DS Badfic Challenge - No One Say Curling!
Apr. 17th, 2006 04:10 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
buddleia.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionTitle: No-one Say Curling!
Prompt: When suspicious things start happening at the Consulatte, Fraser discovers the truth: there is a PLOT against Canada and the Consulatte has been invaded by SPIES! Is Turnbull a SPY??? Why is Thattcher sneaking around? And will Fraser be in time to save his lover Ray from a cruel and painful death when he's KIDNAPPED??? Read to find out!! (Dont worry it has a happy ending !!11!1)
Prompt written by:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
riverlight
rating/warnings/etc: Barely PG, too much dialogue and not enough maple syrup. But I don't think you can ever have too much maple syrup.
No-one Say Curling!
“Why, no, Ray, the great secret of maple syrup is that there is no secret. The felons in this case are almost certainly attempting to discover the truth about curling.”
“Curling?”
“Curling.”
“I thought that curling was just… “
“Precisely. And hopefully you will continue to think so, Ray. Kindly forget we had this conversation.”
“Uh, Frase -“
“I see them.”
After the uproar had died down and Dief had found a suitably impressive pose for watching the prisoners, Fraser looked around for his partner. Turnbull was standing in the corner, clutching a sticky glass bottle and nursing a black eye, but there was no sign of Ray. “Constable?”
Turnbull straightened up sharply, “Sir!”
“I think we can call this little episode finished. Please call the Chicago authorities and inform them that we have apprehended the maple syrup spies, whom, I might add, are more likely to be investigating curling –“ There was a gasp from the pile of prisoners and Turnbull went white. “Now, Constable, if you please.”
“Why, certainly, sir! The fiends!” Turnbull aimed a glare at the bruised heap as he sidled by to the desk and finally put down the bottle of maple syrup, although still well out of reach of the head spy, who had been wearing a ninja-style hood and looked very uncomfortable with it half twisted off.
Fraser strode away, picking half heartedly at the sticky remains on his jacket, “Ray! Ray! Ray! RAY!”
Distantly, he heard a very Ray-like “Mmmmph!” and bounded up the stairs, taking care not to scratch the banisters as he leapt them. He flung open the door to the Queen’s bedroom and saw nothing. “Mm-mmph!” came from the direction of the window and he ran across and looked out. There was a sharp crack and the world went white.
Ray watched as Fraser came round. It was quite impressive. He could clearly be seen to go from zero to VROOOM! in, like, microseconds. The hair was exactly as it was, too, which struck Ray as unfair. Shaking off his pique, he leant forward, twisting against his ropes. “Fraser, buddy, y’ok? Thatcher got you pretty hard there.”
“Inspector Thatcher? Ray? Are you quite sure?”
“Oh, yeah. M’not sure exactly what she’s playin’ at, but I think it involves curling.”
“Curling?”
“Curling.”
“But you don’t know about curling, Ray.”
“True. But you, Fraser, buddy, old pal, you told me there was something to know and somebody was listening.”
“There’s nothing to know, Ray, I was simply being…”
“Frivolous? Jokey?”
“Yes.”
“No,” Another voice startled him, “You were not being jokey, Constable Fraser, you were on the verge of a very serious admission to a non-Canadian, while the consulate was in the middle of a critical situation and full of spies! Do you have any idea how much trouble you are currently in?” Thatcher stepped out of the shadows. They could both plainly see how upset she was. Her shoes were clearly unsuitable for her jacket and her hair was slightly ruffled. “Constable, I find myself in a very unpleasant position.”
Fraser swallowed. “Not…not article XVII, section 42ii?”
“Exactly so.” Fraser went pale.
“Hey, mind filling in the Yank, here? I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”
Thatcher turned to him, her face impassive, and told him.
“So, let me get this straight, now I know about the curling –“
“MAPLE SYRUP,” chorused the other two.
