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ds_flashfictionOkay. *Cracking of knuckles*. Fifty minutes to go. I can do this. Shamelessly ripped off of "Woman of the Year", by Garson Kanin, in an hommage to the immortal Kate. Also in total and complete plagiarism. But hey, FIFTY MINUTES! About 950 words. Oh, and that's 12:46 Atlantic time, so I'm *safe*!
Take Me Out
by lamardeuse
"I'm sorry," Fraser said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "but I'm afraid you'll have to explain that to me one more time."
Ray bit back the scream of frustration. The guy behind him tapped him on the shoulder again. "Hey, buddy," he said, "tell your pal it ain't rainin'."
Ray nodded and turned back to Fraser. "Guy, ah, wanted you to know it ain't rainin'."
Fraser looked up like he could see through the brim of his hat, then stuck out his lower lip so the shiny inside was showing a little, like a tease. If Ray'd known Frase was gonna do that today, he would've worn the looser pair of jeans. "Ah." He swivelled round and smiled at the guy. "Thank you kindly."
The other guy muttered something that sounded like, "--in' freak."
No argument there, Ray thought.
"Okay, you listenin'?" he barked. Fraser snapped to attention. "Now, there's nine innings, and in every inning each team has to make three outs. When those are all done, game's over, right?"
"Yes, but if each team makes the same number of outs, won't the game always come out even?"
"No, see, because an out is just--well, it's just an out." Ray's head was swimming; this was worse than high school exams, trying to remember everything you'd ever learned and puking it out for everybody to see. Before he could figure out another way to put it so Fraser would understand, he heard the sharp CRACK of the bat, and snapped his eyes back to the action. The umpire made a motion with his hands--
"BALL! That wasn't never no ball! Whaddaya do in your spare time, burn down hospitals? Ya lousy graverobber!"
If it hadn't been raining before, the spit flying from the guy's mouth was enough to get Ray's hair damp. He was starting to wish he had a big-ass hat too. He began to explain the difference between a ball and a strike to Fraser in the middle of the downpour, but he was drowning, here. Drowning on dry land.
"Hmm," Fraser said, when Ray was done.
"What ‘hmm'?" Ray demanded.
"Well, it occurs to me that if the batter were particularly gifted in the art of deception, he'd stoop down and fool the pitcher."
Ray closed his eyes.
Another CRACK! and the whole stadium erupted. Ray tried to stand up and watch and talk at the same time, but with the guy still storming behind them, he could tell none of it was getting through. Finally, Fraser held up a hand, then turned around again. "Excuse me, sir, would you mind lowering your voice? My friend is attempting to explain the nuances of the game--"
Ray sank back into his seat and prayed for strength. This was going to be the worst Cubs game of his life.
And that was really saying something.
*~*~*~*~*~
CRACK!
"A double play!"
Fraser shifted up onto one knee with the roar of the crowd, his grin wider than the Mississippi, his eyes gleaming like a little kid's at Christmas. His hat was long gone, the top two buttons of his henley were unbuttoned, and he looked more relaxed than Ray had ever seen him.
And Ray wanted to tear the rest of his clothes off and fuck him in full view of the rest of the spectators, the Cubs, the Orioles, their coaches, managers, mascots and water boys.
"Have another peanut."
Fraser reached into Downpour Guy's paper bag. "Thanks," he said, still grinning, and the low familiarity of the syllable jacked Ray up even more. "A home run would win the game, wouldn't it?" he asked Ray.
"Nothing less," Ray agreed, annoyed by the frog in his throat. He coughed a couple of times to clear it.
Fraser raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead, he shifted again, and damned if he didn't get closer, jamming his thigh right up against Ray's in the process.
His hard, corded, muscular thigh.
Fuckin' hit it out of the park, finish this torture, I'm beggin' you guys--
The batter stepped up to the plate, and Ray watched as he struck one, two--
"MAN!" The groan from behind them was echoed across the stadium.
"Oh, too bad. We lose." For a guy who'd really been getting into it, Fraser didn't sound all that disappointed.
"No, no, we tie. See, they didn't break the tie, so we go into extra innings. They play until somebody wins."
"Oh." Fraser glanced at his watch. Shifted again.
"You got someplace to be?"
"No. I just--" Fraser took a deep breath, then turned full on to Ray, as full on as he could in those tiny plastic seats. Ray had to do a little breathing of his own before he could force himself to meet Fraser's gaze.
Holy. Fuck.
