Fic - Soliloquy in Circles - F/K - PG-13
Oct. 27th, 2008 11:46 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
quoshara.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_slashTitle: "Soliloquy in Circles"
Author: Quoshara and Speak_me_fair
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Rating: PG-13 (but no more than the series is)
Warnings: Only if you consider pre-slash as a warning.
Summary: Hamsters. Why did it have to be hamsters?
There were days when Ray didn't so much wonder as to why he'd punched Fraser, as wonder first of all how come he'd taken so long to do it, and secondly why he'd never done it again.
Ok, well the last was because Fraser hit back hard. In theory, he should be doing it a lot more.
Mostly when conversations started with 'Well, you see, Ray...' and then went on in a sort of monologue for the next five minutes and left him even more confused at the end than when Fraser had started.
Which was usually the point at which Fraser licked something disgusting and made the punching-him bit all the more relevant.
Which was why, when he looked like he was spacing out? Really he was just fantasizing about one good punch.
Not kissing. Ever. He definitely never went there at all.
Or other things, ever... Although, with all the use that Fraser put his tongue to, he was probably very good at many of the things that Ray was also not thinking of.
And especially the things he never ever thought about after a couple of beers, and absolutely didn't take a single one of those thoughts into the shower with him in the morning, and it was a good job he was so good at not-thinking, because otherwise? He'd be in serious trouble.
And trouble of the Fraser kind would only lead to more Fraser explanations, and more longing for punches and thinking of things he shouldn't think. It was a vicious circle.
It would all just be so much easier if Fraser didn't keep expecting a response after he'd stopped talking. Like Ray had actually heard anything he'd said and wasn't like one of those dogs in the cartoons who just heard sound until its name was used. Which he kind of was, because what with the not-thinking and the not-listening and the not-looking, he was really finding it all way harder than it should have been to come up with something appropriate.
Useful had gone out the window a few months back.
Sometimes he wondered if going to the gym and going a few rounds with someone would help. Maybe if someone punched him for a change, it might knock his brain back into trim and knock all those Fraser thoughts out.
No. No one hit that hard.
And the last time he'd tried it, Fraser had patched him up, and been encouraging, and it so hadn't helped.
Hadn't helped because an encouraging Fraser was a sympathetic Fraser and that all lead right back to those same thoughts - thoughts of sympathy and just exactly what Fraser could do to make him feel much, much better. And no… no…
Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery and kiss the guy. How bad could it be? Either Fraser would kiss him back, something Ray considered a long shot, or Fraser would punch him. And maybe Fraser might be the one person who actually *could* manage to knock those thoughts right out of his head.
Except, oh, God, this was Fraser, and so he wouldn't get anything but another long, long, long talk and he'd be understanding or some shit like that and then Ray would be right back where he started, only with things like 'natural reaction to enforced proximity' buzzing around in his head
So really, most anyway you looked at it, Ray was screwed. Well and truly screwed, in all ways but the one that might help.
"Ray? Ray? Ray? Is something wrong?" Yes, it was Fraser, standing over him in those ridiculous puffy pants and that scratchy red jacket, and in spite of it looking like someone's - not his, not his, GOD so not his - idea of a wet dream brought to life.
Which was just not fair, because what was he supposed to say? 'Well, yeah, actually, Fraser, cause all this not-thinking is starting to make me loopy, and I've got the perfect solution.'? Really not a good plan. Okay, maybe it would be a good plan, in another universe where it wasn't him, but since he was stuck with this one....
"Yeah. No! I'm fine. Just....thinking about stuff." Or not
"Ah." Fraser nodded slowly. It was the answer that meant that Fraser didn't believe him, or was just biding his time until he could safely guilt the information out of Ray, or maybe, just maybe, that his brain was doing those hamster wheel circles that Ray's did when he was trying to figure something out.
But he doubted that Fraser's hamsters circled in the same directions as his did. Which really, when you thought about it, was what was causing his hamsters to go ninety miles per hour in the first place.
In a way, it was probably a good thing he had a turtle, since they didn't do that empathy thing. At least, his didn't. Maybe he just had a non-empathetic turtle and every one else's....did stuff. And Fraser was still looking at him.
"Dinner. We should have some." Ray blurted out. "I'm done here. Are you done here? If you are, we could go get some dinner."
He was pathetic, really… and blathered like one of those kids in that Vampire movie he'd watched the other night.
Fraser's hamsters might have been going in completely opposite directions to the ones Ray had, but they seemed to have caught the ninety-mile-an-hour thing, because it took him a long pause and an eyebrow rub before he said a bit vaguely, "Ah, yes. Yes I am."
"Good. Because it's time for me to get off anyway." Oh god. "I mean my shift's over. I can leave now."
"Yes," Fraser said, sounding as though the endless patience he had was wearing pretty thin. "Quite. Shall we, then?
"Yes. I'll just grab my jacket." Ray was beginning to feel like he was watching a train wreck… or maybe caught back in that Vampire movie, wondering if he was going to be the next victim.
And just to make the perfect end to a perfect day, when he turned round, Welsh and Fraser were exchanging the best 'what the hell?' look he had ever seen.
"Are you ready?" He almost growled out the words, then caught himself. It wasn't Fraser's fault that he had hamster brain, Fraser was his friend, if nothing else and, shit, he'd just stop there. "Food is calling me. I can smell the Kung Pow chicken from here."
