Author profile: slidellra
Author: slidellra or Sli on DreamWidth
Website/link to fic: Sli's Fic List
Fanlore page: tbc
First DS fic posted: 2006
Full disclosure: Sli and I are flisties. I think she's Awesome. (She may be aware of my existence. ;-)
Pairings: Fraser/Kowalski, Fraser/Vecchio, Kowalski/Vecchio
Style and strengths: White-hot PORN! OMG! Reading a number of Sli's stories in succession is liable to reduce you to a puddle. Apart from that, you get lovely characterisation, briliant humour, wonderful insights and all-round excellent story-telling. She also writes killer snippets.
Other DS/C6D activity: Sli has been a great asset to the DS and C6D fandom, modding ds_snippets with omphale and being a DS Match Team Captain. She also writes in a number of C6D fandoms, usually Callum-related.
Some favourites:
Echo, Fraser/Kowalski. Fraser gets hit over the head. Again.
"That's it," he said, forgetting again, so instead he said, "Cuckoo," and didn't spare the time to wonder what Ray had been saying after all, because he'd already reached out and deliberately wrapped a hand around Ray's biceps. Ray's jacket was worn, the leather soft and cold, and under the layers of clothing, Ray's arm was hard.
Ray's face was turned toward him. Fraser saw him swallow, hesitate, and then say, "At home."
Yes, Fraser thought with a fresh surge of adrenalin.
When he'd thought about ways and times he could again touch another person, could touch Ray, he'd thought about it rather hopefully as a joyous thing, touched with laughter and ease and ecstasy and therefore purely the stuff of fantasy. This right now was his hand, Ray's arm, Ray knowing exactly how to understand what he was saying, and no guarantees for either of them.
Cognitive Dissonance, Fraser/Kowalski. Fraser keeps feeling Ray up at inappropriate moments.
"You see," Fraser murmured into Ray's neck, ignoring the continuing clatter behind him, "I've given this a great deal of thought and I've realized that I'm extraordinarily attracted to you."
"Uh-huh?" Ray was having some trouble finding a good place to touch that wasn't all uniform.
"I was hoping you might be similarly attracted to me." Fraser's voice went all breathy as Ray shifted his legs apart and pulled Fraser's hips forward, grinding them together through their clothes.
"You could say that, Frase."
I can only. Fraser/Vecchio femslash, written for the first DS Match.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" Ray asks.
"No," Fraser replies, too quickly. "No, I was just woolgathering."
"They do a lot of that in Canada?"
Not in the Northwest Territories, no. Fraser could explain about the sheep industry in Canada, and then Ray would laugh and roll her eyes northward, but she doesn't.
She'd been watching Ray's face, the slight pinch between her eyes as she looked through the windshield at nothing in particular, and thinking about how she'd like to give Ray an orgasm. A gift.
She rubs her forehead, pushing the thoughts away. She hasn't had a great many close friends; sometimes she forgets the distinction between friendship and sexual attraction.
When she looks back at Ray, Ray is already watching her, face half in shadow, smiling that warm smile that isn't much more than deepening the dents at the corners of her mouth. Sexual attraction is dangerous and confusing, but friendship, this friendship, is clear and absolute. Fraser smiles back, bright and comfortable, and talks about sheep.
List: Ray is her friend.
Five ways Ray and Ray redefined romance, Kowalski/Vecchio. I really love this. Boys! SMOOSHCAKES!
The thing was, when Ray got back from finding the hand of Franklin (which was disgusting and shriveled and missing a couple of fingers), he was partnered with this guy Morricone, a lazy bastard who hummed all the time. In the bullpen and in the car and on stakeouts and during interrogations, until Ray slammed him up against the wall and said he'd hum better with no teeth and volunteered to help.
Then he didn't have a partner for a while, and he didn't have Fraser or Stella or Frannie or Huey or Dewey either, and the new guys at the 2-7 were all even-tempered pod aliens sent to infiltrate human society and report back what they learned, though nobody else believed him on that, and even Welsh had taken to smiling and clasping people supportively on the shoulder. Ray really hoped that meant he was lucky in love and not that he was a pod alien, too.
If Ray'd been feeling introspective he might have realized there was something missing from his life, something besides sex and a balanced diet and his best friend slash partner and his ex-wife slash best friend, but mainly he just felt bored, which amounted to the same thing.
But even without that nugget of self knowledge, when Vecchio landed back in Chicago and got hired back onto the force and assigned as Ray's partner, Ray was so happy to see him that he left off punishing the copy machine for its many crimes against humanity to give him a hug. "Style Pig!" he said, beaming and slapping Vecchio on the back hard enough to make him go oof. "Welcome back to the real world."
Vecchio shoved him away, looking down (and down and down) his nose and calling him 'Stanley,' and they were off, poking and digging and elbowing and crowding, and it was like getting into the ring with a contender after a string of lightweights.
Ray grinned and cracked his knuckles and got in Vecchio's face, and Vecchio planted his feet and narrowed his eyes and Ray would've bet five bucks was seriously considering head-butting him when Barry and Mancini (who weren't just pod aliens but were the exact same pod alien) broke it up.
While Ray was cooling off and doing a little victory dance in the john, Vecchio moved back into his old desk, piling Ray's stuff on the floor, so Ray got the new guys to tell Vecchio all about the power of positive thinking while he wandered off to tell the civilian aide the sad story of the mysterious infection Vecchio brought back from his hush-hush undercover job.
After work, they got in a fistfight, both trying to defend Stella's honor. It was the best day Ray'd had in months.
