last wip amnesty: dS
Feb. 3rd, 2006 05:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
visionshadows
This one is too long to put in the other entry. So here you go. 13 pages of Fraser/RayK AU where Ray is a teacher and someone else is Vecchio. It's um. not so great, but it was like the second thing I wrote in the fandom! I got better!
A World Within a World
“Just get in the car, Benny.”
Fraser looked at Vecchio over the hood of the Riv and put his hat on his head. “Understood, Ray.”
The seat folded forward for Dief and Vecchio slid behind the wheel, his fingers resting lightly on the leather. When Fraser was seated and buckled in, Vecchio pulled away from the curb and drove away from the diner.
“It’s not that simple,” Vecchio said as he made a turn. “I know maybe in your little Mountie universe where everyone shits rainbows and says thank you kindly it’s that simple, but in my world it’s not.”
“I have never, and will never, defecate rainbows, Ray.”
“It’s still not that simple, Benny!”
Fraser set his hat on the dashboard and looked out the window. “Perhaps not.”
“You’re my best friend so I gotta be honest with you about these things,” Vecchio said after a few more minutes of strained silence. “We can’t go running off and saving the world every time you think there’s some slight injustice. I know you want to and hell, if we were in Invuik, maybe we could, but this is Chicago. Everybody needs to be saved here and you’re just one person.”
“Actually, we’re two people,” said Fraser. “I am not in this alone.”
“Okay. A Mountie with a hero complex and a cop who plays chauffeur can’t save Chicago from itself.”
“You’re much more than a chauffeur, Ray. I believe you are selling yourself short. For example, you also have a gun.”
Vecchio rubbed his forehead with his hand and shook his head. “You’re something else, Benny. You’re definitely something else.”
“And it wasn’t a slight injustice,” Fraser continued, not hearing Vecchio. “It’s animal cruelty, Ray.”
“I know it is, Benny, and that’s why I called it in.” Dief whined behind him. “I called it in, Dief! Don’t you start too!”
“He’s merely voicing his opinion that a dog should not be left tied to a telephone pole when it is the middle of winter,” Fraser said, his voice frosty. “Which is exactly my opinion as well.”
“I called!” Vecchio turned another corner. “Just shut up for a few minutes, okay? Just be quiet and stop telling me I’m a horrible person.”
“I never said you were a horrible person, Ray.”
“Yeah, you did. Just not in so many words.”
Fraser fell silent and Dief let out a little huff, lying down with his head on his paws. Vecchio drove in silence through the streets of Chicago.
“Look,” Vecchio said after awhile. “Why don’t we go over to the station and run a few of the names for the Dinardo case? Get some addresses and start knocking on doors.”
“As you wish, Ray.” Fraser’s voice was neutral, his eyes locked on the road in front of them. Vecchio tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and headed back towards the station.
The crackle of the radio broke the silence, Frannie’s voice filling the car.
“All available units to Gage Park High School at 5630 South Rockwell. Report of a Hispanic male with a weapon. Possible hostage situation. Repeat, all available units to Gage Park High School.”
Vecchio looked over at Fraser who met his eyes and nodded. “Hold on, Dief!”
The wheels of the Riv squealed as Vecchio turned sharply, cutting across two lanes of traffic. Dief moaned in the backseat.
“You don’t get motion sickness,” Fraser said snappishly, turning to look at Dief.
“Puke in my car and I’ll make a wolf skin rug out of you,” Vecchio threatened, not for the first time. “Tell him not to puke in my car, Benny.”
“Just drive, Ray.” Fraser settled back, facing the windshield again, his face slightly flushed. The day was too long already, the snow calling to him. He wanted to pack Dief up and get out of the city so he could surround himself in the cold. Instead they drove towards a hostage situation at a high school, Dief moaning about motion sickness and Vecchio skidding across patches of ice.
The hallway stretched out before Ray as his students were pressed to the shabby linoleum, sobs and whispers reaching him as he slowly stood up, holding his hands above his head.
“Get back down!”
Ray shook his head. “I can’t do that, Jesus. I know you’re not gonna shoot me. If you were gonna shoot any of us, you would have already.”
Jesus’s hand shook as he aimed the gun at Ray’s head and pulled the trigger. Ray flinched as the bullet passed by him mere inches away and slammed into the concrete wall behind him.
“Get back down on the floor, Mr. K! I don’t wanna hurt you.”
Ray slowly walked towards him, stepping over students. “Just give me the gun. That’s all you gotta do. I’ll protect you.”
“You can’t fucking protect me!” Jesus shouted, jabbing with the gun. “No one fucking can!”
“Have I ever lied to you?” Ray asked, holding out his hand. “I’ve been your teacher for three years now and I haven’t lied to you yet. Why am I gonna lie to you now?”
“Because I have a fucking gun!”
Jesus fired at a window, the glass shattering amidst the screams of the students. Outside, police were gathering. He started to shake and look around nervously.
“Give me the gun,” Ray said again, mere feet away from Jesus. “That’s all you gotta do.”
Jesus was shaking now, sweat beading on his forehead. Ray could see cops at the other end of the hall and an odd spot of red that he couldn’t decipher without his glasses. He had to get the gun or else Jesus was going to be hurt.
“It’s me,” Ray said again, his voice quiet and low. “Mr. K.” His hand closed over the muzzle of the gun and he slowly pushed it down. “It’s me, Jesus.”
With a sob, Jesus relinquished his hold on the gun and Ray tossed it aside, wrapping his arms around the teenager and pulling him to the ground. The hallway was rushed with cops, arms pulling Jesus away from him and cuffing the boy.
“I’ll be at the station!” Ray shouted after him. “I promise!”
“You bet you will. What the hell was that?”
Ray turned to face the cop berating him, an Italian guy with ugly clothes. Next to him was the spot of red – a Mountie. Ray narrowed his eyes.
“I was trying to help him. He’s one of my students.”
“And he tried to fucking shoot you!”
“I’m wearing a vest,” Ray said, tugging up his shirt and showing the vest underneath. “Besides, I knew he wouldn’t do it.”
“So you’re psychic now?” Vecchio glared at the man, eyeing his worn blazer and blue jeans. “You a teacher or something?”
