My Journal

Grunhilda - Post 36hr

2007-09-11T17:32:03Z

Grunhilda's actions directly after the events of the 36 hour.

Grunhilda returns home exhausted and sore. She quickly removes her armour and cleans her weapons, propping them in their rightful places. She wants to rest, but has one more task to complete.

First she collects her thickest winter gloves from the bottom of her clothing pile, then she finds two long nails left over from the repairs that Chan and her brother had started to help her make, right before Chan's disappearance.

She goes to her bedroom, the most secure room in the house, and pushes the nails into the wall at eye level, about a foot apart. Then, wearing the gloves, she goes to her bag, opens it and gingerly lifts out the contents. With surprising care she carries the items over to the wall and gently hangs one on each nail, adjusting them until they are level.

This done she steps back and gazes in satisfaction at her handiwork.

Two masks gaze back.

Grunhilda

2007-06-22T20:52:04Z

Well, as promised, here is LARP character fiction. This is a little look, not so much inside Grunhilda’s head, but at her life and circumstances in general. Enjoy.

She sits on the mattress, listening to the wind howling through the holes in the roof. The damage to the room where she sleeps and where her most precious things are stored has been crudely but thoroughly repaired. However the majority of the roof and some of the walls still need a great deal of work.

The mattress is bare, save for a single ragged blanket and a dirty, grey lump that proves, on closer inspection, to be a stuffed facsimile of a lamb. There is a bookcase by the wall next to the mattress and the books are spread out on the floor around it, drying, their pages crinkled and still slightly damp from their exposure to the elements.

Grunhilda stares at the books for a moment before reaching for the nearest one. She flicks through it carefully, searching, until she finds a particular picture. She scans the words on the opposing page, running her eyes over the jagged, incomprehensible shapes. Then she closes her eyes and recalls her mother’s voice, reading this book aloud to her.

She opens her eyes again and gazes unseeing at the text as tears slide down her face and drip onto the pages. Her mouth shapes the familiar words,

"'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble and the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogroves,
And the mome raths outgrabe..."

***

So what do you think? And pleases poke at my spelling/grammar, if you think it’s not right.

Genre Redux Challenge

2007-06-12T23:52:03Z

Written a while ago for ds_flashfiction's Genre Redux challenge. If you don't know anything about Due South, this is probably it in a nutshell.

Title: The Mountie And His Rays. (A Folk Song)
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Rating: G
Genre/Style: Folk Song
Word Count: 426
Notes: ultra_chrome was instrumental in giving me confidence to post this. I didn’t have a tune in mind, so pick your favorite and go with it. I apologize in advance for the length.
Disclaimer: Sadly no.
Summary: Once there was a Mountie
And Fraser was his name-oh.

Once there was a Mountie
And Fraser was his name-oh.
Name-oh, name-oh,
Fraser was his name-oh.

He was owned by a deaf-half-wolf
And he dressed all in red-oh.
Red-oh, red-oh,
Dressed all in red-oh.

He tracked his father’s killer to Chicago
And there met a man named Ray-oh.
Ray-oh, Ray-oh,
There met a man named Ray-oh.

And that killer they did chase
In Ray’s car of bright green-oh.
Green-oh, green-oh,
Ray’s car of bright green-oh.

But that killer was killed
By the master planner-oh.
Planner-oh, planner-oh,
By the master planner-oh.

So Fraser chased the planner
Right back to Canada-oh.
Canada-oh, Canada-oh,
Back to Canada-oh.

And the Mountie got his man
And it was his father’s friend-oh.
Friend-oh, friend-oh,
His father’s friend-oh.

As that man was a Mountie too
Fraser was sent back to Chicago-oh.
Chicago-oh, Chicago-oh,
Sent back to Chicago-oh.

There Fraser and Ray had some adventures
And they captured many villains-oh.
Villains-oh, villains-oh,
They captured many villains-oh.

But then that Ray had to leave,
He had a duty to his country-oh.
Country-oh, country-oh,
Had a duty to his country-oh.

And so Fraser met a new Ray
With hair that was very spiky-oh.
Spiky-oh, spiky-oh,
Hair that was very spiky-oh.

And this Ray had a car that was black
And he seemed to be quite gay-oh.
Gay-oh, gay-oh,
Seemed to be quite gay-oh.

And Fraser and this shiny new Ray,
Who shall henceforth be called RayK-oh.
RayK-oh, RayK-oh
Henceforth be called RayK-oh.

They captured many villains too,
While encountering rubber-ducks-oh.
Rubber-ducks-oh, rubber-ducks-oh,
Encountering rubber-ducks-oh.

And the danger they shared,
It drew them ever closer-oh.
Closer-oh, closer-oh,
Drew them ever closer-oh.

But then the first Ray did return
On the trail of some nerve-gas-oh.
Nerve-gas-oh, nerve-gas-oh
The trail of some nerve-gas-oh.

And the three of them did meet
And there was a lot of confusion-oh.
Confusion-oh, confusion-oh,
There was a lot of confusion-oh.

And the bad guy Muldoon got away,
He flew home to Canada-oh.
Canada-oh, Canada-oh,
He flew home to Canada-oh.

Fraser and RayK gave chase,
Hanging on the wing of a plane-oh.
Plane-oh, plane-oh,
Hanging on the wing of a plane-oh.

And Muldoon was captured
At the bottom of a mine-shaft-oh.
Mine-shaft-oh, mine-shaft-oh,
Bottom of a mine-shaft-oh.

But this made Fraser and RayK sad
Because they did not wish to part-oh.
Part-oh, part-oh,
Did not wish to part-oh.

So they confessed their love for one another
And dog-sledded into the sunset-oh.
Sunset-oh, sunset-oh,
Dog-sledded into the sunset-oh.

And everyone else had a happy ending too,
Except for the bad-guys-oh.
Bad-guys-oh, bad-guys-oh,
Except for the bad-guys-oh.

***

So what do you think?

I swore I'd never do this...

2007-05-31T11:24:15Z

But this whole thing has really got to me.

Deliberately not LJ cut, I want to get it out of my system.

LJ has apologised and said they will reinstate most of the journals deleted. This is a start.

The implication that all fanfiction writers who touch on the subject of child molestation, whether it is for the purposes of titillation or plot, are encouraging paedophilia is not particularly appreciated.

The entire situation was completely mismanaged and LJ has not addressed all of the issues surrounding this - Others who have reported disturbing journals have been told that "Nothing can be done," unless "there is actual evidence of illegal activity" and LJ's complete about face on the matter is rather shocking. Plus the re-definition of interests to, "Things I actively encourage people to participate in."

LJ's actions over the past few days have seriously disturbed me, but they appear to have at least realised that they have made a mistake (Even if they are being rather condescending over it) and hopefully things will improve.

What still galls me is the attitude and behaviour of the group calling themselves Warriors for Innocence (I have deliberately not linked to their site, as some people have reported major spyware infestations after visiting. If your firewall is good, google them).

As someone who has spent a great deal of time working with children that could be considered especially vulnerable to these sort of attacks, the idea of harming a child in that way sickens me and I would do anything in my power to make sure that no child suffers in that manner.

And WfI's stance on the subject is frankly disturbing. They offer no apology to the people they have hurt in this matter - be they from fandom, RPGers, discussion groups for the book Lolita or support groups of survivors of they very thing they are trying to prevent.

In the case of fandom they instead say that anyone who complains about having their hard work deleted is obviously "too close to their subject matter." Never mind that lots of the stuff deleted did not contain any references to paedophila or child molestation at all.

They have also been accused by many people more expert in the subject than I, of going about hunting down internet paedophiles in exactly the wrong way - posting on their blog about what they were trying to do weeks before it happend so that any aware paedophiles could spend time hiding and making sure they wouldn't be caught, not working with any law enforcement agency so that even if some child molesters have lost their journals, they have not lost their liberty.

But WfI insist that they can do no wrong, that they have caused only acceptable levels of harm, that they should not be judged - Because they are hunting paedophiles!

They imply that every journal that was deleted was in some way guilty - indirectly accusing many surviors of child abuse of being abusers themselves and no doubt causing a great deal of distress. I did point this out to them, although I doubt they will pay much attention, because...

Anyone who comments at their journal (Where outside comments can be edited or deleted without warning by the WfI people - and a post I commented on (Although I don't think my comment got past moderation, they don't like intelligent dissenters and I used a rather clever metaphor that must have had them a bit stumped.) now has comments disabled.) and disagrees with their methods or complains that innocent people have been hurt along with the (Very few - I can't imagine most genuine paedophiles are stupid enough to have child molestation in their interests list.) guilty are accused of being paedophile themselves, or supporting paedophiles.

They received one comment (which now appears to have been deleted) from a survior of child abuse, who said that they thought WfI were behaving badly and were not helping their own cause. WfI's response? This person was obviously unable to be objective, due to their experiences.

When others have pointed out that most cases of actual child molestation are committed by close family members/friends of the child and maybe WfI should focus more on stopping these actual cases of abuse the commenters were told they were "Naive," and "If you google you find thousands of child porn sites," obviously making this kind of activity more dangerous and harmful to children than actual attacks.

I can find nowhere that indicates WfI actually care about children who have suffered abuse - Instead they seem to want recognition as being a force for all that is good and pure. Presumably if you've been abused you no longer fit into that category.

WfI also show an astonishing lack of sense when it comes to information distribution. They encourage internet users to pose as children in order to trap and 'scare' paedophiles. (Of course meaning these paedophiles will be even more wary in future and police sting efforts to trap and actually arrest them will be that much less successful.) To help visitors to their site, they even have a handy page on how to convince other users you are a child. Which no paedophiles will run across and find useful, obviously.

I have other objections to WfI - Including their comments on consent. They say "A child is not capable of consent," but define a child as anyone under the age of consent, even though many 'children' regularly and frequently have completely consensual, non-coerced or forced sex. (Often with others of the same age, although I don't know how WfI copes with that. They seem to be the sort of right wingers who think that sex is for married people, in the missionary position, for the purpose of giving birth only.) And that's not even taking into account the issue of England's age of consent being 2 years less than America's. Presumably 17 year olds suffer some form of mental retardation when they cross the Atlantic. And on your 18th birthday you get hit by a strike of lightning and suddenly understand what consent is and become completely ready to have sex, regardless of outside factors.

