Gifts for primrose
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Fraser was sure he was asleep and dreaming. Nothing else could explain why Ray was dancing in the living room at three in the morning, the shuffle-step-slide-slide-shuffle of Ray's feet loud enough to be heard over the music quietly playing in the background.
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Somebody snickered, and Ray glared around the room. The only other person in sight was the cashier and he was busy doing something with a big stack of magazines.
- Words:
- 1,433
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 2
- Hits:
- 164
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Ray's got three and a half hours left in his shift. He's going a little stir-crazy.
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- 4,828
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Hits:
- 196
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After her death, Caroline waits.
- Words:
- 1,637
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 109
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It was a strange dream, that was all. Meg hadn't had a sense of existing in the dream, until the very end. She'd thought she was an invisible observer. And then Fraser had seemed to look right at her for a heart-stopping second, and he'd started to say her name—
Well. Of course he had. It was her dream.
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Ray can't believe it when his romantic fortunes take a turn for the better. He'd like to believe it, but, really, he can't.
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for primroseburrows, who gave me Gordon Lightfoot's "I'm Not Supposed to Care" as a prompt. I interpreted it in a fashion that surprised me. It's a mystical AU, with Fraser as a sin eater (as I have fashioned, not based on the historical practices), and it's quite angsty and sad.
- Words:
- 585
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 129
