[WiP] TS-DS crossover
Mar. 19th, 2005 05:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ickaimpSo last night I'm telling MOrgan and Sean about my favourite song sung by the Whiskey Bards on St. Patty's day, about a girl who strangles her over-amourous suitor with her bra strap when Sean has to comment "Oh, so that's what happened to your boyfriend. No wonder we haven't heard from Dr. Kiwi in a while."
¬_¬
Still snickering, he wanders off to the bathroom and the phone rings.
Guess who?
Yup. My boyfriend, calling from about halfway across the world. ^^;; So I inform Kiwi of his evident demise when Sean walks back out. "Ahh! He's back from the grave!!!"
Dr. Kiwi took word of his demise very well all things considered. hee hee.
Thanks to Taranos who gave me the sweetest complement about our recent batch of Due South fics. Always a pleasure to disturb. ^____^
Hey, MOrgan? Does this work?
+ + +
Fraser had once commented to Ray that his cabin was a four-day hike from Chilcoot Pass. Once you got past the lava springs -which were damn neat- the pole cats and the poisonous tundra beetles. -Which weren't so neat.
What Fraser hadn't said was that it was about a half-day snowmobile ride from Chilcoot Pass. Snowmobiles ROCKED. Even if Ray was stuck holding on to Fraser's belt like some sort of second jacket as they passed through the wilderness at madcap speeds, the vaunted Dr. Sandburg doing a fair job at following him. They'd only had the one snowmobile that they'd arrived at town with, which was barely big enough for the two of them. The Doc had surprised them both by proving that he could not only handle a snowmobile, but he could also do it with finesse. Something about a lot of travelling in his younger, carefree days. Lotta pain there, not all hidden close to the surface.
So they'd rented a second snowmobile, added more provisions to it so that they'd have enough for three people instead of two for a while, and headed out, Dief following at his own pace. Which had been a huge relief off Ray's back. The sounds and smells of the suddenly crowded hospital had pushed his limits to the max and Fraser had to bring him out of one of those fugue states -zone outs, Dr. Sandburg called them- a few times. They sucked, making his head hurt even worse than it did.
But still, it was nice to be out of there, the clear air cleaning out his head. Even if they were taking a leap of faith that this guy knew what he was talking about. Between Fraser's polite act and Dr. Sandburg's smooth talking, they'd been out of there faster than he would have believed, the nurses grateful to have one less thing to worry about.
And if this Sandburg was correct, which Ray had a strong hunch that he was, they wouldn't have found anything anyway. Something kind of clicked into place when the good doctor had started to talk. Sentinels, Watchmen, whatever, he didn't understand it. Fraser probably would and that was the important part. But what he did get was that he wasn't tripping, it wasn't the isolation, he was -supposed- to be like this. It was... reassuring. Like a switch being turned on in the back of his head, the sudden reassurance that he didn't have to fight it.
Which is probably the time he'd stopped freaking out about the fact that he could do things he couldn't before. Hell, Fraser did things most people couldn't all the time and no one thought he was weird for it. Okay, yeah, they thought he was -weird-, but they thought it was some sort of Canadian thing.
Which it was and it wasn't, more of a -Fraser- type of thing, Ray got that. And that put it in a context he could understand. It wasn't a freakish stupid thing, it was more like an extension of the Fraser weirdness thing. Stuff like this didn't happen in Chicago.
But it did happen here. Hell, with his luck it had just been laying in wait for such time as he came to the great white north before it happened.
So, he wasn't going to waste energy denying that his senses were loony and he was probably kind of soft in the head. But he'd know that for years, only he had a very hard head, which was good because he got a lot of knocks to it. And he'd tried the denying thing with Stella and that sure as hell didn't work.
Therefore, he wasn't doing the denying thing. He was doing the Fraser thing, the -accepting- thing.
And hey, it was working. Pretty good at least. And it meant he got to hang with Fraser for a while longer, cause going back to Chicago like this was certainly out of the question. Chicago wasn't anything like this place, it was all noise and scents and crowds and people and everything that came with that. He was having enough trouble here, where even the silences were loud. And it wasn't like he had any rush to go back any time soon, with the whole Vecchio deal.
So therefore the immediate plan was simple. Hang with Fraser and this Sandburg guy. Learn how to keep this senses thing from completely driving him loonier than he already was. Everything else they could handle later.
Cabin first, then senses thing. Simple.
He liked simple. So did Fraser. The cabin was simple too, just two rooms. The bedroom and the main room... aw, shit.
One bed. Three guys.
Well, the Doc would just have to take the sofa with Dief, there was no way he was going to let Fraser sleep on the floor and there was no way he was sharing with Sandburg there. Nothing personal against the other guy, but Fraser was -his- best friend, -his- partner. Hell, they'd dealt with sharing a tent no bigger than a postage stamp for about a month without killing each other, they could do it here.
And he knew his way around the cabin by now, knew his way -blind-, which was greatness, and from what the Doc said, his sight should be returning in a day or two, as long as he didn't stress it. Which was why he was wearing sunglasses, even if he couldn't see and was keeping his eyes shut because he -knew- how Fraser drove snowmobiles. He had no intention of stressing it or anything else for the matter.