This whole affair has left a bitter taste in my mouth. (And was rather distracting on the day of an exam - I think I did as well as I could though, so that's alright.) LJ's mishandling, providing they make appropriate steps to rectify it, will eventually be forgiven - although not forgotten, they don't seem to have learned anything from the 'Nipplegate' thing last year.

But WfI's journal continues to make me sick. And there is nothing I can do about their website or their opinions (Because they are entitled to have them, however much I think them to be incredibly stupid) but the fact that they are allowed to continue with their potentially damaging actions galls me. I will accept that there is nothing I can do about it and I will continue to challenge their behaviour and attitudes if they spill over into my life. And however much it angers me, I will allow them their freedom of belief and freedom of expression. But I don't have to like it.

And I managed all of that without using the word cunts. Brilliant.

OC Challenge

2007-05-20T20:16:03Z

Title: The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Rating: PG
Word Count: 432
Pairing: Eloise/Davie
Notes: ultra_chrome gave this a prod with her beta-stick. The title is from the Bible, Job i. 21.This fic is set just after Say Amen. That episode left a load of questions unanswered. Oh, and I’m an atheist, so apologies if I’ve got any quotations wrong.
Disclaimer: Yeah right.
Summary: They were just worried that she’d get hurt; they were trying to keep her safe. They were trying to protect her.

She’s so confused. She should stay with Davie, he’s still hurt, even if he is out of danger. But her parents are in jail. She doesn’t understand why. That nice Constable Fraser says they aren’t really her parents, that they killed her real parents, but that can’t be right, can it?

Because she loves them. And they love her, she knows they do. That’s why she had Addie as a bodyguard. That’s why they didn’t like Davie. They were just worried that she’d get hurt; they were trying to keep her safe. They were trying to protect her.

Detective Vecchio said her parents were only interested in the money she could make for them. But she’s helped people, healed them. Even if she didn’t do it every service, even if it was only one in ten, one in twenty, she’s still cured people. And she gave hope to thousands of others. Everyone who came to the service, all those who listened to the radio show.

So even if her parents did... Even if they really... She wouldn’t have been able to help all those people without them. So maybe... maybe they just wanted to share her gift with the world. Maybe her real parents were bad people, who were hurting her, trying to stop her using her gift.

Only her parents never said anything about it. And they killed Addie. And they tried to get Davie into trouble. She doesn’t know what happened to her ‘real’ parents. Constable Fraser could be wrong. And she’s never trusted Addie. He was always looking at her and she never liked the look on his face. It was... hungry. But she’s so angry about what they did to Davie. They got him hurt. They nearly had him sent to prison.

But she’s supposed to forgive them. For everything. Honour thy father and thy mother. But if they aren’t her father and mother does she still have to honour them? They did everything parents should, they raised her right. And she doesn’t have any brothers or sisters. If they couldn’t have children themselves... Judge not lest ye be judged. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.

Her name isn’t really Eloise Barrow, it’s Marcy Davenport. She thinks she prefers Eloise.

But she needs someone to talk to. Someone who won’t ask questions, someone who won’t judge her or her parents. Someone she trusts, someone who’s always been there, who knows her, who loves her. Someone who understands...

So she does the only thing she can think of. She gets on her knees and prays.

***

So what do you think?

Dating Challenge

2007-05-19T19:02:23Z

Here's another old one from ds_flashfiction.

Title: Courting
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Rating: PG
Word Count: 400
Pairing: Fraser/Kowlaski
Notes: ultra_chrome is my most fantastic and beloved beta.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. Dammit.
Summary: I am not naturally given to being courted.

I am not naturally given to being courted.

Besides the obvious expectation of being the court-er as opposed to the court-ee that is imposed upon me by my sex, I am, it is probably fair to say, somewhat awkward socially. I have no idea how to respond to the various women who throw themselves at me on a daily basis.

I know that my views could be considered old fashioned, that many modern women prefer to ‘make the first move’, as it were. And this is perfectly acceptable. Love is rare and precious thing and I admire anyone who has the courage to seek it out. But the fact remains that I have no idea of how to respond to such overtures. I find the aggressive style adopted by these women, coupled with the emphasis they place on my appearance as opposed to my character, very off-putting.

This is why I was so surprised that my recent encounters with one Stanley Raymond Kowalski have been so straightforward. Ray is, after all, not someone who can be described as shy. At first I found his boldness both alluring and unnerving. However, recently, I have found myself increasingly comfortable in his company.

I suppose this is, in part, because of his honest nature; I could never imagine Ray deceiving me as to his intentions. He, as the idiom goes, wears his heart on his sleeve. And on his face. The look in his eyes when he…

But I digress.

Courting, by its very nature, implies an expectation of commitment, of romance, of… love. And I have been unlucky in love before. Although unlucky is probably an understatement. "Really fucking hopeless," is, I believe, the phrase that Ray employed. Although I would never encourage the use of such profanities.

The… dates are what I presume I should call them, that Ray has escorted me on have been enlightening. I have never before known such joy to result from such a rudimentary set of actions.

Holding hands in the back of a darkened movie-theatre, a chaste kiss stolen between the periods of a hockey game, a brisk walk in a snowy park; simple activities all. And yet when shared with Ray they take on a deeper significance.

As I said, I am not naturally given to being courted. But learning how one goes about this endeavour is continuing to be a most enjoyable experience.

***

So what do you think?

Queer Challenge

2007-05-19T11:51:27Z

I wrote this ages ago for ds_flashfiction's 'Queer' challenge and I realised I'd never posted it here.

There are going to be a couple more updates over the next few days as I post the other fics I've written but forgotten to add to my general index.

Title: On Being Queer
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Rating: PG
Word Count: 562
Notes: No beta as I only just got this done in time. Therefore be as critical as you like and please point out any spelling mistakes, typos etc.
Disclaimer: If you believe that, I’ve got a bridge for sale.
Summary: But if I had to pick a label, the label to describe me, I’d pick queer.

I don’t like labels. Labels box you in, lock you up and then throw away the key. Once you’ve got a label you’re not allowed to be anything else. But if I had to pick a label, the label to describe me, I’d pick queer.

See, queer’s got a couple of different meanings. There’s queer-odd and queer-different and queer-...queer. You know what I mean.

And I ain’t got no problems being described as odd or different. Being known as an odd-ball or a kook, it keeps the people around you on their toes, makes life more interesting.

But I’m also the other kind of queer. The kind that gets a guy whispered about in locker rooms and beaten up in alleyways. So I’m not what you’d call open about being that sort of queer. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not uncomfortable about it either, I’m totally cool with that side of my sexuality. I’m fully in touch with myself and all that other psychological bullshit. I’ve even had some fun times. I just don’t broadcast it.

The Mountie – he’s another queer one. Queer-odd for sure, who the hell licks electrical sockets? And acting like he understands what the wolf is saying, that can’t be normal even by Canadian standards. I’ve never met a guy more different either. It’s like he goes out of his way to prove what a freak he is. And I mean that in the nicest possible way.

I’m kinda hoping he’s the other kind of queer too. There are signs, like the way he ignores all those women who throw themselves at him and the way he looks at guys sometimes, especially when he thinks I’m not watching.

I’ve got some rather particular hopes at this moment in time because he’s coming over tonight for beer and pizza and hockey. Or so he thinks anyway. Me, personally, I’m going to tell him how much I value him as a friend. And as more than a friend. And then I am going to ask his permission to court him. He’ll appreciate the courting. Fraser’s not the sort of person who jumps right into sex, I don’t think, and nor am I. You’ve got to get to know the person better. Movies, restaurants, holding-hands, kissing on the couch, that’s half the fun.

I don’t think this will wreck our friendship (And Fraser is, without a doubt, the best friend I have ever had.) because Benton Fraser is not homophobic. He might get all weird on me though; avoid me like he does Frannie. But I’ve gotta try, I care about him too much not to. And if Fraser is amenable to being courted, I think it’ll be for keeps. That’s what I want (Hey, if you’re going to aim high you may as well aim for the very top.) and I don’t think he’s the kind of guy who’d settle for anything less. Mr Commitment, that’s him.

He’ll be here in five minutes. I’m shaking, sweating, jittering on the spot. I want to put some music on, dance my nerves away, but I’m worried I’ll miss his knock. Instead I pace, running through what could happen, what I want to happen, in my head. See, even after everything that happened with Stella, I can’t help hoping, can’t help thinking everything will turn out for the best.

I’m queer like that.

***

So what do you think?

A 3rd DS Fanfic For GetFraserLaid

2006-09-21T20:40:09Z

Title: The Inner Workings Of A Certain Mountie
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,625
Pairing: Fraser/Ms. Fraser (Yes, you read that right.)
Notes: ultra_chrome betaed this for me. She did a wonderful job. Written for getfraserlaid for prompt 128. Fraser/Ms. Fraser - "Regardless of whether this is a dream, a hallucination or reality, I think it's quite clear that I do, in fact, have a rather significant hole in my bag of marbles." Thank you kindly mistressace for letting me take over your claim on this prompt.
Disclaimer: For Christmas I want a Mountie of my very own.
Summary: "Regardless of whether this is a dream, a hallucination or reality, I think it's quite clear that I do, in fact, have a rather significant hole in my bag of marbles."

As Fraser awakened he gradually became aware that there was a figure sitting on his bed. When his eyes had adjusted to the light he examined the shadowy form and was startled to realise that the strange figure was himself.

Or… almost himself. In fact it would be fairer to say that the entity sitting beside him was the spitting image of him as he had appeared when working undercover as a teacher at the St Fortuna school.

That is to say, he was apparently looking at a female impersonation of himself, life-size and apparently completely solid. Which was of course impossible. She…he…it…himself moved so that they were standing level with his head.

The figure smiled down at him. “You’re awake.” A hand was extended and gently stroked Fraser’s sleep mussed hair away from his face.

“Who…how…that is to say… I’m not sure how to put this, or even if there is anyone to put it to but …” Fraser gave up and trailed off into silence.

“An unfinished sentence is a sign of a disorganised mind.” The words were accompanied by an amused smile.

“Dad!” Fraser jerked back appalled.

The figure… creature… being… laughed delightedly. “Oh goodness gracious me no.”

The voice was right as well, Fraser mused. Or at least the voice sounded like he imagined the voice Ms Fraser had used sounded to others.

“No Ben, I’m not your father. Nor am I, as you are currently supposing, some other kind of spirit.” Again the being gave an indulgent smile.