"Yes, Ray," Fraser said, back to endlessly-fucking-patient. Anyone else would have hit him by now.
But anyone else wouldn't have been Fraser, and shit, there went the circles again.
"Or um… we could do Italian if you'd rather…" Ray slid his jacket on for distraction and started down the hallway, trusting Fraser to follow.
"Quite all right. I'd hate to get between you and the siren call of Kung Pao chicken," Fraser said very dryly from behind him.
"When it comes to food, I'm easy," Ray shrugged. And when it comes to you, but we'll just leave that part to Mr. Hamster. "So whatever you want is fine, Fraser."
Fraser opened his mouth, and Ray just knew he was going to suggest some place in the middle of a really bad neighbourhood that served stewed lichen or something, but instead he did a visible hundred-and-eighty-degree mental turn and said, "No, I agree. Chinese sounds extremely appealing."
Ray stood still for all of five seconds. "Golden Noodle it is then."
That was… that was just odd. Not that he and Fraser had never had Chinese food together before, but usually there was a lot more banter involved as they hashed things around and then finally agreed to something. This sudden change had Ray all turned over.
Maybe Fraser didn't feel well. Maybe he was sick and wasn't telling Ray. Or he was being nice to him for some particular reason. Maybe he'd decided to go back to Canada and was trying to butter Ray up before telling him. Well, isn't that just peachy? He was going to get partner dumped right between the egg rolls and the Mu Gu Gai Pan.
But Fraser didn't really look like he had something particularly important to say, and he didn't seem sick. He looked a bit confused, but that was it.
"Welcome to my world," Ray muttered under his breath as they walked out the door and moved toward the GTO. He wondered absently that if he was confused and Fraser was confused, if their two confusions would cancel each other out and they'd suddenly both be granted absolute clarity.
Nah….
"You know, Ray," Fraser said, out of absolutely nowhere, "it's often easier if one verbalizes one's thoughts rather than simply relying on answering one's own patterns."
And that, even for Fraser, was a particularly roundabout way of asking what the hell was going on in Ray's head, which was pretty much anyone's guess anyway, so hey.
"My only thoughts at the moment are exactly how long it's going to take me to get my butt in a booth at the Magic Noodle and get a Sapporo in my hand." Ray unlocked the GTO and climbed into the driver's seat, waiting for Fraser to do the same on his side. "Because all I can think about right now is food and beer. It's been a long day."
It hadn't been, particularly, except in his head, but he figured Fraser was probably going to call any answer good right then.
"Then maybe you'd rather just drop me off at the Consulate and go on your own?" Fraser offered. "That way you can go right home."
"No. It's cool, Fraser." Ray said as he pulled out and headed for the Golden Noodle. And it was. No matter how confused and hamsterish his brain got, there was one thing the two of them agreed on - an evening spent with Fraser was a damn sight better than one spent with his turtle.
And of course, Fraser couldn't just let it drop like anyone normal. Hell, he couldn't even push like anyone normal, he had to be all freaking polite about it, even if he did sound like ten kinds of doubtful.
"Ah. If you're sure..." The sentence begged for an ending, which was pretty unFraserish, unless he was going to start some random story to help explain his point, which Ray had got just fine, thank you very much. But no, he just sat there. With the unfinished sentence. Great.
"I'm really, totally, completely sure, Frase," he said, and wasn't that a great end to a sentence? Look, wow, all those adjectives, he was vocabulary guy, and yeah, now would probably be a great time to stop with the manic grin, because he was probably looking like more of a freak than he felt.
"Very well, Ray. Right.."
"Right."
"No, you need to turn right at the light to get to Golden Noodle," Fraser reminded him.
"Oh." Of course he did and he probably would have missed the turn if Fraser hadn't told him and the way his brain was working they'd have been in Milwaukee before it registered.
He could, perhaps, have taken the turn a little less abruptly. Or maybe waited for the signal. Or maybe not pissed off half the drivers in Chicago by doing what Fraser said, which, huh, really pretty normal so why was he worrying about it? Plus Fraser was actually looking reassured, like he'd got back into normal, which yeah, he pretty much had. Ray took a very deep breath and reminded himself that weird was good, weird was fine, and weird was what everyone expected from him these days, so it was all fine.
The GTO squalled to a stop moments later in front of the Golden Noodle, Ray leaping out almost before he tugged the keys free from the ignition. "Right in front. How many times does that happen, Frase, I ask you?"
"Well, actually, Ray, it is in fact quite a high percentage of times, at least on the occasions of my visits here, but I take your point."
Which was good, because if Fraser had actually started quoting statistics? Ray really was going to have had to hit him.
"Yeah, that's because we go after work. If we got here when normal people do then…." Ray's voice trailed off. Yeah, normal people. Which he was really starting to believe that he wasn't and that he pretty much knew Fraser wasn't.
Fortunately, they hit the door at about that time and Soonie, the owner, greeted them, keeping Ray from continuing that train of thought out loud.
Fraser, of course, launched into a long and incomprehensible conversation with her that Ray already knew wasn't in Chinese, because that didn't exist, and wasn't in Mandarin, because Fraser's Mandarin wasn't as good as whatever-it-was he and Soonie were rattling away in, and wasn't it fortunate that she just happened to come from some area where Fraser spoke the dialect - and oh God he'd just thought in Fraser-speak and he really needed food, because something was gonna have to shut his brain up before he started hitting himself.
