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Tell me again, why do I need one of these things?

dS fic: Three Men In The Snow.

dS fic: Three Men In The Snow.

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hugh house
Somehow, I wrote Ray/Ray death!fic, with added Bob. It was a spur of the moment thing and's only 500 words long. May I take the opportunity to explain at this juncture that Due South and its characters belong to Alliance Atlantis and I make not a penny? Thank you kindly.

This bears no relation to the Erich Kaestner novel of the same name.

Written long hand on prompt cards (aka Library index cards) fyi.

ETA: it's funny and probably complete and utter crack


THREE MEN IN THE SNOW

They’d always thought it would be the Mountie. They’d thought that it would be the Mountie, who would be the one to buy the farm, Caribou plantation, whatever the fuck they got in the Northwest Areas anyway.

So when the old guy in the funky furry hat told them that Fraser would be living on to a ripe-old age, up there in the snow, untouched by freak accidents involving a ton of herring and a genuine 1967 Gran Turismo Omologato for reasons that totally did not need exploring at this juncture and would consistently fail to die in wildly bizarre ways, they were astonished.

They were flabbergasted.

They were amazed.

They were really quite surprised.

They were wondering if they’d picked up Fraser’s dictionary-brain by osmosis.

It was Vecchio, as they stood there in the snow that failed to be cold and gazed out at the bright horizon of eternity, who recognised Mr Horrible Hat. No, he was Seargent Horrible Hat, actually. Vecchio said that he’d seen that face staring at him from the Dead Mountie File all too often, looking out accusingly as he’d tried to scam his way out of cases (and he muttered, if he hadn’t stopped doing that, he would still be alive and not talking to Benny’s old man in the flesh, or more to the point really not in the flesh at all) and at least it wasn’t his own fucking father.

He’d tailed off mumbling and muttering half-swallowed curses there, leaving Kowalski to ask The Question, “So yeah, you’re Benton’s dad, greatness, so what do we do now, besides kick ourselves in the head for falling for such a dumb rookie trick like that?”

“Well son, ahem sons, you wait.”

“Wait? Wait? Wait a fucking goddamn minute; you’re saying that we just wait here? What do we do? My partner here ain’t no good at waiting so why don’t you…”

The Mountie had seen Vecchio vent like this before, not knowing that he had another witness, and could chose the apposite moment, the moment when Vecchio was just winding down, taking a breather before another tirade, to carpe the diem, as Buck would say, and plunge in, “Personally, I suggest that you get to know each other better, there’s my old cabin over there, beyond the hills, I’m sure you boys could get her cosy in next to no time, and the bed’s hmmn extensive, not like that little thing that Benton sleeps on, more than enough room for two. Benton’s going to be some time coming, and it would so please him, the two of you getting on together. That boy,” he added disdainfully, “no sense of timing.”

And with that, the old Mountie faded away, leaving the two Detectives (First Class, Chicago PD, funeral on Tuesday, family flowers, donations to the police benevolent fund) standing there in the snow, staring at each other, trying desperately to find some obscure and innocent Canadian meaning in the words. Surely, they thought, Fraser’s old man couldn’t be thinking like that, surely he couldn’t know about that, that and how the unfreezing snow would mend broken hearts.
  • OK, my guts are still here. Well, I think I laughed them out at the beginning, but they are INTACT, which is the main really very surprising thing. *g*

    That boy,” he added disdainfully, “no sense of timing."

    You know, he really doesn't have one of those. *g*

    *twirls you*
    • Happy death!fic, who'd have thunk it?

      I admit, it was a bit silly at the beginning.

      Yes, Ben totally lacks a decent sense of timing. (It must really frustrate the Rays in bed)

      *is twirled*
  • Hee! *This* is what death!fic should be like! :-)

    Also, yay for the Ray/Ray-ness (Nope, NO idea when my brain decided to like that)
    • You mean a sort of crack-shmoop-slash hybrid?

      OMG! I wrote Ray/Ray, maybe my Sekrit Santa won't be as tough as I thought...

      (as opposed to Fraser/Ray/Ray, which I've done before now, in detail)

      I still lust over that icon of yours.
    • PS. This might be your cue to point me in the direction of you-know-where.
      • maybe my Sekrit Santa won't be as tough as I thought...

        *sobs* I have NO idea for mine. I have dS plotbunnies, but they're not RayK/Fraser (which is what my person wants)...

        I still lust over that icon of yours

        Heh, thanks :) It's by stormymouse (as so many icons are these days)

        PS *points forcefully*
      • You really have a thing for fics that go 'they're dead - yay!'

        I mean this in a good way. I really want to know how they died with a ton of herring. Sorry. I've just seen Supersize me & now I feel really hungry. I'm pretty sure that was not the intended effect
        • You're not the only one.

          I'm a hundred and ten percent sure that really isn't the intention.
      • Ah yes, went and talked to stormymouse.

        My only plot bunny so far was far far crackier than this, and in a really really bad way.
  • For a death fic this feels more like a comedy. I couldn't help but keep snickering. :P Great job! I did expect Vecchio to be a little more...I dunno...angrier.
    • I think all the bloody herring took it out of him a bit.

      Plus, it's kind of hard to stay angry while the other half of your brain is still dealing with the wtf of dying and ending up in the Canadian afterlife with your best friend's father...
  • (Anonymous)
    I love this! Good voices, cranky Vecchio, volatile Kowalski, pragmatic Bob. There should be a sequel, you know--Ray/Ray in the after-life, haunting Fraser.
  • Hehe! Best death fic EVER! Thank you for that!
    • Heh. Greatness. Scarily, I know what happens next.

      Oh, and I wrote a deathfic drabble this morning. It completely lacks any humour (except maybe something dark and unnameable).
  • Well, this is something completely different -- and delightful. Death!fic that made me smile instead of crying.
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