“- now I know about the curling, which is always referred to as maple syrup in order to keep Canada’s plans for world domination a secret and don’t ask me what I think of that idea because you just don’t want to know it’s that stupid, I can’t be allowed out of the Consulate until you find some way of making me…Canadian?”
“That’s about the size of it, Ray.”
“Well then, ferchrissakes, why did you tell me?”
“Well, Inspector Thatcher is right, Ray. Even letting slip as much as I did was too much. Unless we can find some way of making this right, then you must be eliminated –“
“Hey!”
“- as a threat by making you a Canadian citizen, or else you will have to stay under Canadian observation at all times.”
“More spies? You gotta be kidding me!”
Inspector Thatcher sighed. “Detective, this is not something we ‘kid’ about. Please attempt to take this seriously. While you have both been locked in the Queen’s closet, the Chicago police have been and gone with the maple syrup spies. I have been in contact with the Canadian authorities and they stand ready to do one of two things. The first is to discipline Constable Fraser for his appalling security breach,” Fraser hung his head, “and to order him home to Canada while a small force is assigned to watch you, Detective, at all times and monitor your contacts.” Ray took a deep breath. “Wait, Detective, there is an alternative.”
With the door of his office closed, Welsh looked at the papers in front of him. He turned them upside down to see if they would make any more sense that way. He read them through again and then leant back in his chair.
In the bullpen, Ray and Fraser went pink as the Lieutenant’s laughter echoed around the room. Fraser unconsciously rubbed the gold band on his left hand and Ray let his head fall on the desk.
The End!
Prompt: When suspicious things start happening at the Consulatte, Fraser discovers the truth: there is a PLOT against Canada and the Consulatte has been invaded by SPIES! Is Turnbull a SPY??? Why is Thattcher sneaking around? And will Fraser be in time to save his lover Ray from a cruel and painful death when he's KIDNAPPED??? Read to find out!! (Dont worry it has a happy ending !!11!1)
Prompt written by:
riverlightrating/warnings/etc: Barely PG, too much dialogue and not enough maple syrup. But I don't think you can ever have too much maple syrup.
No-one Say Curling!
“Why, no, Ray, the great secret of maple syrup is that there is no secret. The felons in this case are almost certainly attempting to discover the truth about curling.”
“Curling?”
“Curling.”
“I thought that curling was just… “
“Precisely. And hopefully you will continue to think so, Ray. Kindly forget we had this conversation.”
“Uh, Frase -“
“I see them.”
After the uproar had died down and Dief had found a suitably impressive pose for watching the prisoners, Fraser looked around for his partner. Turnbull was standing in the corner, clutching a sticky glass bottle and nursing a black eye, but there was no sign of Ray. “Constable?”
Turnbull straightened up sharply, “Sir!”
“I think we can call this little episode finished. Please call the Chicago authorities and inform them that we have apprehended the maple syrup spies, whom, I might add, are more likely to be investigating curling –“ There was a gasp from the pile of prisoners and Turnbull went white. “Now, Constable, if you please.”
“Why, certainly, sir! The fiends!” Turnbull aimed a glare at the bruised heap as he sidled by to the desk and finally put down the bottle of maple syrup, although still well out of reach of the head spy, who had been wearing a ninja-style hood and looked very uncomfortable with it half twisted off.
Fraser strode away, picking half heartedly at the sticky remains on his jacket, “Ray! Ray! Ray! RAY!”
Distantly, he heard a very Ray-like “Mmmmph!” and bounded up the stairs, taking care not to scratch the banisters as he leapt them. He flung open the door to the Queen’s bedroom and saw nothing. “Mm-mmph!” came from the direction of the window and he ran across and looked out. There was a sharp crack and the world went white.
Ray watched as Fraser came round. It was quite impressive. He could clearly be seen to go from zero to VROOOM! in, like, microseconds. The hair was exactly as it was, too, which struck Ray as unfair. Shaking off his pique, he leant forward, twisting against his ropes. “Fraser, buddy, y’ok? Thatcher got you pretty hard there.”
