DS Holiday party: For nos4a2no9 by <user site="livejournal.com"

[metaphoracle.livejournal.com]

72. Fraser/Kowalski: "I love you. I'm just not sure I like you right now." For nos4a2no9

Pairing: F/K, F/OMC
Rating: G
Author: metaphoracle
Word Count: 1200+
Notes: I have no idea where this OMC came from...but this is the story Fraser wanted to tell. I hope you enjoy it! Thanks to jcjoeyfreak for the beta job.

1998, Chicago, Illinois, America.

One evening I came home to see Ray waiting outside the Consulate, shivering.

"Why didn't you go in?" Ray had demonstrated he held no tenet against breaking and entering, so I couldn't imagine why he'd decline to do so now.

"I'm not staying," he said quietly.

I was suddenly struck by a sensation of deja vu. I'd been here before. I knew what role I had to play. "Ah," I said quietly.

"I'm not...this isn't easy for me to say, Fraser. You've noticed the looks...you've had to."

"I have," I confessed, warily.

"Then you've got to know that this has got to end. For both of us."

My voice my mechanical, detached. "I don't see how what we're doing is anyone else's business."

"You know, I thought I was an idealist. And then I met you. And I...How could anyone live up to that?" He rubbed the back of his neck, agitatedly. "Do you know how hard it was to come over here tonight? To tell you that we had to end this? But it has to end. For your safety...for mine. Do you get that, Fraser?"

"Understood." I didn't want to play this role again.

"No, don't do that. Do not do that. Don't shut me out." Ray's eyes were fierce, angry, but determined.

And, as always, Ray's anger provoked my own. "You came over tonight to tell me that we can no longer continue our relationship. The way I see it, you're no longer in any position to make demands. Good evening, Ray."

"Fraser--" Ray looked dejected, like I'd punched him again.

"I love you, Ray. I'm just not sure I like you right now."

And with that, I moved past him into the Consulate.

1992, Carcross, Yukon, Canada.

"Evenin', Constable," Tom groused when I entered the pub.

I touched my fingers to the brim of my hat and followed Diefenbaker to our usual table. "Got yer wolf with ya, eh? I'll tell Barb to save a bit 'a stew." As usual, Diefenbaker's presence softened the old barman's tone and I smiled, more to myself than for Tom. "Thank you kindly." The usual patrons of the Dakota Roadhouse glanced my way, some curious, some contemptuous. None friendly. I suppose I could hardly blame them. I'd been stationed with the Carcross detachment for only a few weeks, a replacement for a well-loved member of the RCMP who had elected to retire. But among the familiar unfriendly faces, there was someone new. A man around my age who had eyes not for Diefenbaker, but for me. I studied him casually as I sat down.

"Here ya go, Constable." I smiled my thanks when Tom came by with my usual glass of milk. "A bowl of Barb's rabbit stew would be delicious," I said politely, and deliberately moved my eyes away from the man.

I ate alone, as usual. When I was finished I lingered. Diefenbaker paced restlessly, wanting to be outside, and eventually, as the man made no move to approach me, I reluctantly agreed.

Outside, I watched as Dief stretched his legs, running in circles for nothing other than the pleasure of doing it.

"Nice dog," the voice said next to my ear.

"He's a wolf, actually," I replied. "Well, half-wolf. Half-nuisance." I smiled. "I don't recall seeing you around before. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is--"

"Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP, you first came to Carcross when Roger retired about a month ago. You have a wolf named Diefenbaker, eat alone, and live in Roger's old cabin up by Nares Lake," the man said softly, a hint of smile in his eyes. "Small town," he said apologetically. "I'm the one that needs to introduce myself. My name's Miller. But everyone calls me Light. Miller Light. Kind of a joke."

"Not a very kind one," I replied quietly, looking him over. He shrugged. "Considering what else...I think I got off easy."

I had to agree.

***

Miller was intelligent, articulate. He was a university student studying at Yukon University in Whitehorse, but his parents were from Carcross. They'd died the previous winter, and although Miller wasn't particularly attached to the town, it was home.

We were both outsiders, and I think that was what drew us towards each other.

At some point it became obvious to the townsfolk what was happening, and there was obvious tension between Miller, myself, and the rest of the town. I found myself unable to enter the Dakota Roadhouse without drawing undeniably hostile, and sometimes disgusted looks from the patrons.

