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ds_flashfictionTitle: Rhyme Scheme
Author: Hyperfocused
Pairing: Fraser/Ray K
Rating: R
A/N: Self referential and self-insertion. \o/ (or ::embarrassed grin::, depending how one looks at it.) You might recognize a bit or two from Sensory, and Attention, Amazement, Announcement, Awakening. Forgive any huge gaffs. I'm sick, blame it on the cough syrup with codeine.
The call came at 3:30 on a Friday afternoon. Something was going to go down that evening with a corned beef on rye, and if Ray knew what was good for him, he'd be there to see it happen. "Oh, and bring your partner, too. The pretty one. It concerns him, as well." The tipster, a woman of indeterminate age, answered "That's not important, at this juncture," when asked her name. Ray could hear her giggling as she hung up the phone. That was pretty damn cold, warning for a poisoning attempt, then laughing like there was some humor in it. He hoped it was a prank, but even then it wasn't funny.
Ray repeated the information. "You know what this is about, Fraser? 'Cause I was looking forward to some pizza and a date with the remote."
"Pizza does seem to be out, tonight. Still, I'm sure we'll eat well."
"You don't think there's an actual poisoning in the works, do you?" No way Fraser would act so, well, casual about it all if he thought there were lives at stake.
"Probably not, Ray, but we'll have to find out for ourselves."
"You're telling me, just from 'a corned beef sandwich is going to get it', that you know where we're supposed to be? Does some meatpacker have it in for you? There a squabble between Jewel and Dominicks?"
"I think you'll find that tip referred to the Corned Beef on Wry. It's a bookstore delicatessen. It seems that our miscreant will be found there this evening. At 7:30."
This was getting curiouser and curiouser. "I don't recall anyone mentioning a time. You got some insider information I didn't hear? Hmm, she did say you were the 'pretty one'. Sounds like this mystery woman knows you pretty well." Ray laughed. Something was definitely up. "You got a secret girlfriend, Fraser?" No, but definitely a secret boyfriend.
"Let us just say I have my suspicions, and put our deductive and reasoning skills to good use. and discover the tru -the full story."
"And have a good meal, too. I have heard that their tongue is especially delicious."
"You eat that? Of course you do. You'll try just about anything."
"I haven't yet found my limit, this is true."
Fraser acted plenty weird as they waited for evening to fall. It was a slowish day, so Welsh had them busy with paperwork in order that they should avoid enjoying themselves, Ray was pretty sure. And even more suspiciously, Fraser hadn't mentioned the phone call, or even that they would be staking out this place in a few hours. Ray still had no idea what to expect, but he was pretty damn sure no one would be taken off in handcuffs.
7:00 rolled around -- finally -- and he and Fraser left for the Corned Beef on Wry. Funny name for a restaurant, Ray thought. Probably all the sandwiches had punny names like that place in the Watertower. Stella'd liked to go there after she made Ray take her shopping. He hadn't seen the point of it, everything was so jacked up. That is, he hadn't seen the point of it other than making her happy, and yeah, it was kind of nice watching her strut around in whatever outfit she'd fallen in love with that day. The girl had style.
Fraser did too, except it was his own kind of style, completely unconscious. He made the most improbable things look hot, from hot woolen uniforms to hip waders. Ray didn't think it was possible Fraser ever looked bad. In order to fit in with the Wry crowd (which seemed ridiculous to Ray, but hey, whatever), he'd changed into a thick black woolen sweater and dark jeans. Ray couldn't help watching how perfectly they hugged his ass. Ray was still wearing his usual jeans and T, but Fraser handed him his leather jacket. Hell, Ray wasn't sure if this was a date or a bust. Or maybe it would be a date that was a bust, if he couldn't tell.
The Corned Beef on Wry was a little dumpier than Ray had expected, the menu in chalk on a blackboard up at the front, worn but comfortable chairs placed haphazardly. It was also mostly empty, which was certainly strange for a Friday night. Maybe all their regulars were at temple? But no, judging from the bacon listed on the menu, this wasn't that kind of deli.
"What do you think of it, Ray?" Fraser asked.
