Newbie fic!
Dec. 7th, 2006 02:29 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
charashi.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_slashSo I'm totally a newbie to DS fandom, but I am so in love with this show. I watched the finale tonight, and this is what came out of it...:
Title: Falling Into Place
Pairing: RayK/Fraser
Rating: G
Word Count: 907
Notes: This is totally unbeta'd, and my first completed DS fic to boot, so please excuse the fact that it likely sucks ;) Takes place after "Call of the Wild."
It's truly remarkable the way things happen, at times, so slowly and yet so quickly at the same time. In the end, you try to think when they began, and all you can say is "all at once" and "all along."
I had worked with Ray for just over a year, and we had been on our adventure for just over a month when everything finally... I remember thinking how sudden it seemed, and yet somehow I think we both knew what was coming from the start, from when we set off on this quest together. Why it took so long, I don't know. Perhaps we needed the cold and the desolation and the isolation of the Yukon to wear down our inhibitions--those Ray had been guarding his whole life, those I had built up like armor during my time in Chicago. Some things get built up, out here in the wildnerness: I got to see Ray grow strong and healthy, every day a little easier for him. Others get torn down: every day a little harder as well.
A month-- it was April, then, but so far north and such a cold, cold night. Our gear, individually, was simply not adequate; it was only natural when Ray climbed in with me, burrowed himself into my bedroll like a tick into skin and huddled up against me. Equally natural the next night, when his arms found their way around my waist and I awoke to feel his head pressed into my shoulder, his breath warm and tickling my neck. And the next, when even though the temperature had risen significantly Ray still slipped into my bed with scarcely more than a glance at his own still bundled up in the sled.
The weather was hard on Ray. The weather, and the emptiness, and the silence, these were all as foreign to him as the noise and heat and crowds of Chicago had been to me when I first arrived. The armor was cracking, and on the fourth night when we settled down together, his voice wavered as he spoke to me.
"Listen, Fraser. You don't really think we're ever, you know, ever really gonna find this thing, do you?"
I remember thinking if I say no, does it end here? It was selfish of me, not to mention cowardly, but I knew that was a risk I was not yet prepared to take. "We may," I replied evenly, staring at the wall of our tent, feeling the pressure as Ray's arms tightened and then the rush of warmth across my skin as he laughed, shakily.
"Yeah," he murmured, and there was something in his voice that made something in me take notice. "Yeah, well..." Something anxious. Something breaking. He tucked his face into my neck and I could suddenly feel the twitch of every muscle: the tension around his sockets as his eyes shut tight, the sharp furrow of his brow deepening the creases in his forehead, the sudden stretch of his lips into that odd, reflexive grin he sometimes had over nothing at all. I closed my eyes, then; sight was no longer an important sense. "Until we do," he said, and I felt his hands press into my stomach, "you think you could be my reaching-out hand? You think you could do that for me, Fraser?"
This is how life goes. So suddenly, and yet through my surprise I realized, I knew, I had been waiting for this. I think we both had from the beginning. Not from the start of our adventure, not really -- no, it was so much longer coming. I think we knew from the moment I first called him "Ray," from the first time he reached out to me and I took his hand and pulled him up to me.
"I think I can do that, Ray," I whispered, and turned, rolled onto my side to face him. His skin felt like paper beneath my fingers, but it warmed as I brushed my hand over his face. His hand, as it took mine, was strong, rough, harder than it had been that first day by the lake called Michigan, toughened by the long month behind us. And I reached out to him, or he reached out to me, and the first meeting of our lips was something I had never thought of but waited for every day. It was everything finally falling into place.
Amazing, truly remarkable, the way these things happen sometimes. I could give you the date when Ray and I first became lovers, but I could never begin to tell you when it was that we really began. And though I could tell you when our quest for that hand, that reaching-out hand, came to an end -- as it happens, it was that same night -- I will never be able to tell you when we stopped, because we still haven't. Every night we search for each other; every night, we find. Ray reaches for me and I let him pull me to him, and in the morning he still huddles up against me until the dogs begin to bark.
One morning, he asks me: "So, really. You think we're ever gonna find this thing?"
I tell him, "No, Ray, no I don't."
