thelockbox | Benton Fraser

[ The wilds could change at any moment, and all those changes brought perils of their own. Too much sunlight would melt the ice under the sled, creating slippery ravines that dropped away to certain death below. Too much snow would make it impossible to see further than the end of their noses, cover pitfalls, and the dogs would take them clean off the edge of a cliff in new territory without knowing it was there. Too much wind would do the same, only the cold would whip fiercely at their faces, biting through exposed flesh, blackening extremities with frostbite.

And even if the weather didn't kill them, the wild animals were similarly capable.

It was the wind that had brought them to a stop this time. They'd found a hollow in which to pitch their canvas tent, lit the stove fire and fed the dogs, and then he set off to fetch firewood--they wouldn't get through the night without it. It didn't keep him from almost getting lost on the way back; in fact if not for the sound of the dogs, he'd have walked right past the tent without finding it again.

And as he pulled open the canvas door, the wind roared in behind him, snatching away some of the warmth that had already built up. He dumped his sack of timber on the floor, turning to strap up the canvas again behind him. ]

We were making good time.

[The wilds and Ray never did quite get on. He was a city boy unused to the changing expanse of something as vast as the Canadian wilderness. His knowledge lay more in the suburbs; of back streets and gangs, of laws and society. Out here there was no law beyond that of nature, and while Fraser was doing a fine job of teaching, Ray still felt he had far too much to learn.

He was out of his depth. Constantly cold, tired, clueless and hungry. And yet somehow... somehow he couldn't help that small sense of achievement that slowly blossomed deep in his chest. The knowledge that together they were setting out to do something, that there was a purpose to all of this beyond just survival. It was different from anything he'd experienced before.

While Fraser was out, Ray made sure the camp was set for the night and kept the warmth going. He'd at least got the hang of the camping thing enough to keep himself occupied, but by the time Fraser returns, he's sat in the tent huddled and waiting.]

Canada is against us, Fraser. [Possibly sulking. Probably. Nothing new there.]

[ Possibly probably definitely. The wilderness was beautiful, but it could be depressing and lonely, an empty place, and it wass so far from the luxuries of home that of course Ray was finding it difficult. Emotionally as well as physically.

It'd different for Fraser. He'd gone to Chicago on the trail of his father's killer, left the wilderness, and found that his survival skills suited the city almost as well. Except that cars were harder to dodge and gunfire was easier. And apartments were no place for a sweat lodge.

But this had to be taught. It had to be learned. Ray was on the steepest crash course there could ever be.

Fraser stocked the fire while he appraised his friend's melancholy.

Maybe if he sang? But not now. ]

Canada is, Ray? Oh--because of the storm?

[ Not the whiteouts, and the sled getting stuck and the polar bear... ]

[Ray can almost manage without the luxuries of the modern world. Almost. Although what he does miss is the food. Not that he doesn't appreciate meat over an open fire and ration packs, but he craves a cheeseburger and fries or Chinese or... or... God, he misses city food.]

Yes, Fraser, because of the storm. And everythin' else. I just want one night, one night without the wind or the, the the uh, snow. Why couldn't we have chosen the Bahamas, y'know?

[The huddling remains, hunched forward, his neck tucked into his shoulders in the hope for some sort of additional warmth and arms folded tight.]

[ It's a bad thing to dwell, Benton would tell him. Ration packs and snow rehydrated soup can be delicious if you're not dreaming of T-bone steak.

In his usual habit of always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time: ]

I suggest you take it up with our quarry.

[ One night without the snow or the wind, one night not huddled up close to the fire trying to pretend he was warm. He catches on, albeit slowly, and closes the firedoor, locking it. The wood hisses, still damp, spitting out pine sap and melted snow. It'd take a while to dry out enough to burn properly.

Meanwhile Ray is tucked up inside every scrap of blanket and spare clothing they have, and he still looks cold. ]

Here.

[ It's not as though he needs his coat - the one with the fur ruff - it's already a few degrees warmer inside, and there's no biting wind to cut into him. He doesn't wait for Ray to take the coat, but sets it across his shoulders, using the excuse of being close to lay the back of his fingers against Kowalski's forehead to check for fever. ]

[Ray would argue that Fraser's really not helping with his comment. That he should just shut up and let Ray complain without countering everything he has to say. But it's cold and there really isn't much use in arguing, nor does he have the energy for it right now. Well, not the energy to argue about that anyway, but he'll probably manage other subjects soon enough.

When Fraser approaches with his coat Ray doesn't even oppose it, accepting the additional layer with a soft grunt of thanks but almost instantly recoiling at the careful touch. It's not that he doesn't appreciate the concern, he just wants some semblance of dignity to remain. Not that he ever had much dignity to start with.]

I'm cold, not dyin'. C'mon.

[His eyes fix towards the fire, chin jerking in it's direction.] I'll warm up, no big deal.

You're cold, not dying.

