(no subject)
Title: Ingenuity
Author: primroseburrows
Pairing/characters F/K, OFC
Rating: PG-13 for Fraserish double entendre
Length: 1292 words
Prompt: Inuvik School Works on Revamping Outdated Library
Disclaimers: Not mine, same as always.
[A/N: This is not the story I intended to write. This isn't even remotely LIKE the story I intended to write. It's all nos4a2no9's fault that it's different because she had to go and mention my Kidfic O' Doom. So this is really for Nos, because I really am glad I wrote it. Not sure if this'll be part of the final universe or go AU, but in either case, I'll shut up now and let y'all read.]
September 15, 2004
Inuvik, Northwest Territories
Canada
"Ray, what's 'Red China'?"
Ray looked up from his workbench, a.k.a. the latest battle scene in his ongoing war with Fraser's elderly pickup. This time it was the carburator.
"Hand me the sprocket wrench, will you, Gracie? It should be in the toolbox."
Ray watched Grace fish through the toolbox until she found what she was looking for and handed it over. Like his, Grace's hands were covered with grease, not that it seemed to bother her any. Ray had covered her hair with a blue bandana, because he knew from past experience that she definitely would complain if she had to have it de-greased later. Loudly. Fraser wouldn't be too happy about it, either.
"I'm sorry, Gracie, did you say 'Red China'?"
"Yeah."
"Where'd you hear about that, the History Channel?"
One of Grace and Fraser's favourite things to do to on rainy (or snowy) Saturday afternoons was to huddle on the couch and spend hours watching dry old documentaries on TV. Most of 'em seemed to involve old guys in suits, not that Ray hung around long enough to see what else they were about. Ray didn't get how a nine-year-old could sit still for something like that. 'Course, Grace liked helping Ray in the garage after supper, too, something Fraser was definitely not into (Fraser was obviously glad Grace was, though; he'd even bought her and Ray matching coveralls last Christmas--the kind with their names embroidered on the front pocket like those guys who work at gas stations).
"Uh-uh. It was a chapter in an encyclopedia at school. I didn't get to read about it 'cause free period was over an' they don't let us sign the encyclopedias out."
It took actual effort for Ray not to roll his eyes. What kid wants to spend free period in the library? He smiled and shook his head. A Fraser, that's who. Must be genetic or something.
"Well, lemme see, Red China. Back in the '60s there was this thing called the Cold War. Know anything about that?"
"Sorta. Russia and the States both had bombs that could blow up the world, right?"
"Something like that." Ray wasn't gonna mention that they kind of still did but didn't talk about it much anymore.
"Anyway, the Americans didn't like China, either, and neither did Canada and a bunch of other countries, on account of the fact that China was Communist like Russia." Ray looked across the bench at Grace, wondering if anything he was saying was getting through. Grace was nodding like it was, so Ray figured it was okay to keep going.
"Back then, see, Russia was part of this huge country called the Soviet Union, and they had a red flag and their army was called the Red Army, so anything Communist was called Red. So Red China means Communist China. But nobody's called it that since, I dunno, sometime in the '70s, even though China's still Communist. Sorta."
"Oh." Grace furrowed her brow while she turned the info over in her head, and Ray was floored for about the millionth time by how much Grace looked like her father. Fraser couldn't have denied her even if she hadn't been into spending recess in the library. Not that he'd ever want to, anyway. Fraser pretty much thought the sun rose and set around Grace. Which was okay because Ray kind of agreed with him.
"Must be a pretty old encyclopedia, then," said Grace, finally. "The chapter was called 'What's Next for Red China?'"
"Wow," said Ray. "That's pretty ancient. They teach you with that stuff?"
"Yeah. They tell us when stuff changes, though. And Ms. McGrath reads something from the Drum every morning." Grace absent-mindedly rubbed the bridge of her nose with the side of a finger, leaving a smudge of grease behind.
"Well, at least that's something."
"I guess so. Ray?"
"Yeah, Gracie?"
"Are we almost done? 'Cause Dad made ice cream today, an' he said we could have some before bed." Her expression was wide-eyed and earnest. "It's chocolate, Ray", she said in a whispery voice that sounded like she was revealing government secrets.
Make that a million and one times, thought Ray.
"Yeah, okay. I think we're done fighting with this thing for one night, anyway. But if your Dad asks why his truck's not fixed yet, I'm blaming you."
"Okay," said Grace, handing Ray the tub of hand cleaner. She didn't look worried.
Ray peeled off his coveralls and hung them on a hook. "Hey, Gracie, how come you didn't ask your Dad about the Red China stuff? He's the walking history book, not me."
Grace shrugged and shucked off her own coveralls. "Because he'd take an hour to answer me."
"Good point," said Ray, and together they trudged up the hill to the house.
**************************
Ray pushed himself back from the table by sheer force of will. His empty ice cream bowl still sat there like it was double-dog-daring him to load it up again. He'd already had one good-sized helping, and then another after Grace had gone to bed. If he had thirds he'd pay for it, but damn, Fraser made some kickass ice cream.
