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Fic! remix fic!
So I'm posting this here, for the sake of having all my fic in one place. Should show up backdated? *crosses fingers*
O My America (the Scientific Method Remix)
by etben
Fraser/Kowalski, PG-13
Remix of: O My America, by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
laurakaye
Step 1: Observe some aspect of the universe.
Overheard in Ruth's Home Kitchen Restaurant, Beaver Creek, Yukon Territory, Canada.
Hello, Ruth's Home Kitchen—
Well, hello, Laurel! How have you—
Calm down, dear! [laughter]
Why, don't you know? That's Benton Fraser—yes, Bob Fraser's son—
Laurel Carter! I'm ashamed of you! What would your mother—
[laughter]
Well, and she probably would, at that. Still, though, you ought to show a little more respect. He's been in Chicago for two and a half years, now, and he deserves to come back to a civilized country.
He's been working with the police, dear! Well, of course you know that he went down to find his father's killers, but then he apparently just stayed. Ray says that—
Well, his partner, dear! Detective Ray Kowalski, of the Chicago Police Department, in fact.
Yes, the blond one.
Oh, I don't know. I rather like it—if you'd talked to him, you'd have seen how it suits him.
Well, you saw it—oh, I know you did, I saw your curtains move!—and it's very energetic, isn't it? Like him, I'd wager...
Laurel! I'm just teasing! Oh, very well, then.
Well, he's very charming. Very American, of course, but then I don't suppose he can help that. He and Benton seem to get along quite well, though—although, really! You would simply not believe some of the stories they told me.
Yes, yes, of course, dear! Come over after I close—I'll make us a pot of tea and tell you everything.
They're up here looking for the hand of Franklin, if you can believe it.
Ray said something about a great adventure, although with the lives they lead, I'm sure I don't know what they want with more adventure.
True.
Oh, Laurel! You shouldn't!
[laughter]
Very well, dear. I'll see you at eight-thirty, then?
All right, then.
Take care, dear.
Step 2: Invent a tentative description, called a hypothesis, that is consistent with what you have observed.
Letter from Joshua Keller to May Keller, his wife:
August 23rd
Dear May,
Just made Beaver Creek this afternoon. Weather's lousy, again, so I may stick here for a few days. We'll hope that this makes it to you before I do; I'll send it in the morning, if I can. If not...well, if not, I'm sitting on the couch right now, and what are you doing reading a letter when you could be sitting with me?
I wish I were sitting with you right now, but Beaver Creek's not such a bad place to be stuck, if the storm does hit tonight. I'm warm and dry and clean, which makes a nice change. Better than last winter, at any rate, which reminds me—have you
Don't remember what I was about to write, there; we'll hope it wasn't important. I left off writing because there was a hell of a racket next door: dog barking, furniture crashing, the alarm clock going, shouting, the works. I went over, asked them to keep it down—I thought it was a fight, you know? Bear Creek's just about far enough out for people to start getting sick of each other, if you're heading out. Remember Laurel and Matthew? They split in Bear Creek, and now he's down in Utah, selling furniture.
Anyway, I figured it was some sort of fight, domestic dispute or what have you, so I went next door and knocked, just to make sure nobody was bleeding; said that I was leaving early and would they mind keeping the noise down. The fellow who answered seemed normal enough, although they do say that you never know. Mostly, though, he looked terribly embarrassed. God, May, you wouldn't believe how he blushed! He wasn't alone in the room, either, and before you ask, no, I didn't say anything, or look any more than I should have. Still, I couldn't help notice that his friend was cleaning up the mess they'd made of the night-table, and she laughed fit to burst when he said that he'd tripped and knocked the table over. Pretty girl, from what I could see—short hair, but that's the fashion, these days. I don't doubt that he did trip and fall, but I do wonder what he was doing when he tripped!
