Disclaimer: I don't own, I just borrow.
Author's Notes: This was written for the first DS Lyric Wheel. (The lyrics appear at the end).
Story Notes: Warning: Rated R for language.
Spoilers: Mild ones for Say Amen.
REFLECTION
He's sitting there, on the couch, across from me, his hat in his hands, that damned red suit glowing like a stop light. Stopping traffic, stopping crime - stopping people from getting too close, even me. Especially me, I think - why else would he wear it so friggin' often when he's around me?
He's looking at me like the world's about to end. Like what he's saying to me is going to take all that's good and holy and just flush it all down the drain. Like love is a dirty word - he's gotta feel guilty, gotta feel ashamed for admitting he wants to feel good, feel happy. Feel needed. See, to me, that's not such a bad thing, but what do I know? I'm just a damaged flatfoot with funky hair. He's the pretty one.
God, is he pretty.
And for some insanely bizarre reason, he wants me. And he can't stand that he wants me, can't accept that after all he's done to keep up the appearance of strength and morality and etiquette and whatever the fuck else they drill into them in the RCMP, his body's turned around and said, 'No, screw you, I don't want morality, I want to nail the cop to the mattress'. And there's nothing he can do about it except sit there and feel guilty for wanting to bring me down with him. Looking out for my well-being, taking care of me whether I need it or not.
Trouble is, I do need it. Need it like air to a drowning man. Need him to be there with me, to share himself with me. To need me back. And he's got needs, too, and he can't name them, can't tell me, and so he just sits there looking miserable and killing his hat.
It started with those kids, I know it did. The Romeo and Juliet duo, all sappy and romantic and clinging to each other like there was nothing else in the world, like nothing else mattered, not parents, not society, not religion. They weren't thinking about repercussions, or consequences or any other thousand-dollar Fraserword - just a couple of young ones who desire each other, fearless of mistakes they might make. Only Fraser and me, we're not young anymore, and we sure as hell have made mistakes, and we've lived long enough to know that no matter how hard it seems for some star-crossed teenagers, it's nothing compared to how impossible it would be for a couple of cops, pushing forty, to admit to wanting, to longing, to needing.
The Mountie has a point, though. This thing between us, it's serious shit - a make or break kind of thing. And I can see where he's coming from; he's been screwed over by so many people, he doesn't think starting anything with me could be worth the pain when it ends. Which is why he's sitting there, beating me to the punch, giving me all the logical reasons why we can't have anything, do anything, make anything of these feelings we have. Telling me we have to face the facts, face the truth of our acceptance of each other for who we are and where we are and what the people around us would do if they knew, and them move on. And he's right.
But he's wrong, too, because it can't be cold and sterile, there can't be any logic here, it has to be feeling and desire and need, and that has to be enough, because I need him, and he needs ... what does he need?
"Fraser, what do you need?"
His fingers stop working his hat band, and he looks up at me, his eyes filled with misery, and confusion. "What do you mean?"
"You're telling me how our families, and our friends, and our jobs, and everyone else in the world all need us to be just buddies and partners and nothing else. But what about you, Fraser? What do you need?"
He thinks for a minute. "I need to be able to do my job, Ray, and know you're safe."
I shake my head. "Nah, Frase. That's what you want, what you'd like. What do you need?"
He closes his eyes, lowers his head, whispers so I can just barely hear him. "You, Ray. I need you more than anything else I've ever needed, and it overwhelms me sometimes. I feel like I'm drowning, and I need to breathe."
And I smile a little at that, because we've done the drowning thing, and we got past that, and we can get past this, too. And I think, maybe, Fraser is thinking the same thing, because he looks up again, and his eyes are a bit red but he doesn't look as sad as he did before, and he finally puts the hat down on the coffee table. And I feel a little better, because that's one less thing between us, and I reach over and take one of his empty hands in mine.
"I can help you with that, Fraser, save you from drowning. I owe you one, anyway."
He doesn't smile, but his hand tightens a bit on mine, pulls me a little toward him, and I'm all over that, I scoot over so I'm sitting right up next to him, in his face, our eyes meeting, our breaths mixing. "Just bloom and close," I tell him, and I'm going in, going for it, and just before my lips touch his he whispers, "What do you need, Ray?"
What do I need? That's the easiest question in the world.
"I need you to fight the current, Fraser," I whisper back, into his mouth. "Just bloom, and close, and kiss me, and there is nothing else I need."
FIN
White Reflection
by Two Mix
I feel your love reflection
A far away, never ending story is painted in your eyes
as you gaze back at me
The wings (courage) you gave me, I spread open in my heart; Their fluttering seems to shake off the sadness (despair) and pain (scars)
Aa, I want to feel the pain of the pulsing (shining) of irreplaceable love
I feel your love reflection
Pile up the dreams (ideals) thickly
Young ones who desire each other, fearless of
mistakes
I feel your love reflection
A far away, never ending story is painted in your eyes
as you gaze back at me
I want to softly communicate to your bare skin
the feelings that are spilling over
As if hugging close the strength (purity) to become
gentle
Aa I want to nobly, lithely, overcome this unstable age (these unstable days).
I feel your love reflection
The truth of our acceptance of each other
Kiss me, and there is nothing else I need!!
I feel your love reflection
Believe in the passion that will not give up
Our piercing through (fighting) "never ending story."
I feel your love reflection
pile up the dreams (ideals) thickly
Young ones who desire each other, fearless of mistakes
I feel your love reflection
A far away, never ending story is painted in your eyes
as you gaze back at me.