Website/link to fic: Sli's Fic List
Fanlore page: tbc
First DS fic posted: 2006
Full disclosure: Sli and I are flisties. I think she's Awesome. (She may be aware of my existence. ;-)
Pairings: Fraser/Kowalski, Fraser/Vecchio, Kowalski/Vecchio
Style and strengths: White-hot PORN! OMG! Reading a number of Sli's stories in succession is liable to reduce you to a puddle. Apart from that, you get lovely characterisation, briliant humour, wonderful insights and all-round excellent story-telling. She also writes killer snippets.
Other DS/C6D activity: Sli has been a great asset to the DS and C6D fandom, modding ds_snippets with omphale and being a DS Match Team Captain. She also writes in a number of C6D fandoms, usually Callum-related.
Some favourites:
Echo, Fraser/Kowalski. Fraser gets hit over the head. Again.
"That's it," he said, forgetting again, so instead he said, "Cuckoo," and didn't spare the time to wonder what Ray had been saying after all, because he'd already reached out and deliberately wrapped a hand around Ray's biceps. Ray's jacket was worn, the leather soft and cold, and under the layers of clothing, Ray's arm was hard.
Ray's face was turned toward him. Fraser saw him swallow, hesitate, and then say, "At home."
Yes, Fraser thought with a fresh surge of adrenalin.
When he'd thought about ways and times he could again touch another person, could touch Ray, he'd thought about it rather hopefully as a joyous thing, touched with laughter and ease and ecstasy and therefore purely the stuff of fantasy. This right now was his hand, Ray's arm, Ray knowing exactly how to understand what he was saying, and no guarantees for either of them.
Cognitive Dissonance, Fraser/Kowalski. Fraser keeps feeling Ray up at inappropriate moments.
"You see," Fraser murmured into Ray's neck, ignoring the continuing clatter behind him, "I've given this a great deal of thought and I've realized that I'm extraordinarily attracted to you."
"Uh-huh?" Ray was having some trouble finding a good place to touch that wasn't all uniform.
"I was hoping you might be similarly attracted to me." Fraser's voice went all breathy as Ray shifted his legs apart and pulled Fraser's hips forward, grinding them together through their clothes.
"You could say that, Frase."
I can only. Fraser/Vecchio femslash, written for the first DS Match.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" Ray asks.
"No," Fraser replies, too quickly. "No, I was just woolgathering."
"They do a lot of that in Canada?"
Not in the Northwest Territories, no. Fraser could explain about the sheep industry in Canada, and then Ray would laugh and roll her eyes northward, but she doesn't.
She'd been watching Ray's face, the slight pinch between her eyes as she looked through the windshield at nothing in particular, and thinking about how she'd like to give Ray an orgasm. A gift.
She rubs her forehead, pushing the thoughts away. She hasn't had a great many close friends; sometimes she forgets the distinction between friendship and sexual attraction.
When she looks back at Ray, Ray is already watching her, face half in shadow, smiling that warm smile that isn't much more than deepening the dents at the corners of her mouth. Sexual attraction is dangerous and confusing, but friendship, this friendship, is clear and absolute. Fraser smiles back, bright and comfortable, and talks about sheep.
List: Ray is her friend.
Five ways Ray and Ray redefined romance, Kowalski/Vecchio. I really love this. Boys! SMOOSHCAKES!
The thing was, when Ray got back from finding the hand of Franklin (which was disgusting and shriveled and missing a couple of fingers), he was partnered with this guy Morricone, a lazy bastard who hummed all the time. In the bullpen and in the car and on stakeouts and during interrogations, until Ray slammed him up against the wall and said he'd hum better with no teeth and volunteered to help.
Then he didn't have a partner for a while, and he didn't have Fraser or Stella or Frannie or Huey or Dewey either, and the new guys at the 2-7 were all even-tempered pod aliens sent to infiltrate human society and report back what they learned, though nobody else believed him on that, and even Welsh had taken to smiling and clasping people supportively on the shoulder. Ray really hoped that meant he was lucky in love and not that he was a pod alien, too.
If Ray'd been feeling introspective he might have realized there was something missing from his life, something besides sex and a balanced diet and his best friend slash partner and his ex-wife slash best friend, but mainly he just felt bored, which amounted to the same thing.
But even without that nugget of self knowledge, when Vecchio landed back in Chicago and got hired back onto the force and assigned as Ray's partner, Ray was so happy to see him that he left off punishing the copy machine for its many crimes against humanity to give him a hug. "Style Pig!" he said, beaming and slapping Vecchio on the back hard enough to make him go oof. "Welcome back to the real world."
Vecchio shoved him away, looking down (and down and down) his nose and calling him 'Stanley,' and they were off, poking and digging and elbowing and crowding, and it was like getting into the ring with a contender after a string of lightweights.
Ray grinned and cracked his knuckles and got in Vecchio's face, and Vecchio planted his feet and narrowed his eyes and Ray would've bet five bucks was seriously considering head-butting him when Barry and Mancini (who weren't just pod aliens but were the exact same pod alien) broke it up.
While Ray was cooling off and doing a little victory dance in the john, Vecchio moved back into his old desk, piling Ray's stuff on the floor, so Ray got the new guys to tell Vecchio all about the power of positive thinking while he wandered off to tell the civilian aide the sad story of the mysterious infection Vecchio brought back from his hush-hush undercover job.
After work, they got in a fistfight, both trying to defend Stella's honor. It was the best day Ray'd had in months.