Fic: Cinis
Fandom: Due South
Character: Ray Vecchio
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
Words: 229
Notes: Stand-alone, takes place in Vegas just before COTW. Belongs to this story arc.

February 25, 1998

Two lines of ash crossed his forehead. The priest spoke; he barely heard it, but the words were as old as his memory.

Who was he wearing this for, anyway?

Oh, right. The Bookman wore it every year without fail. It was a sick little fact. You had to repent for your sins, right? It made sense. A guy like that. The guy it was his job to be. If you were gonna repent anyway - if you were gonna go for it once a year and square every fucked up thing you ever did with God just to start all over again - you might as well make that year big.

Thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return. Was anyone going to notice the difference between the dust of Ray Vecchio and the dust of Armando Langoustini? Would God? He didn't know whose sin he was turning away from. He would've asked God, if he thought God was listening.

Someplace where it was still probably snowing, faces he wasn't allowed to miss wore the same cross. People who had only one life to repent for.

Armando had power, money, fine Italian leather, and buttermilk. Ray Vecchio had already given up everything. There was nothing left for Lent.

Fic: Kicking The Line
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
Words: 584
Notes: Stand-alone, post-COTW. Belongs to this story arc but reads on its own.


There was a line between him and Fraser.

Ray was constantly aware of it. Always there; it was there right now, too, in the snow. Right between 'em, and it cut through the fire in front of them and the tent behind them. Had been since before he'd finally given up on Stella, even, which should've been weird but wasn't. All in his head, too, 'cause even though half the time he worked himself into a paranoid ball of hopping crazy thinking Fraser had him figured out, he knew the guy was oblivious. The line was all his, but it was shaped nicely to fit that obliviousness.

( 'Sure' is for people with nothing on the line. You and me, we just get on with it. )