Helens (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
helens78) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ds_flashfiction2010-04-19 09:38 pm
helens78) wrote in ds_flashfiction2010-04-19 09:38 pm
Entry tags:
Not For Nothing by helens78
Title: Not For Nothing
Author: Helens (helens78)
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Ray Kowalski/Maggie McKenzie
Rating: PG
Word count: ~1200
Summary: Maggie's in Chicago to help out at the Consulate, but she didn't pick Chicago for no reason.
Notes: For the Chase Challenge onds_flashfiction. :) Thanks to china_shop for granting me a few extra days!
Shit, Ray thought, lungs already burning. Shit shit. Fraser was always better at this running crap, better than Ray, whose days as a sprinter were not just behind him but had never actually begun. "Police!" he yelled, but it was no use--the scumbag purse-snatcher was pulling away fast, dashing into the crowds, putting real distance between them.
And then there was a flash of red--what the--and a flying tackle, and somebody's Stetson went flying, and it wasn't until Ray caught up, winded, hands on his knees to keep him mostly upright, that he spotted the blonde hair and the beautiful, classic features.
"I believe this gentleman has something to say to you," said the Unexpected Mountie, and Ray coughed until he caught his breath.
"Damn straight," Ray said. "You're under arrest. Anything you have to say, blah blah--"
"--can be used against you in a court of law," the Unexpected Mountie offered helpfully. "I believe you also have the right to representation of an attorney, which, if you cannot afford one through your own means, will be provided for you."
"That." Ray nodded. He bent down and cuffed the guy, and then and only then did he look up and say, "Maggie, not that it ain't great to see you, but what the hell are you doing here?"
* * *
Maggie MacKenzie, half-sister to Benton Fraser and the only person Ray had ever met who could equal Fraser for crazy, was in town not on the trail of the killers of anybody (thank God for small favors) but as a temporary assignee to the Chicago Consulate, taking over while Turnbull rushed home to see his sister's new baby.
"I thought the big city would eat you alive," Ray said, back at the 2-7. Maggie had been nice enough to go with him; Ray wasn't gonna fool himself into thinking she just didn't want him out of her sight. Be nice, though.
"It would if I were staying very long. But Constable Turnbull only plans to spend two weeks in Edmonton, after all. And I thought it would be nice to see you and--nice to see Ben, I mean, and of course you along with Ben, and--" She paused. "Where is Ben, anyway?"
"Broke his right collarbone last week; he's on medical leave until it heals up. You know him, he'd be right here on the street if it weren't for Thatcher sitting on him and telling him not to go anywhere."
"Well, I'm glad she's seeing he gets his rest."
"You and me both. Nice to have some backup out there, all the same." Ray grinned at her. "I don't suppose you wanna do a little liasing while you're down here?"
Maggie reached up and gave her right eyebrow a scratch, which looked downright weird on her--like a lot of the things she had in common with Fraser. Plus, what the hell did that mean? Fraser only did that when he was discomfibu--discombusti--screwed in the head a little, and what the hell did he say?
But all Maggie said was, "Why, yes, Ray, I think I'd like that very much," and that pretty much covered that.
* * *
After three or four days it was pretty easy to forget Maggie wasn't Fraser. She did the same wacky shit Fraser did--sniffing stuff, jumping out of windows, chasing cars--and having her for a partner was just as eventful and just as productive, case-solving-wise.
And it was better all the way around to think of Maggie like Fraser, because otherwise Ray's thoughts were liable to go to wildly dangerous places. Places like: if he picked up the check when they went for pizza after a long day, did that make it a date? (He decided no on that; if it did, then he'd been on hundreds of dates with Fraser, which--no. Just no.) Or if he invited her to his place to watch a hockey game, would she take it the wrong way? (He amended the invite to a quiet little bar he knew, where the owner would put on anything he wanted because he owed Ray a favor or three.) If he opened the car door for her, was that just being polite, or was that making a move? (On one hand, he'd never done that for Fraser; on the other hand, he had done it for Dief, which was a get-out-of-jail-free card as far as he was concerned. No way was he putting the moves on Dief, ergo no moves being made on Maggie. Politeness all the way.)