Still, I shouldn't make fun. Better that than actually fighting, after all. We did plenty of both, you and I, a few years back, except that it was your aunt Edith banging on the wall to quiet us down, and we had three dogs in with us. I guess Bear Creek's far enough out for other things than fighting. God, I'm glad those days are over.
Wasn't lying when I told them that I needed to make an early start, though, so I'll stop now. Hope to see you in a few days—I need to go out to the Davis' place, and then I want to check in with Roger, make sure he's got enough to last him another month or so. I met his wife in town, but she's going to burst any day, now, and with his leg the way it is, he can't get out to hunt often enough.
Love you always,
Josh
PS: Aug 24th. Just about to head out, but I thought I'd add—I saw my friend from last night at Ruth's, this morning. He was sitting with a fellow, though, but the hair was right; guess it wasn't a girl, after all. It takes all kinds, I know— gave me a bit of a shock, though, when I saw him. He just smiled when I wished them well on their trip, though (his friend was blushing, again). Love you,
Josh
Step 3: Use the hypothesis to make predictions
They've left me in the Barn, which is just the outside of enough. Ray-Ray-Ray did it—he said sorryDief and notyourfault and some other words that weren't important, but his smell was saying "Go AWAY!" and he locked the door behind him. Which, really, seems unfair. It's not like they're going to do anything I haven't seen before—or anything I haven't done before, either. I know what they do, when they're together: they eat pizza and they watch the box and they sniff each other, and sometimes they talk, but I never listen. It's never important.
And anyway, it's not like there's a box in the cabin, and probably no pizza, either (I checked), so what are they going to do? They're just going to sit around and sniff each other, and I don't see why I should be left out of that. I am, after all, the champion sniffer-of-things around here, even if Benton sometimes likes to pretend otherwise. I indulge him, because he's a good human, for the most part, but that's no reason not to get the facts straight.
I like sniffing them, too. Benton's got a good smell, all rough and friendly and warm, like rolling in something stinky, or chasing rabbits. His smell's a lot more fun than he is, sometimes. Ray-Ray-Ray smells like yellow, and like loud things, and like turtle, especially his fur. His fur is the best part of him, for smelling. It's where the smell is strongest, and it looks like those things—you know those things? you sniff them and they curl up in little balls, like yarn only more painful. Ray-Ray-Ray's hair looks like one of those, and it smells exciting.
Benton says I shouldn't smell his hair, though, or lick his ears.
You know, I bet he's doing it right now! I bet that's what they've been doing—I bet they're in there right now, sniffing each other, and I bet Benton's licking Ray-Ray-Ray's ears, all without me! Which is not fair, so I start to bark, and bark, and bark.
Finally, Benton comes back to get me, and we go back to the house, and sure enough! they've been licking each other, and sniffing, and doing other things like that. Well, fine: who cares if they lick each other? I'm going to sit in front of the fire.
And now they're poking the stew, which is just ridiculous—the stew's dead, and even when you poke things, they don't ever move, and you usually have to go take a bath.
Which is never fun.
Then they look over at me, and so I ask Benton, Have you been sniffing Ray-Ray-Ray's hair? Not because I care, you understand (I don't care! Who cares if they sniff each other all day long? Not Diefenbaker!), but because I deserve to be kept up to speed on this sort of thing.
Benton goes all-over red (which is different from mostly-red, which is everyday) and then he makes some noises (which I don't listen to), but his smell is saying stop no go away I'm not here.
Fine, Benton. Whatever you want. As long as you don't burn my stew, I don't mind.
Step 4: Test those predictions by experiments or further observations and modify the hypothesis in the light of your results.
Twelve Experiments Conducted in the Frozen Northlands, by S. Ray Kowalski:
1) Ray puts an arm around Fraser's shoulder. Fraser goes tense, but scoots over. CONCLUSION: Ray's a nutjob, but it's cold out, so Fraser doesn't mind.