"Is she the supposed 'miscreant'?." Ray pointed up to the stage, where a rather large young(ish) woman seemed to be practicing for a poetry reading. Or maybe this was the performance, and nobody had shown up. She had wavy dark hair with sort of purple streaks. That, and a metal walker, which made a funny juxtaposition. "'Cause I think we could catch up pretty fast in a chase. You wanna tell me what's really going on?"
Fraser looked a little aghast at that, and quickly apologized to the woman. "Ray's not usually so impolite. I'm afraid I may have misled him a little. I'm sorry, Karen."
"No problem. He's right, I would make a pretty poor evil mastermind. Why don't you do as he asks, and clue him in?"
"Do that, Frase." Ray folded his arms.
"Why don't you sit down?" Ray sighed and sat in a tattered plaid recliner.
"Okay, I'm sitting. What's up?"
"Karen is a poet."
"I got that. what with the reading and the coffeehouse vibe. I didn't know you were into poetry." Ray actually kind of liked it a little, especially the kind where the poets got all angry and interesting, and maybe a fight broke out. He'd never really discussed it with Fraser, though.
"I've tried my hand at it, but I'm afraid I haven't the talent. That's why when I happened upon Karen's -- she goes by Hyperfocused when she's performing -- I asked for her help. Commissioned her, to be more precise."
"You rented a poet? Why?"
"Because since we've been -- together -- there are things I'd like to say to you, but don't have the right words."
"You? You always know what to say."
"No, I don't, Ray. You make me tongue tied." Fraser flushed a little. "Why don't you listen to what she has to say. And don't worry, she'll keep our relationship safe and secret."
"That's why I closed the place down," Karen said, gathering her notes together. "Are we ready?"
Fraser perched on the arm of the chair next to Ray. "Yeah, go ahead. I'm all ears," Ray told her.
She started with a poem -- an a cross tick, which meant alphabetical, Fraser informed him --
"At night when Fraser and Ray lie
Belly to back
Curled together in needed warmth
Daring the cold to try and touch them
Everything just fits..."
Went on to
Fraser watches Ray
and knows
sun-streaked, straw-gold hair
wet-dark at the temples
and in other secret
Holy places.
It was kind of hot, that this was the way Fraser thought of him. There was even a silly one from Dieffenbaker's point of view. The lines Stalk the kitchen prey
rustle of the donut bag
will not wake them up.
Powdered sugar falls
like snow that melts so sweetly
tasty on your tongue made Ray laugh out loud, a bit of a break from the heat of Fraser's, or was it Karen's? words.
"I'm afraid I took a few liberties here," Karen apologized.
"That's quite all right. Dieffenbaker takes more than a few liberties himself," Fraser assured her.
She finished with this, and audience of one or no, Ray had to kiss him.
Ray in repose rights all
Fraser finds flawed, fulfills fantasies
long, lithe line of limbs, lashes
softened in sleep, sated
Later, after she'd finished, and had handed him a bound copy of the poems, and even after that, when they'd gone home together, gotten intimate, and he'd read the poems through himself while Fraser slept, Ray still couldn't believe this was how Fraser felt about him. It was overwhelming.
It was also how Ray felt about Fraser, he just had never thought about putting feelings to performance quite like that. Maybe he would now. Or maybe he'd get some help. There was a pretty talented mime he'd arrested for public nuisance not too long ago. Fraser was weird. He'd probably like that. And Ray wasn't worried about their secret getting out. He was pretty sure the guy wouldn't talk.
Author: Hyperfocused
Pairing: Fraser/Ray K
Rating: R
A/N: Self referential and self-insertion. \o/ (or ::embarrassed grin::, depending how one looks at it.) You might recognize a bit or two from Sensory, and Attention, Amazement, Announcement, Awakening. Forgive any huge gaffs. I'm sick, blame it on the cough syrup with codeine.