“Are you an ass?”
Vecchio bristled, looking over at Fraser, who was staring at the bullet hole in the wall, his head tilted to the side. “It’s a bullet hole, Fraser. You’ve seen them before.”
Fraser looked startled by Vecchio’s voice, but he hid it quickly, looking over at the teacher. He adjusted his hat and held out his hand. “Constable Benton Fraser.”
“Ray Kowalski,” Ray said, shaking quickly. “Look, you wanna tell me where you guys are taking Jesus or not? Cause I gotta be there to bail him out and call his sister.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Vecchio shook his head and chucked his thumb at the door. “Get your coat. We’ll take your statement at the station house.”
“What do I call you?”
“Call me Vecchio.”
Fraser felt the new Ray’s presence like a cut on the inside of his mouth, something to press his tongue against and think about when he was trying to distract himself from the rest of his life. It was disconcerting.
Dief whined at Fraser and went to hide under Frannie’s desk, leaving Fraser to his thoughts. Vecchio was interviewing Ray and Fraser felt his head start to hurt thinking about it.
Ray was leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his worn blazer thrown over the back of the chair. He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his spiky hair. Fraser could hear everything he was saying.
“He’s a good kid. He’s just been pushed too far recently. Gangs, drugs, everything. He’s a good kid. Look, when do I get to see him?”
“He’s talking to another officer right now,” Vecchio said absently, scribbling on a notepad. “So he’s a gang member?”
“No,” Ray said tightly. Fraser could see the tension in his shoulders. “And I’m not airing his dirty laundry so quit asking. I’m here to bail the kid out.”
“That’s not going to happen anytime soon, Mr. Kowalski.” Vecchio finally looked up from the notepad and saw Fraser holding his hat and staring at another wall. “You thirsty or something?”
Ray sat back and sighed heavily. “Sure. You got shitty coffee here?”
“It’s a police station. Fraser!” Vecchio waved a hand to him. “Can you take teacher man to get a cup of coffee while I go check on the kid?”
“Certainly, Ray,” Fraser said, walking towards the desk, his hat still in his hand. “I believe there is some fresh coffee made. Francesca mentioned something earlier to Detective Dewey.”
“Greatness,” Ray said, standing up and reaching for his blazer. He tugged it on with a fluid motion and followed Fraser through the crowded bullpen. “So you’re a Mountie?”
“Yes.”
“What’s a Mountie doing in Chicago?” Ray asked, his eyes skating over Frannie’s form as she was bent over a file cabinet.
“I first came to Chicago on the trail of my father’s killer and for reasons that don’t need exploring at this juncture, I remained attached as a liaison with the Canadian consulate.”
“That wasn’t rehearsed at all,” Ray said flippantly. “So where’s the shitty coffee?”
Fraser stopped abruptly and looked at him. “Pardon?”
“The coffee. I was promised shitty coffee by Detective Asshole while I waited to talk to Jesus.”
“It wasn’t rehearsed.” Fraser shifted on his feet and brushed a finger over his eyebrow. “It’s what happened.”
“’Reasons that don’t need exploring at this juncture.’ That’s definitely been rehearsed.”
“Why does that matter?”
“It means you’re not giving me a straight answer.” Ray shrugged. “Doesn’t matter really. Not like I know you from Adam anyway.”
Fraser turned and started walking again, his back tense and straight. He ran another finger over his eyebrow and motioned for Ray to go into the break room.
“I’ll get you a cup,” Fraser said, reaching into a cabinet and taking down a Styrofoam cup. “I keep trying to get them to use paper, but the Leftenant says the budget doesn’t cover saving the environment and if I hate it so much not to use them.” He handed the cup to Ray. “It’s all we’ve got.”
Ray looked at him oddly and took the cup. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“It’s over there.” Fraser pointed at the old coffee pot and watched as Ray ambled over to it, pouring himself a cup. “Would you like anything to eat?”
“Got M&Ms in that machine over there?”
Fraser dug out a few quarters from his pocket and retrieved a package of M&Ms, handing it over to Ray. With a nod of thanks, Ray ripped open the package and added a few to his coffee.
“He’s a good kid,” Ray said after a few minutes of silence where he drank his coffee and Fraser looked everywhere but at Ray. “I know it doesn’t seem that way, but he is. Life ain’t easy where he’s from, you know. Shit happens that he can’t handle because he’s not like them. His sister’ll tell you the same thing.” Ray lifted his head and looked at Fraser intently. “He’s not like them. You got me?”
“Perhaps you should be telling Detective Vecchio this,” Fraser suggested.
“I don’t like that guy. He looks at Jesus and sees a poor Hispanic kid with a gun and baggy pants who probably deals drugs and is part of a gang. But he’s not. He’s a smart kid who does really well in his English classes and he comes to my classroom after school for as long as he can instead of goin’ home where the gangs and the drugs are.
“I’ve been around these kids for a long time, Constable. They’re not lost causes and they don’t deserve to be railroaded by the cops all the fucking time.”
“He brought a gun into a school, threatened a hallway full of students and teachers, attempted to shoot you, and shot twice at a window and the wall.”
“They were fucking with his boyfriend!”
Fraser shut his mouth and watched as Ray flushed and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t tell Detective Asshole that. Poor, Hispanic, and gay is even worse.”
“If it is his motive for his actions,” Fraser said quietly. “The police will find out.”
“Fuck,” Ray swore and kicked at the wall. “This is why I don’t fucking talk about my kids. I can’t keep my big mouth shut.”
“I don’t think you really gave anything away,” Fraser said helpfully. “I’m quite sure it would have come out eventually.”
“No pun intended?”
“Pardon?”
Ray waved his hand. “Never mind. Not important.”
“Ah,” Fraser said after a moment. “The pun would be that you just inadvertently revealed Jesus’s sexual orientation – or had him ‘come out’ which is the vernacular, I believe.”
“Are you for real?”
Fraser cocked his head. “In the physical sense?”
“That answers it for me.” Ray ran a hand through his hair and took another swig of his coffee. “You guys got a phone I can use?”
