Fandom and Pairing: Due South. Fraser/RayK, Dief and Martha Fraser
Summary: Fraser's Grandmother comes for a visit and is appalled by Ray's use of profanity and Fraser makes Ray a swear jar.
AN: For bghost who's comment inspired this fic
Ray was sitting on his couch watching a hockey game with Fraser when it happened. He had said, 'Hell, yeah' then he saw the ceramic turtle on his coffee table float into the air.
'What the hell is that?'
'Oh, dear. It appears that my Grandmother has come for a visit and she is appealed by your use of profanity.'
'What the h...' the turtle floated over to Ray. '... heck? Isn't your Grandma died.' The turtle floated back to the table and sat itself back down.
Fraser pulled at his collar. 'She has been deceased for sixteen years, but I can see her.'
'You don't seemed too worried about that, Benton-Buddy. Is seeing ghosts a Canadian thing or something?'
'I don't believe it has anything to do with being Canadian, but this isn't the first time I've seen a ghost. Does that concern you?'
Ray thought about it. If it had been anyone else Ray would have thought he was on Candid Camera or something, but considering it was Fraser it didn't seem all that weird. 'It's cool. It explains a lot that's for sure. So, should I stop swearing or maybe I should just get a big old swear jar?' Ray almost grinned as he talked about the swear jar. Just the thought of an old jar full of coins made Ray almost laugh.
Fraser grinned. 'A swear jar sounds like a wonderful idea. I saw a used peanut butter jar in your kitchen that would be perfect.'
As Fraser got up and walked away Ray yelled, 'I was kidding about the swear jar!'
Ray reached into his pocket and pulled out some coins. He dropped them into his jar on his coffee table and watched as the coins fell. The jar was half-full with coins of all sorts, there was even a few dollar bills in there and it had only been a few weeks. Ray had considered just sticking a twenty in there and calling it good, but Fraser had said that defeated the purpose of the swear jar.
The swear jar might have started as a joke, but it seemed to make Fraser happy and Ray would do anything to make Fraser happy.
Ray sat down on his couch and sighed. He never realized how much he swore, but seeing that half-full jar really brought it home. He thought about easing up on his swearing when he heard a knock at his door.
Walking to his door and opening it he saw Fraser standing outside in the hallway. It took everything Ray had, and some he hadn't known he had had, not to stare. Fraser was dressed in his white sweater with the frayed collar and his tight blue jeans. The Stanton on his head should have looked ridiculous, but if anything it just turned Ray's crank; he had had fantasies about that hat, not that he would ever tell anyone about that.
'Good afternoon, Ray. I was wondering if you'd like to eat dinner with me?' Fraser held up a bag of take-out.
Ray ran his fingers through his hair. It had been a long day, but dinner with Fraser seemed like just the thing he needed. 'Sure.'
Ray and Fraser walked over to the couch and sat down. Dief jumped on Ray's lap and Ray rubbed his hands against Dief's soft fur.
Fraser looked down at Ray's swear jar. 'I see your anti-profanity jar is getting full. Does it seem like it's working?'
'Yeah, I guess. You're grandma still around?'
'Yes, she is. She had even built a library in my closet.'
He watched as his swear jar floated above his coffee table.
'What the heck? Greatness isn't a swear.'
'Oh, dear. It seems my Grandmother doesn't like your use of non-words such as greatness. Perhaps we should make a greatness jar.'
Ray looked at where he thought Grandma Fraser was and felt his eye twitch. 'Oh hell no! You can take my hells, you can even take my damns, but I'll be damned if she's going to take my greatness!'
As Ray yelled Dief hopped off his lap and hid under Ray's coffee table.
Ray looked over at Fraser and he looked stunned.
'I had no idea you were so passionate.'
Ray took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. 'Yep, that's me Mr. Passionate. Isn't there some other way?'
Fraser started talking to thin air. After several minutes Fraser spoke to Ray, 'My Grandmother thinks it would be germane if perhaps you spoke only truthful statements while not swearing.'
Ray was confused he didn't see how speaking the truth and swear went together, but if it got Grandma Fraser off his back he would do anything.
'Um... okay. My name is Stanley Raymond Kowalski, but everyone calls me Ray and I live in Chicago with my awesome turtle Spike. I have a Canadian partner who has a deaf half-wolf.' Ray took a deep breath, if he was going to tell truth he was going to tell the whole truth. 'A Canadian partner who I love.'
Ray closed his eyes and when he opened them he look right at Fraser. Ray had expected to look different somehow, and Fraser was. He was staring at Ray with wide eyes.
'You love me?'
'In a platonic way?'
'Yeah, but in a sexy way too.'
A wide, dopey grin spread across Fraser face and he leaned across the couch and kissed Ray's cheek. Ray breathed in Fraser pine tree scent and grabbed Fraser's shoulders letting his fingers move against soft worn wool.
'I guess you like me in a sexy way too, huh?' Ray asked.
'Very much so.'
This time Ray's swear jar and his turtle didn't move.
Martha Fraser looked at her sleeping grandson. He was in a large bed with Raymond. Both men were smiling in their sleep and that made Martha smile. She reached over and smoothed the hair on Benton's forehead. She could almost hear her mother's voice saying she was babying Benton, but she still indulged. It wasn't often that her grandson was happy.
She walked into Raymond's closet and sat down in her plush, red armchair. Shelves full of books were all around her and the smell of lilac (George had always liked lilac) was thick in the air. She thought about going to see George at his chicken farm or maybe visiting Tiberius at his cabbage fields, but for now she was just going to enjoy a quite moment.
Her plan had gone much better than even she could have hoped, she had only wanted to teach Raymond no to use such foul language and she had been pleased with the most expected outcome, but than her own dead Grandmother had helped her meet George and for that she would always be grateful.
Now, if only she could get Diefenbaker to stop swearing.