2) Ray slips and calls Fraser 'Ben'. Ben tells him not to worry, and rubs his hands through Ray's hair until they fall asleep. They wake up curled together, but Fraser scoots away in a hurry. CONCLUSION: Ben loves him, but like a brother. Ray's still a nutjob, but he's a nutjob with at least one really great friend, which isn't so bad.
3) Ray is shivering in his sleeping bag, trying to work his feet up inside his body and thaw them out. Ben zips their sleeping bags together and leans back into Ray's cold nose. CONCLUSION: Ben's cold, too, even with the subcutaneous fat, and Ray? is still a nutjob. And a horny nutjob, at that.
4) During the night, Ray clings to Ben like a toddler to a teddy bear, wakes up to the feeling of Ben's eyelashes against his shoulder. Ben looks at him with a small smile, and hugs him even harder when Ray kisses him. CONCLUSION: Ray is maybe not so much of a nutjob after all?
5) At the diner, Ben tells a stupid story, the one about the case with all the spies. Ray spends half of the time watching his hands, and the other half watching his mouth. He almost spills his soup twice. CONCLUSION: Ray is definitely a nutjob and should not be let out in public.
6) Ray kisses Ben, and Ben kisses him back, pressing him towards the bed. They land on Dief, and Ray knocks over the table. The alarm starts blaring, and the guy next door bangs on the wall. CONCLUSION: Nutjobs, both of them. Hand-holding, crazy-in-love nutjobs.
7) Ben stretches, and Ray wants him. Ben reads, and Ray wants him. Ben sleeps, and Ray wants him. Ben brushes his teeth, and Ray wants him. Ben talks to Ruth, and stares at Ray, and Ray wants him. CONCLUSION: If these two nutjobs don't find someplace private sometime soon, Ray will not be responsible for the consequences.
8) Ben has a cabin. A cabin with plumbing, heat, and nobody within two kilometers. CONCLUSION: Ray can't fucking wait. Also, he may never call Ben a nutjob again, although he's not making any promises.
9) Ben takes off all of Ray's clothes, gently and slowly, like he's been waiting his whole life for the chance, and he's going to savor it, make it last. He lays Ray down in front of the fire and gives him a head-rub, and then a backrub that makes Ray's knees weak, makes his skin tingle. He touches Ray's skin like he's been starving for it, like this is his idea of a ten-course dinner. He sucks Ray's cock slow and sweet, like this is something Ray's doing for him, instead of something that he's doing to drive Ray insane. Ray makes him stop, flips him over and pins him down. CONCLUSION: Ray is the biggest nutjob ever to job a nut.
10) Ray kisses Ben's forehead, his nose, his lips, his lips, his lips, kisses him like dancing and driving and falling and sex, all together in one, kisses him fast and dirty and slow and sweet, kisses him until Ben grunts and twists and sucks in air through his nose and comes, just a second after Ray does. Ben makes a smartass comment about housekeeping, and pulls the blanket over them. CONCLUSION: Ben's a nutjob, but Ray is in no way complaining.
11) Ben watches him. Watches him while he goes to cook the stew, then comes back, Dief in tow, then strips down to his skivvies and watches him some more. When he comes up behind Ray, squeezes him close, rests his head on Ray's shoulder, Ray just lets him, leaning back in to warm and safe and mine-mine-mine-yes. They kiss, then; kiss and kiss and kiss until their mouths are slick and wet and shining with want. They ignore Dief, and the stew, and the whole damn world, and get to know each others bodies, sweat and heat and Ben, Ben, oh!. CONCLUSION: Nutjobs have all the fun.
12) Afterwards, they eat. The stew's pretty good, even scorched. Ray washes, Ben dries, and they fall asleep in front of the fire, the dark murmur of Ben's voice speaking French in his ear. CONCLUSION: They're nutjobs, but they're nutjobs together, and there's no better way to be.
Step 5: Repeat steps 3 and 4 until there are no discrepancies between theory and experiment and/or observation.