[ He'll concede that much. Even despite the huge difference in temperature, their body temperature is still self regulating as usual. Cold noses and dry lips aside, Ray would be fine, especially as the tent started to warm up. One of these days they'd come across a cabin instead; the kind of place Ray might refuse to leave until the snow melted.

Some time next year. ]

Yes, but now you'll warm up faster.

[ He patted his friend's shoulder, then shuffled around him to unpack the kettle and the dried caribou strips that he'd bartered for yesterday. ] Hungry? [ All a part of his master plan, obviously: the one where if Ray was thinking about how terrible the food was he might start to forget the cold. ]

[If they ever find a cabin, especially one with some form of bathroom, Ray will want to stay there for as long as they can. While their adventure is still at the height of his thoughts, he can't help but crave some form of basic amenities, even if just for a few nights.

Despite himself the shoulder pat causes the slightest of smiles to creep it's way across Ray's lips, one that doesn't even vanish at the thought of what food selections they have.]

Is it gonna be edible? [No answer Fraser can give will have Ray believing it.]

[ It really depends on which meaning of the word edible Ray is going for. So he'll say: ] Highly so.

[ At least it wasn't moss and lichen. The caribou had been dried and smoked like beef jerky. It was brittle and just a little tough, but the protein would keep them going.

At least it would if he could get Ray to eat it. He dropped the brown paper bag in his lap, then set to work filling the kettle with ice, preoccupying himself deliberately so that Kowalski could poke at 'dinner' undisturbed, in the small hope that he could convince Ray that he wasn't judging every wary nibble and pained expression with a critical eye. ]

[Whatever version of edible Ray was going for, this bag of dried meat is definitely not included in it.

When the paper bag gets dropped into his lap, he's opening it up like something may jump back out of it, peering in carefully only after he's certain he's safe from any initial attack.

A strip of dried meat is withdrawn, lifted and observed, eyes narrowing in suspicion.]

This isn't like uh, dog thigh or uh, the uh, blubber off a seals ass or anything, right? [At least Ray's identified it as meat. Go him.]

[ The kettle gets clipped on top of the fire, and then it's a simple case of waiting for the water to boil. Meanwhile Benton has the decency to look apologetic, but since it's mixed with the tiniest hint of ever-ready knowingness, it comes off as arch nevertheless. ]

I realize it isn't takeout, Ray, however given the circumstances I'm not certain the Paper Dragon would deliver.

[ He sits opposite him. To be fair there isn't anywhere else to sit, everywhere in the tent would be opposite.

There's no getting around it, but he hopes if he holds his breath long enough Ray will nibble it. Maybe then he'll tell him what it is. ]

[The food has done the job of distracting Ray from complaining about the cold, but only because he's more intent on complaining about the food.]

Heh. Deliver. Y'think there's any that deliver this far North? Like a uh, supply drop or somethin'?

[God, he'd love if there were.

Although he appears aware of the ridiculousness of the idea, enough so that he's eyeing up the meat again. It gets a few sniffs, a quick lick (obviously been around Fraser too long), and then the most hesitant and smallest of bites.]

[ He's been round Ray a long time too. He's learned to pick up on sarcasm, those moments when Ray doesn't really mean it - although to be fair he still hasn't nailed it down where other people are concerned; just his partner - and for once he doesn't respond with an honest answer, biting back on the 'No' to instead watch Ray taste testing.

~~Secretly amused by the lick.~~

But he's nibbled it, which means that Fraser can now afford to tell him exactly what it is. ]

It's caribou. Cedar smoked.

[ He'd even licked it to make sure it wasn't dogmeat, because he's just that good a friend. Maybe not the bit Ray was presently nibbling, although... ]

[There nothing quite like living in the wilderness and sharing a tent to really test a friendship, but thankfully the two of them have had plenty of time to sort things out long before their trip to Canada. Which Ray is more than thankful for, seeing as a fallout in the wild could be unbearable.]

Better than Frannies cookin', amiright?

[And yes, that does mean caribou is suitable enough that Ray decides to take a proper bite out of it. He'll blame it on the fact that the cold has made him starving. While he's chewing on his strip he tosses the paper bag to Fraser because sharing is caring.]

[ It helps that it's a lot warmer now than it was when Benton let the north in. He catches the brown paper bag, and carefully opens it out on the snow between them, taking out his own piece of caribou jerky. ]

If you say so, Ray.

[ To be fair Francine's cookies would probably taste better after three weeks in the arctic circle. Instead of dwelling on it he chows down on his protein dinner, musing distantly over the fact that the dogs are eating a similar meal out in the snow.

And speaking of fur coats. ]

If I may be so bold, Ray, it may be time to remove your clothes.

[Virtually anything would taste better after three weeks in the Arctic circle, such as dried meat which Ray is somehow willingly eating right now. Give some of that to him back at Chicago and he'd have been sneering his nose at the very sight of it.