The call came at 3:30 on a Friday afternoon. Something was going to go down that evening with a corned beef on rye, and if Ray knew what was good for him, he'd be there to see it happen. "Oh, and bring your partner, too. The pretty one. It concerns him, as well." The tipster, a woman of indeterminate age, answered "That's not important, at this juncture," when asked her name. Ray could hear her giggling as she hung up the phone. That was pretty damn cold, warning for a poisoning attempt, then laughing like there was some humor in it. He hoped it was a prank, but even then it wasn't funny.
Ray repeated the information. "You know what this is about, Fraser? 'Cause I was looking forward to some pizza and a date with the remote."
"Pizza does seem to be out, tonight. Still, I'm sure we'll eat well."
"You don't think there's an actual poisoning in the works, do you?" No way Fraser would act so, well, casual about it all if he thought there were lives at stake.
"Probably not, Ray, but we'll have to find out for ourselves."
"You're telling me, just from 'a corned beef sandwich is going to get it', that you know where we're supposed to be? Does some meatpacker have it in for you? There a squabble between Jewel and Dominicks?"
"I think you'll find that tip referred to the Corned Beef on Wry. It's a bookstore delicatessen. It seems that our miscreant will be found there this evening. At 7:30."
This was getting curiouser and curiouser. "I don't recall anyone mentioning a time. You got some insider information I didn't hear? Hmm, she did say you were the 'pretty one'. Sounds like this mystery woman knows you pretty well." Ray laughed. Something was definitely up. "You got a secret girlfriend, Fraser?" No, but definitely a secret boyfriend.
"Let us just say I have my suspicions, and put our deductive and reasoning skills to good use. and discover the tru -the full story."
"And have a good meal, too. I have heard that their tongue is especially delicious."
"You eat that? Of course you do. You'll try just about anything."
"I haven't yet found my limit, this is true."
Fraser acted plenty weird as they waited for evening to fall. It was a slowish day, so Welsh had them busy with paperwork in order that they should avoid enjoying themselves, Ray was pretty sure. And even more suspiciously, Fraser hadn't mentioned the phone call, or even that they would be staking out this place in a few hours. Ray still had no idea what to expect, but he was pretty damn sure no one would be taken off in handcuffs.
7:00 rolled around -- finally -- and he and Fraser left for the Corned Beef on Wry. Funny name for a restaurant, Ray thought. Probably all the sandwiches had punny names like that place in the Watertower. Stella'd liked to go there after she made Ray take her shopping. He hadn't seen the point of it, everything was so jacked up. That is, he hadn't seen the point of it other than making her happy, and yeah, it was kind of nice watching her strut around in whatever outfit she'd fallen in love with that day. The girl had style.
Fraser did too, except it was his own kind of style, completely unconscious. He made the most improbable things look hot, from hot woolen uniforms to hip waders. Ray didn't think it was possible Fraser ever looked bad. In order to fit in with the Wry crowd (which seemed ridiculous to Ray, but hey, whatever), he'd changed into a thick black woolen sweater and dark jeans. Ray couldn't help watching how perfectly they hugged his ass. Ray was still wearing his usual jeans and T, but Fraser handed him his leather jacket. Hell, Ray wasn't sure if this was a date or a bust. Or maybe it would be a date that was a bust, if he couldn't tell.
The Corned Beef on Wry was a little dumpier than Ray had expected, the menu in chalk on a blackboard up at the front, worn but comfortable chairs placed haphazardly. It was also mostly empty, which was certainly strange for a Friday night. Maybe all their regulars were at temple? But no, judging from the bacon listed on the menu, this wasn't that kind of deli.
"What do you think of it, Ray?" Fraser asked.
"Is she the supposed 'miscreant'?." Ray pointed up to the stage, where a rather large young(ish) woman seemed to be practicing for a poetry reading. Or maybe this was the performance, and nobody had shown up. She had wavy dark hair with sort of purple streaks. That, and a metal walker, which made a funny juxtaposition. "'Cause I think we could catch up pretty fast in a chase. You wanna tell me what's really going on?"
Fraser looked a little aghast at that, and quickly apologized to the woman. "Ray's not usually so impolite. I'm afraid I may have misled him a little. I'm sorry, Karen."
