ds snippet
21/9/05 14:09![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schmericaIt would be against Benton Fraser's nature to ever intentionally eavesdrop, of course, but the fact was that between his highly sensitive sense of hearing and the lack of volume control others might possess, the matter often seemed to be completely out of his hands.
In this case, for example, all three of the young women in question seemed to be under the impression that they were speaking at a quite discreet level. If they had realized that at the distance between their bench and where Fraser stood outside the shop door, he could hear every word perfectly -- well. Likely they would have been just as shocked and embarrassed as Fraser.
Fraser avoided looking in their direction. He found himself going automatically into sentry duty posture as he waited patiently. He was less successful than he would have liked at tuning out Bitsy Hollander's giggly tones.
"But his boyfriend's all, you know..." Bitsy was syaing. "I mean, he seems so tough and aggressive and everything. Plus he's an American!"
Fraser recognized the second of the voices as that of Juliet Sanders; her mother ran the small diner down the road, which featured excellent coffee and pie. "Yeah," Juliet said, "but the constable's RCMP. That evens it out from him being so nice and stuff. He can't be the wife."
"Yeah," the third voice, little Peggy Caudwell, piped up. "I mean, I'm pretty sure it's against the law to bugger a Mountie!"
It was at this point that Ray Kowalski finally -- finally! -- condescended to finish his purchases and join Fraser outisde the store, thus putting to an end both Fraser's mortification and his inner debate on whether he had a responsibility to speak to the girls and perhaps educate them on some of the myths on homosexual relationships they had obviously managed to absorb.
"Come on," Ray mumbled, jerking his head towards the car parked down the street. Fraser fell in step slightly behind Ray, and reached out to take one of the brown paper sacks from his arms.
"What's the matter with you?" Ray said, squinting at him. "Your face looks like a fire hydrant."
"Ah," said Fraser. He cleared his throat and rearranged the bag in his arms to a more comfortable position. "Well, it woudl appear that our relationship is ... a matter of some speculation among a few of the local high school girls."
"Speculation, huh?" They walked along silently for a full twenty seconds as Ray thought this over; his sudden loud burst of cackling almost made Fraser jump. "Girls," Ray said, shaking his head. "They're dirty, Fraser. Don't let anyone tell you different."
"I'll be sure to keep that advice in mind, Ray," Fraser said drily, and then they had reached the car.
In this case, for example, all three of the young women in question seemed to be under the impression that they were speaking at a quite discreet level. If they had realized that at the distance between their bench and where Fraser stood outside the shop door, he could hear every word perfectly -- well. Likely they would have been just as shocked and embarrassed as Fraser.
Fraser avoided looking in their direction. He found himself going automatically into sentry duty posture as he waited patiently. He was less successful than he would have liked at tuning out Bitsy Hollander's giggly tones.
"But his boyfriend's all, you know..." Bitsy was syaing. "I mean, he seems so tough and aggressive and everything. Plus he's an American!"
Fraser recognized the second of the voices as that of Juliet Sanders; her mother ran the small diner down the road, which featured excellent coffee and pie. "Yeah," Juliet said, "but the constable's RCMP. That evens it out from him being so nice and stuff. He can't be the wife."
"Yeah," the third voice, little Peggy Caudwell, piped up. "I mean, I'm pretty sure it's against the law to bugger a Mountie!"
It was at this point that Ray Kowalski finally -- finally! -- condescended to finish his purchases and join Fraser outisde the store, thus putting to an end both Fraser's mortification and his inner debate on whether he had a responsibility to speak to the girls and perhaps educate them on some of the myths on homosexual relationships they had obviously managed to absorb.
"Come on," Ray mumbled, jerking his head towards the car parked down the street. Fraser fell in step slightly behind Ray, and reached out to take one of the brown paper sacks from his arms.
"What's the matter with you?" Ray said, squinting at him. "Your face looks like a fire hydrant."
"Ah," said Fraser. He cleared his throat and rearranged the bag in his arms to a more comfortable position. "Well, it woudl appear that our relationship is ... a matter of some speculation among a few of the local high school girls."
"Speculation, huh?" They walked along silently for a full twenty seconds as Ray thought this over; his sudden loud burst of cackling almost made Fraser jump. "Girls," Ray said, shaking his head. "They're dirty, Fraser. Don't let anyone tell you different."
"I'll be sure to keep that advice in mind, Ray," Fraser said drily, and then they had reached the car.
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(no subject)
21/9/05 21:22 (UTC)(no subject)
21/9/05 21:22 (UTC)Ray and Fraser don't even want to know what I think about them, because I am way dirtier than the girls in this story.
Ray is a smart, smart man.
(no subject)
21/9/05 21:28 (UTC)(no subject)
21/9/05 21:30 (UTC)That may very possibly be the best line ever.
(no subject)
21/9/05 21:32 (UTC)"Girls," Ray said, shaking his head. "They're dirty, Fraser. Don't let anyone tell you different."
hee!
(no subject)
21/9/05 21:36 (UTC)Are we not all living proof? Hee.
(no subject)
21/9/05 21:38 (UTC)Yes, Fraser, yes we are.
(no subject)
21/9/05 21:40 (UTC)Ray is very smart, indeed! :)
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21/9/05 21:46 (UTC)(no subject)
21/9/05 21:49 (UTC)Man, what is it about people killing me with fic today? I need to go to work and I'm lying here all corpsified!
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21/9/05 21:50 (UTC)(no subject)
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21/9/05 22:54 (UTC)::giggle::
(no subject)
21/9/05 23:37 (UTC)(no subject)
21/9/05 23:43 (UTC)(no subject)
22/9/05 00:49 (UTC)(no subject)
22/9/05 00:53 (UTC)"Why yes! How could you tell?"
"You're wearing a uniform."
"Ah, of course. Are you in need of assistance?"
"Yeah. When you fuck that hot guy with the blonde hair, do you top, or does he? Or do you switch off? How do you decide who gets to be on top? And do you sometimes top from the bottom? Tell me all about it. In detail. If you'd like to demonstrate --"
heeeee.
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27/9/05 19:09 (UTC)