“Inspector Thatcher? Ray? Are you quite sure?”
“Oh, yeah. M’not sure exactly what she’s playin’ at, but I think it involves curling.”
“Curling?”
“Curling.”
“But you don’t know about curling, Ray.”
“True. But you, Fraser, buddy, old pal, you told me there was something to know and somebody was listening.”
“There’s nothing to know, Ray, I was simply being…”
“Frivolous? Jokey?”
“Yes.”
“No,” Another voice startled him, “You were not being jokey, Constable Fraser, you were on the verge of a very serious admission to a non-Canadian, while the consulate was in the middle of a critical situation and full of spies! Do you have any idea how much trouble you are currently in?” Thatcher stepped out of the shadows. They could both plainly see how upset she was. Her shoes were clearly unsuitable for her jacket and her hair was slightly ruffled. “Constable, I find myself in a very unpleasant position.”
Fraser swallowed. “Not…not article XVII, section 42ii?”
“Exactly so.” Fraser went pale.
“Hey, mind filling in the Yank, here? I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”
Thatcher turned to him, her face impassive, and told him.
“So, let me get this straight, now I know about the curling –“
“MAPLE SYRUP,” chorused the other two.
“- now I know about the curling, which is always referred to as maple syrup in order to keep Canada’s plans for world domination a secret and don’t ask me what I think of that idea because you just don’t want to know it’s that stupid, I can’t be allowed out of the Consulate until you find some way of making me…Canadian?”
“That’s about the size of it, Ray.”
“Well then, ferchrissakes, why did you tell me?”
“Well, Inspector Thatcher is right, Ray. Even letting slip as much as I did was too much. Unless we can find some way of making this right, then you must be eliminated –“
“Hey!”
“- as a threat by making you a Canadian citizen, or else you will have to stay under Canadian observation at all times.”
“More spies? You gotta be kidding me!”
Inspector Thatcher sighed. “Detective, this is not something we ‘kid’ about. Please attempt to take this seriously. While you have both been locked in the Queen’s closet, the Chicago police have been and gone with the maple syrup spies. I have been in contact with the Canadian authorities and they stand ready to do one of two things. The first is to discipline Constable Fraser for his appalling security breach,” Fraser hung his head, “and to order him home to Canada while a small force is assigned to watch you, Detective, at all times and monitor your contacts.” Ray took a deep breath. “Wait, Detective, there is an alternative.”
With the door of his office closed, Welsh looked at the papers in front of him. He turned them upside down to see if they would make any more sense that way. He read them through again and then leant back in his chair.
In the bullpen, Ray and Fraser went pink as the Lieutenant’s laughter echoed around the room. Fraser unconsciously rubbed the gold band on his left hand and Ray let his head fall on the desk.
The End!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 03:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 04:17 pm (UTC)"I thought that curling was just…"
"Precisely. And hopefully you will continue to think so, Ray. Kindly forget we had this conversation."
"Unless we can find some way of making this right, then you must be eliminated –"
"Hey!"
"- as a threat by making you a Canadian citizen,"
no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 04:51 pm (UTC)::giggles:: Oh, god, this was hilarious! And the Queen's closet? Funny, funny, funny...
Bravo!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 05:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 06:37 pm (UTC)He turned them upside down to see if they would make any more sense that way. *giggles*
no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 09:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 08:29 pm (UTC)While you have both been locked in the Queen’s closet, the Chicago police have been and gone with the maple syrup spies.
Now THAT is one of the best sentences ever in F/K fic. :) Kind of sums up all of DS right there. They've been in the Queen's closet, all right. Hee!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 09:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-18 04:54 am (UTC)Seriously entertaining and definitely cracktastic. Good job!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-18 06:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-18 11:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-19 07:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-18 01:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-19 07:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-18 10:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-19 07:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-20 02:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-20 08:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 10:22 pm (UTC)Really, there must be more to curling. I think you're on to something...
Very, very funny, YAY!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-22 11:23 am (UTC)Thank you!