"I don't need to see any more of the game," Fraser told him in a nice, calm voice, that would've been convincing if it wasn't shaking. "I've learned a great deal about baseball from you today, Ray. You're an excellent teacher. And I'd like...that is, I want..." He trailed off and stared at the hat resting in his lap, his hands twisting the brim all to hell.
Fraser was drowning on dry land, and Ray had to do something. So he picked the Stetson up off Fraser's lap and set it on his head, gently, carefully.
"Yeah. I've seen enough, too. Of the game." He jerked his head to the side. "C'mon."
Fraser stared at him for a breathless moment, then they stood together. As they wove their way around the pairs of jutting knees, Ray saw the guy salute them with his half-empty bag of peanuts.
End
Take Me Out
by lamardeuse
"I'm sorry," Fraser said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "but I'm afraid you'll have to explain that to me one more time."
Ray bit back the scream of frustration. The guy behind him tapped him on the shoulder again. "Hey, buddy," he said, "tell your pal it ain't rainin'."
Ray nodded and turned back to Fraser. "Guy, ah, wanted you to know it ain't rainin'."
Fraser looked up like he could see through the brim of his hat, then stuck out his lower lip so the shiny inside was showing a little, like a tease. If Ray'd known Frase was gonna do that today, he would've worn the looser pair of jeans. "Ah." He swivelled round and smiled at the guy. "Thank you kindly."
The other guy muttered something that sounded like, "--in' freak."
No argument there, Ray thought.
"Okay, you listenin'?" he barked. Fraser snapped to attention. "Now, there's nine innings, and in every inning each team has to make three outs. When those are all done, game's over, right?"
"Yes, but if each team makes the same number of outs, won't the game always come out even?"
"No, see, because an out is just--well, it's just an out." Ray's head was swimming; this was worse than high school exams, trying to remember everything you'd ever learned and puking it out for everybody to see. Before he could figure out another way to put it so Fraser would understand, he heard the sharp CRACK of the bat, and snapped his eyes back to the action. The umpire made a motion with his hands--
"BALL! That wasn't never no ball! Whaddaya do in your spare time, burn down hospitals? Ya lousy graverobber!"
If it hadn't been raining before, the spit flying from the guy's mouth was enough to get Ray's hair damp. He was starting to wish he had a big-ass hat too. He began to explain the difference between a ball and a strike to Fraser in the middle of the downpour, but he was drowning, here. Drowning on dry land.
"Hmm," Fraser said, when Ray was done.
"What ‘hmm'?" Ray demanded.
"Well, it occurs to me that if the batter were particularly gifted in the art of deception, he'd stoop down and fool the pitcher."
Ray closed his eyes.
Another CRACK! and the whole stadium erupted. Ray tried to stand up and watch and talk at the same time, but with the guy still storming behind them, he could tell none of it was getting through. Finally, Fraser held up a hand, then turned around again. "Excuse me, sir, would you mind lowering your voice? My friend is attempting to explain the nuances of the game--"
Ray sank back into his seat and prayed for strength. This was going to be the worst Cubs game of his life.
And that was really saying something.
*~*~*~*~*~
CRACK!
"A double play!"
Fraser shifted up onto one knee with the roar of the crowd, his grin wider than the Mississippi, his eyes gleaming like a little kid's at Christmas. His hat was long gone, the top two buttons of his henley were unbuttoned, and he looked more relaxed than Ray had ever seen him.
And Ray wanted to tear the rest of his clothes off and fuck him in full view of the rest of the spectators, the Cubs, the Orioles, their coaches, managers, mascots and water boys.
"Have another peanut."
Fraser reached into Downpour Guy's paper bag. "Thanks," he said, still grinning, and the low familiarity of the syllable jacked Ray up even more. "A home run would win the game, wouldn't it?" he asked Ray.
"Nothing less," Ray agreed, annoyed by the frog in his throat. He coughed a couple of times to clear it.
Fraser raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead, he shifted again, and damned if he didn't get closer, jamming his thigh right up against Ray's in the process.
His hard, corded, muscular thigh.
Fuckin' hit it out of the park, finish this torture, I'm beggin' you guys--
The batter stepped up to the plate, and Ray watched as he struck one, two--
"MAN!" The groan from behind them was echoed across the stadium.
"Oh, too bad. We lose." For a guy who'd really been getting into it, Fraser didn't sound all that disappointed.
"No, no, we tie. See, they didn't break the tie, so we go into extra innings. They play until somebody wins."
"Oh." Fraser glanced at his watch. Shifted again.
"You got someplace to be?"
"No. I just--" Fraser took a deep breath, then turned full on to Ray, as full on as he could in those tiny plastic seats. Ray had to do a little breathing of his own before he could force himself to meet Fraser's gaze.