“I’m quite sure Detective Vecchio would be happy to allow you use of his phone.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Ray muttered, but motioned with his hand. “Lead on, Frase. Don’t want to get lost in the station.”
“It’s quite easy to navigate actually. It’s merely three lefts and a right back to Detective Vecchio’s desk.”
Ray shook his head and followed Fraser back to the squad room and over to Vecchio’s desk. Fraser whispered with Vecchio for a few moments, motioning over at Ray.
Vecchio scowled at Fraser. “Fine. Use the phone. What do I care?”
“Thanks,” Ray said with a tight smile. He sat down and dialed Stella’s number at her office. It was the middle of the day; hopefully she would be there.
“Did you get me any coffee?” asked Vecchio, leaning against the filing cabinet and watching the other Ray on the phone.
“I was unaware you wanted any,” Fraser said. “I will be right back with some coffee.”
“You’re not here to get me coffee,” Vecchio said firmly. “Stay and watch our teacher friend.”
Fraser looked over at Ray with a nod. “Alright. Thank you kindly.”
Vecchio rolled his eyes and made his way through the squad room, talking to people along the way. Fraser watched him as he went, trying not to listen to the conversation Ray was having with someone named Stella. It was not as easy as he thought.
“Stell, just listen to me. Jesus got in a bit of trouble. Yeah, yeah. I know. What’s new about that. Whatever you heard about today - ” Ray sighed heavily. “Yeah, Stell. It was me. Look, I had the vest on, okay! Focus, Stella. We’re talking about Jesus.”
Ray looked over at Fraser and shook his head in exasperation. “Yes, it involved Levon. Of course it involved Levon. Jesus’s fucking life revolves around Levon. You gotta go easy on the kid. He’s not a bad kid at all - ” Ray groaned lowly. “Stell, don’t do this. Just do the right thing, okay? I know you can make this go away if you really want to.”
Fraser looked down at the floor and began to count the scuff marks his boots had made on the dingy linoleum. Years of scuff marks, if he really looked.
“I’ll call you later. I might need your help with the bail.” Ray held the phone away from his ear, wincing as Stella yelled something at him. “Gotta go, Stell.”
Ray hung up the phone and sat back. “You can stop pretending you aren’t listening.”
“I wasn’t actually,” Fraser said immediately. “I was taking the opportunity to consider different soles for my boots. These leave scuff marks.”
Ray looked at the floor. “Oh yeah. I can see that.”
“The floor also needs to be cleaned.”
“I can see that as well.” Ray looked back at him. “Assistant State’s Attorney Stella Kowalski. You know her?”
“I believe so. She’s a very capable woman.”
“She’s my ex-wife. And she can make this thing go away if she really wanted to. Hates that I get myself involved in this shit though.” Ray ran a hand through his hair. “Capable is a good word for her, Fraser.”
Fraser sat down in Ray Vecchio's chair and rested his elbows on the desk, looking seriously at Ray. "You wouldn't use it though."
"What words I use for Stella these days are not fit for polite company," Ray said wryly. "She's a very capable attorney."
Vecchio strode back through the squad room, a Hispanic woman carrying a baby and a thin African-American teenager following him. Ray turned to look and was on his feet immediately.
The woman handed the baby to the teenager and Ray wrapped his arms around her tightly. Fraser got to his feet as well, standing politely by the desk.
"I'm so sorry, Rosa," Ray murmured into her hair. "I tried to stop him. But he's gonna be okay. I promise."
Rosa, obviously Jesus's sister Fraser surmised, just nodded and held him tightly. Ray reached out a hand to squeeze the teenager's shoulder.
"Hey, Levon."
"Hey, Mr. K." The teenager covered Ray's hand with his own and squeezed back. "He's really okay?"
Ray kept one arm around Rosa's shoulders. "I told you to have him come to me. I told you I would handle it."
"I didn't ask him to take no gun to school!" Levon protested, shifting the baby on his hip. "It was his damn choice."
Ray just sighed a little. "Rosa, this is Detective Vecchio. This is Rosa Diaz, Jesus's sister and legal guardian."
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Diaz." Vecchio shook her hand. "If you could come with me...?"
Rosa nodded and followed Vecchio over to the desk. Ray sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Let's go take a walk, Levon."
“Go with them, Benny,” Vecchio said from the desk. “If you could.”
“Certainly.” Fraser put his hat on his head. “Perhaps we should go to the break room.”
Ray shrugged a little. “It was so scenic and lovely the first time, I think I should visit again.”
Fraser motioned with his hand and led Ray and Levon through the squad room. No one said a word until Fraser shut the door to the break room.
“I didn’t know what he was planning,” Levon said immediately, shifting the baby again. “I would have stopped him.”
“Levon,” Ray said heavily. “Please don’t. No one in this room is stupid.”
The baby began to fuss and Levon sat down in one of the chairs. He dug a pacifier out of his pocket and gave it to her. “I never asked him to protect me.”
Ray sat down as well, smoothing a hand over the baby’s curls. “Yeah, but you knew he would when you told him.”
Levon shrugged a little. “Yeah.”
“May I ask what has been happening?”
Levon looked over at Fraser with narrowed eyes. “Who’re you?”
“Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police.”
“Just go with it,” Ray suggested. “He’s cool.”
“Just hasslin’ me again,” Levon said with a shrug. “They don’t like me with Jesus.”
“Who doesn’t?” asked Fraser, sitting down as well.
“I was involved in some bad shit,” Levon said quietly. “The guys I used to run with, they’re pissed I left and became a queer.”
“And they are harassing you?”
Levon looked at him oddly. “Are you kiddin’ me?”
“Fraser,” Ray said calmly. “It’s a little beyond harassment.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” asked Fraser. “They would have helped.”
Levon snorted and shook his head. “You don’t get it. These guys, they don’t exactly listen to the police.”
“Ah,” Fraser said with a nod. “Would you like a cola or a coffee?”
“You’re not gonna make me tell you?” Levon narrowed his eyes again.
Fraser shook his head. “I am not here in any official capacity. I’m merely your tour guide here at the 27th precinct.”
Levon looked relieved and sat back in the chair. “The baby’s name is Kia. She’s Rosa’s.”