Of course, this conversation was keeping him from more important things, "Fraser? Beer… and food. "
Ray wasn't trying to be rude, especially, he just wanted the priorities to be observed. Beer, food, and if all went well, some conversation that would de-hamsterize his brain.
And he must have got the tone of his voice at least almost not-rude, because Fraser didn't frown at him and say something apologetic-sounding to Soonie that even Ray could pretty much understand, he just looked a bit embarrassed, and Ray was good enough at the Twenty Different Kinds of Fraser's Social Embarrassment to get that he was embarrassed because he'd been keeping Ray waiting, not because Ray had interrupted his conversation.
"Yes, of course," he said, and he wasn't humoring the lunatic, he was being all genuine, and wasn't it sad that Ray had started to crave that, knowing that he hadn't screwed up in some way that only existed in Fraser's mad book of rules, and was kind of, almost, approved of and acceptable?
But it was a heady feeling, that approval, and suddenly Ray almost froze and wondered if that should be added to his list of "Things I'm not thinking about". Because craving approval had been something he normally would have called a Stella-thought, and having Stella-thoughts about Fraser was just wrong, bad and… "Hey, Soonie, we'll start with a couple of Sapporo's. That okay, Frase?"
"Ah, yes?" Fraser was sounding a bit tentative as well, and Ray had one of those moments that he was always being told were epiphanies, but were really kind of small for that, because weren't epiphanies supposed to change the world or something? But there was that sound in Fraser's voice, and it wasn't like a bright light or anything, more like someone had hit Ray over the head with a wad of paper and told him in really small words that yeah, Fraser needed approval too, even if it was over stupid things like having a beer.
Soonie gave a nod, handed them menus and went off to get their beer. "Cool, Frase, glad to see you relaxing enough to have a drink. That's what buddies do on a Friday night - relax with a couple of brews and some good Chinese. Well not always Chinese but still the thoughts right."
"So I gather." And there went the patented Fraser I-am-about-to-say-something-only-I-find-amusing-but-oh-why-not mouth twitch. "Occasionally it's pizza."
"There ya go." Ray nodded solemnly, as if Fraser had said something profound rather than slightly amusing. He managed to hold the expression for all of three seconds then gave him a big grin. "So, what looks good, huh?"
And of course that gave him even more time to keep de-hamsterizing, because Fraser was off again on some explanation as to what would be good and what had been recommended before and calling Soonie over and then suggesting more stuff, and Ray just nodded and went along with it and sometimes repeated the last few words to make it sound like he was listening properly rather than just letting it all wash over him and rub out all the nasty little irritated knots in his brain. Of course, he'd probably just agreed to trying something that belonged in the trash can part of a kitchen, but hey. Not like it wouldn't taste good, and as long as he didn't ask, he could deal.
Except then the food started arriving and it was… well, it was difficult. Not the dealing, but the food its self. He wasn't sure how, physically, he was supposed to eat it with a fork, let alone chopsticks. "Um, Frase?"
"Oh. I'm sorry, Ray. You have to use your fingers." Fraser went on so demonstrate, wrapping the meat and vegetable bits in some kind of leaf that he was sure was not lettuce but had some odd name that began with a sound like a chicken clucking.
"Uh...." Ray's idea of finger food started with nachos and ended with pizza and had the weird things that were mostly pastry and partly a scarily small amount of mangled fish, somewhere in the middle. He looked at the chicken-lettuce and wondered if it would bite back if he messed around with it too much.
Then Fraser stuffed a parcel of all the whatever-it was into his mouth (which must have been open, and wasn't that an attractive thought?) and what with the I-just-licked-Fraser's-fingers and the oh-my-God-that-is-amazing and the general brain frying he could almost hear, he stopped wondering.
"What do you think?"
Oh… Fraser was talking to him. Asking him a question and yes, he probably should answer it as soon as he managed to get messages from his mouth to his brain and then back to his mouth for an answer. "Wow."
He wasn't exactly sure which bit of it he meant, and he really had no clue which bit of it Fraser thought he meant, but it seemed to work as an answer, because he got one of the very rare and completely genuine smiles back in response.
"You liked it."
"Yeah, it's good." The food and the fingers.
"I'm glad, Ray, because I know that sometimes you're not very open to trying new things but I thought this would be alright because I don't think it has anything in it, really, that you would think of as… weird." And there was that smile and then Fraser demonstrating one more time how to roll up every thing in the chicken-lettuce so that it wouldn't slop out on your clothes.
"Hey." If Fraser was doing babble, then he could - what was it? Oh yeah, return the courtesy - and do straightforward and honest. "I pretty much don't care as long as I don't know it's weird." He shrugged, a bit disappointed by how nothing-ish that had sounded, when it had seemed really kind of important when he thought of saying it. He turned his attention back to the not very neat parcel he was making, and then looked up again when Fraser stayed silent, wondering if he'd got something wrong.
Fraser, though, had that wad of paper over the head look, and was nodding, slowly. "I - yes," he said eventually
And wasn't that a kick in the head? Fraser was sitting there looking remarkably like a hooked trout, so what else could Ray do? He filled the open mouth with chicken lettuce and stuffing.
