[open] the lamp is burnin' low upon my table top, the snow is softly falling

[maintiensledroit]

Who: Benton Fraser, Diefenbaker, and you!

What: Woodworking, guitar playing, ice skating, and more

When: Through February

Where: In Milton, at the basin, in the woods, others tbd.

Content Warnings: mention of animal butchery, hunting, others tbd.

i.

[ Even in this icy weather, it's a good idea to preserve meat rather than simply stashing it, raw, in the snow, and so Fraser can be found in the first weeks of February in the woods, seeking out a likely-looking tree trunk, either fallen or still standing. Once found, he brings tools and begins hollowing the thing out, working steadily with Diefenbaker either lazing beside him in the snow or off in the woods, hunting for himself.

When the log is hollow, he hitches Dief in a jury-rigged harness attached to leather straps around the log and together they haul it back to the house where he's been staying with Heartman. Once back in town, Fraser can be found hammering nails and hooks inside the hollowed trunk, humming quietly to himself as he works. He'd be more than happy to answer any questions, should someone stop by to ask what he's up to. ]

ii.

[ Before he found the right trunk, while he was out in the woods, something else had happened in the early days of the month. Diefenbaker had gone stock-still and focused at his side, and when Fraser looked up, he'd seen the thing that had so caught the wolf's attention: a dog, enormous and mossy, watching them from among the trees.

No amount of calling and cajoling brings the best toward them, but when the dog had begun walking off Dief had followed without hesitation, leaving Fraser to come along or no as he would. They'd followed the strange animal on what began to feel almost like a path through the woods, strangely clear and easy to move along despite no signs of having been cleaned or kept up by man. It was hardly a surprise at all when the path led to a cabin he'd never seen before, sitting empty and cold but neat and sturdy for all that. He'd left Dief outside with the strange dog and gone to look for any signs of life.

There were none. The cabin was empty and mostly bare of supplies, but in the bedroom he found an impossible treasure: an old six-string acoustic guitar, tucked carefully away into its case. Even better, when he'd carefully lifted the thing out to inspect it, he'd found the case contained even more riches: extra packets of strings, a few picks, even a somewhat stiff capo.

Now, when he's finished work for the day, Fraser can be found on the porch steps of the house on Thompson's Drive with the guitar in his lap. On the first evening, he'll be there stringing it; on subsequent evenings someone might hear the rippling sounds of a fingerpicked accompaniment and a pleasant baritenor voice singing along. ]

ii.

[ But the Mountie isn't always in the woods. After an excursion to what remains of the outdoor gear store, he can also be found down on the frozen Basin, accompanied by the hissing sound of his hockey skates over the ice as he makes long loops or short sprints or simply skates backward in long, graceful swoops. Or perhaps someone nearby might hear the smack of a stick hitting a puck and the muffled thunk of said puck driving into a snowbank.

There's another stick and more pucks on the bank, just in case anyone would like to join him in his games. ]

Comments

[maintiensledroit]

You guide it.

[ Fraszer drops the puck he'd been holding onto the ice and demonstrates, showing the other man how to nudge it along with the concave curve of the blade, how to tap it with the arching other side. ]

And then –

[ He positions himself sidelong to the snowbank at the edge of the ice, lifts the stick in a swinging arc, and shows him a slow-motion slapshot that still sends the puck gliding at speed over the rough lake ice. ]

It takes a little getting used to, but the essence is very simple.

[lieutenantsteward]

Oh.

[He grins brightly.]

That was wonderful! I don't think I can do that.

[maintiensledroit]

Try just this first –

[ He retrieves the puck and guides it slowly back over to the other man, then gently passes it, sending it nudging up against the blade of the stick Jopson's holding.

Fraser makes the motions with his own stick, smoothly back and forth, showing him. ]

Like this.

[lieutenantsteward]

[The ice is slick under his boots, but he manages to maneuver himself into a position to hit the puck, experimentally at first and then with a little more gusto, laughing the entire time.]

Ah, I think I understand it.

[maintiensledroit]

You're a natural.

[ He's chuckling as he skates to intercept the puck where it's drifting across the ice, sending it back to Jopson with a flick of his blade. ]

Everyone I knew grew up playing hockey. All winter long, we'd play on the ponds in the village.

[lieutenantsteward]

I can imagine it. [He steadies himself on the ice and returns it, not trying to get it around him or anything. It's like playing a game of catch.]

This would be - entertaining, I think.