"Hey, Fraser, why would the school library still have encyclopedias from the '70s? And I mean not in storage, either. Gracie says the kids still use them."
"Well, I'd imagine it's a financial issue, Ray. The North hasn't always had a lot of success appropriating the necessary funds for its schools."
"Doesn't make sense. Seems to me those bigwigs in Ottawa could do something about it, y'know? I mean, in between ribbon-cutting ceremonies and yelling at each other."
Ray couldn't vote yet, but he sure could complain about how crappy they ran things in Ottawa. He was practically a Canadian already. And anyway, he'd gotten in a lot of practice by complaining about how crappy they ran things in Chicago.
"One would think so, yes."
"Kind of sucks, doesn't it?".
"Indeed." Fraser picked up Ray's bowl and brought it to the sink, and now it couldn't sit there and mock him anymore. Ha, thought Ray triumphantly.
"What about if we do something on our own?"
"Like what, Ray?"
"I dunno, take donations, get rid of the old stuff. Something. I mean, we don't want Gracie growing up wondering if mankind'll ever make it to the moon, right?"
Fraser gave him a look when he said that, the one that told him that maybe Grace wasn't operating alone in the sunrise-making department. "Ray, my friend, that's an excellent idea." He moved from the sink to stand beside Ray's chair. "Your ingenuity is but one of the many things I love about you."
Ray stood up and grabbed Fraser's arm, turning him so they faced each other. "Oh, yeah? So, tell me, Fraser. What else do you love about me?"
"Many things, Ray," said Fraser, deadpan. "Quite a few things, actually."
Ray took a couple of steps closer, and then he stopped because that was as far as he could go. "That so?"
"Definitely 'so', Ray," Fraser answered. Still deadpan, but lower in volume and a little shaky.
"Hmm. Well, then, I got another excellent idea. Maybe we could, you know. Go down the list. In the bedroom, say." Slowly, deliberately, Ray unbuttoned the top two buttons of Fraser's shirt.
"Um," said Fraser. "I would very much like to go down. The, ah. List, that is. With you. In there."
"Well, good. That's good, then. See how great minds think alike, Fraser?"
"I can certainly see how you--" Fraser started, but he didn't get to finish because right about then Ray ran out of patience and decided that Fraser had better things he could be doing with his mouth at this juncture. Like letting Ray kiss him, long and slow and loaded with promises.
Fraser tasted like ice cream. Take that, Bowl of Mockery.
Tomorrow Ray would call Ms. McGrath and talk to her about the library thing. Right now he was way too busy with other ideas.
Author: primroseburrows
Pairing/characters F/K, OFC
Rating: PG-13 for Fraserish double entendre
Length: 1292 words
Prompt: Inuvik School Works on Revamping Outdated Library
Disclaimers: Not mine, same as always.
[A/N: This is not the story I intended to write. This isn't even remotely LIKE the story I intended to write. It's all nos4a2no9's fault that it's different because she had to go and mention my Kidfic O' Doom. So this is really for Nos, because I really am glad I wrote it. Not sure if this'll be part of the final universe or go AU, but in either case, I'll shut up now and let y'all read.]
September 15, 2004
Inuvik, Northwest Territories
Canada
"Ray, what's 'Red China'?"
Ray looked up from his workbench, a.k.a. the latest battle scene in his ongoing war with Fraser's elderly pickup. This time it was the carburator.
"Hand me the sprocket wrench, will you, Gracie? It should be in the toolbox."
Ray watched Grace fish through the toolbox until she found what she was looking for and handed it over. Like his, Grace's hands were covered with grease, not that it seemed to bother her any. Ray had covered her hair with a blue bandana, because he knew from past experience that she definitely would complain if she had to have it de-greased later. Loudly. Fraser wouldn't be too happy about it, either.
"I'm sorry, Gracie, did you say 'Red China'?"
"Yeah."
"Where'd you hear about that, the History Channel?"
One of Grace and Fraser's favourite things to do to on rainy (or snowy) Saturday afternoons was to huddle on the couch and spend hours watching dry old documentaries on TV. Most of 'em seemed to involve old guys in suits, not that Ray hung around long enough to see what else they were about. Ray didn't get how a nine-year-old could sit still for something like that. 'Course, Grace liked helping Ray in the garage after supper, too, something Fraser was definitely not into (Fraser was obviously glad Grace was, though; he'd even bought her and Ray matching coveralls last Christmas--the kind with their names embroidered on the front pocket like those guys who work at gas stations).
"Uh-uh. It was a chapter in an encyclopedia at school. I didn't get to read about it 'cause free period was over an' they don't let us sign the encyclopedias out."
It took actual effort for Ray not to roll his eyes. What kid wants to spend free period in the library? He smiled and shook his head. A Fraser, that's who. Must be genetic or something.
"Well, lemme see, Red China. Back in the '60s there was this thing called the Cold War. Know anything about that?"
"Sorta. Russia and the States both had bombs that could blow up the world, right?"
"Something like that." Ray wasn't gonna mention that they kind of still did but didn't talk about it much anymore.