“You can read my thoughts?” Fraser was startled by the idea. He’d always considered his private thoughts exactly that, private.

“No, I know what you’re thinking because I’m a part of you, Ben. If you want it in simplistic terms, I’m a physical manifestation of your subconscious.”

Fraser stared up disbelievingly. “That’s quite patently ridiculous. It disobeys all of the laws of logic and common sense, not to mention being scientifically impossible.”

Obviously this was not a spirit but a flesh and blood human trying to unbalance or unnerve him. His mind raced furiously as he attempted to determine who amongst his current associates would have both the motive and the wherewithal to carry out such an audacious fraud.

The individual again seemed to read his mind. “Do you really believe another person could resemble you so closely? Surely my explanation is a more reasonable one? Due to the pain you have suffered you have repressed your quite natural desires. This has led to frustration, which you have also suppressed. Now a lack of sleep and an overload of self-denial have lead to your subconscious becoming manifest in an attempt to ease some of the pressure on your rather overworked psyche.”

Fraser found himself, unwillingly, taking the being’s words seriously. He endeavoured to rationalise the experience. “I’m tired. You can’t really be my subconscious, can you?”

“I’m afraid I am. If it makes you feel any better you can pretend that this is a dream.” The creature did not seem at all perturbed by this notion, as if it did not care what explanation Fraser used to justify its existence as long as it was justified.

"Regardless of whether this is a dream, a hallucination or reality, I think it's quite clear that I do, in fact, have a rather significant hole in my bag of marbles." Fraser felt rather defeated. He didn’t like the thought of his oddness being so inherently profound.

The being cupped Fraser’s cheek gently. “I know that too. It’s part of being you, the part that makes you so different to everybody else. It’s not your fault, it may even be genetic. Just look at Uncle Tiberius.”

“You’ve spoken to him too?” At this point Fraser would not have been surprised by anything this entity claimed.

“No,” was the very patient response. “I’m a part of you; I can’t communicate with anyone else. Normally I’m unable to directly contact you.”

Fraser shook his head, trying to make sense of what he was perceiving. “I don’t believe any of this. It is absolutely impossible for you to be what you are claiming to be. You can’t be real.”

The figure tutted as if disappointed. “Reality is subjective. You know that. One woman’s loving husband may be another woman’s brutal killer.”

“That I will give you but…” Fraser tried to marshal another argument, find something, anything that would make this thing leave so he could return to sleep.

The creature sighed resignedly. “It’s pointless arguing with me. I’m you. You’ll always lose.”

“But, in that case, I’ll always win as well.” Fraser felt oddly pleased with himself for drawing this conclusion. He then realised that his tiredness must be clouding his judgement, he was arguing with an imaginary being.

The entity ignored both Fraser’s spoken and silent responses. “Haven’t you realised that your psyche must be in a bad state for your subconscious to feel the need to visit you?”

Fraser felt rather insulted. “What do you want?” he asked, realising that this… delusion would not end until the scenario had played itself out fully. He just didn’t know how this bizarre vision would end.

“You need to relax. You don’t allow yourself any,” the figure paused and winked at Fraser, “release.”

The blatant double-entendre caused Fraser to blush. The grin on the creature’s face left him in no doubt as to the meaning behind its words and Fraser was aroused despite himself. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment and he fervently hoped that the being couldn’t really see exactly what he was thinking. Adding to his discomfort was a nagging sense of ridiculousness for being embarrassed, as this Was Not Real. He wished he could just return to sleep and forget this whole complicated and convoluted conversation.

“I’ve got just the thing to make you sleep, Ben.” The figure grinned lasciviously and ran its hand down Fraser’s body slowly, causing goosebumps to spring up wherever its fingers touched. Fraser’s long johns were opened and the hand fondled him expertly, stroking and squeezing gently until he became fully erect. This did not take long as the creature somehow knew precisely how to touch him in order to produce the most intense sensations.

Fraser was too astonished to move away. After a few seconds he managed to pull himself together enough to gasp, “what…? why…?”

The hand moving on Fraser’s penis pulled back his foreskin and ran its fingers around the head, effectively disrupting his train of thought. “I told you,” the being observed matter-of-factly, “you need to relax.” Its dispassionate manner was in direct contrast with the erotic nature of the act it was performing. Fraser gave up on receiving a comprehensible explanation for what was occurring and resolved to let the creature continue with its… activities.

Abruptly the creature straddled Fraser. He couldn’t see what it was doing because of the long skirt but he felt a hand grasping him and guiding him inside a hot, wet tunnel. A tunnel much too smooth and slick to be anything other than a vagina.

“No underwear?” was the choked comment that issued from Fraser’s throat. He immediately felt silly. There were so many other, more relevant, questions to be asked, starting with the obvious fact that his subconscious appeared to be female.

Nevertheless, for once, the creature answered the spoken question rather than the one which had been left unsaid. “Easier access. I knew this was how our meeting was going to end. What else is a subconscious good for?”

She began to move up and down on him, groaning softly, her tight vagina clenching around him exquisitely. Fraser reached for her, his mind forming some dim idea of reciprocating, making her feel the same bliss as he was. But she pushed his hands away and grunted out, “No need. Uh…I feel what you feel, get my pleasure from…ah…pleasing you.” Fraser dropped his arms back onto the bed, clenching the sheets with his clammy hands.

“Oh oh oh!” Fraser thrust upwards as much as the weight on top of him would allow. The slippery heat surrounding his penis was utterly delightful. He was sweating and the sensations he was experiencing were unimaginably pleasurable. His eyes rolled back in his head as he achieved orgasm.

The… female climbed off Fraser and he slumped bonelessly back onto the bed, exhausted. He was aware that the… session he had just participated in had ended rather quickly, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He let his eyes fall shut

Then a tongue began to lick him clean. Fraser wrenched his eyes open again and looked down and moaned as he saw a lipsticked mouth, curved in a wide grin, hovering over his groin while manicured nails re-buttoned his long johns.

The woman slid up his body and lay next to him, wrapping her arms around him. Her head rested on his shoulder.

Fraser struggled to find the right words to express his gratitude towards her. “It was nice.”

“As I just felt exactly what you felt, and I know exactly what you like, I can assure you that what you just experienced was considerably better than nice,” she replied tartly.

Fraser could feel himself quickly falling asleep, the post-orgasmic glow dragging him towards unconsciousness. “Will you be here when I wake up?” He felt foolish as soon as he asked, as this was, after all, just a dream.

Fraser felt the strong arms enclosing him tighten almost imperceptibly. “I’ll be here whenever you need me.” The voice was soft, gentle and soothing. It warmed a part of him he hadn’t realised was cold.

As Fraser drifted into darkness his last conscious thought was how nice it was to be held as he fell to sleep.

***

So what do you think?

Another DS Fanfic for GetFraserLaid

2006-09-21T20:37:36Z

Title: Restraint
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,317
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Notes: ultra_chrome did a wonderful job betaing this for me. Written for prompt 18. Fraser/Kowalski - Mix up Ray's flat, handcuffs, a fridge (hehe), a rimjob, add a wee bit of dirty talk and then give it a good shake.
Disclaimer: Yeah, right.
Summary: "Fraser, what do you want?"

“What do you want?”
“I… I…can’t…oooh…ah.”
“What do you want?”

A little background: For reasons that relate to Stanley Raymond Kowalski(currently known as Ray Vecchio and henceforth referred to as Ray)’s feelings for Benton Fraser, Ray has requested that he may be allowed to restrain said person. For reasons that relate to Benton Fraser’s feelings for the aforesaid Ray, Benton Fraser has consented to being handcuffed.

Since this would be entirely inappropriate in a work venue the current activities are occurring in the apartment occupied by Ray. And because Ray considers routine to be the silent killer, the current activities are taking place in the kitchen of said apartment.

Benton Fraser is bent face down over the kitchen table, his hands manacled behind him. He is protected from splinters (and the table protected from stains), by a dishcloth spread over the table, under his groin. Ray is kneeling behind him, his face level with Fraser’s ass. He is at present nuzzling and kissing the backs of Fraser’s thighs. Every so often he gives Fraser a little nip because he likes the high-pitched squeak of surprise that Fraser makes every time he does it.

He asks again: “Fraser, what do you want?”
Fraser just whimpers, clearly far too aroused to think coherently.
“Do you want me to suck you? Fuck you? Spank you?”
The last item causes a low moan to issue from Fraser’s throat.
“You like that idea? Kinky, kinky Mountie.”

Ray grins and gets to his feet. It is probably worth pointing out that this grin is the only thing that Ray is wearing. Fraser is likewise unclothed.

Ray strokes Fraser’s backside gently with his right hand, then raises said hand and brings it down sharply on Fraser’s upraised ass. Fraser grunts and thrusts forward, humping the table. Ray repeats the action and Fraser’s response is similarly repeated.

Ray continues until Fraser’s ass-cheeks are tinged red and his own erection is thick and heavy. Fraser is keening quietly, his behind raised in an obvious bid for attention.

“What now Fraser? There are so many things I could do to you.”
Ray’s voice is low and sultry. He rubs his hand over Fraser’s warmed and reddened skin.
“I’m just dying to touch you Fraser, to taste you, to give you pleasure. But I’m not going to. You have to tell me exactly what it is you want. You have to beg me for it.”
Fraser remains silent.
“Come on Fraser, it’s not that hard.” Ray pauses to stroke himself, a small amount of pre-come leaking from the tip of his erection. “You’ve already had me spank you. How much more depraved can your desires be?”
Fraser’s face flushes a dull red colour and his hips shift awkwardly on the table. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to focus. The effort this takes is visible.
“I want you to… I want you to put your tongue in me.” He squeezes his eyes shut, obviously prepared to be rebuffed.
Instead a slow smile spreads across Ray’s face. “Is that so? Well, where are your manners Mountie? It only takes an extra second to be courteous.”
“Please Ray!”
“Please what?”
Fraser’s voice is low and rough, humiliation evident on his flushed face. “Please put your tongue in me Ray. I’d like you to… put your tongue in my anus, if you would be so kind.”
“Your wish is my command. You only had to ask.”

Ray resumes his kneeling position. He uses his hands to spread Fraser’s ass-cheeks and expose the small pucker between them. It is clenched into a tight point. Ray blows on it gently and it twitches fractionally. Fraser lets out a choked giggle which tapers off and transforms into a low groan as Ray leans forward and runs his tongue over aforementioned pucker.

