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ha!
I just remembered that I was, sort of, by proxy and implication, in a way, slashing John McClane (with Al, naturally) before slashing John McClane was cool. See, a couple of years ago I posted this during WIP Amnesty - it would have been a multi-crossover action-adventure farce, Fraser/RayK of course, and for reasons that do not need exploring at this juncture, it was going to behoove Fraser to be carrying a gun. Fraser didn't want to and Ray had to persuade him, and this is how I had Ray pitch it:
Ray shooed Fraser into the living room with the pizza, and went to the refrigerator, coming to sit beside him with a beer in each hand. When he held one out to Fraser, he chose not to argue, accepting it and twisting off the cap to show good faith. Ray nodded, took a swig of his own beer, and went over to the shelf of cassettes, where he dug through the collection until he found what he was looking for. He tossed the cardboard sleeve on the coffee table as he set up the VCR to play, and Fraser picked it up.
It showed the face of a slightly battered action hero and a high-rise building in flames, but when Ray took his seat on the couch beside Fraser, it was with the grim implacability of a Depot instructor with an educational hygiene filmstrip. Fraser took a fortifying sip of his beer and settled in to watch.
Perhaps it was the way Ray did not relax, but continued to sit bolt upright, staring intently at the screen, his body language all but screaming at Fraser to pay attention, but it was hard not to connect his partner with the hero. From the moment he said he was a cop, and through the scenes of a disintegrating marriage, Fraser found himself equating the character McClane with Ray. He felt himself becoming emotionally invested in his heartache and the dangerous situation he inevitably found himself plunged into, even though he knew for a fact that the nature of American popular cinema was such that both would be happily resolved by the end of the film.
He was taken a little bit by surprise at the introduction of another character, one who did not equate to Ray or to Stella, an ally for McClane. A man who called McClane “partner” even though there was little he could do to help him, who supported him in every way he could even when his assistance was inadequate. He was mesmerized by the film then, utterly drawn in. When, near the end, McClane’s partner drew his gun, Fraser knew exactly why Ray had shown him the movie. Ray went on watching intently until McClane and his wife were safely in their car, and then turned to face Fraser, ignoring the romantic moment which was, perhaps, a painful reminder of the fact that his own marriage had not benefitted from the intervention of Hollywood screenwriters. He seemed to be searching for words, and Fraser said quietly, “I understand, Ray. I will pick up ammunition for my service weapon tomorrow morning. Do you think I’ll require a backup?”
So, uh. Yes. There we have it. I have always been headed toward writing Die Hard slash. \o?
Ray shooed Fraser into the living room with the pizza, and went to the refrigerator, coming to sit beside him with a beer in each hand. When he held one out to Fraser, he chose not to argue, accepting it and twisting off the cap to show good faith. Ray nodded, took a swig of his own beer, and went over to the shelf of cassettes, where he dug through the collection until he found what he was looking for. He tossed the cardboard sleeve on the coffee table as he set up the VCR to play, and Fraser picked it up.
It showed the face of a slightly battered action hero and a high-rise building in flames, but when Ray took his seat on the couch beside Fraser, it was with the grim implacability of a Depot instructor with an educational hygiene filmstrip. Fraser took a fortifying sip of his beer and settled in to watch.
Perhaps it was the way Ray did not relax, but continued to sit bolt upright, staring intently at the screen, his body language all but screaming at Fraser to pay attention, but it was hard not to connect his partner with the hero. From the moment he said he was a cop, and through the scenes of a disintegrating marriage, Fraser found himself equating the character McClane with Ray. He felt himself becoming emotionally invested in his heartache and the dangerous situation he inevitably found himself plunged into, even though he knew for a fact that the nature of American popular cinema was such that both would be happily resolved by the end of the film.
He was taken a little bit by surprise at the introduction of another character, one who did not equate to Ray or to Stella, an ally for McClane. A man who called McClane “partner” even though there was little he could do to help him, who supported him in every way he could even when his assistance was inadequate. He was mesmerized by the film then, utterly drawn in. When, near the end, McClane’s partner drew his gun, Fraser knew exactly why Ray had shown him the movie. Ray went on watching intently until McClane and his wife were safely in their car, and then turned to face Fraser, ignoring the romantic moment which was, perhaps, a painful reminder of the fact that his own marriage had not benefitted from the intervention of Hollywood screenwriters. He seemed to be searching for words, and Fraser said quietly, “I understand, Ray. I will pick up ammunition for my service weapon tomorrow morning. Do you think I’ll require a backup?”
So, uh. Yes. There we have it. I have always been headed toward writing Die Hard slash. \o?