"No problem. He's right, I would make a pretty poor evil mastermind. Why don't you do as he asks, and clue him in?"
"Do that, Frase." Ray folded his arms.
"Why don't you sit down?" Ray sighed and sat in a tattered plaid recliner.
"Okay, I'm sitting. What's up?"
"Karen is a poet."
"I got that. what with the reading and the coffeehouse vibe. I didn't know you were into poetry." Ray actually kind of liked it a little, especially the kind where the poets got all angry and interesting, and maybe a fight broke out. He'd never really discussed it with Fraser, though.
"I've tried my hand at it, but I'm afraid I haven't the talent. That's why when I happened upon Karen's -- she goes by Hyperfocused when she's performing -- I asked for her help. Commissioned her, to be more precise."
"You rented a poet? Why?"
"Because since we've been -- together -- there are things I'd like to say to you, but don't have the right words."
"You? You always know what to say."
"No, I don't, Ray. You make me tongue tied." Fraser flushed a little. "Why don't you listen to what she has to say. And don't worry, she'll keep our relationship safe and secret."
"That's why I closed the place down," Karen said, gathering her notes together. "Are we ready?"
Fraser perched on the arm of the chair next to Ray. "Yeah, go ahead. I'm all ears," Ray told her.
She started with a poem -- an a cross tick, which meant alphabetical, Fraser informed him --
"At night when Fraser and Ray lie
Belly to back
Curled together in needed warmth
Daring the cold to try and touch them
Everything just fits..."
Went on to
Fraser watches Ray
and knows
sun-streaked, straw-gold hair
wet-dark at the temples
and in other secret
Holy places.
It was kind of hot, that this was the way Fraser thought of him. There was even a silly one from Dieffenbaker's point of view. The lines Stalk the kitchen prey
rustle of the donut bag
will not wake them up.
Powdered sugar falls
like snow that melts so sweetly
tasty on your tongue made Ray laugh out loud, a bit of a break from the heat of Fraser's, or was it Karen's? words.
"I'm afraid I took a few liberties here," Karen apologized.
"That's quite all right. Dieffenbaker takes more than a few liberties himself," Fraser assured her.
She finished with this, and audience of one or no, Ray had to kiss him.
Ray in repose rights all
Fraser finds flawed, fulfills fantasies
long, lithe line of limbs, lashes
softened in sleep, sated
Later, after she'd finished, and had handed him a bound copy of the poems, and even after that, when they'd gone home together, gotten intimate, and he'd read the poems through himself while Fraser slept, Ray still couldn't believe this was how Fraser felt about him. It was overwhelming.
It was also how Ray felt about Fraser, he just had never thought about putting feelings to performance quite like that. Maybe he would now. Or maybe he'd get some help. There was a pretty talented mime he'd arrested for public nuisance not too long ago. Fraser was weird. He'd probably like that. And Ray wasn't worried about their secret getting out. He was pretty sure the guy wouldn't talk.
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no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 01:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 02:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 02:20 am (UTC)And ha! Mimes!
Fraser watches Ray
and knows
sun-streaked, straw-gold hair
wet-dark at the temples
and in other secret
Holy places.
I really liked this...
Thanks for sharing your wonderful talent with us.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 02:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 02:48 am (UTC)There was a pretty talented mime he'd arrested for public nuisance not too long ago. Fraser was weird. He'd probably like that. And Ray wasn't worried about their secret getting out. He was pretty sure the guy wouldn't talk.
Heeeee! Perfect ending.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 02:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 03:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 03:29 am (UTC)Makes it sound a bit like a hockey match.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 04:52 am (UTC)Fraser watches Ray
and knows
sun-streaked, straw-gold hair
wet-dark at the temples
and in other secret
Holy places.
Now that paints a lovely picture:D
no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 05:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 01:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 01:56 pm (UTC)Because nothing can touch them when they're together.
Yay for poetry! Yay for self-insertion! Yay for self-inserting poets! (Wow, that sounds kind of dirty. *g*)
no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 04:36 pm (UTC)Heh, the ending made me go "Nobody deserves a mime, Ray". *g*
♥