Benton Fraser (
dogsled) wrote in
thelockbox2014-07-06 10:57 pm
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Benton Fraser | Due South
![]() BENTON FRASER。 | |
"You know, Fraser, when they offered me this assignment, they made it sound kind of normal. They say, 'Hey, Ray, here's a chance to start over, ditch the past.' 'What's the catch?' I say. 'Oh, your partner's Canadian.' Canadian? I got nothing against Canadians, except for the time when they won the World Series, which I'm willing to overlook. But at no time did they say, 'you'll be working with a Mountie who's got a wolf that's a florist'" |
NEW READ JOURNAL CREDIT |
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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. ]
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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.
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[ 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. ]
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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.]
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[ 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. ]
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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.]
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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. ]
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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.]
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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... ]
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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.]
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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. ]
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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.]
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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. ]
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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'?
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[ 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? ]
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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?
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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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It's like the Mountie can't make up his mind.
No matter. Ray's using his stubborn indifference to push through it. He's not going to admit he's in the wrong here, thank you very much, he's just doing what he's told.]
Sure. Whatever.
[Just gonna keep squirming out of his jeans.]
Jeez, Fraser. It is not that warm in here.
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Ah... Well actually, Ray...
[ No, he's not going to get away with backing out this time. And he's staring because there is nothing attractive about Ray trapped halfway out of his pants. It doesn't get more awkward than that. ]
When I suggested taking off your clothes, this isn't precisely what I had in mind.
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At least he's sort of stopped for now.]
Fraser! You say take off my clothes and I take off my clothes. You say it's gonna get all hot and steamy, y'know, and I dunno what I'm meant to think. Now I'm gettin' cold and you're saying don't take off my clothes, but I already got my clothes off and... and...
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What you were meant to think? I'm not certain I could have been any clearer with my intentions, Ray.
If I may--
[ Because obviously as bad as he's already made it he can always make it worse. He slid away from his perch on the back of a cooking pot to approach Ray, gingerly kneeling near his feet in order to get a firm grip of his jeans. They're halfway off anyway, and in his current predicament Ray is going to knock the tent over getting upright. He's just one of those people who grew up and never got used to having longer limbs--it can't be helped. But the last thing they need is Ray accidentally burning the tent to the ground; he'd never live that one down. ]
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