And they lived happily (if strangely) ever after.
O My America (the Scientific Method Remix)
by etben
Fraser/Kowalski, PG-13
Remix of: O My America, by
laurakayeStep 1: Observe some aspect of the universe.
Overheard in Ruth's Home Kitchen Restaurant, Beaver Creek, Yukon Territory, Canada.
Hello, Ruth's Home Kitchen—
Well, hello, Laurel! How have you—
Calm down, dear! [laughter]
Why, don't you know? That's Benton Fraser—yes, Bob Fraser's son—
Laurel Carter! I'm ashamed of you! What would your mother—
[laughter]
Well, and she probably would, at that. Still, though, you ought to show a little more respect. He's been in Chicago for two and a half years, now, and he deserves to come back to a civilized country.
He's been working with the police, dear! Well, of course you know that he went down to find his father's killers, but then he apparently just stayed. Ray says that—
Well, his partner, dear! Detective Ray Kowalski, of the Chicago Police Department, in fact.
Yes, the blond one.
Oh, I don't know. I rather like it—if you'd talked to him, you'd have seen how it suits him.
Well, you saw it—oh, I know you did, I saw your curtains move!—and it's very energetic, isn't it? Like him, I'd wager...
Laurel! I'm just teasing! Oh, very well, then.
Well, he's very charming. Very American, of course, but then I don't suppose he can help that. He and Benton seem to get along quite well, though—although, really! You would simply not believe some of the stories they told me.
Yes, yes, of course, dear! Come over after I close—I'll make us a pot of tea and tell you everything.
They're up here looking for the hand of Franklin, if you can believe it.
Ray said something about a great adventure, although with the lives they lead, I'm sure I don't know what they want with more adventure.
True.
Oh, Laurel! You shouldn't!
[laughter]
Very well, dear. I'll see you at eight-thirty, then?
All right, then.
Take care, dear.
Step 2: Invent a tentative description, called a hypothesis, that is consistent with what you have observed.
Letter from Joshua Keller to May Keller, his wife:
August 23rd
Dear May,
Just made Beaver Creek this afternoon. Weather's lousy, again, so I may stick here for a few days. We'll hope that this makes it to you before I do; I'll send it in the morning, if I can. If not...well, if not, I'm sitting on the couch right now, and what are you doing reading a letter when you could be sitting with me?
I wish I were sitting with you right now, but Beaver Creek's not such a bad place to be stuck, if the storm does hit tonight. I'm warm and dry and clean, which makes a nice change. Better than last winter, at any rate, which reminds me—have you
Don't remember what I was about to write, there; we'll hope it wasn't important. I left off writing because there was a hell of a racket next door: dog barking, furniture crashing, the alarm clock going, shouting, the works. I went over, asked them to keep it down—I thought it was a fight, you know? Bear Creek's just about far enough out for people to start getting sick of each other, if you're heading out. Remember Laurel and Matthew? They split in Bear Creek, and now he's down in Utah, selling furniture.
Anyway, I figured it was some sort of fight, domestic dispute or what have you, so I went next door and knocked, just to make sure nobody was bleeding; said that I was leaving early and would they mind keeping the noise down. The fellow who answered seemed normal enough, although they do say that you never know. Mostly, though, he looked terribly embarrassed. God, May, you wouldn't believe how he blushed! He wasn't alone in the room, either, and before you ask, no, I didn't say anything, or look any more than I should have. Still, I couldn't help notice that his friend was cleaning up the mess they'd made of the night-table, and she laughed fit to burst when he said that he'd tripped and knocked the table over. Pretty girl, from what I could see—short hair, but that's the fashion, these days. I don't doubt that he did trip and fall, but I do wonder what he was doing when he tripped!
Still, I shouldn't make fun. Better that than actually fighting, after all. We did plenty of both, you and I, a few years back, except that it was your aunt Edith banging on the wall to quiet us down, and we had three dogs in with us. I guess Bear Creek's far enough out for other things than fighting. God, I'm glad those days are over.