Ray laps gently at Fraser’s hole, enjoying each and every gasp, sigh and whimper he wrings out of Fraser.

Fraser is rocking his hips in earnest now, clearly desperate to reach completion, beyond caring how shameless and wanton his behaviour appears.

As Fraser’s anus relaxes, Ray stiffens his tongue and abruptly shoves it inside Fraser. Fraser’s reaction is immediate; he lets out a loud grunt and thrusts his ass backwards towards Ray’s face, attempting to intensify the feeling.

Ray jerks his head backwards and remains out of range of Fraser’s hips. “If you want to come any time today Fraser, you’re going to hold still. Otherwise I may just leave you here and go take care of myself.”

The speed with which Fraser locks himself in position is almost comical.

Ray returns to his task, flicking his tongue against that vital spot. Fraser continues to hold himself still, his body shaking with the effort of not moving into the sensation.

Ray drops his head lower, moving his mouth so he can suck and lick the back of Fraser’s ball-sac. Fraser’s testicles are tight and heavy, he is obviously nearing orgasm.

Deciding to bring Fraser’s torture to an end, Ray briefly sucks on one of his fingers and then, without warning, uses it to penetrate Fraser. Fraser screams in pleasure and climaxes powerfully, soaking the towel beneath him in semen.

Fraser falls limply forward onto the table, his muscles completely relaxed. Ray rises stiffly to his feet, his legs cramped and slightly sore due to his former position. He reaches over to the kitchen counter and retrieves the handcuff key, using it to release Fraser’s wrists. Fraser’s arms drop onto the table and he remains motionless, seemingly prepared to slumber in that awkward position.

“Oh no you don’t buddy.” Ray gives Fraser’s ass another sharp slap and Fraser jerks abruptly. “Now it’s my turn.”

Ray manhandles Fraser to his feet and turns him so that they are facing one another. “I want you to suck me. Take me deep into that pretty mouth of yours.” Fraser nods dazedly.

Ray reclines against the nearest vertical surface and pushes on Fraser’s shoulders, encouraging him to sink to his knees. Tilting his head back, Fraser looks into Ray’s eyes, which are heavy-lidded with desire. Then Fraser opens his mouth and engulfs Ray’s swollen erection.

The fridge is cool against Ray’s back and Fraser’s mouth is hot on Ray’s cock. Ray moves his hands to tangle in Fraser’s dark, silky hair. He tightens his grip and proceeds to fuck Fraser’s mouth.

Fraser steadies himself by holding onto Ray’s hips and keeps his mouth open and his throat loose. The earlier activities have caused a state of extreme arousal in Ray and it is not long before he is crying out and spurting a moderate quantity of come into Fraser’s mouth. Fraser promptly swallows the salty fluid.

Now almost as boneless as Fraser, Ray allows himself to slide to the floor and reaches out to embrace the kneeling Fraser. Fraser returns the hug, clutching Ray tightly and whispering into his neck, “Oh, I never imagined, Ray, oh Ray…”
“I know Fraser, I know.” Ray’s voice is suddenly and unexpectedly hoarse.

He moves and briefly kisses Fraser on the lips, close-mouthed. Fraser returns the gesture and soon the pair are scattering light kisses across each other’s faces. There is nothing sexual in the act; rather it is an expression of the joy they are currently experiencing.

In a few minutes the couple will drag themselves into the bedroom and collapse into an exhausted sleep.

In a few hours they will awaken and return to the everyday world of work, stealing glances and touches whenever they can.

And a few hours after that they will return to this apartment and find a new way to communicate their love for one another, or rediscover an old one.

And a few hours after that? Only time will tell.

The only certain thing is that whatever they choose to do, they will choose to do it together.

It’s more satisfying that way.

***

So what do you think?

Dr Who Fanfic for Noglove_nolove

2006-09-21T20:28:46Z

Title: Planning For The Future
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Rose/Nine
Word Count: 1,930
Notes: Many thanks to lornelover for betaing this for me. Without her invaluable help this would be much shorter and nowhere near as good. And thanks to ultra_chrome for general spell-checking and encouragement. Written for alizarin_nyc, for the noglove_nolove challenge. I have never written for the Doctor Who fandom before, so please be brutally honest.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them. And I would give absolutely anything for a TARDIS of my very own.
Summary: Besides, how often do you get to shag an alien?

She feels a little guilty. After all, she is still technically dating Mickey. But that just means they haven’t officially broken up. After all, he’s on Earth and she’s… here. Long distance relationships never really work out, especially when one of the pair doesn’t know exactly when the other one will be receiving their call. It could be today, it could be tomorrow, it could be last Thursday. She can’t mention anything she’s said before, in case he hasn’t heard it yet.

And she’s certainly not expecting him to wait for her. She’s not really sure she wants him to. She’s become a different person now. She’s seen the world end; she’s held her dying father’s hand. She’s grown. They wouldn’t fit, not like they used to. It wouldn’t be easy or relaxed anymore. It wouldn’t be fun

And she thinks she should tell him this but she doesn’t want to hurt him. She’s hoping he’ll work the same things out on his own. And that’s another part of the problem. Even when they do mange to be in the same timeline they have nothing to say to one another. They have almost nothing left in common.

She stares gloomily at the stars as she shifts the converted mobile in her hands. Call him? Don’t call him? What would be the least distressing option? Then she straightens, turns away from the screen decisively and puts the phone back into her pocket.

So she feels bad about what she’s going to do. But she tries to be positive anyway. Because it’s not like Mickey owns her. And it’s not as if they were married. She’s her own woman, she can make up her own mind and she has decided.

Besides, how often do you get to shag an alien?

***

“…so we change the differential, reverse the polarity of the neutron flow, re-screw the hydro-matrix, flip this switch and… voila. Instant coffee.”

She stops listening when he starts using words of four syllables and above. Usually it’s not important, not really. He’s thinking out loud, or showing off, and she just has to nod and smile and listen to the last sentence so that she knows what the plan is.

Besides, while he’s spouting techno-babble, she gets a chance to admire his… assets.

Currently he’s showing her how to make a coffee machine out of some bits of wire, some glass tubes and something called a rehop-crank. He’s on his hands and knees, his voice issuing from under a pile of complicated machinery and she has an excellent view of his arse. It’s perfectly framed by those tight blue jeans.

She’s been thinking more about her plan. After all, she can’t just come straight out and say it, she’s not that kind of girl. Besides he’s hundreds of years old and he can go anywhere and anywhen, he could have any girl he likes. So she’s got to do something special.

Mind you, out of all the people he could have picked to travel with him he picked her, that’s got to mean something, right?

Although… does he even like human women? Is it even physically possible for them to…? God, what if he has… tentacles or something… down there?

This requires more research. The TARDIS must have something about the Doctor’s people in its computer.

***

Half-human. That’s useful to know. It means they’re definitely compatible. A little too compatible. And there’s disease to consider. The TARDIS isn’t clear on the Doctor’s age, but his people seem to work in centuries. Who knows what kind of new (or old) infections he’s got.

Where’s she supposed to get condoms from? It’s not like the TARDIS has a pharmacy on board.

This needs more planning than she originally expected.

***

One trip back to Earth, London, 2005 and she’s sorted. She told him she wanted to see her mum. He left her alone, saying he didn’t want to spoil their family time (although she knows it’s really because they can’t stand each other), giving her time to stop at Boots on her way to back the TARDIS.

She also found some time to see Mickey. It was painful. They’d been together for years. If the Doctor hadn’t come along they’d probably have ended up married, in a flat a few floors up from her mother, with 2.4 kids and a dog. But she doesn’t think she could do that anymore. Once you’ve seen the Earth from space a normal life seems unimaginably dull and two-dimensional.

He asked if it was because of the Doctor and she told him, truthfully, that they hadn’t done anything. She’s not sure he believes her and that hurts too. There was a time when they wouldn’t have dreamed of lying to each other.

But it’s done now. And she can concentrate on what she wants her future to be.

Now she’s just got to convince the Doctor that she’s a part of his.

***

It’s time to make her move. The Doctor is leaning on the main console of the TARDIS, his head bowed, his shoulders tense.

She was first attracted to the Doctor by his energy. He seemed to never stop moving, to always have a new idea or another plan to put in motion. But as she’s got to know him better she’s realised there’s more to him than that. He’s also in pain. Terrible, unending, unimaginable pain. When they visit a new place there are things to see, and usually people to help, and he forgets, or can ignore it, at least for a little while. But when the adventure’s over it’s like he has nothing left. He folds in on himself and becomes quiet and withdrawn.

She’s heard his stories of his people, the Time Lords. She has no idea what it must be like to know you’re the only one of your kind left in the entire universe. But she does know he’s lonely. And, over time, she’s realised that she wants to do what she can to make that loneliness better. She wants to be the one who takes away his pain. She thinks that’s probably the best definition of love that there is.

Hopefully he feels the same way.

She walks up behind him, gathering her courage. She puts her hands on his shoulders and begins to massage them gently. He relaxes slightly under her hands and, encouraged, she applies more pressure.

When she’s convinced he’s as relaxed as she can possibly make him she stops and tugs on his arm, turning him around to face her. She wraps her arms around him and holds him close. She waits until he returns the hug before moving her head so that she can kiss his neck.

He freezes and she draws her head back so that she can see his face. He releases her and steps backward, keeping his eyes on hers. She can see understanding dawn on his face before his expression becomes abnormally blank.

He stares through her with so much concentration it’s as if he’s trying to calculate the orbital velocity of Mars. She has enough time to wonder if he’s thinking about how to let her down gently, then he seems to reach a decision. He holds out a hand. She takes it and he leads her towards his bedroom.

***

She uses her mouth to put the condom on (An old trick. They really are the best). The latex tastes bitter. She ignores it and explores his shape with her tongue. Not really different from any other guy, any human guy.

She takes him in as deep as she can and swallows, then backs off and uses her hand to play with the base as she sucks on the head. His hands move to tangle in her hair and she can feel the calluses on his fingers rubbing her scalp.

Then he pulls her off him and tugs her to her feet. He holds her at arms length and his fingers dig painfully into her arms. He is panting and his eyes are wild. He looks her up and down as if he’s trying to convince himself that she’s real and not some figment of his imagination.