"Yeah, I figured as much," he murmurs, and he burrows into the covers like a tick under skin. "Knew it all along."
Title: Falling Into Place
Pairing: RayK/Fraser
Rating: G
Word Count: 907
Notes: This is totally unbeta'd, and my first completed DS fic to boot, so please excuse the fact that it likely sucks ;) Takes place after "Call of the Wild."
It's truly remarkable the way things happen, at times, so slowly and yet so quickly at the same time. In the end, you try to think when they began, and all you can say is "all at once" and "all along."
I had worked with Ray for just over a year, and we had been on our adventure for just over a month when everything finally... I remember thinking how sudden it seemed, and yet somehow I think we both knew what was coming from the start, from when we set off on this quest together. Why it took so long, I don't know. Perhaps we needed the cold and the desolation and the isolation of the Yukon to wear down our inhibitions--those Ray had been guarding his whole life, those I had built up like armor during my time in Chicago. Some things get built up, out here in the wildnerness: I got to see Ray grow strong and healthy, every day a little easier for him. Others get torn down: every day a little harder as well.
A month-- it was April, then, but so far north and such a cold, cold night. Our gear, individually, was simply not adequate; it was only natural when Ray climbed in with me, burrowed himself into my bedroll like a tick into skin and huddled up against me. Equally natural the next night, when his arms found their way around my waist and I awoke to feel his head pressed into my shoulder, his breath warm and tickling my neck. And the next, when even though the temperature had risen significantly Ray still slipped into my bed with scarcely more than a glance at his own still bundled up in the sled.
The weather was hard on Ray. The weather, and the emptiness, and the silence, these were all as foreign to him as the noise and heat and crowds of Chicago had been to me when I first arrived. The armor was cracking, and on the fourth night when we settled down together, his voice wavered as he spoke to me.
"Listen, Fraser. You don't really think we're ever, you know, ever really gonna find this thing, do you?"
I remember thinking if I say no, does it end here? It was selfish of me, not to mention cowardly, but I knew that was a risk I was not yet prepared to take. "We may," I replied evenly, staring at the wall of our tent, feeling the pressure as Ray's arms tightened and then the rush of warmth across my skin as he laughed, shakily.
"Yeah," he murmured, and there was something in his voice that made something in me take notice. "Yeah, well..." Something anxious. Something breaking. He tucked his face into my neck and I could suddenly feel the twitch of every muscle: the tension around his sockets as his eyes shut tight, the sharp furrow of his brow deepening the creases in his forehead, the sudden stretch of his lips into that odd, reflexive grin he sometimes had over nothing at all. I closed my eyes, then; sight was no longer an important sense. "Until we do," he said, and I felt his hands press into my stomach, "you think you could be my reaching-out hand? You think you could do that for me, Fraser?"
This is how life goes. So suddenly, and yet through my surprise I realized, I knew, I had been waiting for this. I think we both had from the beginning. Not from the start of our adventure, not really -- no, it was so much longer coming. I think we knew from the moment I first called him "Ray," from the first time he reached out to me and I took his hand and pulled him up to me.
"I think I can do that, Ray," I whispered, and turned, rolled onto my side to face him. His skin felt like paper beneath my fingers, but it warmed as I brushed my hand over his face. His hand, as it took mine, was strong, rough, harder than it had been that first day by the lake called Michigan, toughened by the long month behind us. And I reached out to him, or he reached out to me, and the first meeting of our lips was something I had never thought of but waited for every day. It was everything finally falling into place.
Amazing, truly remarkable, the way these things happen sometimes. I could give you the date when Ray and I first became lovers, but I could never begin to tell you when it was that we really began. And though I could tell you when our quest for that hand, that reaching-out hand, came to an end -- as it happens, it was that same night -- I will never be able to tell you when we stopped, because we still haven't. Every night we search for each other; every night, we find. Ray reaches for me and I let him pull me to him, and in the morning he still huddles up against me until the dogs begin to bark.
One morning, he asks me: "So, really. You think we're ever gonna find this thing?"
I tell him, "No, Ray, no I don't."
"Yeah, I figured as much," he murmurs, and he burrows into the covers like a tick under skin. "Knew it all along."
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 11:08 am (UTC)A really nice sense of physicality from Fraser.