[maintiensledroit]

[ It's simple, a child's game, but satisfying and fun, too. Passing the puck back and forth has him smiling just like he always used to, back on the ponds with Mark. ]

Well, when you grow up in the Northwest Territories, you make your own fun in the winter.

[lieutenantsteward]

Of course. [He hits the puck back, sometimes angling a little now to try and get past him. What can he say - he's still a little boy at heart sometimes.]

But this is beyond boyhood fun.

[maintiensledroit]

There are those who make it their profession.

[ He reaches with the stick to catch the puck as it drifts past him, sends a similarly angled pass back. ]

But I was never that good.

[ And besides, there was never any question what career he would have. ]

What other games did you enjoy, as a boy?

[lieutenantsteward]

[He reaches for it and slips, but manages to regain his balance.]

Ah, well. We would chase each other with sticks. That was my favorite game. [He grins, tucking his forelock behind his ear.]

We passed a ball around. We would talk people out of the coins in their pockets.

[maintiensledroit]

Well, who doesn't enjoy a round of chasing each other with sticks?

[ He chuckles and pushes himself backwards on the skates, shifting his weight to carve lazy S-shapes into the ice and putting more distance between them, now that Thomas is getting more comfortable with passing the puck. ]

Ah, a troublemaker, eh?

[lieutenantsteward]

It wasn't for trouble. [He knocks the puck back with no real heat, just trying to make it over to him.]

But it was fun. Were you the same sort?

[maintiensledroit]

Ah... no.

[ He was the sort who pinned his wallet to his underwear. (He has been this square since birth.) Fraser collects the puck and send it back again. ]

But I can see the appeal. No, I was a fairly quiet child. I spent a good deal of my time reading or out in the woods.

[lieutenantsteward]

And I spent money dreaming of adventures.

This isn't exactly what I had anticipated.

[He misses the puck and turns to retrieve it.]

[maintiensledroit]

No, I expect it isn't.

[ He straightens, resting his hands on the end of the stick, waiting patiently for Jopson to get the puck. ]

Had you gone on other expeditions before this one?

[lieutenantsteward]

Oh yes. [He retrieves it and lines up his shot.]

My first expedition with Captain Crozier was to Antarctica. That was...extraordinary. [He takes a moment, then hits it towards Fraser.]

Before that, I chased slavers through the West Indies.

[maintiensledroit]

Those both sound like very worthy missions. I've never spent much time outside of Canada... my duty kept me there until very recently.

[ He collects the puck and passes it back before pausing. Fraser considers the bank, then skates over to the snow and starts sectioning off an area of it, about twice the width of a normal hockey net. ]

Would you like to try the shot I showed you before?

[lieutenantsteward]

[Thomas nods.]

As long as I don't lose it in the snow. I'd hate for you to resort to flat rocks.

[maintiensledroit]

[ Fraser's chuckle whips away on the cold, fresh-scented wind. ]

Digging them out is half the fun. We used to see how far in we could drive them.

Go on, give it a try.

[lieutenantsteward]

[He finds his balance on the ice and sends the puck flying right into the snow. It doesn't hit the target, but that's not what makes it fun.]

Ha! I did it.

[maintiensledroit]

Very nicely done!

[ He skates over to the bank and digs the puck out with a few practiced twists of his wrist and the blade of his hockey stick, then passes it back to Jopson to try again. ]

Do you pick everything up this quickly?

[lieutenantsteward]

I try. Sometimes - [He tries to catch it and ends up having to retrieve it in his boots.]

- sometimes I find I need to learn something quickly or the ship will not run as it should.

[maintiensledroit]

I'm not a Navy man, myself, but I can see how a good steward would be indispensable.

[ Who else sees all the inner workings of a captain and crew? Maybe the medic, perhaps an especially good executive officer. ]

And that's certainly a helpful skill to have here.

[lieutenantsteward]

[He can't help a little laugh.]

And what is it that you do?

[Thomas doesn't know what the Mounted Police is.]

[maintiensledroit]

I'm a police officer.

[ Which is true, but as in Chicago, he feels he ought to be transparent with his ability to act as a police officer. ]

In Canada. But not this Canada, unless I'm very much mistaken. So in my Canada, and at the Consulate, where I work, I'm a policeman.

[ A pause, as he thinks his own words over. ]

That’s not clear. Let me start over.

[ He opens his mouth to speak, blinks rapidly as he realizes he's about to run aground once more on the same issues, closes his mouth again. ]

...Do you know what a “liaison officer” is…?