He finishes off the strip he's got quickly, choking on the last mouthful all thanks to Fraser and his odd requests.

Where does he even come up with these things?]

I'm not removin' my clothes, Fraser.

Y'can have yer coat back.

[ He is eating very patiently and nicely and not choking on it at all by the time Ray manages to breathe enough to respond. He looks unflustered, as though he didn't just ask something completely unreasonable.

Even if, as usual, it's just his terrible choice in words.

...The problem is it's a premise to even worse words. ]

That would be inadvisable, Ray. [ Holding the stick of jerky in his mouth for a moment, Fraser brings his hands up to loosen the top buttons of his jacket, giving himself a little space. ] You see, it's about to get very hot in here, and besides the obvious risk of dehydration, it would be unfortunate if you were to soil your clothing.

Dried sweat can be quite uncomfortable, Ray. I'd hate for you to have to suffer unnecessarily.

[Much worse. To the extent Ray isn't even sure what's happening any more. No change there though.

Is "it's about to get very hot in here" some sort of foreshadowing? What's Ray even meant to take from this advice?

In contradiction to the request and some confusion, Ray tugs the blankets around him just a little tighter.]

Look, Fraser, we're buddies, yeah? I can deal with sharin' sleepin' bags and food and and and the uh, even the occasional 'body warmth' thingamajig, but y'gotta warn me about stuff like this. It's survival, I get it. But turnin' up the heat? Hot and steamy. That's uh, that's... I gotta think, y'know?

[ The rest of the polished, pristine buttons of his jacket are undone. Then Fraser takes the jerky out of his mouth, holding it in the thumbs and forefingers of both hands as he appraises his friend. Ray snuggling deeper into the blankets wasn't exactly the plan.

Ray obviously gets it. It's going to get hot. He doesn't understand what the problem is, here. ]

I'm not sure what there is to think about, Ray. This is no time to be apprehensive.

[ Might as well go get the spade, they're going to keep digging for a while. ]

[There's just staring from Ray. Lots of staring with his jaw slack and mouth slightly open. That vacant look he gets when he's trying to process something just slightly beyond his reasoning.

This must be a Canadian thing. Surely it's a Canadian thing.

But Fraser's stripping off and he's trying to get Ray stripping off and... and...]

Alright.

[Finally he concedes with a shrug, shrugging off Fraser's coat and mass of blankets with some reluctance while he moves to undo his leather jacket and zipped hoody beneath.]

[ Well that was easy. He refrains from saying as much out loud, but it's a close thing, and in the meantime Fraser snaps his piece of jerky in half and sets about chewing at it. He watches Ray free himself from the blankets without saying a word himself, or otherwise getting back into the way of continuing to undress.

Meanwhile the wet wood in the fire has reached the point where it's begun to actually combust, and the heat being produced has brought the temperature up by several degrees already.

Just a misunderstanding. But it might look like he's staring, since...well, since there's nowhere else to look. ]

[If there's one thing that Ray's learnt while he's been out in the middle of no where with Fraser, it's that the Mountie usually knows what he's talking about in these situations. Ray's stubbornness and general argumentative approach to things had left him in some uncomfortable situations lately and he sure doesn't like the sound of uncomfortable clothing. Especially not when he has to keep living in them.

And at the rate Ray's going, he's apparently going to take the stripping very literally down to the last garment. Well, the t-shirts coming off anyway, all wiry, pale limbs and that Spark Plug tattoo.]

Yer not gonna make me roll in the snow or anythin', right? I saw that on some show once and it did not look any fun. I mean that is a sure fire way to turn your dick into a shrinky dink, y'know what I'm sayin'?

Actually Ray, rolling in the snow would be an excellent way of lifting the perspiration from your skin.

[ Rolling in the snow naked could save Ray's life. But it's maybe less necessary right now, which is why it's puzzling Fraser that ray is down to shirtless already. He pauses in his chewing, lowers his hand slightly, swallows maybe a little too hard. ]

Ah... Ah, Ray?

[ What does he even say to that? ]

[Just eye rolling at the explanation. He'd really rather not try out that way of washing right now, which would be why he's choosing to ignore Fraser as he tosses his t-shirt aside.

And then he's working at his jeans, popping open the button and working with the zipper, leaning back in an attempt to squirm out of them. He does, however, stop halfway to snap out an exasperated:]

What?

[ Three straight blinks. Another swallow, and this is the moment. This is really the moment where Fraser should step in and correct the misunderstanding. But...

But he still doesn't realize it's his fault. In fact he's suddenly convinced that Ray is stripping all the way intentionally, and perhaps he knows what he's doing. Because he knows that tone. That tone is you'd better have a damn good reason for interrupting me right now, and most of the time it's usually just better to back off.

Sometimes even if there is a good reason. ]

Perhaps you'd feel more comfortable, Ray, if I were to avert my gaze?

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