Happy belated birthday,
hurry_sundown! You are always a delight, funny and bright and inhumanly patient and willing to lend a hand. Plus, hello, a talented writer! I'm so happy we get to share not one, but several fandoms, thus triplicating our mutual powers of squee. It was such a joyful surprise to find we had a shared Kowalski addiction, and it's been a hell of a ride since I started dipping my toe in the dS fandom last year. It wouldn't have been the same without you.
I'm a bit behind on fics, but this was written with much love for you. I hope you had a lovely birthday, and wish you a wonderful year to come. Hope you enjoy your (belated, woe) birthday fic!
When it Comes to This
Ray is not a proud man. He's done some dumb things in his time, he knows that. He's a pretty good cop, yeah, but away from the job, when it comes to stuff like people and romance and love, Ray is largely clueless. All he really knows is the dating habits of the Stella, and Stella went and changed the rulebook on him somewhere along the line, so all Ray's years of careful research and hard-earned expertise are now worth exactly squat. Less than squat. And when it comes to the rest of the world, the non-Stella part of the world? Squat minus eighty jillion.
So, you know, some people might consider that… Okay, not an excuse, but an explanation, maybe, for what happened on what Ray had foolishly imagined was pretty much just an ordinary Tuesday.
They'd been out following up on some leads for the Hamilton case, knocking on doors and interviewing people. They'd only gotten back from their adventure two weeks ago, but it looked like they'd fallen right back into the groove, the one-two punch of it. Ray let Fraser do most of the talking, because people always seemed to like Fraser best, and unless somebody needed kicking in the head Ray found it easier to sit back and let Fraser coax out the information.
Afterwards, Ray asked Fraser if he wanted to grab some dinner, like 97.88% of the times they were working together in the afternoons. Fraser looked at Ray like he'd just promised him season tickets to see the Leafs play when all he was really offering was a grilled cheese sandwich down at the diner. Maybe some soup, if they got a little crazy.
So they ate dinner, and the whole time Fraser kept sliding these little glances at Ray from under his lashes, smiling with a sweet little upturn of his lips when Ray passed him the salt or a napkin or asked the waitress for a refill on Fraser's glass of milk. And when Ray asked him to pick which kind of pie he'd like for dessert, Fraser absolutely beamed at him. Ray seriously thought Fraser was going to sprain a cheekbone, he grinned so hard when Ray offered to pay for the meal.
It was nice, but frankly, it was also kind of creeping Ray out.
He was just planning to drop Fraser at his new apartment so he could sleep off the drugs or whatever, but Fraser insisted Ray come in for a moment.
He sat Ray down in the tiny kitchen and brewed him some tea. It was a fancy kind, Ray could tell by the flowery smell of it. There was a little plate of butter cookies from a tin, like Ray was gentleman caller or something, and Fraser politely excused himself.
Ray blinked, scratched his head, and stared at his tea. Just when he thought he'd reached the bottom of the well of Canadianness, weird new things would happen. He picked up a cookie and turned it over curiously.
Dief wandered in, nails clicking on the linoleum, and gazed at Ray with soulful eyes until Ray handed it over. With a happy little rumble, Dief curled up at Ray's feet, chomping down the cookie in one bite. He worked the eyes again until Ray sighed and gave him another.
It was about fifteen minutes before Fraser came back. He'd taken off the Mountie getup and was standing there fresh-faced and scrubbed, his skin flushed and his hair wet from his hasty shower. Clad in jeans and a stiff new blue sweater, he stood hesitantly in the doorway, unselfconsciously gorgeous.
"Oh, hey," Ray said, "You changed. Did you want to go do something?"
"That's very thoughtful, Ray," Fraser said, even though it wasn't, particularly. "But I rather thought you might like to just stay here for a while. Perhaps have some more… tea?"
"Uh, okay." Ray waved at the chair across from him. "You wanna sit down?"
"Oh, yes, thank you!" Fraser was beaming again. He sat down across from Ray and poured himself a cup of the fancy tea. One delicate sip and he set the cup down, looking at Ray expectantly.
"So, uh, good work with Mrs. Renaldi today," Ray finally said, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. Somewhere down around his ankles, Dief whined piteously.
"I hardly think you're an authority on the matter," Fraser told Dief snippily. He looked back up at Ray, though his beam was slightly less shiny. "Thank you, Ray. I think she really wanted to help, she just needed some reassurance there would be no retribution."