Fraser didn't lick Ray's fingers, though, even completely taken aback and imitating the fish even more by snapping his mouth shut in surprise. In fact, it was a pretty good thing Ray had great reflexes, because otherwise he had the feeling his fingers would have still been in there, which was a thought that made the hamster in his brain roll over and open one curious eye. Between incipient hamsterdom and Fraser looking caught between horror and apology and something completely un-Fraserish that in anyone else would have translated to Ray having something thrown at him, it was getting really difficult not to just start laughing. He was pretty certain that if he did, it would be a giggle.
The mental hamster buried its head in his mental sawdust and gave up on him.
"Not a drip." Ray said, as if he really had been mostly concerned with making sure he'd rolled the whole thing up correctly. "Nothing on the table, nothing on the red suit… Hell, I even managed to avoid getting any on your chin."
He gave Fraser one of his most endearing grins. At least he hoped it was endearing, or at least that it looked more like a grin than baring his teeth like a lion does when it sees a limping antelope.
Fraser swallowed, still looking as though Ray had just force-fed him puffer fish that might not have been properly cleaned. Hell, for all Ray knew, he had, minus the improper cleaning, of course. "Thank you," he said eventually, in a rather strangled voice, and then launched into a story that even for Fraser, had no relevance to anything that had happened in anyone's lifetime, let alone the day or the immediate circumstances, and Ray nodded in what he hoped were the right places, and that was, pretty much, that. Except for the little speculative looks Fraser kept giving him, that had nothing to do with the bits of story Ray actually heard, or the tone of Fraser's voice.
Inside Ray's head, the hamster extricated itself from the sawdust, went into a corner, scribbled on a piece of paper, and stuck it up on its cage door.
It read, inexplicably, I GIVE UP.
Then it pulled down the blinds, and okay, his mental hamster had a way too active life and probably a better apartment than Ray did.
They finished up their food, downing another beer… or maybe two… as they went. Well, one more for Fraser, Ray was certain, but he thought he had two…or three. Not enough to make him 'impaired' certainly, but enough to make him relaxed and happy. He was truly unwound by the time the meal was over. And thank God it was Friday, so no work tomorrow and he could…
Could what?
He hadn't made any plans. All he had to look forward to was a weekend spent doing laundry and talking to his turtle, and hoping that Monday came quickly so he could get back to work. Back to Fraser came a tiny voice in his head that, since the hamster was on a break had to be some other kind of animal…possibly a lizard.
For once, he found he was hoping something bizarre and probably dangerous would happen, just so the weekend would be over faster. Either that or so he could postpone his laundry again, but then that probably wasn't a good idea, since if it went on much longer without getting done, he'd have more than literate hamsters and possible lizards to worry about talking to him.
Sentient laundry was never a good thing.
"You want to come back to my place for awhile?" He'd actually said that…out loud too apparently. Ray wasn't sure if he were more surprised or Fraser. Not that Fraser had never been to his place but not frequently and usually for some reason other than to just…hang out.
He could see the forty really good reasons why not going through Fraser's mind, almost as quickly as he must be thinking them. Most of them were Dief-related, and those that weren't were Turnbull, which kind of led back to Dief, and yeah, Ray could accept that combination really was a valid point as to why Fraser couldn't stay away for too long. He was just getting ready to make Fraser's apologies for him, because come to think of it, he could have chosen a better time, when Fraser said with an odd kind of firmness, as though he were answering his own little hamster - "Yes. Yes, I would." He looked a bit surprised at himself, but in no danger of changing his mind.
"Greatness," And it was, really. Ray stood and went to pay their bill, giving Sookie a hug and nice tip as well. Then held the door open for Fraser when they got to the exit because, well, sometimes there was time for courtesy, and he figured this just might be that time.
The Wad of Epiphany Paper had obviously hit Fraser again, because he was giving Ray that odd look again as he walked through the door, only this time he was keeping his mouth very firmly closed.
Which was the point when Ray discovered that in fact it was a tree frog, not a lizard, and when it was pleased with itself it did colorful little froggy dances.
He really, really hated his brain.
But at least he'd worked out that it wasn't hitting Fraser he needed to do to get everything to shut up.
The tree frog made a smug noise, and vanished.
Maybe it had gone off to have beer and Chinese food with the hamster. Maybe they could invite Fraser's possible hamster over and they could have a party. And maybe he could just get behind the wheel of the GTO and drive…but not to Milwaukee.
Author: Quoshara and Speak_me_fair
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Rating: PG-13 (but no more than the series is)
Warnings: Only if you consider pre-slash as a warning.
Summary: Hamsters. Why did it have to be hamsters?
There were days when Ray didn't so much wonder as to why he'd punched Fraser, as wonder first of all how come he'd taken so long to do it, and secondly why he'd never done it again.
Ok, well the last was because Fraser hit back hard. In theory, he should be doing it a lot more.
Mostly when conversations started with 'Well, you see, Ray...' and then went on in a sort of monologue for the next five minutes and left him even more confused at the end than when Fraser had started.
Which was usually the point at which Fraser licked something disgusting and made the punching-him bit all the more relevant.
Which was why, when he looked like he was spacing out? Really he was just fantasizing about one good punch.
Not kissing. Ever. He definitely never went there at all.
Or other things, ever... Although, with all the use that Fraser put his tongue to, he was probably very good at many of the things that Ray was also not thinking of.
And especially the things he never ever thought about after a couple of beers, and absolutely didn't take a single one of those thoughts into the shower with him in the morning, and it was a good job he was so good at not-thinking, because otherwise? He'd be in serious trouble.
