Polar Bear Rug by Aingeal
Title: Polar Bear Rug
Author: Aingeal
Prompt: 39. Polar bear numbers rising, Inuit elders tell wildlife board
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1011
Summary: This wasn't the Canadian vacation Ray had dreamed about.
Thanks: Thanks to leda_speaks for a quick, thorough, friendly beta.
Polar Bear Rug
“Why are we tracking a polar bear, Fraser?” Ray asked, as they trudged through ever deeper snow.
“I told the village elders I’d help,” Fraser replied, bending down to look at a snow covered log before changing direction.
“And what are we going to do when we find this bear?”
“We alert the local hunters.”
“Who are going to shoot it,” Ray pointed out. “You’re looking for a polar bear that’s going to end up as dinner.”
“Ray, the population has been increasing at an unexpected rate…”
“I thought global warming meant their numbers were decreasing,” Ray said, patting off the snow stuck to his coat.
“In some areas, yes, but in others the bear numbers have increased due to new animals moving in. They represent a danger to humans and the Native peoples of Canada are allowed to hunt small numbers for food and clothing.”
“What? Eskimos really like those polar bear fur coats, huh?”
“Their skins also make good blankets.”
“Let me guess, as a child you didn’t have a teddy bear you had a whole polar bear blanket?”
Fraser nodded. “Yes, Ray. It was presented to my grandmother by a village elder.”
“So, this is why you don’t care if the bear we’re looking ends up as a rug?” Ray asked, feeling sorry for the doomed bear.
“I care, Ray, I just don’t anthropomorphise animals the same way you do.”
“You talk to Dief,” Ray pointed out.
Dief whined in agreement.
“That’s different. Diefenbaker is not posing a threat to the local human population.”
“Just the local doughnut population.”
“There aren’t any doughnuts here, Ray.”
Dief barked. He seemed to be missing some of the conveniences of city life.
“Well, maybe if there were you wouldn’t be killing bears.”
“I’m not going to kill the bear, Ray.
“Like there’s a difference.”
“There is. ” Fraser paused. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about animals.”
“Yeah, well. I don’t even know why I care about a polar bear, they’re nothing but bad luck anyway.”
“In what sense?” Fraser asked, literally stopping in his tracks.
“Benny, you remember the last time you saw polar bears? In the zoo?”
“Ah, you’re using them as a metaphor for what went wrong with Victoria.”
“No, I’m saying they’re a bad luck charm.”
“But you still have reservations about tracking a polar bear?”
“Yeah. I mean, when you said we could come north on vacation I didn’t know we’d be spending it out here in the snow tracking a polar bear who the local village want to eat.”
“I wasn’t very clear was I, Ray?”
“You weren’t. There’s nothing romantic about tracking a doomed polar bear,” Ray said, setting off again; he was cold standing still.
“My father once took my mother out bear tracking.”
“So that’s where you get it from.”
“Get what from?”
“Never mind.”
“Never mind what?”
“That your idea of a good date comes from your father.”
“Ah. I see what you mean, Ray.”
“Good.”
There were a few moments of silence as they trekked through yet more snow. It was Fraser who broke the silence.
“Perhaps we can ask the Inuit elders if we can have the skin.”
“You want the skin? Ewwww, Fraser. “
“Well, the hide. I can make it into a blanket or a rug.”
“I am not rolling around on a dead polar bear with you.”
“How do you know we’d roll around on it?”
“Benny, sooner or later you’ll get me naked on it.”
Fraser looked at Ray. “You would look…appealing on a polar bear skin rug.”
“Ewwww, Benny!”
“You don’t think so?”
“No. Not lying back next to the head of a polar bear.” Ray shuddered at the thought.
“We could remove the head.”
“Oh great, a decapitated bear.
“Well, he wouldn’t be decapitated as such, that would suggest violence.”
“How easy is it to remove a head anyway?” Ray asked.
“Once the neck is broken it’s a relatively simple operation. It can be easily accomplished with a saw.”
Ray sighed. “So, what am I going to tell people we did on vacation? I shot a polar bear and decapitated it. Then my lover wrestled me on the rug he made out of it.”
“You don’t have a permit for firearms in Canada, Ray.”
Ray threw up his arms. “I was making it up!”
“I think I see its tracks, Ray.”
Fraser bent down to get a closer look and Ray joined him.
“Erm, Fraser.”
“Yes?”
“Those aren’t polar bear tracks.”
“They look like polar bear tracks, Ray.”
“How many polar bears wear shoes?”
“We’re tracking the hunters,” Fraser said.
“They’ve probably already found and shot the bear by now.”
"We haven't heard a shot, Ray."
Just a Fraser spoke there was the sound of a shotgun going off, followed by the roar of a bear and then a few more shots before everything went quiet.
Ray smiled. “Now we have.”
It was some hours later when they made it back to the village to congratulate the triumphant hunters. Fraser had a quiet word with one of them out of Ray’s earshot. This did not reassure Ray.
He was right to be wary as the next day in their rented cabin there was a polar bear skin rug laid on the floor in front of the fire.
“I can’t believe you did this,” Ray said, staring at it.
“It was a gift, Ray.”
“Which you asked for,” Ray pointed out.
“Yes, but it was still given freely.”
“So, what do you want me to do with it? “
Fraser blushed. “Well, erm, Ray you could…”
Ray sighed and began to get undressed. “I don’t believe it. We’re about to have sex on a polar bear.”
“It’s not an actual polar bear, Ray, just its skin.”
“Never mind,” Ray replied and kissed Fraser. “One more thing,” he said, as Fraser lowered them to the rug. “Next vacation there are no dead animals involved.”
“All right,” Fraser agreed.
Perhaps now wasn’t the best time to tell Ray about the ritual involving seal grease.