“She’s very pretty,” Fraser said. “Cola or coffee? I’m afraid that’s all I can offer right now.”
“Some coffee’d be nice.” Levon looked over at Ray again. “It ain’t my fault.”
Ray shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. “That’s enough for now. Just let Fraser get you something to drink before he dies from lack of proper etiquette.”
Ray leaned against the station wall, a cigarette between his fingers. He smoked it slowly, feeling worse for smoking it, but needing it all the same. Levon was nice enough to provide it before he and Rosa took Jesus home for the night.
Ray was about fifteen hundred dollars poorer and waiting for a taxi to take him back to the school so he could get his car and finally go home. It felt like a couple years had passed since he’d left his apartment that morning.
Fraser pushed open the door, Dief at his heels. He started to head for his car, but stopped when he saw Ray there. He changed his path and headed for Ray.
“You don’t look like a smoker.”
Ray looked up and exhaled a plume of smoke. “Haven’t been for a couple of years. I quit for my 35th birthday.”
“Then why are you smoking now?” Fraser leaned against the wall next to him, trying to appear relaxed and natural.
“Because I’ve had a royally fucked up day, Fraser.” Ray tapped his cigarette, the ash falling onto his shoe.
Fraser pushed away from the wall. “May I offer you a ride, Mr. Kowalski?”
“Call me Ray, will you?”
“Very well. May I offer you a ride, Ray?”
Ray crushed his cigarette under his heel. “I’d appreciate that, Ben. My car is at the school.”
Fraser led Ray over to an old, beat-up station wagon and opened the door for him. Dief hopped into the back, curling up on a blanket that was already thoroughly covered in wolf hair.
“Nice ride.”
Fraser pursed his lips briefly. “I’m not that fond of driving. Ray insisted that I needed one after ... well, that’s not important at the moment. Also, I don’t live in the best of neighborhoods and this car is in no danger of being stolen.”
Ray paused, his hand on the frame above the window. “What happened that made Vecchio insist you get a car?”
“I blew his up. Again.”
“Oh. Well that makes sense.” Ray got into the car and did up his seat belt. “How do you blow up a car?”
“Any number of ways, really.” Fraser buckled himself in and slowly started the car, checking his mirrors repeatedly. “This last time involved a performance arsonist and the lake they call Michigan.”
“Lake Michigan.”
“Yes. The lake they call Michigan.”
Ray chuckled a little and looked out the window. “You’re something else, Ben.”
“I, ah, suppose so.”
Fraser drove slowly and carefully, double-checking every turn, every merge, every little thing until Ray thought he was going to scream so he just closed his eyes. It reminded him of driving with Stella.
“It was a compliment,” Ray said after awhile.
Fraser looked over at him and smiled. “I know.”
Ray drummed his fingers against his thigh, grinning with his eyes closed. “So Ben, what do you say to dinner?”
“It’s a fine meal. I try to eat it every day.” Fraser looked over at him, smiling a little himself.
Ray opened his eyes and looked over at him. “Okay. Then how about eating it with me tonight?”
Dief woofed from the back and Fraser looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Yes, I’m well aware of opinions on dinner. Need I remind you that you ate three soft pretzels while I was busy this afternoon?”
Dief moaned and pressed his snout into the blanket. Fraser looked back at the road. “You pay and you pay and you pay.”
“Your wolf is a little neurotic.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Fraser said with a sigh. “And Ray, I would love to have dinner with you, but tonight is not convenient for me.”
Ray nodded a little. “Gotcha. Another time then.”
“Tomorrow?” asked Fraser, hoping he didn’t sound too eager.
“Yeah,” Ray said. “Tomorrow sounds great.” He gestured at the back. “Does he come along?”
“Depends entirely on where you wish to eat.”
“Great. Just greatness.” Ray grinned at him. “Pick you up at 7?”
Fraser turned into the school parking lot. “I live at 225 West Racine. Apartment 6C.”
Ray made a face. “That’s one hell of a neighborhood to live in, Ben.”
“I find it to be a very friendly neighborhood,” Fraser said easily. “As a matter of fact, this is the second time I’ve lived there.”
“Did you move?”
“Not exactly,” Fraser said. “My building burned down. I didn’t see the point in getting a new place for some time. Ray suggested it about the time he convinced me to get a car.”
“So where did you live?”
“At the Canadian Consulate. Is that your car over there?”
Ray looked at the SUV Fraser was pointing at. “No. I hate those things. Make a right into the back lot.”
Fraser nodded and made the right. The only car back there was a sleek black muscle car. “That one?”
“That’s my girl,” Ray said with a smile. “She’s my pride and joy.”
“She’s a very nice car.” Fraser pulled into the spot next to it. “If you need to reach me, call the Consulate. I’ll be there all day tomorrow.”
Ray reached into his pocket for a scrap of paper and a pen. He scribbled down a phone number and handed it to Fraser. “And that’s how you can reach me.”
“Thank you kindly, Ray.”
Ray smiled at him. “Yeah, thank you kindly, Ben.” He turned to look at Dief. “Nice to meet ya, wolf.”
Dief barked and wagged his tail before settling back on his blanket.
Ray opened the door and got out. He leaned in again for a moment. “Hey, Ben. You look good in the uniform.”
Fraser felt his face grow red and he cracked his neck. “Ah, thank you kindly.”
Ray shut the door and walked off, hands in his pockets. He had to get his stuff from his office and get home to start grading.
Fraser watched him go, resolutely not looking at his ass. Dief woofed and gave a doggy laugh. He turned to look at him.
“Oh be quiet.”
Vecchio pushed his fries around with his fork, ignoring the looks Dief was giving him. Finally he set the fork down and looked at Fraser with a heavy sigh.
“Is something wrong with your fries, Ray?” Fraser asked, setting down his cup of tea.
“No.”
“Ah,” Fraser said, sipping his tea again. “Is something else the matter?”
“Do you think about him?”
“Who?”
“Me. Him. You know.”
Fraser set his tea down and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “No. I find it easier to continue this charade if I don’t.”