She opens her mouth, to reassure him, to tell him not to worry, to say something, anything, that will break this suddenly deafening silence.

But before she can get a word out he pulls her close and kisses her fiercely, almost violently. He wraps his arms around her, crushing her to him. It’s actually quite uncomfortable and she lets out a small gasp.

He lets go at once and tries to move away, his face twisting in an expression of guilt. She pulls him back straightaway. This is her chance to show him how much she cares and she’s not going to let it, or him, slip away from her.

She initiates the next kiss, moving her mouth gently with his. He opens up to her and lets her push his leather jacket to the floor. He steps back again, this time to pull his white t-shirt over his head. His skin is very pale and his nipples are small and tight. She reaches out and rubs them, making him groan softly.

She pulls off her own t-shirt and undoes her bra, feeling a little nervous. After all, God knows how many women he’s seen and she’s nothing special, not really. The cold makes her nipples harden and, steeling herself, she drops her jeans and knickers in one go.

He’s used the time to get rid of his own trousers and they stand naked, facing each other. The ridiculousness of the situation threatens to make her burst into giggles. Instead she reaches for him. He meets her halfway and they resume kissing.

As they kiss he leads her to the bed that’s pushed into the corner. It’s narrow and the mattress is thin. It doesn’t look like he uses it often, as if he stays awake rather than risk the dreams, nightmares really, that wait for him in sleep. All at once a wave of sorrow threatens to overcome her and for a second she feels as old as he must be.

She lies on the bed and he crouches over her. He strokes his fingers over her breasts and down her body to her clit. He rubs and strokes it with a skill that must have been acquired over centuries of practice. Soon she’s gasping for breath, moving her hips into his hand, on the verge of begging for him.

He seems to sense that she has reached her breaking point and he lowers himself onto her, entering her in one smooth push. There’s an initial pain but it quickly fades as he continues to finger her clit while thrusting rhythmically.

Soon she is clenching around him, her ears ringing from the force of her orgasm. Then she goes completely limp. At this point the Doctor begins to pick up speed, chasing after his own pleasure.

His eyes are screwed tightly shut as he moves inside her and there’s an expression on his face that looks almost like pain.

Far too late she begins to doubt herself and her ‘grand plan’. Is it her he really wants? How does she know he’s not imaging some wife or girlfriend who was killed with the rest of his people? What if he’s just using her, fucking her because anything is better than being as alone as he was?

As he comes he gasps one word.

“Rose!”

She smiles. He’s thinking of her. That’s a start.

***

So what do you think?

Sisterhood Challenge

2006-09-21T20:19:16Z

Title: Changed
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Rating: PG
Word Count: 350
Notes: Frannie has a turn at being introspective. (One day I will get to write some actual sex!) Many thanks to ultra_chrome for betaing this for me.
Disclaimer: I wish.
Summary: He’s changed

He’s changed.

That was the first thing she noticed. He used to argue and moan, sure. But he was never violent, never went in with his fists when he could use words instead. She’d always figured that was Pop’s influence.

He won’t look at her either. She didn’t notice that at first, she was so glad he was back.

And he hasn’t asked after Ma.

People think she’s dumb ‘cause sometimes she can’t get the words out right, or that she’s an airhead because of the way she dresses. But she grew up in the neighbourhood, grew up with the shadow of Zuko’s old man hanging over her head. She probably knows more about the way the mob works than some of these so-called ‘experts’.

So she wonders what Ray had to do while he was undercover that would make him act this way. She wonders what he’s ashamed of.

She also wonders what he sees in Stella Kowalski because, for all his talk of true love and love at first sight, her brother’s always been slow to fall. And if he was going to fall, Madame States Attorney really isn’t his type. He prefers dark hair, simple values: traditional Italian-Catholic girls. A career woman who most definitely does not want kids is a complete switch.

And that makes her wonder too. Ray always wanted a heap of kids, talked about how he was going to raise them right (Pop’s influence again). If he’s changed his mind about the kids, maybe he’s changed his mind about being the kind of guy who can raise them right.

If she asked Ray he’d lie or refuse to say anything. He’d call it protecting her, but dammit, she doesn’t need protecting. She works in a Police Station, she’s seen people at their worst before, she’s even spent the day with a corpse for God’s sake.

He’s her brother and whatever he’s done, whatever’s haunting him, he’s come home safe. That’s all she cares about. That’s all that matters.

And anybody who says anything different is going to have to come through her.

Capiche?

***

So what do you think?

DS Fanfic For GetFraserLaid

2006-08-19T15:45:14Z

Title: Spicing It Up
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,329
Notes: Thank you kindly to ultra_chrome for betaing this for me. (And for catching one really cringe worthy sentence.) Written for getfraserlaid prompt 19: Fraser/Kowalski - Fraser talks Ray into phonesex (yes, that way round)
Disclaimer: Wish I owned them, but I don’t.
Summary: It was all Fraser’s idea.

It was all Fraser’s idea. He’d been reading these books – his idea of a relationships 101. See, Fraser hasn’t got all that much experience with actually being with someone in a more than strictly platonic sense, so he was nervous about screwing everything up. In order to “Properly prepare for a long-term commitment,” he’d got these relationship books out the library. Ray hadn’t the heart to tell him they were all full of shit. Fraser was so earnest sometimes. Stopping him would have been like kicking a puppy, only a thousand times worse because at least puppies don’t say stuff like “Well I was only trying to help.”
Anyway, the up-shot of this was that Fraser made a list of all the things the books said were important. And one of the things in one of the books was about spicing up your relationship, keeping it interesting.
Ray said their relationship was interesting enough already and Fraser said, “What happened to routine being the silent killer?” And it went on from there and eventually, to get that slightly crushed look off Fraser’s face, Ray said, “Interesting how?” And that’s how it began.

Ring

“We could be in bed, doing this together for real, in person.”
“Ray, you said you’d give this a try.”
“Doesn’t mean I’ve got to take it seriously.”
“Ray.”
“Fine.”
“So, ah… What are you wearing?”
“Isn’t that a bit of a cliché? I expected better of you Fraser.”
“Well how would you like me to start?”
“Tell me… Tell me the first fantasy you had about me.”
“Isn’t that a bit personal?”
“I thought that was the whole point, strengthening relationships, communication, getting really personal with each other. Of course if you don’t want to do this…”
“No, no I’m fine. I just don’t want you to think any less of me.”
“Fraser there is nothing you could say to make me think any less of you. And if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been jerking off thinking about you since day one.”
“Oh.”
“What now?”
“That’s quite an image Ray.”
“When we’re done here you can have a demonstration first-hand. Now spill!”
“Is that meant to be a euphemism?”
“Stop prevac… prevan…”
“Prevaricating?”
“Yeah that. C’mon Fraser, this was your idea.”
“Very well. My first fantasy. The first day I saw you I found you attractive. Your physical appearance is very striking and you were impulsive, explosive. When I had some time to myself I wondered how your impulsiveness would translate into sexual situations. I imagined that you would be given to having sex at any time, in any locality if the mood struck you.”
“So what’s the fantasy?”
“I… enjoyed… the idea of you deciding to perform oral sex upon me and being unable to wait for me to complete sentry duty.”
“Whoa, hot image. In public, in uniform and on duty. You are one kinky guy Frase. But now I need details.”
“Details?”
“What exactly did I do? Did I take you all in at once or did I lick you like an ice cream cone? Did I spit or swallow? How did you think it would feel?”
“Oh.”
“Fraser, seriously, I know this was your idea but if this is making you uncomfortable we can stop. There’s loads of other stuff we can try.”
“I want to continue. I just need a moment to gather my thoughts. The erotic charge I get when I hear you articulate such carnal phrases is very distracting.”
“I’m turning you on.”
“Precisely.”
“Now, this fantasy…”
“Oh yes.
I’m standing guard outside the Consulate in full dress uniform. It’s a warm day but the street is devoid of life. Then you drive up. You’re wearing those tight black jeans, a white, sleeveless t-shirt and your sunglasses.
After you exit the car you stand leaning against it, directly in my line of vision. You are visibly aroused and you stroke yourself through your jeans, trying to tempt me into coming to you. But I cannot leave my post.
So you smile that wide, electric smile, the one that always leaves me weak at the knees, and you walk over to me. You kiss my still lips, then without speaking, you kneel before me.
You reach underneath my tunic and unfasten the necessary buttons. Then you draw out my already erect penis. You stroke me twice, quickly, then use your thumb to evenly spread my pre-come around the head. You lean forward and take the head into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around me, licking up the fluid you have just liberally smeared over me. You then suck lightly before releasing me entirely and sitting back on your heels.
I am so dismayed by this loss I cannot help but look down and I see my flushed face reflected in your sunglasses. I want to ask you to continue but I cannot bring myself to break this exquisite silence.
You seem to understand my conflict, for you grin quickly then duck your head to resume your task. You lick me slowly, leisurely, as if we were not in public but in the privacy of a darkened bedroom. Your hand clasps my base as you lean even further forward in order to take me deep inside your mouth.
Once I am inside you use your tongue to rub the vein running along the underside. Then you inhale through your nose, remove the hand at the base and swallow me whole. I can feel the head of my penis brushing the back of your throat and the knowledge that you are willing to take me in so deep causes me to ejaculate.
You lean back and swallow, then wipe your mouth on your arm.
You stand and the bulge in your jeans is even more clearly defined. You smirk at me and unzip yourself. You’re not wearing any underwear. Your penis is thick and dark and you’re leaking pre-come copiously. You take yourself in hand and stroke yourself roughly, your mouth going slack with pleasure as you reach completion.
Then you lean forward and kiss me and I have no choice but to respond. Your semen soaked hand leaves wet trails on my face. I don’t care.”
“Oh God, Fraser.”
“Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“You… you have to a…ask. That was soooo fucking… Uhhhhhh.”
“Ray?”
“Give… give me a second to get my breath back.”
“Did you just… ah?”
“Come my brains out? Yeah.”
“Oh Ray.”
“Are you touching yourself now Fraser?”
“Oh yesssss.”
“I bet you look so hot right now Fraser. I bet your cock’s so hard it’s aching. I bet you’re flushed and your nipples are hard.
If I was there with you I’d lick them for you, take them into my mouth and suck on them, one by one. I’d bite down, ‘cause I know you like that little edge of pain. Then I’d move down to your balls and I’d do the same.”
“Ray! Ray, Ray, Ray! Ahhhh.”
“You alright there Fraser?”
“I’m…ah…fine Ray.”
“Made a bit of a mess huh.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Doesn’t matter. What matters is you gettin’ your ass here so I can get you in my arms.”
“I want to embrace you as well Ray. I’ve become accustomed to having you lying with me at night.”
“That’s sweet Frase.”
“Thank you kindly Ray.”
“You’re kindly welcome. Now get back here!”
“Right away. I love you Ray.”
“And I you Fraser.”

