Author: Berty (bertybertle or berty)
Website/link to fic: http://www.origin.popullus.net/. Most are also posted at the old DS Archive.
Fanlore page: tbc
First DS fic posted: 2006
Full disclosure: just a fan
Style and strengths: Berty is a master of the Fraser/Kowalski "first-time" love story. Her works are infused with passion and discovery (and in one story, rediscovery), as well as romance, angst and dancing. The sex between Ray and Fraser is more than hot; it's combustible, at times joyful, and fully employs the other senses. Her DS snippets and shorter stories cover everything from gen to NC-17, wingfic to comedy.
Other DS/C6D activity: Some Wilby Wonderful (Duck/Dan, Duck/Buddy friendship) and Slings & Arrows snippets.
More Things in Heaven and Earth (DS, F/K, NC-17, 132kb). An AU casefic, and one of Berty's few stories to include Vecchio and Frannie as well. Kowalski is an ex-cop and psychic that Fraser, Frannie and Vecchio (reluctantly) turn to when they need help finding a kidnapped child. I love how Fraser's able to connect with Kowalski here, whose "gift" has forced him to erect even more barriers than Fraser has when it comes to getting close to people.
Kowalski's handshake was neither too strong nor too weak, but easy, and his rough palm spoke of the hours he must have spent in this dim, cluttered workshop.
Fraser was about to explain further when Kowalski suddenly stilled, his hand going rigid but still holding on. Eyes that had been evading his gaze since he walked in were now boring into Fraser, wide and... frightened?
... snow... mittens... a woman with brown hair and a kind but tired smile holding his hand... a uniform, his hands clumsy, putting it on for the first time... a woman, tiny, with dark tumbling hair, red mouth and dead eyes, skin paler than the snow that fell on her eyelashes, her cheeks, her lips... a practical looking man, gruff and simple, there but somehow not... a little girl, a dark room, a man with a gun, the sound of a shot...
Kowalski slowly let Fraser's hand go. Holding his own hand away from him as if it was somehow tainted, he stepped back, leaning slightly, presumably to allow what little light there was fall onto Fraser's face. Fraser waited for him to explain this curious behaviour, but the man seemed to close down in front of his very eyes, his head going down, his shoulders hunching as he crossed his arms over his chest, hugging himself. "What do you want?" he asked flatly.
The Longest Distance (DS/Last Night, F/K, NC-17, 57kb). Written for Team Angst. Counting down to the final hours before the end of the world. Not surprisingly, Fraser has remained at his post, working on reports, focused on duty to the end but missing Ray and what might have been. And not surprisingly, Ray chooses over duty and is on his way to Fraser to spend whatever time they have left together. The final section always blows me away.
The Vecchios had gone so far as to ask him down to Florida for the last week. Ray bet the Style Pig had had to swallow hard around that one. He'd almost gone just to piss him off, but it had seemed too easy.
This wasn't the time for easy.
So Ray'd found himself with a choice: join the party on the street and maybe find someone to hook up with so he didn't have to be alone; go into the 2-7 every day until the end and listen to the lost ones crying for something he couldn't give them; or take a chance and find his own peace.
Right now he's in North Dakota somewhere, in his dad's old pick-up, which he hates, listening to music he can't stand, driving steadily northeast.
He has two days, four hours and forty-two minutes.
Their thing is still there. Not even the end of time can mess with it.
In Extremis (DS, F/K, NC-17, 43kb). Written for getfraserlaid. Ray has a major request of Fraser, one that could easily destroy their relationship. This one packs quite an emotional kick, while at the same time may melt your computer. Also available as a fantastic podcast by nos4a2no9.
“You said anything… if I ever needed anything, that I could come to you. Did you mean that too?” Ray says fast and loud, like he was just waiting for Fraser’s voice to prime him.
“Yes,” Fraser replies simply. He doesn’t need to qualify it; he’s past believing he could deny Ray anything in his power.
Fraser wonders if he can approach Ray yet without a negative reaction from his tense friend. Just as he’s about to risk it, Ray closes the Consulate door, locking it behind him. With the air of a condemned man he turns and closes the gap between them, his eyes still cast down.
Now he’s closer, Fraser can smell the torment on his friend. Ray is a mixture of cold rain and whiskey and tears.
“I don’t want you to ask questions or try and talk me out of anything, okay? I just want yes or no, can you do that?” Ray’s voice is low and tight like he’s squeezing it out through a throat that’s too small.
A Time in a Man's Life (DS, F/K, PG, 15kb). Dead!Bob is in the doghouse until he set things right romantically between Fraser and Ray, but nobody's cooperating--including Buck and Dief. Bob rocks in this one, though his ability to negotiate with Dief is no better than his son's.
"Doughnuts? No, I don't have any doughnuts."
"No, I have no intention of going to fetch some for you."
"Diefenbaker, I find your fixation with pastries disturbing in the extreme. We're talking about Benton's future happiness here. Now are you going to help me or..."
"I don't think that's actually anatomically possible for a human."
Necktie (S&A, PG, 5kb). Another example of Berty's talent for writing comedy. Anna is trying to get Geoffrey ready to meet with the Prime Minister, only he's being...Geoffrey. Throw in a priceless assist from Darren, and you have Anna at her exasperated finest.
"Stand still!" she barked, her voice taking on an edge of hysteria. "It's just the Prime Minister, Anna. I don't see why I have to..."
"We've been over this. You just do, Geoffrey. It's respectful," she explained, as if she were talking to a six-year-old.
"That's right. We don't want the PM to think that we're a bunch of money-grabbing, narcissistic, egocentric, self-serving bigots... oh, wait – that's his cabinet isn't it?" Darren drawled with exaggerated realisation.
Due South author profiles
- Author profile: Berty