Vecchio looked a little hurt but nodded his agreement. “It’s the family that bothers me. The way they all look at me, like they want me to be him, but I’m never good enough.”
“We shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“How can you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Completely ignore the obvious.”
A World Within a World
“Just get in the car, Benny.”
Fraser looked at Vecchio over the hood of the Riv and put his hat on his head. “Understood, Ray.”
The seat folded forward for Dief and Vecchio slid behind the wheel, his fingers resting lightly on the leather. When Fraser was seated and buckled in, Vecchio pulled away from the curb and drove away from the diner.
“It’s not that simple,” Vecchio said as he made a turn. “I know maybe in your little Mountie universe where everyone shits rainbows and says thank you kindly it’s that simple, but in my world it’s not.”
“I have never, and will never, defecate rainbows, Ray.”
“It’s still not that simple, Benny!”
Fraser set his hat on the dashboard and looked out the window. “Perhaps not.”
“You’re my best friend so I gotta be honest with you about these things,” Vecchio said after a few more minutes of strained silence. “We can’t go running off and saving the world every time you think there’s some slight injustice. I know you want to and hell, if we were in Invuik, maybe we could, but this is Chicago. Everybody needs to be saved here and you’re just one person.”
“Actually, we’re two people,” said Fraser. “I am not in this alone.”
“Okay. A Mountie with a hero complex and a cop who plays chauffeur can’t save Chicago from itself.”
“You’re much more than a chauffeur, Ray. I believe you are selling yourself short. For example, you also have a gun.”
Vecchio rubbed his forehead with his hand and shook his head. “You’re something else, Benny. You’re definitely something else.”
“And it wasn’t a slight injustice,” Fraser continued, not hearing Vecchio. “It’s animal cruelty, Ray.”
“I know it is, Benny, and that’s why I called it in.” Dief whined behind him. “I called it in, Dief! Don’t you start too!”
“He’s merely voicing his opinion that a dog should not be left tied to a telephone pole when it is the middle of winter,” Fraser said, his voice frosty. “Which is exactly my opinion as well.”
“I called!” Vecchio turned another corner. “Just shut up for a few minutes, okay? Just be quiet and stop telling me I’m a horrible person.”
“I never said you were a horrible person, Ray.”
“Yeah, you did. Just not in so many words.”
Fraser fell silent and Dief let out a little huff, lying down with his head on his paws. Vecchio drove in silence through the streets of Chicago.
“Look,” Vecchio said after awhile. “Why don’t we go over to the station and run a few of the names for the Dinardo case? Get some addresses and start knocking on doors.”
“As you wish, Ray.” Fraser’s voice was neutral, his eyes locked on the road in front of them. Vecchio tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and headed back towards the station.
The crackle of the radio broke the silence, Frannie’s voice filling the car.
“All available units to Gage Park High School at 5630 South Rockwell. Report of a Hispanic male with a weapon. Possible hostage situation. Repeat, all available units to Gage Park High School.”
Vecchio looked over at Fraser who met his eyes and nodded. “Hold on, Dief!”
The wheels of the Riv squealed as Vecchio turned sharply, cutting across two lanes of traffic. Dief moaned in the backseat.
“You don’t get motion sickness,” Fraser said snappishly, turning to look at Dief.
“Puke in my car and I’ll make a wolf skin rug out of you,” Vecchio threatened, not for the first time. “Tell him not to puke in my car, Benny.”
“Just drive, Ray.” Fraser settled back, facing the windshield again, his face slightly flushed. The day was too long already, the snow calling to him. He wanted to pack Dief up and get out of the city so he could surround himself in the cold. Instead they drove towards a hostage situation at a high school, Dief moaning about motion sickness and Vecchio skidding across patches of ice.
The hallway stretched out before Ray as his students were pressed to the shabby linoleum, sobs and whispers reaching him as he slowly stood up, holding his hands above his head.
“Get back down!”
Ray shook his head. “I can’t do that, Jesus. I know you’re not gonna shoot me. If you were gonna shoot any of us, you would have already.”
Jesus’s hand shook as he aimed the gun at Ray’s head and pulled the trigger. Ray flinched as the bullet passed by him mere inches away and slammed into the concrete wall behind him.
“Get back down on the floor, Mr. K! I don’t wanna hurt you.”
Ray slowly walked towards him, stepping over students. “Just give me the gun. That’s all you gotta do. I’ll protect you.”
“You can’t fucking protect me!” Jesus shouted, jabbing with the gun. “No one fucking can!”
“Have I ever lied to you?” Ray asked, holding out his hand. “I’ve been your teacher for three years now and I haven’t lied to you yet. Why am I gonna lie to you now?”
“Because I have a fucking gun!”
Jesus fired at a window, the glass shattering amidst the screams of the students. Outside, police were gathering. He started to shake and look around nervously.
“Give me the gun,” Ray said again, mere feet away from Jesus. “That’s all you gotta do.”
Jesus was shaking now, sweat beading on his forehead. Ray could see cops at the other end of the hall and an odd spot of red that he couldn’t decipher without his glasses. He had to get the gun or else Jesus was going to be hurt.
“It’s me,” Ray said again, his voice quiet and low. “Mr. K.” His hand closed over the muzzle of the gun and he slowly pushed it down. “It’s me, Jesus.”
With a sob, Jesus relinquished his hold on the gun and Ray tossed it aside, wrapping his arms around the teenager and pulling him to the ground. The hallway was rushed with cops, arms pulling Jesus away from him and cuffing the boy.
“I’ll be at the station!” Ray shouted after him. “I promise!”
“You bet you will. What the hell was that?”
Ray turned to face the cop berating him, an Italian guy with ugly clothes. Next to him was the spot of red – a Mountie. Ray narrowed his eyes.
“I was trying to help him. He’s one of my students.”
“And he tried to fucking shoot you!”
“I’m wearing a vest,” Ray said, tugging up his shirt and showing the vest underneath. “Besides, I knew he wouldn’t do it.”
“So you’re psychic now?” Vecchio glared at the man, eyeing his worn blazer and blue jeans. “You a teacher or something?”
“Are you an ass?”
