Fiction; How Far Parnternship Goes; F/K; G
Aug. 4th, 2006 07:14 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ds_slashTitle: How Far Partnership Goes
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ashkta
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: G
Words: 780
Acknowledgements: Thanks so much toshadowomega for reading this before I posted it. :)
Summary: An outside observer notes the little things between Fraser and Ray and muses over them.
You look at him, and he looks at you, and you both pause, knowing that you’ve come to the same conclusion. You never even had to acknowledge it. You bandied about the facts, discussed possible outcomes, confirmed or disproved your ideas, and even had arguments about it on occasion. But, in the end, you met up in the middle, figured out what to do next, and made plans to head out and get your man. You always do.
He says your name, and you say his. You’re always doing it, talking to one another like that, calling out subconsciously for notice. The two of you don’t even realize it. I’ve wanted you to notice me, and for me to be able to admit my feelings for you, but you never look at me. Not the way you look at him. And you never call my name. You don’t repeat it over and over, as if it’s perfectly normal to carry on a conversation that way.
I wonder if he knows, if he sees past your partnership to the obvious. I see it, though I don’t want to. I don’t want to know. But I can’t help but think that, if he doesn’t see it, he’s an idiot. If he doesn’t appreciate you, he’s a fool. If the two of you aren’t kissing when you’re off duty, then I’ve lost the second best fantasy of my life and my biggest heartache at the same time.
He’s saying your name again, and you turn around. He’s just picked up the phone, and it’s for you. I watch you take it and answer it politely. A moment passes, then two. After that the phone is falling back to the cradle on his desk, and you’re taking a seat. I have no idea what’s happened and neither does he. But at least he gets to stand up, to put his hand on your shoulder, to ask if everything is all right.
You seem okay, but then I notice his hand. His fingers are rubbing your shoulder slowly as he listens to what you’re saying. I don’t know if you realize it – you haven’t asked him to stop. So I have to wonder if you like it. That concerned touch from your partner; do you feel it at all? And if you do, do you think it’s just platonic? Could it be that you’re so focused on telling your story that you can’t even feel those slim fingers caressing the fabric of your uniform? Surely not.
You finish talking and look up at him. It’s one of those silent, serious moments, and I know that with anyone else you would have already become uncomfortable. You’d look away. But you don’t with him. You just sit there, and I think I see his hand twitch, like he wants to bring it to your face, but he doesn’t.
And suddenly you’re both all business, talking about cases, hands to yourselves. You spend several minutes that way as if trying to brush off whatever moment happened between you. Trying to erase it because, let’s face it, you’re men. You don’t want to deal with all that relationship stuff. Do you? Maybe.
Then you invite him to dinner. Your hat is clutched a little tightly in your hands, and your posture looks a little tense. But he gets that look, that incredible smile, and that makes you so happy – I can tell because of the look on your face, the way the worry bleeds out of you. You always look relieved when he smiles at you like that. At times like this, I can’t help but think that nothing has happened between you two. That maybe it’s all in my head. Or maybe it’s in your head, too, and you just don’t know how to go from being partners to…something else.
The two of you start to leave, but he taps your arm. You turn your head and realize he’s walking back to his desk. He’s forgotten something. He grabs it quickly, makes a comment, and then snatches his jacket off the chair.
And finally – finally – you look at me and smile. But it isn’t the same smile you’ve given to him. Not even close.
“Ah, Francesca. I wonder if you might run this through the system….”
So I look at you and grin and say, “Sure, Frase.” I take the paper that he’s shoving in my face while you stand there gazing at me, completely oblivious to any of my thoughts. I’ll run it while you’re gone. I always do. But, while it’s processing, my mind will be with the two of you, wondering just how far your partnership goes.
-----
~Fin~
Author:
ashktaPairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: G
Words: 780
Acknowledgements: Thanks so much to
shadowomega for reading this before I posted it. :)Summary: An outside observer notes the little things between Fraser and Ray and muses over them.
