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crack_van2004-03-09 09:04 pm
evilprettykitty.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-03-09 09:04 pm
The Border Between Life and Death by Speranza (NC-17)
Fandom: DUE SOUTH
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Author on LJ:
Author Website: http://trickster.org/speranza/
Why this must be read:
This is my favorite due South story, hands down. The first half of the story is about Ray and Stella, how they came together and how they fell apart. I love the history that Speranza creates for them. The second half of the story is Ray realizing he doesn't know Fraser as well as he thinks he does. I cry EVERY SINGLE TIME, no matter how many times I've read it.
"I mean, you're the one who's persistent, for God's sake. You're persistent as all hell."
Fraser sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "If I'm so persistent, Ray, then what am I doing here?" Ray mimed confusion and Fraser repeated: "Here." He waved his hand around the room. "Right here. What am I doing here?"
"I...don't know," Ray said slowly; he realized that he didn't know, and that furthermore, it had never really occurred to him to ask the question. "What are you doing here?"
"Excellent question. I've been mulling it myself." Fraser put his elbow on the desk and rested his chin in his hand. "Of course, yes, there's the obvious answer: I'm here because I'm being punished."
Ray felt sort of shocked. "Punished--whattya mean punished?"
"I mean punished. Being subjected to punishment. For bringing the killers of my father to justice." Fraser sighed wearily and closed his eyes. "You do remember the killers of my father, Ray? I talk about them all the time."
"Yeah, I know," Ray began, "but--"
"It may have occurred to you that this is not my normal milieu. Or did you suppose that I simply woke up one morning and said, 'You know, all this beautiful, wide-open countryside is really getting to me--I think I'd much prefer to live in a six by eight office in Chicago. Perhaps they might allow me to answer the telephone there.'"
Just at that moment the telephone on Fraser's desk rang, and Fraser sat up straight and picked up the receiver. "Good afternoon, Canadian Consulate." He listened for a few moments, all traces of sarcasm gone, his face again set in that blank expression that was totally bad news. "Yes, we can certainly help you with that. You'll need to come in and fill out form B-354. Yes. Yes, we have an entire stack of them. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes, unless of course there's a rush. Until 5:00 or by special appointment. You're most welcome, madam."
"Okay, so you're saying," Ray said, when Fraser'd put the receiver down, "that you're here because someone wanted to punish you."
"No, I'm here because of the tremendous number of Mounties wishing to be assigned to police the Yukon border," Fraser said, and put his tongue in his cheek.
"They don't want you," Ray said softly.
"Not even a little bit," Fraser agreed. "It was here or Russia and my Russian's not what it ought to be, unfortunately."
Ray felt sideswiped by this; totally gutpunched. "I didn't--I guess I hadn't realized. I'm sorry."
Fraser nodded and looked away, which was pretty much his way of accepting sympathy. "My relationship with Canada, Ray, bears more than a little resemblance to your current relationship with Stella. Which is to say--I want to go back, and they're not so keen to have me." His eyes drifted helplessly back to the picture behind Ray. "Unlike you, though, I've essentially stopped trying."
The Border Between Life and Death
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Author on LJ:
Author Website: http://trickster.org/speranza/
Why this must be read:
This is my favorite due South story, hands down. The first half of the story is about Ray and Stella, how they came together and how they fell apart. I love the history that Speranza creates for them. The second half of the story is Ray realizing he doesn't know Fraser as well as he thinks he does. I cry EVERY SINGLE TIME, no matter how many times I've read it.
"I mean, you're the one who's persistent, for God's sake. You're persistent as all hell."
Fraser sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "If I'm so persistent, Ray, then what am I doing here?" Ray mimed confusion and Fraser repeated: "Here." He waved his hand around the room. "Right here. What am I doing here?"
"I...don't know," Ray said slowly; he realized that he didn't know, and that furthermore, it had never really occurred to him to ask the question. "What are you doing here?"
"Excellent question. I've been mulling it myself." Fraser put his elbow on the desk and rested his chin in his hand. "Of course, yes, there's the obvious answer: I'm here because I'm being punished."
Ray felt sort of shocked. "Punished--whattya mean punished?"
"I mean punished. Being subjected to punishment. For bringing the killers of my father to justice." Fraser sighed wearily and closed his eyes. "You do remember the killers of my father, Ray? I talk about them all the time."
"Yeah, I know," Ray began, "but--"
"It may have occurred to you that this is not my normal milieu. Or did you suppose that I simply woke up one morning and said, 'You know, all this beautiful, wide-open countryside is really getting to me--I think I'd much prefer to live in a six by eight office in Chicago. Perhaps they might allow me to answer the telephone there.'"
Just at that moment the telephone on Fraser's desk rang, and Fraser sat up straight and picked up the receiver. "Good afternoon, Canadian Consulate." He listened for a few moments, all traces of sarcasm gone, his face again set in that blank expression that was totally bad news. "Yes, we can certainly help you with that. You'll need to come in and fill out form B-354. Yes. Yes, we have an entire stack of them. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes, unless of course there's a rush. Until 5:00 or by special appointment. You're most welcome, madam."
"Okay, so you're saying," Ray said, when Fraser'd put the receiver down, "that you're here because someone wanted to punish you."
"No, I'm here because of the tremendous number of Mounties wishing to be assigned to police the Yukon border," Fraser said, and put his tongue in his cheek.
"They don't want you," Ray said softly.
"Not even a little bit," Fraser agreed. "It was here or Russia and my Russian's not what it ought to be, unfortunately."
Ray felt sideswiped by this; totally gutpunched. "I didn't--I guess I hadn't realized. I'm sorry."
Fraser nodded and looked away, which was pretty much his way of accepting sympathy. "My relationship with Canada, Ray, bears more than a little resemblance to your current relationship with Stella. Which is to say--I want to go back, and they're not so keen to have me." His eyes drifted helplessly back to the picture behind Ray. "Unlike you, though, I've essentially stopped trying."
The Border Between Life and Death