due South ficlet: Roadspill
Sep. 14th, 2008 09:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
littledoglaughedAuthor: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rustydog
Fandom: due South
Characters: Fraser, Ray V, Diefenbaker
Rating/warnings: rated PG, no spoilers, description of a cargo truck accident
Words: 1000 (exactly!)
Beta:donutsweeper
"Oh god," Ray groaned as he pulled the Riviera into a clear spot on the median and got a view of the carnage. "Patrol reports a semi turned over on the highway, they can't bother to mention it would be like this? God, it's horrible." He climbed out of the car and walked closer to the site of the accident, not waiting for Fraser and Dief.
The former cargo of the truck was now scattered across two lanes of the highway and half the grassy median—hundreds if not thousands of individuals, some piled on top of each other, others alone, face-down on the asphalt or staring at the sky with glassy, unseeing eyes. In a few gruesome cases, insides were spilling out onto the ground.
Fraser stepped up beside him. "You know, Ray, near Moose Jaw I once came upon an overturned truck that had been carrying frozen beaver carcasses. Illegally, of course. It was vitally important to expedite the cleanup, both to clear the roadway and to discourage the influx of wild and domestic carnivores—"
"I don't know what kind of 'influx' you're worried about here, Fraser, but, speaking of carnivores... look at your wolf."
Diefenbaker had picked his way through the scattered cargo, found an especially large heap, and lay down on top of it, settling comfortably with paws crossed and his head resting between two furry brown ears. The owner of the ears, a teddy bear dressed in a torn felt jacket, smiled an embroidered smile.
With a small shake of his head, Fraser stepped into the blocked lane of the road to position himself in the wolf's line of sight. "Diefenbaker, don't be rude. These items are not your property, and they are certainly not your bed." Diefenbaker just shifted his eyes to look up at Fraser and let his tail flop once.
"Your friends?" Fraser replied and seemed very close to rolling his eyes. "I don't think so, you've only just met them. I know you make friends quickly, but this is a little much."
Diefenbaker didn't respond to Fraser; he suddenly seemed very interested in something else. He stood up, stumbling slightly when the pile he had been lying on shifted, and pricked up his ears, sniffing in the air. He then followed his nose to a spot right at the mouth of the overturned truck's empty cavity, sat on his haunches, and barked once.
"What's he doing, Frase?" Ray called.
"He's found something. That's his 'alert' signal. Though I can't imagine—"
Fraser stopped when Diefenbaker stood, picked up a pink kitten in his teeth, and began shaking it violently. He then held it down with both front paws while he tugged at the fur on the belly. He finally managed to rip it open, causing the stuffing to burst out in a cottony cascade. Satisfied, Diefenbaker lay down and began to lick the scrap of pink fur.
It took Fraser three seconds to wade through the piles of stuffed animals and wrestle the scrap away from the wolf. Ray was slightly behind him.
"Hey, what's this?" Ray bent down and pushed aside the cloud of Polyfil to reveal a small plastic bag filled with dried brown leaves.
"I don't believe it. Fraser, these teddy bears are drug mules!"
Fraser looked around. "I did see a purple donkey, but technically, Ray, I don't believe any of these animals are mules. You see, when a mare and a jack—the male donkey—"
"Yeah, whatever, forget it. The point is, Dief's a genius! Did you know he could sniff drugs?"
Fraser tilted his head, considering. "He's certainly capable, but in this case—" he held up the scrap of fur Diefenbaker had been licking up to his nose and sniffed, then licked it himself. (Ray looked away and closed his eyes, but not in time.) "Yes, it's what I suspected. I hate to disappoint you, Ray, but I believe Diefenbaker smelled hamburger grease on this animal. The smuggler was probably eating fast food while he stuffed his illegal goods into the toys."
Ray established eye contact with Diefenbaker and made a "What the hell?" face at him. Diefenbaker sneezed disinterestedly, then ambled away, nose busily searching again. Ray shook his head ruefully.
"Okay, well, I'll get a cleanup crew out here and we'll turn these things over to the DEA. It's their problem now."
"Oh dear."
"What? What is it now? I don't need complications with a pile of freaking plush toys, Fraser."
"We're going to need more teddy bears, Ray."
"Oh, come on, Fraser, you're worried about replacements? I'm sure the toy company can survive if they don't sell any stuffed lambies and bunnies for a week."
"Well, that's the thing, Ray, there's no company. I believe these animals are individual donations."
"How do you know that? Where was this truck headed, anyway?"
"Elaine said Memphis, if I recall—intended for a children's hospital. It picked up its cargo in British Columbia. That's why I insisted we respond to this call."
Ray took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "All right. Don't wanna disappoint the children. Of course. I suppose you have a brilliant plan that involves going door-to-door in every neighborhood of Chicago?"
"Fortunately, no, Ray. I happen to know a group of elderly women with former ties to the textiles industry—"
"You know old ladies who can sew."
"And knit. Delightful women. Quite powerful in their spheres of influence, too."
"A knitting grandma mafia."
"Well, I wouldn't put it so crudely, Ray, but I believe these women will be quite effective in soliciting new donations in a timely manner."
"Fine. I'll deal with the drugs, you call your granny mafia, and—" he looked over at Diefenbaker, who had found another comfortable pile of plush friends, "take your wolf to the dog park, why don't you? Never thought I'd say he needs to get out more, but the amount of affection he has for that Snoopy just ain't right."
Author's notes: Written fortravels_in_time for this graphic prompt:
I thought about saving this as my costume for Karaokegal's Come as You Aren't party, but even though I've never written due South before, really—dogs and stuffed animals—this wasn't a stretch for me. Probably the only person more likely to write Diefenbaker/stuffed animal isdonutsweeper. :)
rustydogFandom: due South
Characters: Fraser, Ray V, Diefenbaker
Rating/warnings: rated PG, no spoilers, description of a cargo truck accident
Words: 1000 (exactly!)