Wasn't lying when I told them that I needed to make an early start, though, so I'll stop now. Hope to see you in a few days—I need to go out to the Davis' place, and then I want to check in with Roger, make sure he's got enough to last him another month or so. I met his wife in town, but she's going to burst any day, now, and with his leg the way it is, he can't get out to hunt often enough.
Love you always,
Josh
PS: Aug 24th. Just about to head out, but I thought I'd add—I saw my friend from last night at Ruth's, this morning. He was sitting with a fellow, though, but the hair was right; guess it wasn't a girl, after all. It takes all kinds, I know— gave me a bit of a shock, though, when I saw him. He just smiled when I wished them well on their trip, though (his friend was blushing, again). Love you,
Josh
Step 3: Use the hypothesis to make predictions
They've left me in the Barn, which is just the outside of enough. Ray-Ray-Ray did it—he said sorryDief and notyourfault and some other words that weren't important, but his smell was saying "Go AWAY!" and he locked the door behind him. Which, really, seems unfair. It's not like they're going to do anything I haven't seen before—or anything I haven't done before, either. I know what they do, when they're together: they eat pizza and they watch the box and they sniff each other, and sometimes they talk, but I never listen. It's never important.
And anyway, it's not like there's a box in the cabin, and probably no pizza, either (I checked), so what are they going to do? They're just going to sit around and sniff each other, and I don't see why I should be left out of that. I am, after all, the champion sniffer-of-things around here, even if Benton sometimes likes to pretend otherwise. I indulge him, because he's a good human, for the most part, but that's no reason not to get the facts straight.
I like sniffing them, too. Benton's got a good smell, all rough and friendly and warm, like rolling in something stinky, or chasing rabbits. His smell's a lot more fun than he is, sometimes. Ray-Ray-Ray smells like yellow, and like loud things, and like turtle, especially his fur. His fur is the best part of him, for smelling. It's where the smell is strongest, and it looks like those things—you know those things? you sniff them and they curl up in little balls, like yarn only more painful. Ray-Ray-Ray's hair looks like one of those, and it smells exciting.
Benton says I shouldn't smell his hair, though, or lick his ears.
You know, I bet he's doing it right now! I bet that's what they've been doing—I bet they're in there right now, sniffing each other, and I bet Benton's licking Ray-Ray-Ray's ears, all without me! Which is not fair, so I start to bark, and bark, and bark.
Finally, Benton comes back to get me, and we go back to the house, and sure enough! they've been licking each other, and sniffing, and doing other things like that. Well, fine: who cares if they lick each other? I'm going to sit in front of the fire.
And now they're poking the stew, which is just ridiculous—the stew's dead, and even when you poke things, they don't ever move, and you usually have to go take a bath.
Which is never fun.
Then they look over at me, and so I ask Benton, Have you been sniffing Ray-Ray-Ray's hair? Not because I care, you understand (I don't care! Who cares if they sniff each other all day long? Not Diefenbaker!), but because I deserve to be kept up to speed on this sort of thing.
Benton goes all-over red (which is different from mostly-red, which is everyday) and then he makes some noises (which I don't listen to), but his smell is saying stop no go away I'm not here.
Fine, Benton. Whatever you want. As long as you don't burn my stew, I don't mind.
Step 4: Test those predictions by experiments or further observations and modify the hypothesis in the light of your results.
Twelve Experiments Conducted in the Frozen Northlands, by S. Ray Kowalski:
1) Ray puts an arm around Fraser's shoulder. Fraser goes tense, but scoots over. CONCLUSION: Ray's a nutjob, but it's cold out, so Fraser doesn't mind.