Ultimately, the question in his mind was: if he did put the moves on her, would Fraser punch him in the head? Maggie was his sister, fercrissakes; the guy might have a right.
But two weeks was coming up in a hurry, and for all Ray knew, Maggie wasn't going to be back here anytime soon. And, hell, she'd kissed him the last time she was leaving, right? Right? That had to mean something.
So when the last shift was done and the last timecard was punched out (well, figuratively), and her flight home was only eighteen hours off, he rocked himself back on his heels and said, "You wanna go get dinner?"
"Of course, Ray, I'd love to get dinner."
"No, I mean--" He tilted his head, this way and that, and raised his eyebrows at her. Had to ask this properly, now, because Mounties of the Fraser variety were kinda slow sometimes about this sort of thing. "You wanna go... get dinner? With me?"
Maggie kept that slightly-puzzled, fully-game expression on her face for about six seconds, then dissolved into a grin and a laugh and shook her head. "You know, there's an old Inuit saying that applies to this sort of situation, Ray..."
"Oh? What's that?"
She took her hat off, turned so her left side was up against his right, and slipped her arm through his. "Chasing someone until he catches you."
He walked her out of the station, grinning all the while, and as he opened the door to the GTO this time, she gave him a grin that said all kinds of things he liked. He came around to the driver's side and slipped in, too, and she turned halfway in her seat to face him.
"Ray, I wonder if you'd be in the mood to pick something up for dinner, instead of going out."
He paused halfway to saying sure, anything you want as her meaning struck home. "You sure about that?"
Her hand reached out, and she slipped her fingers into his hair, and just like that, he had his arms and mouth full of Maggie, scratchy red serge and all. When she backed away for a breath, he shivered just a little. "I'm gonna take that as a yes."
"I didn't come all the way to Chicago just to do a favor for Constable Turnbull, Ray," Maggie murmured. She brushed her lips over his again. "How about Chinese food? I liked Zhao's."
"You got it," Ray said, and he stretched an arm out on the back of her seat--no second-guessing his motivations this time--and pulled out of the lot.
-end-
Author: Helens (
helens78)Fandom: due South
Pairing: Ray Kowalski/Maggie McKenzie
Rating: PG
Word count: ~1200
Summary: Maggie's in Chicago to help out at the Consulate, but she didn't pick Chicago for no reason.
Notes: For the Chase Challenge on
ds_flashfiction. :) Thanks to china_shop for granting me a few extra days!Shit, Ray thought, lungs already burning. Shit shit. Fraser was always better at this running crap, better than Ray, whose days as a sprinter were not just behind him but had never actually begun. "Police!" he yelled, but it was no use--the scumbag purse-snatcher was pulling away fast, dashing into the crowds, putting real distance between them.
And then there was a flash of red--what the--and a flying tackle, and somebody's Stetson went flying, and it wasn't until Ray caught up, winded, hands on his knees to keep him mostly upright, that he spotted the blonde hair and the beautiful, classic features.
"I believe this gentleman has something to say to you," said the Unexpected Mountie, and Ray coughed until he caught his breath.
"Damn straight," Ray said. "You're under arrest. Anything you have to say, blah blah--"
"--can be used against you in a court of law," the Unexpected Mountie offered helpfully. "I believe you also have the right to representation of an attorney, which, if you cannot afford one through your own means, will be provided for you."
"That." Ray nodded. He bent down and cuffed the guy, and then and only then did he look up and say, "Maggie, not that it ain't great to see you, but what the hell are you doing here?"
* * *
Maggie MacKenzie, half-sister to Benton Fraser and the only person Ray had ever met who could equal Fraser for crazy, was in town not on the trail of the killers of anybody (thank God for small favors) but as a temporary assignee to the Chicago Consulate, taking over while Turnbull rushed home to see his sister's new baby.
"I thought the big city would eat you alive," Ray said, back at the 2-7. Maggie had been nice enough to go with him; Ray wasn't gonna fool himself into thinking she just didn't want him out of her sight. Be nice, though.