Vecchio bristled, looking over at Fraser, who was staring at the bullet hole in the wall, his head tilted to the side. “It’s a bullet hole, Fraser. You’ve seen them before.”
Fraser looked startled by Vecchio’s voice, but he hid it quickly, looking over at the teacher. He adjusted his hat and held out his hand. “Constable Benton Fraser.”
“Ray Kowalski,” Ray said, shaking quickly. “Look, you wanna tell me where you guys are taking Jesus or not? Cause I gotta be there to bail him out and call his sister.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Vecchio shook his head and chucked his thumb at the door. “Get your coat. We’ll take your statement at the station house.”
“What do I call you?”
“Call me Vecchio.”
Fraser felt the new Ray’s presence like a cut on the inside of his mouth, something to press his tongue against and think about when he was trying to distract himself from the rest of his life. It was disconcerting.
Dief whined at Fraser and went to hide under Frannie’s desk, leaving Fraser to his thoughts. Vecchio was interviewing Ray and Fraser felt his head start to hurt thinking about it.
Ray was leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his worn blazer thrown over the back of the chair. He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his spiky hair. Fraser could hear everything he was saying.
“He’s a good kid. He’s just been pushed too far recently. Gangs, drugs, everything. He’s a good kid. Look, when do I get to see him?”
“He’s talking to another officer right now,” Vecchio said absently, scribbling on a notepad. “So he’s a gang member?”
“No,” Ray said tightly. Fraser could see the tension in his shoulders. “And I’m not airing his dirty laundry so quit asking. I’m here to bail the kid out.”
“That’s not going to happen anytime soon, Mr. Kowalski.” Vecchio finally looked up from the notepad and saw Fraser holding his hat and staring at another wall. “You thirsty or something?”
Ray sat back and sighed heavily. “Sure. You got shitty coffee here?”
“It’s a police station. Fraser!” Vecchio waved a hand to him. “Can you take teacher man to get a cup of coffee while I go check on the kid?”
“Certainly, Ray,” Fraser said, walking towards the desk, his hat still in his hand. “I believe there is some fresh coffee made. Francesca mentioned something earlier to Detective Dewey.”
“Greatness,” Ray said, standing up and reaching for his blazer. He tugged it on with a fluid motion and followed Fraser through the crowded bullpen. “So you’re a Mountie?”
“Yes.”
“What’s a Mountie doing in Chicago?” Ray asked, his eyes skating over Frannie’s form as she was bent over a file cabinet.
“I first came to Chicago on the trail of my father’s killer and for reasons that don’t need exploring at this juncture, I remained attached as a liaison with the Canadian consulate.”
“That wasn’t rehearsed at all,” Ray said flippantly. “So where’s the shitty coffee?”
Fraser stopped abruptly and looked at him. “Pardon?”
“The coffee. I was promised shitty coffee by Detective Asshole while I waited to talk to Jesus.”
“It wasn’t rehearsed.” Fraser shifted on his feet and brushed a finger over his eyebrow. “It’s what happened.”
“’Reasons that don’t need exploring at this juncture.’ That’s definitely been rehearsed.”
“Why does that matter?”
“It means you’re not giving me a straight answer.” Ray shrugged. “Doesn’t matter really. Not like I know you from Adam anyway.”
Fraser turned and started walking again, his back tense and straight. He ran another finger over his eyebrow and motioned for Ray to go into the break room.
“I’ll get you a cup,” Fraser said, reaching into a cabinet and taking down a Styrofoam cup. “I keep trying to get them to use paper, but the Leftenant says the budget doesn’t cover saving the environment and if I hate it so much not to use them.” He handed the cup to Ray. “It’s all we’ve got.”
Ray looked at him oddly and took the cup. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“It’s over there.” Fraser pointed at the old coffee pot and watched as Ray ambled over to it, pouring himself a cup. “Would you like anything to eat?”
“Got M&Ms in that machine over there?”
Fraser dug out a few quarters from his pocket and retrieved a package of M&Ms, handing it over to Ray. With a nod of thanks, Ray ripped open the package and added a few to his coffee.
“He’s a good kid,” Ray said after a few minutes of silence where he drank his coffee and Fraser looked everywhere but at Ray. “I know it doesn’t seem that way, but he is. Life ain’t easy where he’s from, you know. Shit happens that he can’t handle because he’s not like them. His sister’ll tell you the same thing.” Ray lifted his head and looked at Fraser intently. “He’s not like them. You got me?”
“Perhaps you should be telling Detective Vecchio this,” Fraser suggested.
“I don’t like that guy. He looks at Jesus and sees a poor Hispanic kid with a gun and baggy pants who probably deals drugs and is part of a gang. But he’s not. He’s a smart kid who does really well in his English classes and he comes to my classroom after school for as long as he can instead of goin’ home where the gangs and the drugs are.
“I’ve been around these kids for a long time, Constable. They’re not lost causes and they don’t deserve to be railroaded by the cops all the fucking time.”
“He brought a gun into a school, threatened a hallway full of students and teachers, attempted to shoot you, and shot twice at a window and the wall.”
“They were fucking with his boyfriend!”
Fraser shut his mouth and watched as Ray flushed and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t tell Detective Asshole that. Poor, Hispanic, and gay is even worse.”
“If it is his motive for his actions,” Fraser said quietly. “The police will find out.”
“Fuck,” Ray swore and kicked at the wall. “This is why I don’t fucking talk about my kids. I can’t keep my big mouth shut.”
“I don’t think you really gave anything away,” Fraser said helpfully. “I’m quite sure it would have come out eventually.”
“No pun intended?”
“Pardon?”
Ray waved his hand. “Never mind. Not important.”
“Ah,” Fraser said after a moment. “The pun would be that you just inadvertently revealed Jesus’s sexual orientation – or had him ‘come out’ which is the vernacular, I believe.”
“Are you for real?”
Fraser cocked his head. “In the physical sense?”
“That answers it for me.” Ray ran a hand through his hair and took another swig of his coffee. “You guys got a phone I can use?”
“I’m quite sure Detective Vecchio would be happy to allow you use of his phone.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Ray muttered, but motioned with his hand. “Lead on, Frase. Don’t want to get lost in the station.”