You look at him, and he looks at you, and you both pause, knowing that you’ve come to the same conclusion. You never even had to acknowledge it. You bandied about the facts, discussed possible outcomes, confirmed or disproved your ideas, and even had arguments about it on occasion. But, in the end, you met up in the middle, figured out what to do next, and made plans to head out and get your man. You always do.
He says your name, and you say his. You’re always doing it, talking to one another like that, calling out subconsciously for notice. The two of you don’t even realize it. I’ve wanted you to notice me, and for me to be able to admit my feelings for you, but you never look at me. Not the way you look at him. And you never call my name. You don’t repeat it over and over, as if it’s perfectly normal to carry on a conversation that way.
I wonder if he knows, if he sees past your partnership to the obvious. I see it, though I don’t want to. I don’t want to know. But I can’t help but think that, if he doesn’t see it, he’s an idiot. If he doesn’t appreciate you, he’s a fool. If the two of you aren’t kissing when you’re off duty, then I’ve lost the second best fantasy of my life and my biggest heartache at the same time.
He’s saying your name again, and you turn around. He’s just picked up the phone, and it’s for you. I watch you take it and answer it politely. A moment passes, then two. After that the phone is falling back to the cradle on his desk, and you’re taking a seat. I have no idea what’s happened and neither does he. But at least he gets to stand up, to put his hand on your shoulder, to ask if everything is all right.
You seem okay, but then I notice his hand. His fingers are rubbing your shoulder slowly as he listens to what you’re saying. I don’t know if you realize it – you haven’t asked him to stop. So I have to wonder if you like it. That concerned touch from your partner; do you feel it at all? And if you do, do you think it’s just platonic? Could it be that you’re so focused on telling your story that you can’t even feel those slim fingers caressing the fabric of your uniform? Surely not.
You finish talking and look up at him. It’s one of those silent, serious moments, and I know that with anyone else you would have already become uncomfortable. You’d look away. But you don’t with him. You just sit there, and I think I see his hand twitch, like he wants to bring it to your face, but he doesn’t.
And suddenly you’re both all business, talking about cases, hands to yourselves. You spend several minutes that way as if trying to brush off whatever moment happened between you. Trying to erase it because, let’s face it, you’re men. You don’t want to deal with all that relationship stuff. Do you? Maybe.
Then you invite him to dinner. Your hat is clutched a little tightly in your hands, and your posture looks a little tense. But he gets that look, that incredible smile, and that makes you so happy – I can tell because of the look on your face, the way the worry bleeds out of you. You always look relieved when he smiles at you like that. At times like this, I can’t help but think that nothing has happened between you two. That maybe it’s all in my head. Or maybe it’s in your head, too, and you just don’t know how to go from being partners to…something else.
The two of you start to leave, but he taps your arm. You turn your head and realize he’s walking back to his desk. He’s forgotten something. He grabs it quickly, makes a comment, and then snatches his jacket off the chair.
And finally – finally – you look at me and smile. But it isn’t the same smile you’ve given to him. Not even close.
“Ah, Francesca. I wonder if you might run this through the system….”
So I look at you and grin and say, “Sure, Frase.” I take the paper that he’s shoving in my face while you stand there gazing at me, completely oblivious to any of my thoughts. I’ll run it while you’re gone. I always do. But, while it’s processing, my mind will be with the two of you, wondering just how far your partnership goes.
-----
~Fin~
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Date: 2006-08-04 12:30 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-08-04 01:12 pm (UTC)This is really sweet!
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Date: 2006-08-04 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-08-04 01:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 02:02 pm (UTC)Yay, Frannie is a slash girl, too!
I love how she thinks that if she can't have him, then Ray had better get him. I can really see her thinking that.
Lovely.
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Date: 2006-08-04 02:29 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-08-05 12:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-05 12:26 am (UTC)It's an awesome how, though. You ought to watch it sometime. The American releases don't have the coolest packaging or anything, but they're the cheapest DVD seasons you'll ever buy in your life, and there are only three sets. LOL.
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