Click

So Fraser’s experiment wasn’t so bad really. In fact it turned out to be freaking hot. Who’d have thought the Mountie was so uninhibited behind that buttoned up exterior? Ray had known Fraser was a closet romantic but he hadn’t known he was a closet sex fiend too. Personally Ray can’t wait to see what other spices Fraser is thinking of adding to their relationship. In fact he’s hoping that one of them includes whipped cream, handcuffs and Maple syrup.

***

So what do you think?

Cheating Challenge

2006-08-19T15:40:48Z

Title: Hard Guy
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Rating: PG-13, for implied violence.
Word Count: 468
Notes: More introspection. This one’s a lot more depressing. Many thanks to ultra_chrome for betaing this for me.
Disclaimer: I really wish I owned them, but I don’t.
Summary: Ray really doesn’t want to do this.

His name’s Luciano Dawson (His mother’s Italian but his father’s American, 5’8, blue eyes, 27, he likes classic cars, watches Friends, listens to Elvis, doesn’t have a girlfriend and wants to one day fly in a helicopter over the Grand Canyon.) and he’s fairly well known at ‘The Sunset Club.’ He’s a friendly guy, talks about himself a lot, which is how Ray knows all this stuff.

But right now Ray wishes that Luci (As he likes to be called,) wasn’t such a friendly guy, that Ray didn’t know so much about him or that what he did know wasn’t good. He wishes the guy were a wife-beater or a child molester or some two-bit hood that beats up on old ladies.

See Luci’s a nice guy but…

It’s just that…

He cheats at cards.

And when you’re playing against The Mob that’s not a smart thing to do. Because The Mob doesn’t like that kind of thing. The Mob have people to deal with that kind of thing. People who do more than give a sharp and pointed lecture on ethics. (Although sharp and pointed things are involved.) People like Armando Langoustini.

Ray really doesn’t want to do this. He hasn’t done much undercover before but he’s seen guys who have, long term; he’s seen their eyes, slightly empty, slightly disconnected. And he knows that’s because they have to keep a part of themselves separate to keep themselves sane. But Ray realises now that that part must be constantly watching, constantly forced to see what their hands are doing, constantly horrified by what they have become. Ray never wanted to split himself like that; naively, stupidly, thought he could get through this without having to do that to himself.

But he has no choice. If he doesn’t do this, if he shows the revulsion he feels, his cover will be blown. And then, if he’s lucky, he’ll be dead. If he’s unlucky he’ll be wishing he was in Luci’s shoes.

And just think of all the people he’ll help in the long run by getting rid of all these Mob guys. (Excuses, just excuses. What would his Ma say if she saw him now? What would Benny say? Don’t think about that.)

In fact he can’t think at all, can’t find any way to avoid this. And that’s the crux of the matter. Because if Benny were here he’d talk him out of it, he’d find someway for him not to do this. (Probably involving the Inuit and/or jumping off something, definitely destroying a suit in the process.) But Benny’s not here. Ray is. And his mind’s gone numbly blank.

It’s time. Time to see if he can do this, if he can hack it as a hard-guy in Vegas.

He reaches for Luciano’s fingers.

Something breaks.

***

So what do you think?

Laundry Challenge

2006-08-12T22:56:25Z

Title: Doing The Laundry
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Rating: Probably PG
Word Count: 330
Notes: I wanted to write fluff, I ended up with introspection. Oh well. Many thanks to ultra_chrome for betaing this for me.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I’d have a lot more money than I do at the moment.
Summary: Doing the laundry, that’s what they call it.

Growing up with Frankie, in those days before he saw what he was really like and when he thought that having money wouldn’t be so bad, he considered it. But part of the draw was the adventure, the danger. It wasn’t just making a living, it was a whole lifestyle.

Then he saw what that ‘lifestyle’ did to other people and he decided it wasn’t for him.

Now he’s in Vegas, living that life after all.

When he agreed to the whole mob thing he figured it would be a lot more… exciting. There’s the constant threat of discovery hanging over his head, sure. But he figures that’s more wet-the-bed-and-wake-up-screaming terrifying than exiting. And the living in the lap of luxury thing’s pretty amazing. He has to keep reminding himself not to gape like some yokel and to use the right fork. And the suits… He could buy his whole wardrobe back home for the price of one of the suits he wears here.

The stuff they’ve got him doing though, he thought he was going to be more active – collecting racket money, threatening people, that kind of thing. And mostly he’s glad he doesn’t have to do that stuff, be that man. There’s a part of him, the part that got a kick out of having Zuko look at him with fear in his eyes, that’s afraid he might like it too much. But there’s a bit of him that’s bored. He never thought he’d miss Benny’s suit wrecking stunts, but he wants to be out there, on the streets, doing something, anything, that feels real. Wants to be doing anything but this day in, day out.

The Bookman – the name should have given him a clue. ‘Cause he keeps the books, makes the balance sheets balance, tracks the incomings and outgoings, makes everything look nice and legal for the IRS.

Doing the laundry, that’s what they call it.

And the mob’s got a lot of money to clean.

***

So what do you think?

7DS Challenge

2006-07-16T20:40:29Z

Title: Seven Deadly Sins
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Rating: R – For sexual situations.
Parings: Various mentioned/implied.
Author’s notes: Written amazingly belatedly (around 18 months) for ds_flashfiction’s 7DS (Deadly sins) challenge. Because I am using the old challenges as inspiration for new fic, as I wasn’t around when they were first issued.
Thanks to ultra_chrome for looking this over for me.
Disclaimer: Not mine, however much I may wish different. I'm doing this for fun, not profit.
Word Count: 700
Summary: 100 words on each of the seven sins.

Envy
He watches the other children. He sees them laughing, playing. He hates them. His mother used to play with him. Now he has no one to play with. He wants to play so much. He wants someone to hug him and tell him everything will be all right. But nothing’s all right and it never will be. He and his mom were best friends. Now he’s all alone. He wants a new best friend. He wants his old best friend back. He wants this empty feeling to go away. He wants the pain to stop. He wants to be normal.

Pride
He stands and surveys the land he must protect. It has been a long and arduous journey but he has finally convinced his enemies that they must abandon their corrupt machinations. Of course there could be no other outcome. Logic, and the law, were on his side, were his sword and shield. It is said that Sergeant Robert Fraser can track a ghost over solid ice and it is a reputation he richly deserves. He has never yet failed to apprehend a criminal, to get his man, and this time will be no exception. He will return triumphant.
A gunshot.

Gluttony
Round, glittering with sugar, sweet, alluring. You can never have just one. These delicacies were not available in the icy lands. It is now impossible to remember the life before these mouth-watering snacks. Despite his master’s orders he has found those who will supply him with the tempting treat. Eat and eat and eat and eat. Taste them, chew them, swallow them down, moaning in delight. As many as possible now, later he may not get the chance. Delectable, delightful, delicious.
He is full now, too full. His stomach complains. He groans wretchedly.
His master’s voice, disapproving, “Dief, you glutton.”

Sloth
She knows she should get up. She has things to do, vital things. But it’s been so long since she’s been this comfortable, felt this relaxed. The pleasant things in life have seemed like a distant dream. Now, for the first time in a long time, her body is sated and she feels like idling. There are plans to be put in action but the part of her that still loves resists the idea. She wants to rest, to forget what must be done and bask in the warmth and security of the body beside her.
Just five more minutes.

Lust
She often imagines what he’d look like naked. All that smooth white skin, his broad shoulders and those deep blue eyes… She thinks he’d be shy, nervous, eager to please. Her favourite fantasy involves calling him into her office and ordering him to pleasure her. He’s so very good at taking orders. He writes his own reprimands too. Secretly she wonders what other types of discipline he would enjoy. Once she brought herself to orgasm while speaking with him on the phone. He never realised. There’s so much she’d like to do to him. She wants to see him sweat.

Greed
This is the life. Expensive suits, buttermilk on tap, any girl he wants. Armando Langoustini sure had good taste. A butler, a private barber, free tickets to any and every game that’s on. Whatever he wants and everything he’s ever wanted. If only Frankie Zuko could see him now. He finally has some real power and some real respect. No family surrounding him day and night with their incessant chatter. No best friend dragging him on crazy, clothes destroying escapades.
It’ll feel great when he gets used to it, once the shock’s worn off.
Yeah. This must be the life.

Anger
It makes his blood boil to see Fraser like this. Fraser’s an optimist, a dreamer. It’s not right for Fraser to be so quiet, so hopeless, so lost. He wants to do something about it, needs to do something about it or he’s gonna explode. He itches to punch something, kick someone in the head. Screw due process, he has to do something now. He’s got to make this right, got to get that look off Fraser’s face.
He’s got a plan. He’s gonna make it all better.
He’s gonna get the man who dared to fuck with his Mountie.

***

So what did you think?

Dreams Challenge

2006-07-16T20:32:31Z

Title: Cravings
Author: Luciferofthecircle
Rating: There’s some dark imagery. PG-13 to be safe?
Word Count: 259
Notes: I haven’t written much before, so I’m taking this challenge as an opportunity to experiment with regards to style. I’ve been reading a lot of Neil Gaiman lately so this was inspired/influenced by him.
Disclaimer: They aren't mine and I'm not maiking any money.
Summary: No creature can exist without dreaming

They lie together, dark hair mingling, pale skin next to pale skin. Her mind reaching for his tangling, twisting, ensnaring him. Some kind of succubi, dark and scheming. Feeding on his thoughts, desires, fears and dreams. Seeing past, seeing future, all that he is, was and will ever be. Taking dreams both long forgotten and before they are even formed. Knowing before he does what will come to pass. Knowing better than him how he came to be this way.