"It would if I were staying very long. But Constable Turnbull only plans to spend two weeks in Edmonton, after all. And I thought it would be nice to see you and--nice to see Ben, I mean, and of course you along with Ben, and--" She paused. "Where is Ben, anyway?"
"Broke his right collarbone last week; he's on medical leave until it heals up. You know him, he'd be right here on the street if it weren't for Thatcher sitting on him and telling him not to go anywhere."
"Well, I'm glad she's seeing he gets his rest."
"You and me both. Nice to have some backup out there, all the same." Ray grinned at her. "I don't suppose you wanna do a little liasing while you're down here?"
Maggie reached up and gave her right eyebrow a scratch, which looked downright weird on her--like a lot of the things she had in common with Fraser. Plus, what the hell did that mean? Fraser only did that when he was discomfibu--discombusti--screwed in the head a little, and what the hell did he say?
But all Maggie said was, "Why, yes, Ray, I think I'd like that very much," and that pretty much covered that.
* * *
After three or four days it was pretty easy to forget Maggie wasn't Fraser. She did the same wacky shit Fraser did--sniffing stuff, jumping out of windows, chasing cars--and having her for a partner was just as eventful and just as productive, case-solving-wise.
And it was better all the way around to think of Maggie like Fraser, because otherwise Ray's thoughts were liable to go to wildly dangerous places. Places like: if he picked up the check when they went for pizza after a long day, did that make it a date? (He decided no on that; if it did, then he'd been on hundreds of dates with Fraser, which--no. Just no.) Or if he invited her to his place to watch a hockey game, would she take it the wrong way? (He amended the invite to a quiet little bar he knew, where the owner would put on anything he wanted because he owed Ray a favor or three.) If he opened the car door for her, was that just being polite, or was that making a move? (On one hand, he'd never done that for Fraser; on the other hand, he had done it for Dief, which was a get-out-of-jail-free card as far as he was concerned. No way was he putting the moves on Dief, ergo no moves being made on Maggie. Politeness all the way.)
Ultimately, the question in his mind was: if he did put the moves on her, would Fraser punch him in the head? Maggie was his sister, fercrissakes; the guy might have a right.
But two weeks was coming up in a hurry, and for all Ray knew, Maggie wasn't going to be back here anytime soon. And, hell, she'd kissed him the last time she was leaving, right? Right? That had to mean something.
So when the last shift was done and the last timecard was punched out (well, figuratively), and her flight home was only eighteen hours off, he rocked himself back on his heels and said, "You wanna go get dinner?"
"Of course, Ray, I'd love to get dinner."
"No, I mean--" He tilted his head, this way and that, and raised his eyebrows at her. Had to ask this properly, now, because Mounties of the Fraser variety were kinda slow sometimes about this sort of thing. "You wanna go... get dinner? With me?"
Maggie kept that slightly-puzzled, fully-game expression on her face for about six seconds, then dissolved into a grin and a laugh and shook her head. "You know, there's an old Inuit saying that applies to this sort of situation, Ray..."
"Oh? What's that?"
She took her hat off, turned so her left side was up against his right, and slipped her arm through his. "Chasing someone until he catches you."
He walked her out of the station, grinning all the while, and as he opened the door to the GTO this time, she gave him a grin that said all kinds of things he liked. He came around to the driver's side and slipped in, too, and she turned halfway in her seat to face him.
"Ray, I wonder if you'd be in the mood to pick something up for dinner, instead of going out."
He paused halfway to saying sure, anything you want as her meaning struck home. "You sure about that?"
Her hand reached out, and she slipped her fingers into his hair, and just like that, he had his arms and mouth full of Maggie, scratchy red serge and all. When she backed away for a breath, he shivered just a little. "I'm gonna take that as a yes."
"I didn't come all the way to Chicago just to do a favor for Constable Turnbull, Ray," Maggie murmured. She brushed her lips over his again. "How about Chinese food? I liked Zhao's."
"You got it," Ray said, and he stretched an arm out on the back of her seat--no second-guessing his motivations this time--and pulled out of the lot.
-end-