Beta:
donutsweeper"Oh god," Ray groaned as he pulled the Riviera into a clear spot on the median and got a view of the carnage. "Patrol reports a semi turned over on the highway, they can't bother to mention it would be like this? God, it's horrible." He climbed out of the car and walked closer to the site of the accident, not waiting for Fraser and Dief.
The former cargo of the truck was now scattered across two lanes of the highway and half the grassy median—hundreds if not thousands of individuals, some piled on top of each other, others alone, face-down on the asphalt or staring at the sky with glassy, unseeing eyes. In a few gruesome cases, insides were spilling out onto the ground.
Fraser stepped up beside him. "You know, Ray, near Moose Jaw I once came upon an overturned truck that had been carrying frozen beaver carcasses. Illegally, of course. It was vitally important to expedite the cleanup, both to clear the roadway and to discourage the influx of wild and domestic carnivores—"
"I don't know what kind of 'influx' you're worried about here, Fraser, but, speaking of carnivores... look at your wolf."
Diefenbaker had picked his way through the scattered cargo, found an especially large heap, and lay down on top of it, settling comfortably with paws crossed and his head resting between two furry brown ears. The owner of the ears, a teddy bear dressed in a torn felt jacket, smiled an embroidered smile.
With a small shake of his head, Fraser stepped into the blocked lane of the road to position himself in the wolf's line of sight. "Diefenbaker, don't be rude. These items are not your property, and they are certainly not your bed." Diefenbaker just shifted his eyes to look up at Fraser and let his tail flop once.
"Your friends?" Fraser replied and seemed very close to rolling his eyes. "I don't think so, you've only just met them. I know you make friends quickly, but this is a little much."
Diefenbaker didn't respond to Fraser; he suddenly seemed very interested in something else. He stood up, stumbling slightly when the pile he had been lying on shifted, and pricked up his ears, sniffing in the air. He then followed his nose to a spot right at the mouth of the overturned truck's empty cavity, sat on his haunches, and barked once.
"What's he doing, Frase?" Ray called.
"He's found something. That's his 'alert' signal. Though I can't imagine—"
Fraser stopped when Diefenbaker stood, picked up a pink kitten in his teeth, and began shaking it violently. He then held it down with both front paws while he tugged at the fur on the belly. He finally managed to rip it open, causing the stuffing to burst out in a cottony cascade. Satisfied, Diefenbaker lay down and began to lick the scrap of pink fur.
It took Fraser three seconds to wade through the piles of stuffed animals and wrestle the scrap away from the wolf. Ray was slightly behind him.
"Hey, what's this?" Ray bent down and pushed aside the cloud of Polyfil to reveal a small plastic bag filled with dried brown leaves.
"I don't believe it. Fraser, these teddy bears are drug mules!"
Fraser looked around. "I did see a purple donkey, but technically, Ray, I don't believe any of these animals are mules. You see, when a mare and a jack—the male donkey—"
"Yeah, whatever, forget it. The point is, Dief's a genius! Did you know he could sniff drugs?"
Fraser tilted his head, considering. "He's certainly capable, but in this case—" he held up the scrap of fur Diefenbaker had been licking up to his nose and sniffed, then licked it himself. (Ray looked away and closed his eyes, but not in time.) "Yes, it's what I suspected. I hate to disappoint you, Ray, but I believe Diefenbaker smelled hamburger grease on this animal. The smuggler was probably eating fast food while he stuffed his illegal goods into the toys."
Ray established eye contact with Diefenbaker and made a "What the hell?" face at him. Diefenbaker sneezed disinterestedly, then ambled away, nose busily searching again. Ray shook his head ruefully.
"Okay, well, I'll get a cleanup crew out here and we'll turn these things over to the DEA. It's their problem now."
"Oh dear."
"What? What is it now? I don't need complications with a pile of freaking plush toys, Fraser."
"We're going to need more teddy bears, Ray."
"Oh, come on, Fraser, you're worried about replacements? I'm sure the toy company can survive if they don't sell any stuffed lambies and bunnies for a week."
"Well, that's the thing, Ray, there's no company. I believe these animals are individual donations."
"How do you know that? Where was this truck headed, anyway?"
"Elaine said Memphis, if I recall—intended for a children's hospital. It picked up its cargo in British Columbia. That's why I insisted we respond to this call."
Ray took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "All right. Don't wanna disappoint the children. Of course. I suppose you have a brilliant plan that involves going door-to-door in every neighborhood of Chicago?"
"Fortunately, no, Ray. I happen to know a group of elderly women with former ties to the textiles industry—"
"You know old ladies who can sew."
"And knit. Delightful women. Quite powerful in their spheres of influence, too."
"A knitting grandma mafia."
"Well, I wouldn't put it so crudely, Ray, but I believe these women will be quite effective in soliciting new donations in a timely manner."
"Fine. I'll deal with the drugs, you call your granny mafia, and—" he looked over at Diefenbaker, who had found another comfortable pile of plush friends, "take your wolf to the dog park, why don't you? Never thought I'd say he needs to get out more, but the amount of affection he has for that Snoopy just ain't right."
Author's notes: Written for
travels_in_time for this graphic prompt: I thought about saving this as my costume for Karaokegal's Come as You Aren't party, but even though I've never written due South before, really—dogs and stuffed animals—this wasn't a stretch for me. Probably the only person more likely to write Diefenbaker/stuffed animal is
donutsweeper. :)
