Curtains? Well. . .      Curtains? Well. . .

 by Doll

  

 

 Disclaimer: 

 Author's Notes: This was my response to the livejournal ds_flashfiction
Curtainfic Challenge, which was: "I'd love to see forty-odd tiny
curtainfic stories. Buying curtains, hanging curtains, climbing them,
pulling them down, getting them all dirty -- curtains of hair,
th-th-that's all folks curtains, iron curtain metaphors -- let's beat this
hoary old cliche into the ground, shall we? 

 Story Notes: 

 

 

 Ray slowly turned around in the aisle, a look of a man mightily wronged
firmly on his face. "So Frase," he said grimly, "what fresh hell is this?"


 Fraser quite visibly bit his tongue, let out a breath and said, "As I
have already told you-- four separate times, I might add-we are picking up
something for Mrs. Vecchio at the store." 

 Ray waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah, I got that already. But I thought you
meant something like, I don't know, special oregano or sausage or
something. Not," Ray paused to look skeptically at the aisles of Home
Depot, "not hardware." 

 "Well, technically Ray, since we will be buying curtains, I don't know if
that can be classified as hardware." 

 "Whoa, whoa!" Ray stopped dead and put his hands out on front of him,
warding off the specter of curtains. "Do you mean we're picking up some
curtains that Ma already ordered, or are we going to have to pick then out
ourselves?" 

 "Does it really make a difference, Ray?" 

 "Ah, jeez, Frase! Of course it does! If we're just picking them up, okay,
we're whipped, but that's okay 'cause Ma's old. But if we have to actually
pick them out. . ." Ray trailed off and raised an eyebrow significantly. 

 Fraser raised his own eyebrow and made a 'continue' gesture with his
hand. 

 Ray leaned in and lowered his voice. "If we have to pick them out? Two
guys, choosing curtains? It's kind of fruity there, Frase." 

 Fraser nodded. "Ah, I see. Well, prepare to embrace your inner woman,
Ray, because we will be choosing the curtains ourselves." 

 Ray covered his face with his hands. "Fraser, Fraser, Fraser. You see,
this right here is why I don't like you talking to people by yourself." He
dropped his hands and glared. "What else did you sign us up for, huh?
Interior decorating classes? Picking up Frannie's tampons? What?" 

 Fraser rolled his eyes. "For god's sake, Ray, we're buying curtains, not
a matching set of cock rings!" 

 Ray's mouth dropped open. He snapped it shut, and shot nervous looks at
the other customers, who were all quite studiously not looking at them. He
grabbed Frase by the arm and pulled him over into the next aisle. "Shit,
Frase, you do not say things like that in a family store!" He narrowed his
eyes. "Do you even know what those are?" 

 Fraser pulled his arm from Ray's grasp. "Of course I do! I am a member of
the RCMP, which is an acronym for 'Royal Canadian Mounted Police', in case
you've forgotten. Or do you somehow assume there's no vice in Canada?" 

 Ray snorted. "Oh, yeah, those penguin pimps, how could I forget them?" 

 "Actually, Ray, penguins are indigenous to the-" Fraser stopped himself.
"That's irrelevant at the moment. What is relevant: Toronto, Montreal,
Winnipeg, Vancouver, Edmonton, Banff, Regina. Large cities, Ray, with
their full complement of large city crime." 

 "But, but," Ray waved his arms about, "but when those chicks hit on you,
when Frannie's all oozing up against you, you don't know what they're
talking about!" 

 "Really, Ray, I'm not mentally deficient! I merely act oblivious to spare
them the pain of outright rejection. It's a form a chivalry." 

 Ray stared at Fraser intently, and then suddenly pointed two fingers at
him. "You! You're all Wizard of Oz-y!" 

 "I beg your pardon?" 

 "You know what I mean! 'Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!'
And yeah, I knew you did it with other people, but now, well, you're doing
it with me, too, Frase, and that just ain't buddies!" 

 Fraser began to nod slowly, and then stopped and shook his head. "I'm
sorry, Ray, but I really have no idea of what you're saying." 

 "You do, too! You show the world that flaming wizard head Mountie Mask,
but really you're the Professor behind the curtain pulling all the levers.
And the lever-pulling guy, I thought that was the real you, the you you
showed only me, but now, now I find out you're some cock ring-knowing
Mountie behind another curtain, and I don't even know you anymore. Jeez,
how do I know you're even my friend?" 

 Fraser sighed. "You know, Ray, perhaps you wouldn't worry so much about
appearing 'fruity' to complete strangers in Home Depot if you weren't such
the drama queen." 

 Once again, Ray was speechless, but then suddenly, mercurially, he began
to laugh. He canted out his hip, made the z-snap, and said, "Oh, do not go
there, girlfriend!" 

 After a shocked, startled moment, Fraser joined him, both of them
laughing so hard they stumbled into, and knocked over, the display for
Ralph Lauren Fire Fox Red paint.    

 ". . .and that, Sir, is how Ray and I came to be arrested for public
drunkenness and lewd behavior." Fraser frowned. "Although in actuality, we
were neither drunk nor lewd, so I feel confident that the charges will be
dropped." 

 Lieutenant Welsh just shook his head. "I was at home, watching the Cubs.
I had beer." He sighed sadly, shaking his head again, opening the door to
the holding cell. "Go forth, gentlemen, and sin no more." He watched with
a jaundiced eye as Ray and Fraser sidled out of the cell, not meeting his
eyes. "Your predictions were correct, Constable. You and the Boy Wonder
there are free to go." 

 Ray raised his head. "Lieu, I got to say-" 

 Welsh shook his head, and put his hand in front of Ray's face. "Talk to
the hand, boys. Talk to the hand." 

 Fraser and Ray sniggered, walking out of the jail in tandem, their
shoulders bumping every other step. Welsh watched them leave, and then
rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, they're not gay." He snorted, and went back
home to his ball game. 

End Curtains? Well. . . by Doll: space___monkey___@hotmail.com

Author and story notes above.