2) Ray slips and calls Fraser 'Ben'. Ben tells him not to worry, and rubs his hands through Ray's hair until they fall asleep. They wake up curled together, but Fraser scoots away in a hurry. CONCLUSION: Ben loves him, but like a brother. Ray's still a nutjob, but he's a nutjob with at least one really great friend, which isn't so bad.
3) Ray is shivering in his sleeping bag, trying to work his feet up inside his body and thaw them out. Ben zips their sleeping bags together and leans back into Ray's cold nose. CONCLUSION: Ben's cold, too, even with the subcutaneous fat, and Ray? is still a nutjob. And a horny nutjob, at that.
4) During the night, Ray clings to Ben like a toddler to a teddy bear, wakes up to the feeling of Ben's eyelashes against his shoulder. Ben looks at him with a small smile, and hugs him even harder when Ray kisses him. CONCLUSION: Ray is maybe not so much of a nutjob after all?
5) At the diner, Ben tells a stupid story, the one about the case with all the spies. Ray spends half of the time watching his hands, and the other half watching his mouth. He almost spills his soup twice. CONCLUSION: Ray is definitely a nutjob and should not be let out in public.
6) Ray kisses Ben, and Ben kisses him back, pressing him towards the bed. They land on Dief, and Ray knocks over the table. The alarm starts blaring, and the guy next door bangs on the wall. CONCLUSION: Nutjobs, both of them. Hand-holding, crazy-in-love nutjobs.
7) Ben stretches, and Ray wants him. Ben reads, and Ray wants him. Ben sleeps, and Ray wants him. Ben brushes his teeth, and Ray wants him. Ben talks to Ruth, and stares at Ray, and Ray wants him. CONCLUSION: If these two nutjobs don't find someplace private sometime soon, Ray will not be responsible for the consequences.
8) Ben has a cabin. A cabin with plumbing, heat, and nobody within two kilometers. CONCLUSION: Ray can't fucking wait. Also, he may never call Ben a nutjob again, although he's not making any promises.
9) Ben takes off all of Ray's clothes, gently and slowly, like he's been waiting his whole life for the chance, and he's going to savor it, make it last. He lays Ray down in front of the fire and gives him a head-rub, and then a backrub that makes Ray's knees weak, makes his skin tingle. He touches Ray's skin like he's been starving for it, like this is his idea of a ten-course dinner. He sucks Ray's cock slow and sweet, like this is something Ray's doing for him, instead of something that he's doing to drive Ray insane. Ray makes him stop, flips him over and pins him down. CONCLUSION: Ray is the biggest nutjob ever to job a nut.
10) Ray kisses Ben's forehead, his nose, his lips, his lips, his lips, kisses him like dancing and driving and falling and sex, all together in one, kisses him fast and dirty and slow and sweet, kisses him until Ben grunts and twists and sucks in air through his nose and comes, just a second after Ray does. Ben makes a smartass comment about housekeeping, and pulls the blanket over them. CONCLUSION: Ben's a nutjob, but Ray is in no way complaining.
11) Ben watches him. Watches him while he goes to cook the stew, then comes back, Dief in tow, then strips down to his skivvies and watches him some more. When he comes up behind Ray, squeezes him close, rests his head on Ray's shoulder, Ray just lets him, leaning back in to warm and safe and mine-mine-mine-yes. They kiss, then; kiss and kiss and kiss until their mouths are slick and wet and shining with want. They ignore Dief, and the stew, and the whole damn world, and get to know each others bodies, sweat and heat and Ben, Ben, oh!. CONCLUSION: Nutjobs have all the fun.
12) Afterwards, they eat. The stew's pretty good, even scorched. Ray washes, Ben dries, and they fall asleep in front of the fire, the dark murmur of Ben's voice speaking French in his ear. CONCLUSION: They're nutjobs, but they're nutjobs together, and there's no better way to be.
Step 5: Repeat steps 3 and 4 until there are no discrepancies between theory and experiment and/or observation.
And they lived happily (if strangely) ever after.