"Anyway, the Americans didn't like China, either, and neither did Canada and a bunch of other countries, on account of the fact that China was Communist like Russia." Ray looked across the bench at Grace, wondering if anything he was saying was getting through. Grace was nodding like it was, so Ray figured it was okay to keep going.
"Back then, see, Russia was part of this huge country called the Soviet Union, and they had a red flag and their army was called the Red Army, so anything Communist was called Red. So Red China means Communist China. But nobody's called it that since, I dunno, sometime in the '70s, even though China's still Communist. Sorta."
"Oh." Grace furrowed her brow while she turned the info over in her head, and Ray was floored for about the millionth time by how much Grace looked like her father. Fraser couldn't have denied her even if she hadn't been into spending recess in the library. Not that he'd ever want to, anyway. Fraser pretty much thought the sun rose and set around Grace. Which was okay because Ray kind of agreed with him.
"Must be a pretty old encyclopedia, then," said Grace, finally. "The chapter was called 'What's Next for Red China?'"
"Wow," said Ray. "That's pretty ancient. They teach you with that stuff?"
"Yeah. They tell us when stuff changes, though. And Ms. McGrath reads something from the Drum every morning." Grace absent-mindedly rubbed the bridge of her nose with the side of a finger, leaving a smudge of grease behind.
"Well, at least that's something."
"I guess so. Ray?"
"Yeah, Gracie?"
"Are we almost done? 'Cause Dad made ice cream today, an' he said we could have some before bed." Her expression was wide-eyed and earnest. "It's chocolate, Ray", she said in a whispery voice that sounded like she was revealing government secrets.
Make that a million and one times, thought Ray.
"Yeah, okay. I think we're done fighting with this thing for one night, anyway. But if your Dad asks why his truck's not fixed yet, I'm blaming you."
"Okay," said Grace, handing Ray the tub of hand cleaner. She didn't look worried.
Ray peeled off his coveralls and hung them on a hook. "Hey, Gracie, how come you didn't ask your Dad about the Red China stuff? He's the walking history book, not me."
Grace shrugged and shucked off her own coveralls. "Because he'd take an hour to answer me."
"Good point," said Ray, and together they trudged up the hill to the house.
**************************
Ray pushed himself back from the table by sheer force of will. His empty ice cream bowl still sat there like it was double-dog-daring him to load it up again. He'd already had one good-sized helping, and then another after Grace had gone to bed. If he had thirds he'd pay for it, but damn, Fraser made some kickass ice cream.
"Hey, Fraser, why would the school library still have encyclopedias from the '70s? And I mean not in storage, either. Gracie says the kids still use them."
"Well, I'd imagine it's a financial issue, Ray. The North hasn't always had a lot of success appropriating the necessary funds for its schools."
"Doesn't make sense. Seems to me those bigwigs in Ottawa could do something about it, y'know? I mean, in between ribbon-cutting ceremonies and yelling at each other."
Ray couldn't vote yet, but he sure could complain about how crappy they ran things in Ottawa. He was practically a Canadian already. And anyway, he'd gotten in a lot of practice by complaining about how crappy they ran things in Chicago.
"One would think so, yes."
"Kind of sucks, doesn't it?".
"Indeed." Fraser picked up Ray's bowl and brought it to the sink, and now it couldn't sit there and mock him anymore. Ha, thought Ray triumphantly.
"What about if we do something on our own?"
"Like what, Ray?"
"I dunno, take donations, get rid of the old stuff. Something. I mean, we don't want Gracie growing up wondering if mankind'll ever make it to the moon, right?"
Fraser gave him a look when he said that, the one that told him that maybe Grace wasn't operating alone in the sunrise-making department. "Ray, my friend, that's an excellent idea." He moved from the sink to stand beside Ray's chair. "Your ingenuity is but one of the many things I love about you."
Ray stood up and grabbed Fraser's arm, turning him so they faced each other. "Oh, yeah? So, tell me, Fraser. What else do you love about me?"
"Many things, Ray," said Fraser, deadpan. "Quite a few things, actually."
Ray took a couple of steps closer, and then he stopped because that was as far as he could go. "That so?"
"Definitely 'so', Ray," Fraser answered. Still deadpan, but lower in volume and a little shaky.
"Hmm. Well, then, I got another excellent idea. Maybe we could, you know. Go down the list. In the bedroom, say." Slowly, deliberately, Ray unbuttoned the top two buttons of Fraser's shirt.
"Um," said Fraser. "I would very much like to go down. The, ah. List, that is. With you. In there."
"Well, good. That's good, then. See how great minds think alike, Fraser?"
"I can certainly see how you--" Fraser started, but he didn't get to finish because right about then Ray ran out of patience and decided that Fraser had better things he could be doing with his mouth at this juncture. Like letting Ray kiss him, long and slow and loaded with promises.
Fraser tasted like ice cream. Take that, Bowl of Mockery.
Tomorrow Ray would call Ms. McGrath and talk to her about the library thing. Right now he was way too busy with other ideas.