’re going to say. ::sigh:: I guess we’re too crazy to have a normal, peaceful romance.”
“Evidently.”
MUCH KISSING LATER. . .
“But then again, you couldn’t help it, if I do say so myself, which I have to, because frankly, I rock. Which parts of me are as hard as, by the way.”
“Yes, I suppose we should er, postpone this until later.”
MORE KISSING. . .
“How’s Dief?
“Very ill. He ate all your Halloween leftovers, and then proceeded to. . .”
“Gross. And how are you?
“Very ill, too. With missing you.”
“God, Ben. Quit it. I’m blushing. “
“Sorry.”
"No, don’t, I meant. . .well, do your duty, love me and hang in there. Oops. Someone’s coming. Probably in a rush to get at the toilet paper stash at my feet.”
“Understood. Ray, I--”
“Understood, you big beautiful dork. Underfuckingstood. And likewise.”
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