“It’s quite easy to navigate actually. It’s merely three lefts and a right back to Detective Vecchio’s desk.”
Ray shook his head and followed Fraser back to the squad room and over to Vecchio’s desk. Fraser whispered with Vecchio for a few moments, motioning over at Ray.
Vecchio scowled at Fraser. “Fine. Use the phone. What do I care?”
“Thanks,” Ray said with a tight smile. He sat down and dialed Stella’s number at her office. It was the middle of the day; hopefully she would be there.
“Did you get me any coffee?” asked Vecchio, leaning against the filing cabinet and watching the other Ray on the phone.
“I was unaware you wanted any,” Fraser said. “I will be right back with some coffee.”
“You’re not here to get me coffee,” Vecchio said firmly. “Stay and watch our teacher friend.”
Fraser looked over at Ray with a nod. “Alright. Thank you kindly.”
Vecchio rolled his eyes and made his way through the squad room, talking to people along the way. Fraser watched him as he went, trying not to listen to the conversation Ray was having with someone named Stella. It was not as easy as he thought.
“Stell, just listen to me. Jesus got in a bit of trouble. Yeah, yeah. I know. What’s new about that. Whatever you heard about today - ” Ray sighed heavily. “Yeah, Stell. It was me. Look, I had the vest on, okay! Focus, Stella. We’re talking about Jesus.”
Ray looked over at Fraser and shook his head in exasperation. “Yes, it involved Levon. Of course it involved Levon. Jesus’s fucking life revolves around Levon. You gotta go easy on the kid. He’s not a bad kid at all - ” Ray groaned lowly. “Stell, don’t do this. Just do the right thing, okay? I know you can make this go away if you really want to.”
Fraser looked down at the floor and began to count the scuff marks his boots had made on the dingy linoleum. Years of scuff marks, if he really looked.
“I’ll call you later. I might need your help with the bail.” Ray held the phone away from his ear, wincing as Stella yelled something at him. “Gotta go, Stell.”
Ray hung up the phone and sat back. “You can stop pretending you aren’t listening.”
“I wasn’t actually,” Fraser said immediately. “I was taking the opportunity to consider different soles for my boots. These leave scuff marks.”
Ray looked at the floor. “Oh yeah. I can see that.”
“The floor also needs to be cleaned.”
“I can see that as well.” Ray looked back at him. “Assistant State’s Attorney Stella Kowalski. You know her?”
“I believe so. She’s a very capable woman.”
“She’s my ex-wife. And she can make this thing go away if she really wanted to. Hates that I get myself involved in this shit though.” Ray ran a hand through his hair. “Capable is a good word for her, Fraser.”
Fraser sat down in Ray Vecchio's chair and rested his elbows on the desk, looking seriously at Ray. "You wouldn't use it though."
"What words I use for Stella these days are not fit for polite company," Ray said wryly. "She's a very capable attorney."
Vecchio strode back through the squad room, a Hispanic woman carrying a baby and a thin African-American teenager following him. Ray turned to look and was on his feet immediately.
The woman handed the baby to the teenager and Ray wrapped his arms around her tightly. Fraser got to his feet as well, standing politely by the desk.
"I'm so sorry, Rosa," Ray murmured into her hair. "I tried to stop him. But he's gonna be okay. I promise."
Rosa, obviously Jesus's sister Fraser surmised, just nodded and held him tightly. Ray reached out a hand to squeeze the teenager's shoulder.
"Hey, Levon."
"Hey, Mr. K." The teenager covered Ray's hand with his own and squeezed back. "He's really okay?"
Ray kept one arm around Rosa's shoulders. "I told you to have him come to me. I told you I would handle it."
"I didn't ask him to take no gun to school!" Levon protested, shifting the baby on his hip. "It was his damn choice."
Ray just sighed a little. "Rosa, this is Detective Vecchio. This is Rosa Diaz, Jesus's sister and legal guardian."
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Diaz." Vecchio shook her hand. "If you could come with me...?"
Rosa nodded and followed Vecchio over to the desk. Ray sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Let's go take a walk, Levon."
“Go with them, Benny,” Vecchio said from the desk. “If you could.”
“Certainly.” Fraser put his hat on his head. “Perhaps we should go to the break room.”
Ray shrugged a little. “It was so scenic and lovely the first time, I think I should visit again.”
Fraser motioned with his hand and led Ray and Levon through the squad room. No one said a word until Fraser shut the door to the break room.
“I didn’t know what he was planning,” Levon said immediately, shifting the baby again. “I would have stopped him.”
“Levon,” Ray said heavily. “Please don’t. No one in this room is stupid.”
The baby began to fuss and Levon sat down in one of the chairs. He dug a pacifier out of his pocket and gave it to her. “I never asked him to protect me.”
Ray sat down as well, smoothing a hand over the baby’s curls. “Yeah, but you knew he would when you told him.”
Levon shrugged a little. “Yeah.”
“May I ask what has been happening?”
Levon looked over at Fraser with narrowed eyes. “Who’re you?”
“Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police.”
“Just go with it,” Ray suggested. “He’s cool.”
“Just hasslin’ me again,” Levon said with a shrug. “They don’t like me with Jesus.”
“Who doesn’t?” asked Fraser, sitting down as well.
“I was involved in some bad shit,” Levon said quietly. “The guys I used to run with, they’re pissed I left and became a queer.”
“And they are harassing you?”
Levon looked at him oddly. “Are you kiddin’ me?”
“Fraser,” Ray said calmly. “It’s a little beyond harassment.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” asked Fraser. “They would have helped.”
Levon snorted and shook his head. “You don’t get it. These guys, they don’t exactly listen to the police.”
“Ah,” Fraser said with a nod. “Would you like a cola or a coffee?”
“You’re not gonna make me tell you?” Levon narrowed his eyes again.
Fraser shook his head. “I am not here in any official capacity. I’m merely your tour guide here at the 27th precinct.”
Levon looked relieved and sat back in the chair. “The baby’s name is Kia. She’s Rosa’s.”
“She’s very pretty,” Fraser said. “Cola or coffee? I’m afraid that’s all I can offer right now.”
