Completed November 29, 1998
Posted to Due South Archive February 17, 1999

This story was written in answer to a challenge on the DIEF mailing list to write a story of 500 words containing the following items:

Two Due South characters
Ice
Packing peanuts
Something sticky
A feather duster

DISCLAIMER: Benton Fraser and Ray Vecchio belong to Alliance Television and Paul Haggis. They are being used without permission, and without profit. No infringement on the rights of the owners is intended.

NOTES: This story takes place soon after the events of the episode "The Blue Line."

RATED PG

"Hockey Night in Chicago"
by Dorothy Marley
demarley@yahoo.com

Ray sat in the stands beside the little rink, watching Fraser and Smithbauer glide across the ice. It was clear, even to his inexperienced eye, that Fraser was hopelessly outclassed, but he was still holding his own out there. At least, he was until a well-timed swerve from Smithbauer dumped him neatly on his butt.

Beside Ray, Diefenbaker sat up, and made an inquiring noise in his throat, but a cheerful hail and wave from Fraser settled him down again. "I'm with you," Ray told the wolf. "Any sport played on ice is asking for it." Which is why Ray was sitting in the stands, freezing his buns off and slowly congealing to the soda puddle on the floor instead of being down there getting his ass kicked by a couple of insane Canadians.

Still, Fraser seemed to be enjoying himself, scrambling gamely to his feet and chasing after Mark's fleeing form with all the speed he could muster. Mark scored without any interference, and turned to wait for Fraser, grinning broadly. Fraser skated in beside him, and the two men glided in smooth tandem back up the ice, Smithbauer's head bent close to Fraser's ear, saying something that made the other man laugh.

Ray hadn't heard Fraser laugh much lately. And for about a second, Ray was so intensely jealous of Mark Smithbauer that it made his chest ache. Then Fraser laughed again, and Ray felt the sick tightness ease. Who cared? So long as Benny laughed, who cared who made him do it, or why?

He did.

It took Ray nearly a week to find what he needed, and the damn box weighed a ton by the time he got it to Fraser's door. Fraser was cleaning when Ray came in, carefully whisking a feather duster over the books on his shelf. The duster, Ray couldn't help but notice, looked a little ragged, and the stray feathers around Dief's snout showed that the wolf had, apparently, been trying to be helpful in the matter of enticingly wielded cleaning equipment.

"Ray!" Fraser put the duster down, coming to help Ray with the door, and staggered back a pace as Ray thrust the box into his arms.

"Here," Ray said bluntly. "This is for you."

Fraser blinked at him, puzzled. "For me? What's the occasion?"

"None." Ray went to the kitchen table and sat. "Just open it, all right?"

"All right." Fraser put the box on the table, and whipped out his knife to cut through the packing tape. He opened the box, and reached in, the puzzlement on his face only growing as he lifted the contents out in a gentle cascade of packing peanuts. "Skates?" he said. "Ray, this is very thoughtful of you, but I already have--"

"The skates aren't for you. They're for me."

Now Benny was thoroughly confused. "But you said--"

"Yeah." Ray reached out, and took the skates from him. "The skates are for me, but you're going to teach me how to use them."

For a second, Fraser just stared. "Ray, you hate skating. You called it the stupidest thing any human being could do with a thousand gallons of water."

"I know, but you like it, and who're you going to skate with once Mark goes back to Canada?" Ray shrugged. "I'm just giving in to the inevitable."

Fraser looked down at the skates, then back up at Ray's face. "Thanks, Ray," he said quietly, then smiled. A real smile.

"My pleasure, Benny."

THE END

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E-mail: demarley@yahoo.com
Dorothy's Fiction Page: http://www.nashville.com/~dorothy/marley.htm