There are a few minor grammatical points (never use ", and" as one makes the other redundant and an em-dash should always have spaces before and after) but nothing that a good beta won't fix!
Welcome to the fandom! People are really nice and friendly, so anything you need to know, just ask!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 09:10 pm (UTC)The fandom seems really fantastic so far! I'm excited to be here. *g*
no subject
Date: 2006-12-10 08:17 pm (UTC)Neither of those items is an error. See my comments for the explanations, okay?
no subject
Date: 2006-12-10 08:06 pm (UTC)That statement isn't correct. The comma is used correctly before "and" to separate two complete independent clauses when there's a new subject. Even when the subject is restated, the comma is correct (but not always strictly necessary. It generally depends on the length or the complexity of the sentence). All three of the following sentences are correct:
Fraser walked toward him and held out his hand.
Fraser walked toward him, and Ray held out his hand.
Fraser walked toward the tent, and he held out his hand, and he said Ray's name.
That last one includes a restatement (twice) of the original subject, "Fraser."
In shorter or less complex sentences, the comma isn't always strictly necessary, but it's certainly NOT incorrect. I would argue that it is necessary here in my example, because otherwise the sentence could be read, just for a moment, as "Fraser walked toward him and Ray...." It's best to err on the side of preventing any misreading of your sentence. Even seconds of confusion can throw a reader out of your story. If you just tell people "never use ', and'"--you're generalizing too much. Her sentence here is correct as written:
In the end, you try to think when they began, and all you can say is "all at once" and "all along."
"You" is the subject of the first independent clause, and "all you can say" is the subject of the second. They are different, and the sentence is sufficiently complex that the comma is required.
Furthermore, the statement that "one makes the other redundant" implies that the comma and the word "and" are interchangeable. They're not. Remember, the "comma-plus-and" construction is separating two independent clauses. A comma is not sufficient to separate independent clauses. A "full stop," such as a semicolon or a colon, is required there.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-10 08:16 pm (UTC)This one isn't as big a deal as the "comma-and" issue. It's more of a stylistic thing. But, as you know, "Style counts, Fraser."
Sorry to have to take exception to both your points. I do agree that betas are good. I'm an editor--as though it's not obvious, eh? Most important, I agree that the story is really good!!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 11:22 am (UTC)This is a really lovely image. And F/K kisses are lovely. *g*
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Date: 2006-12-07 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 11:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 01:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 09:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 01:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 01:42 pm (UTC)Please write more. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 09:14 pm (UTC)(Also, great icon. XD)
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Date: 2006-12-07 03:54 pm (UTC)Nngh. Yes. Best thing in the world. The whole thing was brilliant, but -- yes. *applauds* Keep going! You're not allowed to stop there!
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Date: 2006-12-07 09:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 04:25 pm (UTC)WELCOME!
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Date: 2006-12-07 09:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 05:01 pm (UTC)Your Frase is really good :)
Thank you for sharing this.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 09:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 05:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-07 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-08 12:29 am (UTC)His skin felt like paper beneath my fingers, but it warmed as I brushed my hand over his face. His hand, as it took mine, was strong, rough, harder than it had been that first day by the lake called Michigan, toughened by the long month behind us. And I reached out to him, or he reached out to me, and the first meeting of our lips was something I had never thought of but waited for every day. It was everything finally falling into place.
I tried to pick one sentence from that passage to quote, but I truly loved all of it. Such a lovely description of both Ray's fragility and his strength, and the kiss was wonderfully written.
Looking forward to your next fic. Oh, and welcome to the fandom. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 12:50 am (UTC)Second of all, thank you! That's very much how I see Ray too -- he's so tough most of the time, but then so easily breakable in some ways. It's one of the things I (and, I expect, Fraser) love about him.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-08 02:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 12:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-10 08:22 pm (UTC)Lovely, lovely descriptions, too. This is a GREAT line:
"Until we do," he said, and I felt his hands press into my stomach, "you think you could be my reaching-out hand? You think you could do that for me, Fraser?"
*happy sigh* Yes. Just...yes. Very Ray. Very real. Very beautifully stated.
You have a real feel for these characters. So glad you're writing!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-16 08:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-17 06:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-17 06:49 am (UTC)