One evening I came home to see Miller waiting outside my cabin, shivering.

"Why didn't you go in?"

"I'm not staying," he said quietly.

"Ah."

"I'm not...this isn't easy for me to say, Ben. You've noticed the looks...you've had to."

"I have," I confessed, warily.

"Then you've got to know that this has got to end. For both of us."

"I don't see how what we're doing is anyone else's business."

"You know, I thought I was an idealist. And then I met you. And how could anyone live up to that? Do you know how hard it was to come over here tonight? To tell you that we had to end this? But this has to end. For your safety...for mine. Do you get that, Ben?"

I got it. "Understood," I said icily.

"No, don't do that. Do not do that. Don't shut me out." Miller's eyes were fierce, angry, but determined.

I shook my head, tired and not wanting to have this conversation. "You came over tonight to tell me that we can no longer continue our relationship. The way I see it, you're no longer in any position to make demands. Good evening, Miller."

"Ben..." Miller looked dejected.

I rubbed my eyebrow and looked him over. "I love you, Miller. I'm just not sure I like you right now."

And with that, I moved past him into my cabin.

My superior quickly arranged for a transfer, and I left Carcross, and Miller, behind.

1998, Chicago, Illinois, America.

I came home two weeks later to find Ray on the steps of the Consulate, shivering.

I stopped short and studied him.

"Let me talk," Ray's eyes searched mine. I nodded my consent.

"I love you, I just not sure I like you right now?" he asked. "What kind of bullshit line is that?"

I pursed my lips, a little confused. "I'm sorry you didn't approve."

"You're damn right I don't approve," he said, and stood up, straightening to his full height. "If we're ending this, we're not ending it with some kind of bullshit line like that."

I wasn't sure where Ray was going with this, but I wasn't about to disagree. I honestly hadn't expected to see him again, but I'd apparently underestimated him. "Understood."

"Good. Now let me in. I've been dyin' 'a cold out here," Ray grumbled.

And with that, we moved side by side and entered the Consulate.

Comments

[shoemaster.livejournal.com]

Oh. Poor woobie Fraser. At least Ray realized that he'd kind of fucked up there. They're going to work it out, dammit.

[metaphoracle.livejournal.com]

I think the fact that Ray does what Fraser does not expect is the essence of their relationship to me. I wish I'd been better able to explain it.

Thanks!

[nos4a2no9.livejournal.com]

Hooray! I loved this! And...I have already used my quota of exclaimation marks, because this was a sad, melancholy little story about the way people keep letting Fraser down. As shoemaster said, Fraser is 100% woobie here. And it really works. I liked the structure you chose to use, and it was neat to see the same conversation in 1992 take place again in 1998. I also liked how you didn't resolve everything and wrap up all their problems in a neat little bow - that felt very true and very realistic, and yet you still maintained the sense of hope that everything would work out okay. That's very important in a holiday fic :-)

Hahaha, and I'm glad that you called the prompt line "bullshit." Because it is, and I think we've all used it at least once. Great story, and I'm so thrilled with my holiday present!

[metaphoracle.livejournal.com]

I'm so relieved ^_^;;

When I got that prompt I kept thinking...only Fraser would say something that cliche, and somehow my mind got wrapped around cliches and history repeating.

I'm glad you enjoyed it!

[bluebrocade.livejournal.com]

*meep* Oh Fraser! My poor Fraser!

Nice angsty story. In my head, they now live happily ever after, of course. *dons tinhat*

[metaphoracle.livejournal.com]

Thanks! And of course they do! How could they not?

As if I would write a story where things don't end up happily. Who d'you think I am? Dira Sudis? ;)

[lucifercircle.livejournal.com]

I'm glad Ray saw sense at the end there. Nice job!

[metaphoracle.livejournal.com]

Well, someone has to when you're dealing with an overly idealistic Mountie.

Thanks!

[sam80853.livejournal.com]

The way I see it, you're no longer in any position to make demands.

Ouch! That sentence almost broke me! Poor Fraser!

But they are going to make it right, right? Right! C'mon!

[metaphoracle.livejournal.com]

Of course they'll make it right. They're MFEO ;)

Thanks!