And trouble of the Fraser kind would only lead to more Fraser explanations, and more longing for punches and thinking of things he shouldn't think. It was a vicious circle.
It would all just be so much easier if Fraser didn't keep expecting a response after he'd stopped talking. Like Ray had actually heard anything he'd said and wasn't like one of those dogs in the cartoons who just heard sound until its name was used. Which he kind of was, because what with the not-thinking and the not-listening and the not-looking, he was really finding it all way harder than it should have been to come up with something appropriate.
Useful had gone out the window a few months back.
Sometimes he wondered if going to the gym and going a few rounds with someone would help. Maybe if someone punched him for a change, it might knock his brain back into trim and knock all those Fraser thoughts out.
No. No one hit that hard.
And the last time he'd tried it, Fraser had patched him up, and been encouraging, and it so hadn't helped.
Hadn't helped because an encouraging Fraser was a sympathetic Fraser and that all lead right back to those same thoughts - thoughts of sympathy and just exactly what Fraser could do to make him feel much, much better. And no… no…
Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery and kiss the guy. How bad could it be? Either Fraser would kiss him back, something Ray considered a long shot, or Fraser would punch him. And maybe Fraser might be the one person who actually *could* manage to knock those thoughts right out of his head.
Except, oh, God, this was Fraser, and so he wouldn't get anything but another long, long, long talk and he'd be understanding or some shit like that and then Ray would be right back where he started, only with things like 'natural reaction to enforced proximity' buzzing around in his head
So really, most anyway you looked at it, Ray was screwed. Well and truly screwed, in all ways but the one that might help.
"Ray? Ray? Ray? Is something wrong?" Yes, it was Fraser, standing over him in those ridiculous puffy pants and that scratchy red jacket, and in spite of it looking like someone's - not his, not his, GOD so not his - idea of a wet dream brought to life.
Which was just not fair, because what was he supposed to say? 'Well, yeah, actually, Fraser, cause all this not-thinking is starting to make me loopy, and I've got the perfect solution.'? Really not a good plan. Okay, maybe it would be a good plan, in another universe where it wasn't him, but since he was stuck with this one....
"Yeah. No! I'm fine. Just....thinking about stuff." Or not
"Ah." Fraser nodded slowly. It was the answer that meant that Fraser didn't believe him, or was just biding his time until he could safely guilt the information out of Ray, or maybe, just maybe, that his brain was doing those hamster wheel circles that Ray's did when he was trying to figure something out.
But he doubted that Fraser's hamsters circled in the same directions as his did. Which really, when you thought about it, was what was causing his hamsters to go ninety miles per hour in the first place.
In a way, it was probably a good thing he had a turtle, since they didn't do that empathy thing. At least, his didn't. Maybe he just had a non-empathetic turtle and every one else's....did stuff. And Fraser was still looking at him.
"Dinner. We should have some." Ray blurted out. "I'm done here. Are you done here? If you are, we could go get some dinner."
He was pathetic, really… and blathered like one of those kids in that Vampire movie he'd watched the other night.
Fraser's hamsters might have been going in completely opposite directions to the ones Ray had, but they seemed to have caught the ninety-mile-an-hour thing, because it took him a long pause and an eyebrow rub before he said a bit vaguely, "Ah, yes. Yes I am."
"Good. Because it's time for me to get off anyway." Oh god. "I mean my shift's over. I can leave now."
"Yes," Fraser said, sounding as though the endless patience he had was wearing pretty thin. "Quite. Shall we, then?
"Yes. I'll just grab my jacket." Ray was beginning to feel like he was watching a train wreck… or maybe caught back in that Vampire movie, wondering if he was going to be the next victim.
And just to make the perfect end to a perfect day, when he turned round, Welsh and Fraser were exchanging the best 'what the hell?' look he had ever seen.
"Are you ready?" He almost growled out the words, then caught himself. It wasn't Fraser's fault that he had hamster brain, Fraser was his friend, if nothing else and, shit, he'd just stop there. "Food is calling me. I can smell the Kung Pow chicken from here."
"Yes, Ray," Fraser said, back to endlessly-fucking-patient. Anyone else would have hit him by now.
But anyone else wouldn't have been Fraser, and shit, there went the circles again.
"Or um… we could do Italian if you'd rather…" Ray slid his jacket on for distraction and started down the hallway, trusting Fraser to follow.
"Quite all right. I'd hate to get between you and the siren call of Kung Pao chicken," Fraser said very dryly from behind him.
"When it comes to food, I'm easy," Ray shrugged. And when it comes to you, but we'll just leave that part to Mr. Hamster. "So whatever you want is fine, Fraser."
Fraser opened his mouth, and Ray just knew he was going to suggest some place in the middle of a really bad neighbourhood that served stewed lichen or something, but instead he did a visible hundred-and-eighty-degree mental turn and said, "No, I agree. Chinese sounds extremely appealing."
Ray stood still for all of five seconds. "Golden Noodle it is then."
That was… that was just odd. Not that he and Fraser had never had Chinese food together before, but usually there was a lot more banter involved as they hashed things around and then finally agreed to something. This sudden change had Ray all turned over.
Maybe Fraser didn't feel well. Maybe he was sick and wasn't telling Ray. Or he was being nice to him for some particular reason. Maybe he'd decided to go back to Canada and was trying to butter Ray up before telling him. Well, isn't that just peachy? He was going to get partner dumped right between the egg rolls and the Mu Gu Gai Pan.
