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whiterabbit1613 Jun. 13th, 2008 05:40 pm Title: A Moving Subject (is the hardest kind to capture)
Author:whiterabbit1613
Rating: PG
Fandom/Pairing: Due South; vague Fraser-->Ray
Prompt:ds_aprilfools(11) video camera
Summary: Fraser does something he shouldn't.
my table
Author:
whiterabbit1613Rating: PG
Fandom/Pairing: Due South; vague Fraser-->Ray
Prompt:
ds_aprilfools(11) video cameraSummary: Fraser does something he shouldn't.
Fraser knew he shouldn't have put the tape in the VCR the moment he did it: knew he shouldn't have pressed play, knew he shouldn't have taken it out of its clamshell, even, knew most of all that he shouldn't have watched, shouldn't have invaded Ray's privacy like that. But something within him had promised it would be worth it, and so, though it might have been a mistake, it was no accident.
The first shot was clearly Ray, from behind, hands in pockets, jeans slung low and tight. He was walking through a park, kids throwing frisbees around him, dogs catching balls and running to their owners to do it again. Seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was being watched, he kicked a soccer ball back to its group of high school girls, helped catch the leash of a tiny dog who had escaped its owner. Over Ray's shoulder, the owner looked grateful, shook his hand, and then made eye contact with the lens of the videocamera with a slight frown. His lips moved, clearly saying something to Ray; Ray turned, caught sight of the videographer, shook the owner's hand once again, and started walking closer to the camera.
"What are you doing here?" Ray asked with a smile. He looked young, no lines around his eyes or mouth yet, only tract elements of sadness in the way he smiled and moved. Maybe twenty, Fraser thought, certainly no older.
"School project," said another male voice. Fraser assumed it was the videographer. "I needed a shot of the park. Never thought I'd run into you, though."
They walked for some time, and their idle conversation was picked up by the camera mike, silly words and youthful speculations caught on record for posterity. Once in awhile the camera would pan over, catching Ray in profile against trees and grass, or in the act of drinking at a water fountain, or catching an errant frisbee. One such time, Ray turned and looked slightly off to the side of the lens. "Why do you keep filming me, huh? That one guy thought you were stalking me or somethin'."
"You're just so photogenic," said the disembodied voice teasingly. "I can't help myself."
Ray fluttered his eyelashes and blew the camera a kiss. He looked so young and amused and fresh that it made Fraser's heart ache. He had a sudden, intense desire to know who was behind the camera, who had the priveledge and pleasure of knowing Ray like this.
The video stopped abruptly, after its one, true, shot of the park. Fraser watched the blue screen for a couple moments, then ejected the tape and returned it to its box.
The first shot was clearly Ray, from behind, hands in pockets, jeans slung low and tight. He was walking through a park, kids throwing frisbees around him, dogs catching balls and running to their owners to do it again. Seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was being watched, he kicked a soccer ball back to its group of high school girls, helped catch the leash of a tiny dog who had escaped its owner. Over Ray's shoulder, the owner looked grateful, shook his hand, and then made eye contact with the lens of the videocamera with a slight frown. His lips moved, clearly saying something to Ray; Ray turned, caught sight of the videographer, shook the owner's hand once again, and started walking closer to the camera.
"What are you doing here?" Ray asked with a smile. He looked young, no lines around his eyes or mouth yet, only tract elements of sadness in the way he smiled and moved. Maybe twenty, Fraser thought, certainly no older.
"School project," said another male voice. Fraser assumed it was the videographer. "I needed a shot of the park. Never thought I'd run into you, though."
They walked for some time, and their idle conversation was picked up by the camera mike, silly words and youthful speculations caught on record for posterity. Once in awhile the camera would pan over, catching Ray in profile against trees and grass, or in the act of drinking at a water fountain, or catching an errant frisbee. One such time, Ray turned and looked slightly off to the side of the lens. "Why do you keep filming me, huh? That one guy thought you were stalking me or somethin'."
"You're just so photogenic," said the disembodied voice teasingly. "I can't help myself."
Ray fluttered his eyelashes and blew the camera a kiss. He looked so young and amused and fresh that it made Fraser's heart ache. He had a sudden, intense desire to know who was behind the camera, who had the priveledge and pleasure of knowing Ray like this.
The video stopped abruptly, after its one, true, shot of the park. Fraser watched the blue screen for a couple moments, then ejected the tape and returned it to its box.
my table