“Some coffee’d be nice.” Levon looked over at Ray again. “It ain’t my fault.”
Ray shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. “That’s enough for now. Just let Fraser get you something to drink before he dies from lack of proper etiquette.”
Ray leaned against the station wall, a cigarette between his fingers. He smoked it slowly, feeling worse for smoking it, but needing it all the same. Levon was nice enough to provide it before he and Rosa took Jesus home for the night.
Ray was about fifteen hundred dollars poorer and waiting for a taxi to take him back to the school so he could get his car and finally go home. It felt like a couple years had passed since he’d left his apartment that morning.
Fraser pushed open the door, Dief at his heels. He started to head for his car, but stopped when he saw Ray there. He changed his path and headed for Ray.
“You don’t look like a smoker.”
Ray looked up and exhaled a plume of smoke. “Haven’t been for a couple of years. I quit for my 35th birthday.”
“Then why are you smoking now?” Fraser leaned against the wall next to him, trying to appear relaxed and natural.
“Because I’ve had a royally fucked up day, Fraser.” Ray tapped his cigarette, the ash falling onto his shoe.
Fraser pushed away from the wall. “May I offer you a ride, Mr. Kowalski?”
“Call me Ray, will you?”
“Very well. May I offer you a ride, Ray?”
Ray crushed his cigarette under his heel. “I’d appreciate that, Ben. My car is at the school.”
Fraser led Ray over to an old, beat-up station wagon and opened the door for him. Dief hopped into the back, curling up on a blanket that was already thoroughly covered in wolf hair.
“Nice ride.”
Fraser pursed his lips briefly. “I’m not that fond of driving. Ray insisted that I needed one after ... well, that’s not important at the moment. Also, I don’t live in the best of neighborhoods and this car is in no danger of being stolen.”
Ray paused, his hand on the frame above the window. “What happened that made Vecchio insist you get a car?”
“I blew his up. Again.”
“Oh. Well that makes sense.” Ray got into the car and did up his seat belt. “How do you blow up a car?”
“Any number of ways, really.” Fraser buckled himself in and slowly started the car, checking his mirrors repeatedly. “This last time involved a performance arsonist and the lake they call Michigan.”
“Lake Michigan.”
“Yes. The lake they call Michigan.”
Ray chuckled a little and looked out the window. “You’re something else, Ben.”
“I, ah, suppose so.”
Fraser drove slowly and carefully, double-checking every turn, every merge, every little thing until Ray thought he was going to scream so he just closed his eyes. It reminded him of driving with Stella.
“It was a compliment,” Ray said after awhile.
Fraser looked over at him and smiled. “I know.”
Ray drummed his fingers against his thigh, grinning with his eyes closed. “So Ben, what do you say to dinner?”
“It’s a fine meal. I try to eat it every day.” Fraser looked over at him, smiling a little himself.
Ray opened his eyes and looked over at him. “Okay. Then how about eating it with me tonight?”
Dief woofed from the back and Fraser looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Yes, I’m well aware of opinions on dinner. Need I remind you that you ate three soft pretzels while I was busy this afternoon?”
Dief moaned and pressed his snout into the blanket. Fraser looked back at the road. “You pay and you pay and you pay.”
“Your wolf is a little neurotic.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Fraser said with a sigh. “And Ray, I would love to have dinner with you, but tonight is not convenient for me.”
Ray nodded a little. “Gotcha. Another time then.”
“Tomorrow?” asked Fraser, hoping he didn’t sound too eager.
“Yeah,” Ray said. “Tomorrow sounds great.” He gestured at the back. “Does he come along?”
“Depends entirely on where you wish to eat.”
“Great. Just greatness.” Ray grinned at him. “Pick you up at 7?”
Fraser turned into the school parking lot. “I live at 225 West Racine. Apartment 6C.”
Ray made a face. “That’s one hell of a neighborhood to live in, Ben.”
“I find it to be a very friendly neighborhood,” Fraser said easily. “As a matter of fact, this is the second time I’ve lived there.”
“Did you move?”
“Not exactly,” Fraser said. “My building burned down. I didn’t see the point in getting a new place for some time. Ray suggested it about the time he convinced me to get a car.”
“So where did you live?”
“At the Canadian Consulate. Is that your car over there?”
Ray looked at the SUV Fraser was pointing at. “No. I hate those things. Make a right into the back lot.”
Fraser nodded and made the right. The only car back there was a sleek black muscle car. “That one?”
“That’s my girl,” Ray said with a smile. “She’s my pride and joy.”
“She’s a very nice car.” Fraser pulled into the spot next to it. “If you need to reach me, call the Consulate. I’ll be there all day tomorrow.”
Ray reached into his pocket for a scrap of paper and a pen. He scribbled down a phone number and handed it to Fraser. “And that’s how you can reach me.”
“Thank you kindly, Ray.”
Ray smiled at him. “Yeah, thank you kindly, Ben.” He turned to look at Dief. “Nice to meet ya, wolf.”
Dief barked and wagged his tail before settling back on his blanket.
Ray opened the door and got out. He leaned in again for a moment. “Hey, Ben. You look good in the uniform.”
Fraser felt his face grow red and he cracked his neck. “Ah, thank you kindly.”
Ray shut the door and walked off, hands in his pockets. He had to get his stuff from his office and get home to start grading.
Fraser watched him go, resolutely not looking at his ass. Dief woofed and gave a doggy laugh. He turned to look at him.
“Oh be quiet.”
Vecchio pushed his fries around with his fork, ignoring the looks Dief was giving him. Finally he set the fork down and looked at Fraser with a heavy sigh.
“Is something wrong with your fries, Ray?” Fraser asked, setting down his cup of tea.
“No.”
“Ah,” Fraser said, sipping his tea again. “Is something else the matter?”
“Do you think about him?”
“Who?”
“Me. Him. You know.”
Fraser set his tea down and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “No. I find it easier to continue this charade if I don’t.”
Vecchio looked a little hurt but nodded his agreement. “It’s the family that bothers me. The way they all look at me, like they want me to be him, but I’m never good enough.”
“We shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“How can you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Completely ignore the obvious.”