Author: Aingeal
Prompt: 39. Polar bear numbers rising, Inuit elders tell wildlife board
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1011
Summary: This wasn't the Canadian vacation Ray had dreamed about.
Thanks: Thanks to leda_speaks for a quick, thorough, friendly beta.
Polar Bear Rug
“Why are we tracking a polar bear, Fraser?” Ray asked, as they trudged through ever deeper snow.
“I told the village elders I’d help,” Fraser replied, bending down to look at a snow covered log before changing direction.
“And what are we going to do when we find this bear?”
“We alert the local hunters.”
“Who are going to shoot it,” Ray pointed out. “You’re looking for a polar bear that’s going to end up as dinner.”
“Ray, the population has been increasing at an unexpected rate…”
“I thought global warming meant their numbers were decreasing,” Ray said, patting off the snow stuck to his coat.
“In some areas, yes, but in others the bear numbers have increased due to new animals moving in. They represent a danger to humans and the Native peoples of Canada are allowed to hunt small numbers for food and clothing.”
“What? Eskimos really like those polar bear fur coats, huh?”
“Their skins also make good blankets.”
“Let me guess, as a child you didn’t have a teddy bear you had a whole polar bear blanket?”
Fraser nodded. “Yes, Ray. It was presented to my grandmother by a village elder.”
“So, this is why you don’t care if the bear we’re looking ends up as a rug?” Ray asked, feeling sorry for the doomed bear.
“I care, Ray, I just don’t anthropomorphise animals the same way you do.”
“You talk to Dief,” Ray pointed out.
Dief whined in agreement.
“That’s different. Diefenbaker is not posing a threat to the local human population.”
“Just the local doughnut population.”
“There aren’t any doughnuts here, Ray.”
Dief barked. He seemed to be missing some of the conveniences of city life.
“Well, maybe if there were you wouldn’t be killing bears.”
“I’m not going to kill the bear, Ray.
“Like there’s a difference.”
“There is. ” Fraser paused. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about animals.”
“Yeah, well. I don’t even know why I care about a polar bear, they’re nothing but bad luck anyway.”
“In what sense?” Fraser asked, literally stopping in his tracks.
“Benny, you remember the last time you saw polar bears? In the zoo?”
“Ah, you’re using them as a metaphor for what went wrong with Victoria.”
“No, I’m saying they’re a bad luck charm.”
“But you still have reservations about tracking a polar bear?”
“Yeah. I mean, when you said we could come north on vacation I didn’t know we’d be spending it out here in the snow tracking a polar bear who the local village want to eat.”
“I wasn’t very clear was I, Ray?”
“You weren’t. There’s nothing romantic about tracking a doomed polar bear,” Ray said, setting off again; he was cold standing still.
“My father once took my mother out bear tracking.”
“So that’s where you get it from.”
“Get what from?”
“Never mind.”
“Never mind what?”
“That your idea of a good date comes from your father.”
“Ah. I see what you mean, Ray.”
“Good.”
There were a few moments of silence as they trekked through yet more snow. It was Fraser who broke the silence.
“Perhaps we can ask the Inuit elders if we can have the skin.”
“You want the skin? Ewwww, Fraser. “
“Well, the hide. I can make it into a blanket or a rug.”
“I am not rolling around on a dead polar bear with you.”
“How do you know we’d roll around on it?”
“Benny, sooner or later you’ll get me naked on it.”
Fraser looked at Ray. “You would look…appealing on a polar bear skin rug.”
“Ewwww, Benny!”
“You don’t think so?”
“No. Not lying back next to the head of a polar bear.” Ray shuddered at the thought.
“We could remove the head.”
“Oh great, a decapitated bear.
“Well, he wouldn’t be decapitated as such, that would suggest violence.”
“How easy is it to remove a head anyway?” Ray asked.
“Once the neck is broken it’s a relatively simple operation. It can be easily accomplished with a saw.”
Ray sighed. “So, what am I going to tell people we did on vacation? I shot a polar bear and decapitated it. Then my lover wrestled me on the rug he made out of it.”
“You don’t have a permit for firearms in Canada, Ray.”
Ray threw up his arms. “I was making it up!”
“I think I see its tracks, Ray.”
Fraser bent down to get a closer look and Ray joined him.
“Erm, Fraser.”
“Yes?”
“Those aren’t polar bear tracks.”
“They look like polar bear tracks, Ray.”
“How many polar bears wear shoes?”
“We’re tracking the hunters,” Fraser said.
“They’ve probably already found and shot the bear by now.”
"We haven't heard a shot, Ray."
Just a Fraser spoke there was the sound of a shotgun going off, followed by the roar of a bear and then a few more shots before everything went quiet.
Ray smiled. “Now we have.”
It was some hours later when they made it back to the village to congratulate the triumphant hunters. Fraser had a quiet word with one of them out of Ray’s earshot. This did not reassure Ray.
He was right to be wary as the next day in their rented cabin there was a polar bear skin rug laid on the floor in front of the fire.
“I can’t believe you did this,” Ray said, staring at it.
“It was a gift, Ray.”
“Which you asked for,” Ray pointed out.
“Yes, but it was still given freely.”
“So, what do you want me to do with it? “
Fraser blushed. “Well, erm, Ray you could…”
Ray sighed and began to get undressed. “I don’t believe it. We’re about to have sex on a polar bear.”
“It’s not an actual polar bear, Ray, just its skin.”
“Never mind,” Ray replied and kissed Fraser. “One more thing,” he said, as Fraser lowered them to the rug. “Next vacation there are no dead animals involved.”
“All right,” Fraser agreed.
Perhaps now wasn’t the best time to tell Ray about the ritual involving seal grease.