[ Increasingly more uncomfortable is one thing. Weddings are a different matter entirely. At least at the functions that had been held at the Canadian Consulate he'd been considered little more than hired help by the guests, nevermind that universally he filled a much more important function. But if you stand outside helping people get into their cars and wishing them goodnight, then really, getting mistaken as a doorman isn't so big a surprise. It suits him just fine, dignitaries dance with dignitaries, Inspector Thatcher leaves him respectfully alone in her efforts to flirt her way up the social ladder and nobody's feelings are hurt.
In the Yukon, things had been inverse. Women didn't corner men on the dancefloor and make it so they couldn't refuse, because the ratio of men to women in the Territories was stilted five-to-one, and if you wanted to dance you had to be somewhat more proactive. The same had still been true of the Academy. In the eighties, when Fraser had studied there, men had vastly outnumbered women, and Fraser had essentially gotten off Scott free. That was, he'd been free to dance with whomsoever he wished.
But American women (and as it turned out the occasional Canadian fish out of water) were persistent, and exhausting. He tried - he really did try - not to let being flustered run him down, but Fraser was only human. He had limits just like everyone else, and this wedding was going to push him beyond them. Francesca, for example, would never let him slip by without insisting on a dance, and Fraser could already predict how that was going to turn out. The woman was like a hound on a scent, she never let up. She'd have bribed the band or something to play slow music, and she'd nag him to hold her closer and--oh dear.
He pinched his brow in consternation. ]
Cake is the least of my problems. [ Stated with the certainty and gravity of a man facing the hangman's noose. ] Perhaps I should... [ He shook his head abruptly. ] Nevermind.
[ There were going to be at least two dozen long lost Vecchios to contend with, judging by the glance he'd caught of Ray's guestlist. It would be a work of supererogation if he was still alive at the end of the night let alone upright. This was why he needed a date, or a chaperone. Perhaps if he inflected on the word 'partner' just right when introducing Ray... No solution was too outrageous.
And if all else failed he could always fake his death again. ]
no subject
In the Yukon, things had been inverse. Women didn't corner men on the dancefloor and make it so they couldn't refuse, because the ratio of men to women in the Territories was stilted five-to-one, and if you wanted to dance you had to be somewhat more proactive. The same had still been true of the Academy. In the eighties, when Fraser had studied there, men had vastly outnumbered women, and Fraser had essentially gotten off Scott free. That was, he'd been free to dance with whomsoever he wished.
But American women (and as it turned out the occasional Canadian fish out of water) were persistent, and exhausting. He tried - he really did try - not to let being flustered run him down, but Fraser was only human. He had limits just like everyone else, and this wedding was going to push him beyond them. Francesca, for example, would never let him slip by without insisting on a dance, and Fraser could already predict how that was going to turn out. The woman was like a hound on a scent, she never let up. She'd have bribed the band or something to play slow music, and she'd nag him to hold her closer and--oh dear.
He pinched his brow in consternation. ]
Cake is the least of my problems. [ Stated with the certainty and gravity of a man facing the hangman's noose. ] Perhaps I should... [ He shook his head abruptly. ] Nevermind.
[ There were going to be at least two dozen long lost Vecchios to contend with, judging by the glance he'd caught of Ray's guestlist. It would be a work of supererogation if he was still alive at the end of the night let alone upright. This was why he needed a date, or a chaperone. Perhaps if he inflected on the word 'partner' just right when introducing Ray... No solution was too outrageous.
And if all else failed he could always fake his death again. ]