It was cool. So cool it was cold. Frozen.
And hey, the out-freak Fraser part? Definitely worth learning.
Ha.
+ + +
+ + +
Sorry, Ray decided to ramble... o_O
¬_¬
Still snickering, he wanders off to the bathroom and the phone rings.
Guess who?
Yup. My boyfriend, calling from about halfway across the world. ^^;; So I inform Kiwi of his evident demise when Sean walks back out. "Ahh! He's back from the grave!!!"
Dr. Kiwi took word of his demise very well all things considered. hee hee.
Thanks to Taranos who gave me the sweetest complement about our recent batch of Due South fics. Always a pleasure to disturb. ^____^
Hey, MOrgan? Does this work?
+ + +
Fraser had once commented to Ray that his cabin was a four-day hike from Chilcoot Pass. Once you got past the lava springs -which were damn neat- the pole cats and the poisonous tundra beetles. -Which weren't so neat.
What Fraser hadn't said was that it was about a half-day snowmobile ride from Chilcoot Pass. Snowmobiles ROCKED. Even if Ray was stuck holding on to Fraser's belt like some sort of second jacket as they passed through the wilderness at madcap speeds, the vaunted Dr. Sandburg doing a fair job at following him. They'd only had the one snowmobile that they'd arrived at town with, which was barely big enough for the two of them. The Doc had surprised them both by proving that he could not only handle a snowmobile, but he could also do it with finesse. Something about a lot of travelling in his younger, carefree days. Lotta pain there, not all hidden close to the surface.
So they'd rented a second snowmobile, added more provisions to it so that they'd have enough for three people instead of two for a while, and headed out, Dief following at his own pace. Which had been a huge relief off Ray's back. The sounds and smells of the suddenly crowded hospital had pushed his limits to the max and Fraser had to bring him out of one of those fugue states -zone outs, Dr. Sandburg called them- a few times. They sucked, making his head hurt even worse than it did.
But still, it was nice to be out of there, the clear air cleaning out his head. Even if they were taking a leap of faith that this guy knew what he was talking about. Between Fraser's polite act and Dr. Sandburg's smooth talking, they'd been out of there faster than he would have believed, the nurses grateful to have one less thing to worry about.
And if this Sandburg was correct, which Ray had a strong hunch that he was, they wouldn't have found anything anyway. Something kind of clicked into place when the good doctor had started to talk. Sentinels, Watchmen, whatever, he didn't understand it. Fraser probably would and that was the important part. But what he did get was that he wasn't tripping, it wasn't the isolation, he was -supposed- to be like this. It was... reassuring. Like a switch being turned on in the back of his head, the sudden reassurance that he didn't have to fight it.
Which is probably the time he'd stopped freaking out about the fact that he could do things he couldn't before. Hell, Fraser did things most people couldn't all the time and no one thought he was weird for it. Okay, yeah, they thought he was -weird-, but they thought it was some sort of Canadian thing.
Which it was and it wasn't, more of a -Fraser- type of thing, Ray got that. And that put it in a context he could understand. It wasn't a freakish stupid thing, it was more like an extension of the Fraser weirdness thing. Stuff like this didn't happen in Chicago.
But it did happen here. Hell, with his luck it had just been laying in wait for such time as he came to the great white north before it happened.
So, he wasn't going to waste energy denying that his senses were loony and he was probably kind of soft in the head. But he'd know that for years, only he had a very hard head, which was good because he got a lot of knocks to it. And he'd tried the denying thing with Stella and that sure as hell didn't work.
Therefore, he wasn't doing the denying thing. He was doing the Fraser thing, the -accepting- thing.
And hey, it was working. Pretty good at least. And it meant he got to hang with Fraser for a while longer, cause going back to Chicago like this was certainly out of the question. Chicago wasn't anything like this place, it was all noise and scents and crowds and people and everything that came with that. He was having enough trouble here, where even the silences were loud. And it wasn't like he had any rush to go back any time soon, with the whole Vecchio deal.
So therefore the immediate plan was simple. Hang with Fraser and this Sandburg guy. Learn how to keep this senses thing from completely driving him loonier than he already was. Everything else they could handle later.
Cabin first, then senses thing. Simple.
He liked simple. So did Fraser. The cabin was simple too, just two rooms. The bedroom and the main room... aw, shit.
One bed. Three guys.
Well, the Doc would just have to take the sofa with Dief, there was no way he was going to let Fraser sleep on the floor and there was no way he was sharing with Sandburg there. Nothing personal against the other guy, but Fraser was -his- best friend, -his- partner. Hell, they'd dealt with sharing a tent no bigger than a postage stamp for about a month without killing each other, they could do it here.
And he knew his way around the cabin by now, knew his way -blind-, which was greatness, and from what the Doc said, his sight should be returning in a day or two, as long as he didn't stress it. Which was why he was wearing sunglasses, even if he couldn't see and was keeping his eyes shut because he -knew- how Fraser drove snowmobiles. He had no intention of stressing it or anything else for the matter.
It was cool. So cool it was cold. Frozen.
And hey, the out-freak Fraser part? Definitely worth learning.
Ha.
+ + +
+ + +
Sorry, Ray decided to ramble... o_O