Holy. Fuck.
"I don't need to see any more of the game," Fraser told him in a nice, calm voice, that would've been convincing if it wasn't shaking. "I've learned a great deal about baseball from you today, Ray. You're an excellent teacher. And I'd like...that is, I want..." He trailed off and stared at the hat resting in his lap, his hands twisting the brim all to hell.
Fraser was drowning on dry land, and Ray had to do something. So he picked the Stetson up off Fraser's lap and set it on his head, gently, carefully.
"Yeah. I've seen enough, too. Of the game." He jerked his head to the side. "C'mon."
Fraser stared at him for a breathless moment, then they stood together. As they wove their way around the pairs of jutting knees, Ray saw the guy salute them with his half-empty bag of peanuts.
End
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no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 04:08 am (UTC)Secondly, this was darling--Ray explaining baseball! Fraser's learning curve! The ubiquitous asshole with the peanuts (I think I know that guy!), Fraser's shy suggestion that perhaps they could beat the stadium traffic and perhaps move the learning curve to a different venue. *g* Lovely.
I think my favorite part--weirdly, the part that's most Fraserish to me--is that sudden snapping out of it; "Oh, too bad. We lose."
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Date: 2003-07-26 04:19 am (UTC)::wiping sweat from brow:: Thank you, kind lady!
I think my favorite part--weirdly, the part that's most Fraserish to me--is that sudden snapping out of it; "Oh, too bad. We lose."
What was scary about this scene from the movie was how well Tracy and Hepburn gets translated into Ray and Fraser. A good chunk of the lines are directly stolen, but they sound right for these characters.
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Date: 2003-07-26 04:25 am (UTC)We should do an all Hepburn challenge, though. That would ROCK!
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Date: 2003-07-26 04:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 04:35 am (UTC)Heh! We should all be so lucky!!!!
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Date: 2003-07-26 04:18 am (UTC)oh, and your icon is wonderful. :)
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Date: 2003-07-26 04:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 05:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 04:23 am (UTC)Great comedy to be had in baseball; Even better when you add sex! Wonderful!
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Date: 2003-07-26 04:39 am (UTC)Love it. Thanks for your comment.
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Date: 2003-07-26 05:40 am (UTC)Some more of that teachin' in private.*g* Wonderful stuff!
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Date: 2003-07-26 10:49 am (UTC)Glad you liked!
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Date: 2003-07-26 10:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 10:07 am (UTC)Ah. I see. Fraser wants to go home and play a different ball game.
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Date: 2003-07-26 10:52 am (UTC)::snerk::
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Date: 2003-07-26 12:02 pm (UTC)That is so Fraser, I swear it came from an actual episode. Loved it!
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Date: 2003-07-26 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 12:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 09:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 02:40 pm (UTC)His hat was long gone, the top two buttons of his henley were unbuttoned, and he looked more relaxed than Ray had ever seen him.
And Ray wanted to tear the rest of his clothes off and fuck him in full view of the rest of the spectators, the Cubs, the Orioles, their coaches, managers, mascots and water boys.
Mmm, yummy image. This was perfect, lamardeuse. Bravo!
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Date: 2003-07-26 09:18 pm (UTC)Mysterious is right--even to me. I had an idea for this challenge just before I went to bed the night before last and I thought, "get up and write it down, because you'll never remember it in the morning." And of course I didn't write it down, and I didn't remember it. This might have been it. We'll *never* know. *g*
Hmm...so you approve of sex in public places, huh? I always knew you were a naughty woman! *tee hee* Thanks, as always, for commenting!
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Date: 2003-07-26 09:20 pm (UTC)And the hilarious thing is, that's an only slightly altered version of the Hepburn line. It's scary how well this scene from a sixty-year old movie fit with Fraser and Ray.
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Date: 2003-07-26 11:02 pm (UTC)Mmmm. Cary Grant in a feathery housecoat. Can't you just see Ray in that get-up? Tee hee.
Actually, I could really see a Tracy/Hepburn movie, particularly Pat and Mike, where there's an equal dynamic--five oh, five oh. Not specifically Bringing up Baby, because I can't see either of them being the screwball. But still....
...mmm. Feathery housecoat...
::slapping self:: Back to work! *g*
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Date: 2003-07-27 03:54 am (UTC)Also, because this is exactly the backward way I do things, I am now tempted to track down a copy of Woman of the Year.
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Date: 2003-07-27 01:53 pm (UTC)Oh, you must. That one and "Pat and Mike" are the best of the Tracy/Hepburn movies, IMO.