ds_noticeboard | Fic: The Ballad of Ben and Ray

Pairing: F/K pre-slash
Warning: PG-13 for naughty words and really tortured Beatles-imagery.
Set: During COTW, Ray's POV
Words: 490
Category: Odd.

Summary: I have really no excuse for this one. Let's just say it came to me when I should have been doing better things. Anyway, you need a working knowledge of the Beatles to get half the references and it isn't entirely complimentary in a "I mock because I love" kind of way.

See, the thing about Fraser and me? We’re a duet. Like all the greats. Like me and Stel – we were Fred and Ginger. She was beautiful and blonde and I was the ugly guy with the one good suit and great foot action. We were greatness. Then she left me, and unlike Fred who could get his girl back with a song and a top-hat, I was left tap-dancing alone.

Until the Canadian freak came into the picture.

And then we were Simon and Garfunkel, Abbot and Costello, Bill and Ted, but really? We were Lennon and McCartney.

Yeah I know, I should be Lennon. I got the good hair, the glasses and the attitude, bam bam bam, but you wanna know the truth? I’m McCartney. I’m the one who pulls Frase back from the brink, who works the room behind-the-scenes, you know? He’s the walrus, I’m just sitting on a cornflake. Without me, he’s just a guy with no possessions and telling people to give peace a chance. Without him? I’m singing Mull of Kintyre. And I hate Mull of Fucking Kintyre.

If anything was going to break us up, I thought our Yoko would be Ray Vecchiono. He got the swing, the history, the whole she-bang and when Frase saw him in that hotel room? I thought they were gonna have a bed-in for a week, and I would end up as Ringo.
But now? We landed in the middle of Nowherefucktitut in some large freezer-land, and this is what’ll end us. This’ll be where I have to form Wings and do the Frog Chorus.

Kowalski & Fraser. Lennon & McCartney.

Their last hit song together was the Long and Winding Road, I think, and yeah, I’m all over that. I just know exactly how they fucking felt. Except their road wasn’t an ice-block and they hadn’t just climbed over Everest. And you know what I think their problem was? They never got it on. No, you gotta hear me out on this one. If Paul and John had done the deed, or really, Paul had planted one on John…no, that’s not it. Ok, if Paul had wanted to nail John into the ground repeatedly, in a flimsy tent in the middle of an ice-field, after being stuck dick-to-dick in a big crack? Yeah, they would never have busted up, and it would have been Yoko who now?

See, the big thing is? If we split up now, we lose our mojo. In 10 years time, my buddy Frase will end up being shot dead by an obsessed eskimo groupie, or a pissed-off moose, and I’ll be crying over my soy-burgers. And soy-burgers really suck.
So I can’t let that happen. I gotta stay, and I gotta let him know that I need a little help from my friend. Goo goo ge joob.

“Hey Frase…” don’t let me down. Take a sad Ray and make him better…