But Fraser didn't really look like he had something particularly important to say, and he didn't seem sick. He looked a bit confused, but that was it.
"Welcome to my world," Ray muttered under his breath as they walked out the door and moved toward the GTO. He wondered absently that if he was confused and Fraser was confused, if their two confusions would cancel each other out and they'd suddenly both be granted absolute clarity.
Nah….
"You know, Ray," Fraser said, out of absolutely nowhere, "it's often easier if one verbalizes one's thoughts rather than simply relying on answering one's own patterns."
And that, even for Fraser, was a particularly roundabout way of asking what the hell was going on in Ray's head, which was pretty much anyone's guess anyway, so hey.
"My only thoughts at the moment are exactly how long it's going to take me to get my butt in a booth at the Magic Noodle and get a Sapporo in my hand." Ray unlocked the GTO and climbed into the driver's seat, waiting for Fraser to do the same on his side. "Because all I can think about right now is food and beer. It's been a long day."
It hadn't been, particularly, except in his head, but he figured Fraser was probably going to call any answer good right then.
"Then maybe you'd rather just drop me off at the Consulate and go on your own?" Fraser offered. "That way you can go right home."
"No. It's cool, Fraser." Ray said as he pulled out and headed for the Golden Noodle. And it was. No matter how confused and hamsterish his brain got, there was one thing the two of them agreed on - an evening spent with Fraser was a damn sight better than one spent with his turtle.
And of course, Fraser couldn't just let it drop like anyone normal. Hell, he couldn't even push like anyone normal, he had to be all freaking polite about it, even if he did sound like ten kinds of doubtful.
"Ah. If you're sure..." The sentence begged for an ending, which was pretty unFraserish, unless he was going to start some random story to help explain his point, which Ray had got just fine, thank you very much. But no, he just sat there. With the unfinished sentence. Great.
"I'm really, totally, completely sure, Frase," he said, and wasn't that a great end to a sentence? Look, wow, all those adjectives, he was vocabulary guy, and yeah, now would probably be a great time to stop with the manic grin, because he was probably looking like more of a freak than he felt.
"Very well, Ray. Right.."
"Right."
"No, you need to turn right at the light to get to Golden Noodle," Fraser reminded him.
"Oh." Of course he did and he probably would have missed the turn if Fraser hadn't told him and the way his brain was working they'd have been in Milwaukee before it registered.
He could, perhaps, have taken the turn a little less abruptly. Or maybe waited for the signal. Or maybe not pissed off half the drivers in Chicago by doing what Fraser said, which, huh, really pretty normal so why was he worrying about it? Plus Fraser was actually looking reassured, like he'd got back into normal, which yeah, he pretty much had. Ray took a very deep breath and reminded himself that weird was good, weird was fine, and weird was what everyone expected from him these days, so it was all fine.
The GTO squalled to a stop moments later in front of the Golden Noodle, Ray leaping out almost before he tugged the keys free from the ignition. "Right in front. How many times does that happen, Frase, I ask you?"
"Well, actually, Ray, it is in fact quite a high percentage of times, at least on the occasions of my visits here, but I take your point."
Which was good, because if Fraser had actually started quoting statistics? Ray really was going to have had to hit him.
"Yeah, that's because we go after work. If we got here when normal people do then…." Ray's voice trailed off. Yeah, normal people. Which he was really starting to believe that he wasn't and that he pretty much knew Fraser wasn't.
Fortunately, they hit the door at about that time and Soonie, the owner, greeted them, keeping Ray from continuing that train of thought out loud.
Fraser, of course, launched into a long and incomprehensible conversation with her that Ray already knew wasn't in Chinese, because that didn't exist, and wasn't in Mandarin, because Fraser's Mandarin wasn't as good as whatever-it-was he and Soonie were rattling away in, and wasn't it fortunate that she just happened to come from some area where Fraser spoke the dialect - and oh God he'd just thought in Fraser-speak and he really needed food, because something was gonna have to shut his brain up before he started hitting himself.
Of course, this conversation was keeping him from more important things, "Fraser? Beer… and food. "
Ray wasn't trying to be rude, especially, he just wanted the priorities to be observed. Beer, food, and if all went well, some conversation that would de-hamsterize his brain.
And he must have got the tone of his voice at least almost not-rude, because Fraser didn't frown at him and say something apologetic-sounding to Soonie that even Ray could pretty much understand, he just looked a bit embarrassed, and Ray was good enough at the Twenty Different Kinds of Fraser's Social Embarrassment to get that he was embarrassed because he'd been keeping Ray waiting, not because Ray had interrupted his conversation.
"Yes, of course," he said, and he wasn't humoring the lunatic, he was being all genuine, and wasn't it sad that Ray had started to crave that, knowing that he hadn't screwed up in some way that only existed in Fraser's mad book of rules, and was kind of, almost, approved of and acceptable?
But it was a heady feeling, that approval, and suddenly Ray almost froze and wondered if that should be added to his list of "Things I'm not thinking about". Because craving approval had been something he normally would have called a Stella-thought, and having Stella-thoughts about Fraser was just wrong, bad and… "Hey, Soonie, we'll start with a couple of Sapporo's. That okay, Frase?"