No creature can exist without dreaming, dreams bring sanity, perspective. Those deprived of dreaming take the dreams of others; twist them to their own needs. This is not sustainable, this is not life but a mere extension of existence, depressing and colourless, filled with darkness until crushing despair calls for a final cessation. And the dreamers who sustain them are also called into the pit if, at the time of ending, they cannot break free.

She feeds.

Glimpses, flashes, a taste of snow, a wan child crying for his mother. She never comes. A child’s drawing. A man on horseback. The woods, late at night. Images flickering, too fast to see, to comprehend. Impressions, fleeting. A boomerang?

A snowstorm. The northern lights above. Love. Pain. Conflict. Darkness. Whose? What cause?

A light, a golden Ray of sunshine. A future, without her. Love. Healing. Resolution. Light. Joy. A happy ending. Eventually.

So now she knows. She cannot change or avoid what is to come. She does not wish to. What will be must be.

She rises and begins to clean.

***

So what do you think? If you don’t get it, please say. Unbetaed as I do not have one. (I’d like one though – hint, hint)

Ds_Flashfiction

2006-07-05T19:06:53Z

I have decided that I am going to go through ds_flashfiction’s old challenges and write a fic for each one, as a way of getting me into the swing of writing fic. I will also enter new challenges as they come along and add them here. My fics will be posted to my LJ and linked to from this index post. Enjoy!

180 Degrees
5 Minutes After Challenge
7DS Challenge
Amnesty 2003
Amnesty 2005
Anywhere Challenge
Apocalypse Challenge
Authority Challenge
Badfic Challenge
Canoe Challenge
Challenge Challenge
Cheating Challenge
Chicago Holiday Challenge
Cliché Challenge
Courtesy Challenge
Curtain Challenge
Darkest Before Dawn Challenge
Darkness Challenge
Dating Challenge
Dead Bob Challenge
Depot Challenge
Dirty Challenge
Documentation Challenge
Dog's Life Challenge
Door Challenge
Double-Take Challenge
Dreams Challenge
FFU Challenge
Footwear Challenge
For Richer or Poorer Challenge
Foreign Tongue Challenge
Forgiveness Challenge
Fraser Whompin' Challenge
Fuck or Die Challenge
Genderfuck Challenge
Genre Challenge
Genre Redux Challenge
Halloween Challenge
Hourglass Challenge
Ice Challenge
Icon Challenge
Ink Challenge
Items Challenge
Jewelry Challenge
Kaleidoscope Challenge
Key Challenge
Knickers Challenge
Laundry Challenge
Lie or Lay Challenge
Make-Up Challenge
Marriage Challenge
Masturbation Challenge
Mendacity Challenge
Miracle Challenge
Mix and Match Challenge
Movies Challenge
Mute Fraser Challenge
NOS Challenge
Naive Fraser Challenge
Necking Challenge
New Environments Challenge
No Power Challenge
OC Challenge
One Night Stand Challenge
Packing Challenge
Paint Challenge
Porn Challenge
Public Sex Challenge
Queer Challenge
Recipe Challenge
Scars Challenge
School Challenge
Sexual Exploration Challenge
Shakespeare Challenge
Sisterhood Challenge
Something Gets It Challenge
Songfic Challenge
Summer of '79 Challenge
Sweat Challenge
Telephone Challenge
Threesome Challenge
Transportation Challenge
Turnbull Likes Cheese Challenge
Undercover Amnesty
Undercover Challenge
Vecchio Challenge
Voyeurism Challenge
Water Challenge
Weaponry Challenge

The concept of Due South is the property of Alliance and the characters belong to the actors who played them. I’m just having fun and making no profit.

Due South/Harry Potter Crossover

2006-06-18T11:15:02Z

Title: Harry Potter and the Incredibly Contrived Crossover
Author: lucifercircle A.K.A Luciferofthecircle
Pairing: Fraser/Ray K
Rating: PG-13 for Language and Partial Nudity.
Author’s Notes: Written for the ds_flashfiction Badfic Challenge. Unbetaed by anyone but myself, although I did check it quite thoroughly. Any typos, misspellings, just point them out and I’ll fix them. Please review; I want to know what needs improving, as I’m not a very experienced writer. Is it too long? Too short? How’s my characterisation? Let me know.
Unfamiliar Words: I have read Harry Potter (Avidly) and I am aware that the Exams in the books are OWLs and NEWTs and the wizard prison is Azkaban. However as this story begins in America there is a different school system and more prisons. (Just as there is in RL.)
Prompt: One day, an owl dropped a letter on the head of one Benton Fraser. Now, he's jetting across the Atlantic to teach Muggle Studies in a magic school, along with a man named Stanley Kowalski. But what's this? Why does Snape have that look on his face? Who's Voldemort, and why is he after Fraser? And where the hell is Harry Potter? (X-over with HP; pre-HBP.)

Warnings: Slash, slash, slash, slash, het, slash. And slash. Because everyone except Stella is gay. Basically. For quiet_aversion

Disclaimer: I am not Paul Gross, Paul Haggis or J.K. Rowling. Therefore these are not mine. I am making no money.

Word count: 1,775

Harry Potter and the Incredibly Contrived Crossover

Ray: Hey Fraser?
Fraser: Yes Ray?
Ray: You said this was a Due South movie.
Fraser: It is Ray.
Ray: Then why is the title Harry Potter and the Incredibly Contrived Crossover?
Fraser: Well you see Ray, due to budget cuts and lack of sponsors Alliance wasn’t able to fund a Due South movie. However the studios producing Harry Potter are Due South fans and so agreed….
Ray: We’re in Chicago! Harry Potter’s set at some boarding school in England! And it’s all about kids! Tell me I’m not going to get turned into a kid Fraser.
Fraser: Actually Ray the accepted method of transferring adults into the Harry Potter universe is to recruit them as teachers for the school.
Ray: I’m a cop!
Fraser: That really doesn’t matter Ray.
Ray: It doesn’t?
Fraser: No, you see by using their special powers the writers can allow us to inhabit an alternate universe and then create a plot device to summon us, as it were, to England and Hogwarts.
Ray: Oh.
(Pause)
Ray: Fraser how do you know all this stuff?
Fraser: I happen to be a seer Ray. I used my crystal ball to search for the answers to your questions.
Ray: Really.
Fraser: No, I’m just getting into the spirit of things.
Ray: …
Ray: Freak.
Fraser: Understood.

Author waves her magic wand (Softwood, 6 inches long, graphite cored) and transforms Constable Benton Fraser RCMP and Detective First Grade Ray Kowalski into Field Auror 2nd Class Benton Fraser of the Canadian Ministry of Magic, Department of Security and Protection (Otherwise known as Fraser) and Field Auror 2nd Class Stanley Raymond Kowalski of the American Ministry of Magic, Department of Security and Protection (Currently known as Ray Vecchio, generally spoken of as Ray).

Scene 1 – The very contrived and utterly implausible prologue.

Setting – The Canadian Field Base in Chicago. Benton Fraser is standing in his office/bedroom in his long johns. He has a letter in his hand and is looking very puzzled. A disgruntled owl circles the room and then flies out into the hallway. Ten seconds later Ray enters excitedly. He is also carrying a letter.

Ray: So you got one too? I saw the owl as I was coming in.
Fraser: Too? You mean you got one as well?
Ray: Yeah. Near as I can figure from what Welsh is saying and from what he says he’s not allowed to say Vecchio’s coming back and they want me out of the way for a while and where better than a whole other country. Plus everyone knows the morality rate at Hogwarts is like way over the top for a school and they’re having trouble recruiting staff and keeping the students safe. This way two birds get killed with one big rock, three if you count the whole international cooperation and diplomacy thing everyone’s so big on these days.
Fraser: Mortality rate.
Ray: What?
Fraser: Mortality rate not morality rate. A morality rate would imply that the teachers were committing crimes, which is actually also true but not, I think, what you were originally attempting to imply.
Ray: Right.
Fraser: Actually this reminds me of the situation Roger McAlister found himself in, back in ’88. You see he was the Head Teacher or rather the only teacher of the Rumamukluk School for impoverished….
Ray: Fraser. Focus. They want me to be a teacher. I could barely hack my FROGs. Didn’t even bother with the TOADs, just went straight into the Practical Skills Auror Training Program.
Fraser: And from your acceptance into that program at such a young age one could infer that you are in fact intelligent and capable, your abilities are simply those which are more suited to an applied environment. You’re not stupid by any means Ray.
Ray: Thanks Frase. I still can’t teach though.
Fraser: Well what do they have you teaching?
Ray: Muggle Studies.
Fraser: You are Muggle born Ray. Perhaps your superiors assume that you already have the necessary knowledge and that no further training is necessary to allow you to maintain a convincing façade.
Ray: See that’s what I hate Frase. That’s what I can’t stand. All these assumptions about me being Muggle born, like I’m some kind of expert. And what does it say about how much they value the subject that they’ll send in someone completely unqualified to teach it, like it doesn’t matter. It stinks Fraser. It really stinks.
Fraser: I concur Ray. Such stereotypes are what allow people like Voldemort to gain a foothold. However you will have help.
Ray: Don’t use his name! And what do you mean help? That what your letter says? They’re setting me up with a teaching assistant or something?
Fraser: In a manner of speaking.
Ray: In what manner of speaking?
Fraser: It appears that I am going to be your assistant Ray.
Ray: You? What about Vecchio? Aren’t you going back to partnering him?
Fraser: Apparently not. I would conclude that while he was undercover with the Iguana clan Ray managed to capture and thus earn the enmity of several powerful dark wizards and therefore while he is coming back to reclaim his own life it will be necessary for him to maintain a low profile.
Ray: And he can’t do that while chasing after a guy in red who attracts death, destruction and mayhem in wildly bizarre ways, gotcha.
Fraser: I wouldn’t put it quite like that Ray.
Ray: Oh yeah? Then how would you put it?
Fraser: …
Fraser: Alright that is how I would put.
Ray: So we’re off to England then?
Fraser: It would seem so yes.
Ray: Greatness. Hey do you think I should pack a rainmac, ‘cause I hear it’s really rainy in England?
Fraser: That may be advisable, yes.
Ray: How about a boat.
Fraser: Well that’s just plain silly Ray.

Fade to Black

Scene 2 – The section where the main characters are introduced and the actual plot begins.

Setting – Outside Hogwarts castle, Harry, Ron and Hermione are standing in a huddle. Other students pass them by, many of them looking at the group with suspicious…

(Author presses the fast forward button.)