"Yeah, I get that. Hamilton is a serious sleaze, wouldn't put it past him to have intimidated the whole neighborhood."
Fraser nodded. "Sometimes," he said carefully, turning the teacup over in his hands, "Our fears prevent us from speaking our minds."
Ray snorted. "Our fears, or the fears some goombah beat into us, yeah." Sometimes Fraser was too charitable.
"Yes," Fraser looked uncomfortable. "That's very true. Still. Sometimes, I think you'll find, those fears are nothing more than the product of our own insecurities."
"Sure, if the goombah beat enough insecurities into-"
"Ray!" Fraser snapped. "Can we leave the goombahs out of this conversation?"
"But Mrs. Renaldi-"
"This is not about Mrs. Renaldi, Ray." Fraser tugged at his collar, studied his tea for a moment, then looked back up at Ray, decisive. "This is about today."
Ray frowned. "Well, yeah. Today we interviewed Mrs. Renaldi."
Fraser sighed. "Yes, certainly. But I was thinking on a more, ah, personal level."
"Okaaaay." Ray put on his thinking cap. "I worked at the station, you worked at the Consulate. I grabbed something from the vending machine for lunch, you had that meeting with the German delegation. We met up to go do some interviews. We had dinner-"
"Yes," Fraser nodded encouragingly.
Ray had the feeling he was missing something fairly important. "Uh, yeah. So, we had dinner, and then we came here, and you made us some tea." Belatedly, he took a sip of the now-cold drink. "That's some real good tea, Fraser, thanks."
Dief whined again, and Fraser looked completely dejected.
"What, did I get something wrong? I mean, that's what we did today, right?" He had a sudden sinking feeling. "It's not your birthday, is it? Your birthday's not for another two months." Ray already had a sweet present all picked out, not that he was gonna tell Fraser that. "It's not my birthday, that was six months ago. Is it, uh, Canada Day?"
"It's just…" Fraser sighed. "It's nothing, Ray. More tea?"
"What? No! No, I do not want more tea, Fraser. I didn't want this tea in the first place. What I want is for you to tell me what the hell is going on. How am I screwing up here?"
"You're not screwing up, Ray. It's me. I just thought, perhaps, since all my research indicates… well, they say the third date is the, ah, decisive encounter. I suppose trying to generalize about these things is something of a fool's errand."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did you just say…" date?! "Uh, third?"
"Well, yes. Since we got back from our adventure. We went to the contemporary Native American art exhibit at the museum the weekend before last, and then out for Chinese. Last weekend we went to the Steve McQueen festival at the cinema, and for dessert afterwards. And today, well…"
"Grilled cheese and pie," Ray said faintly. "My treat."
"Yes," Fraser sounded relieved.
"So now you're gonna put out for me?"
"I'd say a two year partnership, an extended wilderness trek and a move back to your country would entail sufficient courtship, yes," Fraser said primly.
"Oh," Ray said. "Um, I should sit down."
"You are sitting down, Ray."
"Right. Right. Okay, so you… with… and now…"
Fraser just sat there, but something soft and hopeful in his eyes was fading.
"You know," Ray said, before he'd even realized he was talking. Hey, he was Mister Instinct, right? "People said me and Stella would never work out. We were from different worlds. But we did okay. I figure, we made it work for fifteen years, and that's not bad. That's more than a lot of people get." Ray was warming up to it as he talked. Sometimes you had to be right on top of something before you noticed it. "Now you and me, Frase, we're from more than different worlds. We are from different solar systems. Whole different galaxies, even. It takes astronomers and, and radio telescopes to get from me to you sometimes."
The teacup was turning round and round in Fraser's big, capable hands, and Fraser was studying it intently as he listened to Ray.
"But the moment I met you, I knew that we could make it work, that this could be the best thing that ever happened to me. And I was right, Fraser. I was right." Ray took a deep breath. "So third date's the charm, huh?"
"So I've been told, yes. But we needn't rush into anything."
Ray closed his eyes, pictured a vast field of white as far as the eye could see, and two people in it. He smiled. "What, are you kidding? I'd say a two year partnership, an extended wilderness trek and a move back to my country would, uh, entail sufficient courtship."
Fraser was beaming again, and beautiful, and fuck the galaxy divide and the astronomers and the radio telescope. Ray could read him perfectly.
The End.