"Ah, yes?" Fraser was sounding a bit tentative as well, and Ray had one of those moments that he was always being told were epiphanies, but were really kind of small for that, because weren't epiphanies supposed to change the world or something? But there was that sound in Fraser's voice, and it wasn't like a bright light or anything, more like someone had hit Ray over the head with a wad of paper and told him in really small words that yeah, Fraser needed approval too, even if it was over stupid things like having a beer.
Soonie gave a nod, handed them menus and went off to get their beer. "Cool, Frase, glad to see you relaxing enough to have a drink. That's what buddies do on a Friday night - relax with a couple of brews and some good Chinese. Well not always Chinese but still the thoughts right."
"So I gather." And there went the patented Fraser I-am-about-to-say-something-only-I-find-amusing-but-oh-why-not mouth twitch. "Occasionally it's pizza."
"There ya go." Ray nodded solemnly, as if Fraser had said something profound rather than slightly amusing. He managed to hold the expression for all of three seconds then gave him a big grin. "So, what looks good, huh?"
And of course that gave him even more time to keep de-hamsterizing, because Fraser was off again on some explanation as to what would be good and what had been recommended before and calling Soonie over and then suggesting more stuff, and Ray just nodded and went along with it and sometimes repeated the last few words to make it sound like he was listening properly rather than just letting it all wash over him and rub out all the nasty little irritated knots in his brain. Of course, he'd probably just agreed to trying something that belonged in the trash can part of a kitchen, but hey. Not like it wouldn't taste good, and as long as he didn't ask, he could deal.
Except then the food started arriving and it was… well, it was difficult. Not the dealing, but the food its self. He wasn't sure how, physically, he was supposed to eat it with a fork, let alone chopsticks. "Um, Frase?"
"Oh. I'm sorry, Ray. You have to use your fingers." Fraser went on so demonstrate, wrapping the meat and vegetable bits in some kind of leaf that he was sure was not lettuce but had some odd name that began with a sound like a chicken clucking.
"Uh...." Ray's idea of finger food started with nachos and ended with pizza and had the weird things that were mostly pastry and partly a scarily small amount of mangled fish, somewhere in the middle. He looked at the chicken-lettuce and wondered if it would bite back if he messed around with it too much.
Then Fraser stuffed a parcel of all the whatever-it was into his mouth (which must have been open, and wasn't that an attractive thought?) and what with the I-just-licked-Fraser's-fingers and the oh-my-God-that-is-amazing and the general brain frying he could almost hear, he stopped wondering.
"What do you think?"
Oh… Fraser was talking to him. Asking him a question and yes, he probably should answer it as soon as he managed to get messages from his mouth to his brain and then back to his mouth for an answer. "Wow."
He wasn't exactly sure which bit of it he meant, and he really had no clue which bit of it Fraser thought he meant, but it seemed to work as an answer, because he got one of the very rare and completely genuine smiles back in response.
"You liked it."
"Yeah, it's good." The food and the fingers.
"I'm glad, Ray, because I know that sometimes you're not very open to trying new things but I thought this would be alright because I don't think it has anything in it, really, that you would think of as… weird." And there was that smile and then Fraser demonstrating one more time how to roll up every thing in the chicken-lettuce so that it wouldn't slop out on your clothes.
"Hey." If Fraser was doing babble, then he could - what was it? Oh yeah, return the courtesy - and do straightforward and honest. "I pretty much don't care as long as I don't know it's weird." He shrugged, a bit disappointed by how nothing-ish that had sounded, when it had seemed really kind of important when he thought of saying it. He turned his attention back to the not very neat parcel he was making, and then looked up again when Fraser stayed silent, wondering if he'd got something wrong.
Fraser, though, had that wad of paper over the head look, and was nodding, slowly. "I - yes," he said eventually
And wasn't that a kick in the head? Fraser was sitting there looking remarkably like a hooked trout, so what else could Ray do? He filled the open mouth with chicken lettuce and stuffing.
Fraser didn't lick Ray's fingers, though, even completely taken aback and imitating the fish even more by snapping his mouth shut in surprise. In fact, it was a pretty good thing Ray had great reflexes, because otherwise he had the feeling his fingers would have still been in there, which was a thought that made the hamster in his brain roll over and open one curious eye. Between incipient hamsterdom and Fraser looking caught between horror and apology and something completely un-Fraserish that in anyone else would have translated to Ray having something thrown at him, it was getting really difficult not to just start laughing. He was pretty certain that if he did, it would be a giggle.
The mental hamster buried its head in his mental sawdust and gave up on him.
"Not a drip." Ray said, as if he really had been mostly concerned with making sure he'd rolled the whole thing up correctly. "Nothing on the table, nothing on the red suit… Hell, I even managed to avoid getting any on your chin."
He gave Fraser one of his most endearing grins. At least he hoped it was endearing, or at least that it looked more like a grin than baring his teeth like a lion does when it sees a limping antelope.
Fraser swallowed, still looking as though Ray had just force-fed him puffer fish that might not have been properly cleaned. Hell, for all Ray knew, he had, minus the improper cleaning, of course. "Thank you," he said eventually, in a rather strangled voice, and then launched into a story that even for Fraser, had no relevance to anything that had happened in anyone's lifetime, let alone the day or the immediate circumstances, and Ray nodded in what he hoped were the right places, and that was, pretty much, that. Except for the little speculative looks Fraser kept giving him, that had nothing to do with the bits of story Ray actually heard, or the tone of Fraser's voice.