Weedle … Weedle… Weedle … Skrp

Scene 18 – The emotional bit which, while moving, does absolutely nothing to advance the plot.

Setting – The Potions classroom. Fraser and Snape are standing in the centre of the classroom glaring at one another. A cauldron has been overturned and a potion is leaking onto the floor.

Snape: You have the nerve to ask me about my past. You come over here interfering, poking your nose in where it is neither wanted nor needed. You weren’t here the first time when Voldemort gained power. When we were in real trouble, with people dieing, whole families being slaughtered Muggle and Wizard alike, our North American allies didn’t want to get involved. And now you have the audacity to question my decisions, to pry into my past as if you have some sort of right to judge me…
Fraser: I merely thought it prudent to…
Snape: The Dark Lord was a threat to the whole world. You believe he would have settled for being the absolute ruler of Britain or Europe when there were others who would support him elsewhere.
Fraser: I understand.
Snape: You understand nothing! You weren’t here. You never faced the terror that we faced. That I faced…
Fraser: I’m here now. I want to help. And I’m not afraid.
Snape: You should be! Anyone sensible or sane should be.
Fraser: As long good people work together against evil then justice will be done and I will never be afraid.
Snape: You think you’re so pure, so righteous. What about Victoria Metcalf?
Fraser: You … you know about that?
Snape: Since her escape she’s been in contact with the Dark Lord. She couldn’t wait to tell everyone about the foolish Auror who’d risk everything to aid a dark witch.
Fraser: I did what I thought was right.
Snape: You slept with her.
Fraser: I loved her!
Snape: Fool! By that time she loved no one but herself. She’d escaped from Jarkbal.
Fraser: She said she’d served her time. I believed her.
Snape: She killed a man!
Fraser: I regret that…. I regret everything.
Snape: And you think that makes it better? You turned her in when she was young and scared and probably deserved to go free, would have gone free if anyone would give someone convicted of practising the Dark Arts a fair trial. Then you let her go when she was older, wiser and had sworn allegiance to the Dark Lord.
Fraser: I didn’t let her go. She ran. And I didn’t know…
Snape: She had the mark! She hadn’t got that in prison.
Fraser: I didn’t see…
Snape: She was in your bed!
Fraser: She wouldn’t have… the lights weren’t… her arms…
Snape: He Who Must Not Be Named has said there is a place for you among his followers. That the Death Eaters must offer you a chance to surrender and join their ranks before they kill you. You should feel honoured. Few other Aurors are given such an option.
Fraser: And how would you know what He says?
Snape: It is my job to know what the Dark Lord knows! To pass on what information I can. I too must atone for my mistakes.

Fade to Black

Weedle … Weedle… Weedle … Skrp

Scene 48 – The completely unnecessary and totally sappy epilogue.

Setting – An elaborate and well-decorated bedroom. Fraser and Ray are lying together on a massive four-poster bed, surrounded by pillows. They are both covered only by a thin sheet that is drawn up to their waists. They are both grinning identical smug grins.

Fraser: That was … most enjoyable Ray.
Ray: Only most enjoyable huh Fraser? I thought it was pretty fabulous myself. Maybe we should try it again just to be sure.
Fraser: I think that is an exceedingly good idea Ray. However I believe we need a little time to recuperate first.
Ray: Recuperate huh?
Fraser: Yes Ray.
Ray: You know you’re cute when you use big words.
Fraser: Really?
Ray: Actually you’re cute pretty much all the time.
Fraser: I find you exceptionally pleasing as well Ray.
(Pause, while Fraser and Ray continue to smile goofily)
Ray: It was pretty great how everything worked itself out there in the end.
Fraser: I must admit to feeling some satisfaction at such a neat conclusion.
Ray: There is one thing I still don’t get though.
Fraser: What’s that Ray?
Ray: Where was Harry Potter?

Fade to Black

Roll Credits

DS Fanfic

2006-03-31T17:46:51Z

Okay - here goes my first and so far only attempt at Fanfiction.

Sex And Love In One Act
It's Due South, Fraser/Ray K, NC-17 (I.E No Pants), No warnings (Except slash, of course!) Basically PWP, the title is the summary and I don't own any of this.

Right, lets see if I can get this LJ cut thing to work. *Rolls up sleeves.*

For reasons that definitely don’t need exploring at this juncture Ray Kowalski is sucking Benton Fraser’s cock. It’s thick and long and salty and it’s just perfect.

Ray’s not quite sure how they ended up here. He’s barely even thinking about his own cock, equally hard, trapped in his jeans. Every suck, every lick, every moan he wrings out of Fraser’s mouth makes him that little bit harder, makes the ache in his groin that little bit harder to ignore.

He rubs his tongue over the head and squeezes the base, then moves his hand to Fraser’s balls, takes Fraser in all the way to the root and swallows. Fraser makes his loudest moan yet and moves his hands from where they’ve been clenched at his sides to clutch at Ray’s hair and tries to drag him impossibly deeper and that’s hot too, that’s greatness in fact, to know that Fraser, Mr ‘Thank You kindly,’ has lost it enough to let go and just start fucking his face.

Fraser’s groaning constantly now and he tastes saltier than ever and Ray can feel his balls tightening in his hand and then Fraser’s grunting and coming and spilling right in Ray’s mouth.

And Ray swallows but there’s so much of it, (Does Fraser ever even jerk off?), it spills out of his mouth and dribbles down his chin.

Ray is drawn back into himself sharply and realises that he’s as hard as a rock, as hard as diamond (Is that a rock? Not the time, not the time.) And any sudden movements are likely to result in him coming in his freaking pants here so it’s a relief when Fraser hauls him up and starts licking the come off his chin at the same time as opening Ray’s jeans one handed (Thank God for Mountie multi-tasking) and wrapping his fingers around Ray’s dripping length. Great tongue, great hands, great fingers, they feel excellent all wrapped around him like that, as snug as a bug in a rug and Christ where does his brain go when he’s turned on?

Fraser pumps once, twice and that’s it, that’s all she wrote, Ray’s coming and coming, all over Fraser’s hand and hip before sagging against him and falling into a pleasant post-coital haze.

* * *

Constable Benton Fraser is leaning against the wall in his office, in full uniform, in broad daylight and he is receiving the finest blowjob he has ever had in his life. Ray Kowalski is on his knees before him, mouth over the top part of his penis, licking and sucking like there’s no tomorrow. And – goodness those noises can’t possibly be coming from him can they? He’d never dream of sounding quite so wanton – his hips are jerking forward, seeking more of the delicious sensation but Ray is riding out the motion quite ably.

Fraser curls his hands into fists; it would be the height of rudeness to grab Ray while he was doing …that. He might drown. And all the time the burning sensation is growing and just when he thinks it can’t get any better Ray moves his hand to his balls and moves his mouth down, right down.

Abruptly Fraser loses the fight with his hands and grabs Ray’s head. This feels exquisite, Ray’s mouth is warm and wet and he wants more of this and ‘Oh oh oh, oooooh,’ his spine is melting, his balls are re-entering his body and his member is jerking frantically, filling Ray’s mouth with his ejaculate

As he emerges from his stupor Fraser realises that Ray is still unsatisfied and that won’t do, that won’t do at all, so he hauls Ray to his feet. Rays lips are red and swollen and there is white liquid trickling down his chin, ‘my semen’ Fraser realises dimly, not quite understanding why that thought should seem so erotic. Moving automatically to lick it off, it’s only fair, it’s his mess after all, at the same time fumbling to undo Ray’s pants and feeling bare skin underneath, ‘no underwear,’ another incomprehensibly erotic thought and then he is finally, finally! grasping Ray’s penis. It’s hot and smooth in his hand and Fraser squeezes gently and strokes Ray twice and Ray grunts suddenly and Fraser’s right hand and hip are all wet and Ray’s weight is collapsing against him, pinning him to the wall.

* * *

Ray groans and lifts his head.

‘Gah, Frase, I got you all sticky, let me get something to wipe you with.’

He stares around the office, looking desperately for a cloth or anything but there’s only the sheets on the cot.

‘Jeez Fraser we didn’t even make it into bed.’

He moves to look in the drawers but Fraser grabs his arm and when Ray turns to look at him he’s got an odd expression on his face, like nothing Ray’s ever seen before and he comes out with:

‘Ray under the circumstances I believe that you should call me Ben.’

And Ray stares at Fraser for a few seconds before managing, ‘Yeah, Ben, greatness.’

And Fraser … Ben, is relaxing and looking happier than Ray’s ever seen him and that includes during the recent orgasm and that prompts Ray to add, ‘Just for the record … Ben,’ he savours the name, ‘I ought to add that I love you.’

And Ray means it, like he’s only ever meant it once before, to one other person and he’s fairly sure Ben feels it back, Ben wouldn’t have let it get this far if he didn’t feel something. But there’s still a moment of tension and then, if he thought Ben looked happy before, wow, it’s a good thing Ray’s never seen that smile before ‘cause otherwise he’d have ended up sucking Ben off in the damn Bullpen.

And Ben just goes, ‘And I love you Ray.’

And then everything’s greatness, times a million.

* * *

The first words out of Ray’s mouth are ‘Gah, Frase, I got you all sticky, let me get something to wipe you with,’ which Fraser supposes is typical, in many ways Ray is far more practical than he is, not constantly sprouting Inuit stories at what always seems to be an inconvenient time.

The next words, ‘Jeez Fraser we didn’t even make it into bed,’ jerk Fraser out of his thoughts and he automatically reaches out to grab Ray’s arm.

‘Don’t go, don’t ever leave me,’ is what he wants to say but what he comes out with is ‘Ray under the circumstances I believe that you should call me Ben,’ and he winces mentally, both at his needy tone of voice and in preparation for Ray’s negative reaction.

‘Please,’ he silently begs, ‘Please understand,’ and then Ray replies ‘Yeah, Ben, greatness.’ And he feels boneless with relief.

But Ray continues ‘Just for the record … Ben,’ and he likes hearing his name in Ray’s mouth, ‘I ought to add that I love you.’

And Fraser’s soaring, that’s more, that’s better than he ever dared hope and it’s all he can do to blurt out ‘And I love you Ray,’ so great is his joy, so complete is his happiness that he can barely think.

And he knows, deep in his heart that this is for good, this is forever, this is, as Ray would put it, ‘Greatness,’ possibly even times a million.

END