"Yukon Morning"

Pairings: It's Serge, guess. :-)
Ratings: G-rated m/m
Spoilers: None, unless you scream at the sight of unadulterated sap. I was happy this morning. Suffer.
Disclaimer: Alliance owns dueSouth and its characters. This is fanfic. No profit, no problem, eh?
Summary: Even a perfectly average morning can have its own kind of magic.
Feedback: Yes! All kinds except flames welcome.
Comments to SandSteinr@aol.com

"Yukon Morning" by Sandy Steiner


Ray stood quietly, listening to the forest wake up around him. The forest floor was thick with fallen pine needles, muffling the sounds of Fraser and the dogs moving about the camp. The trees weren't giant redwoods, just regular pine trees, but the once-and-future detective could feel the same sort of 'cathedral' presence that the National Geographic specials had always talked about. He looked upward.

As morning skies went, it wasn't all that spectacular. The high overcast had turned the sky the color of blue steel, rapidly fading into pale creams and grays as the sun rose in the east. Just an average, run-of-the-mill Yukon sunrise. Seen through the dark columns of the pine forest, it was still one of the most beautiful things Ray had ever seen.

He had to say it. "This place is so beautiful. I don't want to go home."

Fraser looked up from the bedroll he was securing to a pack and met Ray's eyes. His mouth curved in a small smile. "I am home."

Ray returned an answering smile at the pleasure in Fraser's soft words. "Yeah, y'are." He looked around himself again. This was Fraser's home. He belonged here, even Ray could see that. The uptight, upright Mountie Ray had first met in Chicago had gradually melted away up here, leaving behind a person Ray had only glimpsed before, but felt like he'd always known. Benton Fraser.

Ray was almost sorry their quest would be coming to an end. When the summer had passed and the ice-roads opened, Ray Kowalski would be headed back to Chicago, busting drug-dealers and murderers for his daily bread in a city that seemed smellier and meaner the longer he was away from it.

Looking around at the watery light filtering through the trees, Ray suddenly didn't want to leave their campsite. He wanted to stop time altogether. In this place, it should be easy, shouldn't it? He and Fraser would just stay here, and nobody would ever have to go home, and nobody would ever have to lose their best friend.

There was a step at his side. Fraser, standing close.

"You could make it your home, too."

Ray swung his head around. Fraser's eyes were just exactly the same color as the western sky behind him. Time did stop, in a way, for the two of them. Things they'd never spoken of passed between them now, wordlessly. Things that Chicago had kept them from feeling, or at least acknowledging.

"Yeah," he husked. "I think I'd like that." If you'll have me, he didn't say.

"I'd like it too," Fraser said, and his smile said more.

Behind Ray, the sun finally pierced through the high haze, sending shafts of golden light through the trees. For an instant, Fraser's eyes shone blue, bluer than anything, and that blew the morning, and the sky, and the trees -- and the pine needles -- just clean out of the water.

Ray didn't touch him. It wasn't time yet. Soon, though. Fraser shook himself, and he blinked, and his eyes were just normal Fraser-colored eyes. He squinted into the sun, assessing the weather.

"It looks like the sun is going to burn off the rest of this cloud cover. It's going to be a grand day, Ray." He moved off, back to stowing things in his pack.

A grand day. Yeah, it was.


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June 25, 2000