Inside Ray's head, the hamster extricated itself from the sawdust, went into a corner, scribbled on a piece of paper, and stuck it up on its cage door.
It read, inexplicably, I GIVE UP.
Then it pulled down the blinds, and okay, his mental hamster had a way too active life and probably a better apartment than Ray did.
They finished up their food, downing another beer… or maybe two… as they went. Well, one more for Fraser, Ray was certain, but he thought he had two…or three. Not enough to make him 'impaired' certainly, but enough to make him relaxed and happy. He was truly unwound by the time the meal was over. And thank God it was Friday, so no work tomorrow and he could…
Could what?
He hadn't made any plans. All he had to look forward to was a weekend spent doing laundry and talking to his turtle, and hoping that Monday came quickly so he could get back to work. Back to Fraser came a tiny voice in his head that, since the hamster was on a break had to be some other kind of animal…possibly a lizard.
For once, he found he was hoping something bizarre and probably dangerous would happen, just so the weekend would be over faster. Either that or so he could postpone his laundry again, but then that probably wasn't a good idea, since if it went on much longer without getting done, he'd have more than literate hamsters and possible lizards to worry about talking to him.
Sentient laundry was never a good thing.
"You want to come back to my place for awhile?" He'd actually said that…out loud too apparently. Ray wasn't sure if he were more surprised or Fraser. Not that Fraser had never been to his place but not frequently and usually for some reason other than to just…hang out.
He could see the forty really good reasons why not going through Fraser's mind, almost as quickly as he must be thinking them. Most of them were Dief-related, and those that weren't were Turnbull, which kind of led back to Dief, and yeah, Ray could accept that combination really was a valid point as to why Fraser couldn't stay away for too long. He was just getting ready to make Fraser's apologies for him, because come to think of it, he could have chosen a better time, when Fraser said with an odd kind of firmness, as though he were answering his own little hamster - "Yes. Yes, I would." He looked a bit surprised at himself, but in no danger of changing his mind.
"Greatness," And it was, really. Ray stood and went to pay their bill, giving Sookie a hug and nice tip as well. Then held the door open for Fraser when they got to the exit because, well, sometimes there was time for courtesy, and he figured this just might be that time.
The Wad of Epiphany Paper had obviously hit Fraser again, because he was giving Ray that odd look again as he walked through the door, only this time he was keeping his mouth very firmly closed.
Which was the point when Ray discovered that in fact it was a tree frog, not a lizard, and when it was pleased with itself it did colorful little froggy dances.
He really, really hated his brain.
But at least he'd worked out that it wasn't hitting Fraser he needed to do to get everything to shut up.
The tree frog made a smug noise, and vanished.
Maybe it had gone off to have beer and Chinese food with the hamster. Maybe they could invite Fraser's possible hamster over and they could have a party. And maybe he could just get behind the wheel of the GTO and drive…but not to Milwaukee.
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Date: 2008-10-28 07:55 pm (UTC)But Ray, they're only trying to help! *tickles hamster under his fuzzy little chin*
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Date: 2008-10-28 11:09 pm (UTC)Glad we could give you a laugh.
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Date: 2009-12-19 04:25 am (UTC)...you need to have that phrase coined darlin.
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Date: 2008-11-02 11:50 pm (UTC)The mental hamster buried its head in his mental sawdust and gave up on him.
Heeeeeee.
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Date: 2008-11-02 11:55 pm (UTC)Glad you liked it.
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Date: 2008-12-02 02:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-02 03:30 am (UTC)Glad you enjoyed this.
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Date: 2009-03-03 09:44 pm (UTC)So fun and sweet with the whole "I'm a man and won't admit to what I'm feeling and Oh god he's hot" thing.
~Alice~
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Date: 2009-03-04 12:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 01:04 am (UTC)Pre-slash can sometimes turn out very schmoopy or heavy with the navel-gazing. I feel what you did here, however, is sharp and funny.
My favourite lines:
Fraser swallowed, still looking as though Ray had just force-fed him puffer fish that might not have been properly cleaned. Hell, for all Ray knew, he had, minus the improper cleaning, of course. "Thank you," he said eventually, in a rather strangled voice, and then launched into a story that even for Fraser, had no relevance to anything that had happened in anyone's lifetime, let alone the day or the immediate circumstances, and Ray nodded in what he hoped were the right places, and that was, pretty much, that. Except for the little speculative looks Fraser kept giving him, that had nothing to do with the bits of story Ray actually heard, or the tone of Fraser's voice.
Inside Ray's head, the hamster extricated itself from the sawdust, went into a corner, scribbled on a piece of paper, and stuck it up on its cage door.
It read, inexplicably, I GIVE UP.
Hee, I dunno what it is about Ray's hamster brain that had me giggling like crazy.
One wishes there was a sequel just so we could read about what exactly happened once the boys returned to Ray's apartment... *g*
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Date: 2009-06-11 06:26 am (UTC)We'll probably get around to writing more sooner or later. We've got a couple of other things up at our site, but we never know which fandom is going to be biting us this week. *L* We do write in one or two different ones.
Writing from inside Ray K's head is a challenge, I think, because he's so alternately 'down to earth' and 'totally out there', it mixes together in such an odd and brilliant way.
Thanks for reading and your kind comments.
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Date: 2009-12-31 03:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-31 04:58 am (UTC)We may get back to this, some day. We just have a WIP line-up from here to eternity at the moment.