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For
marginalia, just because.
I First Came To Canada on the Trail of a Mountie
Frannie/Hope (Due South/Twitch City)
"Hey, can I sit here? It's so busy, there's no tables."
Hope looked up from the cup of coffee she was intently examining, ready to tell whoever it was to leave her the hell alone, but the woman had already dropped her bags and was unwinding her scarf, still talking.
"So I told Ray that if he was coming to Canada I was coming too. No way I was going to let him see Fraser without me. And he says, Frannie, you get homesick if you stay at Cousin Carlotta's. He's such an idiot..."
Hope was disconcerted. She appeared to be having a bizarre sort of conversation with this woman (Frannie, she'd said), all dark curls and long red nails, when all she'd wanted to do was sit here and sulk, far away from Curtis and his television. What kind of person just starts talking to a stranger?
"Oh, that's a gorgeous ring." Frannie's voice broke into her reverie. Hope opened her mouth to respond, but Frannie was off and running again. "I wish someone would give me something as beautiful as that. Of course, Fraser would never...I mean, Fraser's idea of a good gift is a jar of moose salve or something. Not that it matters when he's that beautiful, and, and-- nice."
Despite herself, Hope was starting to enjoy this completely one-sided conversation. Living with Curtis, she'd nearly forgotten that people actually talked to each other, and not just to the tv. And that they talked about things other than the last program they'd watched. Amazing, really.
"Toronto's like a real city, you know? I don't know what Ray was talking about, saying I'd be bored. I mean, the shops are so cool -- look at everything I bought! This sweater? 40 percent off!"
Frannie looked gleeful, and Hope couldn't help but smile. Frannie's eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were glowing from the cold. Here in the coffee shop, full of people tired from trudging through the snow and exhausted from Christmas shopping, she was vibrant and excited, and Hope found it hard to look away. She felt herself relax, and a little of the tension in her neck and shoulders drained away. Barely listening, she watched Frannie's mouth and hands move in counterpoint as she told another story (it seemed to be about this guy named Fraser and his red...pants? She really wasn't paying enough attention to figure that out). She sat, still smiling, hands wrapped around her coffee, the continuous words swirling around her, making her feel safe.
"Ma, you know, she tells me to meet a nice Canadian boy. Yeesh. Not that I don't want to meet a nice Canadian boy -- I mean, all the Canadian boys I've met have been so sweet, and so polite. They really know how to make a girl feel like a lady. I mean--"
Frannie leaned over the table, looking like she was about to spill a secret, and Hope couldn't resist. She placed her hands on Frannie's face (which had finally warmed up, from the coffee and the coffeehouse), and kissed her, just kissed her. Her mouth was fiery and sweet, as if all the words had created their own energy.
There was nothing but silence when Hope finally sat back in her chair. Frannie was blushing, her cheeks even redder, and she looked at Hope from the corner of her eye, shocked and dazed. She touched her lips and took a breath, but still no words came out. Hope looked across the table with a flirtatious grin.
"Hi, I'm Hope."
* * *
(There was going to be sex, but I just couldn't get them to leave to coffee shop. It's too cold out there!)
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I First Came To Canada on the Trail of a Mountie
Frannie/Hope (Due South/Twitch City)
"Hey, can I sit here? It's so busy, there's no tables."
Hope looked up from the cup of coffee she was intently examining, ready to tell whoever it was to leave her the hell alone, but the woman had already dropped her bags and was unwinding her scarf, still talking.
"So I told Ray that if he was coming to Canada I was coming too. No way I was going to let him see Fraser without me. And he says, Frannie, you get homesick if you stay at Cousin Carlotta's. He's such an idiot..."
Hope was disconcerted. She appeared to be having a bizarre sort of conversation with this woman (Frannie, she'd said), all dark curls and long red nails, when all she'd wanted to do was sit here and sulk, far away from Curtis and his television. What kind of person just starts talking to a stranger?
"Oh, that's a gorgeous ring." Frannie's voice broke into her reverie. Hope opened her mouth to respond, but Frannie was off and running again. "I wish someone would give me something as beautiful as that. Of course, Fraser would never...I mean, Fraser's idea of a good gift is a jar of moose salve or something. Not that it matters when he's that beautiful, and, and-- nice."
Despite herself, Hope was starting to enjoy this completely one-sided conversation. Living with Curtis, she'd nearly forgotten that people actually talked to each other, and not just to the tv. And that they talked about things other than the last program they'd watched. Amazing, really.
"Toronto's like a real city, you know? I don't know what Ray was talking about, saying I'd be bored. I mean, the shops are so cool -- look at everything I bought! This sweater? 40 percent off!"
Frannie looked gleeful, and Hope couldn't help but smile. Frannie's eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were glowing from the cold. Here in the coffee shop, full of people tired from trudging through the snow and exhausted from Christmas shopping, she was vibrant and excited, and Hope found it hard to look away. She felt herself relax, and a little of the tension in her neck and shoulders drained away. Barely listening, she watched Frannie's mouth and hands move in counterpoint as she told another story (it seemed to be about this guy named Fraser and his red...pants? She really wasn't paying enough attention to figure that out). She sat, still smiling, hands wrapped around her coffee, the continuous words swirling around her, making her feel safe.
"Ma, you know, she tells me to meet a nice Canadian boy. Yeesh. Not that I don't want to meet a nice Canadian boy -- I mean, all the Canadian boys I've met have been so sweet, and so polite. They really know how to make a girl feel like a lady. I mean--"
Frannie leaned over the table, looking like she was about to spill a secret, and Hope couldn't resist. She placed her hands on Frannie's face (which had finally warmed up, from the coffee and the coffeehouse), and kissed her, just kissed her. Her mouth was fiery and sweet, as if all the words had created their own energy.
There was nothing but silence when Hope finally sat back in her chair. Frannie was blushing, her cheeks even redder, and she looked at Hope from the corner of her eye, shocked and dazed. She touched her lips and took a breath, but still no words came out. Hope looked across the table with a flirtatious grin.
"Hi, I'm Hope."
* * *
(There was going to be sex, but I just couldn't get them to leave to coffee shop. It's too cold out there!)