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ds_flashfictionIt's all because of that hug from Starman..... This started out as a humor piece and suddenly took a turn for the sad, so I had to give it a happy ending. :D (806 words)
"You remember Ray Vecchio, Ian," Fraser says without batting an eye.
Now I look at this guy and think, okay, so he’s not really Ray Vecchio, but that’s cool. After all, the real Ray Vecchio hates me and this guy’s much better looking. Also he probably doesn’t want to strangle me which is always a plus.
"Yeah, sure," I say. "Now, Fraser, you know I wouldn’t come to you unless it was a matter of national security. I’m with the CIA now. It’s all very hush hush."
"Ian, I hardly think the CIA would hire a Canadian Citizen, and I don’t think you meet the academic requirements which I’m sure are very strenuous."
The blonde Vecchio is looking at the two of us like he can’t figure out which is the village idiot. I sigh and try to think of another tact.
"Wait. Ian, Ian, Ian MacDonald! Ian blew-up-the-Riv MacDonald?" Ray says quickly.
I look at him, smirk, and say, "Well actually, you were the one that blew it up, Detective Vecchio. I’m surprised you would forget considering how much fuss you made about it at the time."
Ray squints his eyes at me and grabs Fraser’s arm hauling him a few steps away. If I lean a little bit I can still hear them.
"Fraser, I read Vecchio’s files on this nut. I mean that thing with the aliens, what the hell was that all about?"
"Well, Ray, you see it was a simple misunderstanding involving..."
"I don’t need the whole story, Frase. This guy is trouble with a capitol T and if you think he’s getting anywhere near my GTO you are sorely mistaken."
"Well, the Rivera wasn’t entirely Ian’s fault, Ray. After all, you also have destroyed a Riv."
"Ah ha!" I say jumping in. "See! Please, Fraser, I need your help. You’re the only one who ever believes me."
"Gee, I wonder why," Ray says dryly, but I ignore him.
Fraser sighs and looks at me like he’s trying to decide what to do. That doesn’t make any sense. Fraser always knows what to do. He’s perfect. He’s not a screw up like me.
"Fraser?" I ask softly.
"Ian, I want to believe you. I do. It’s just sometimes it’s hard for me to distinguish what the right thing is from your fevered imagination."
I’m stunned. Fraser doesn’t believe me. For the first time ever, he doesn’t believe me. I’ve lied all my life. No one ever listens to me anymore. Not since mom died. When I met Fraser, it was like having mom all over again. Finally, someone would believe me. Only now I’ve gone and screwed that up too. The one person on the planet I could depend on is looking at me with... pity.
"I’m... I’m sorry to have bothered you. I’ll just go now," I say.
I step around the bright red wall in front of me but I keep my eyes to the floor. I feel broken and bloody. Running for my life from Brock, standing in front of that judge and telling the truth for once, the three months I spent in jail, none of that has ever made me feel this destroyed. God, I’m useless.
I step through the doorway and shut my eyes tight against the bright and cheery sunshine. It would be much more fitting if it was pouring out, but no the world has to go on happy as a clam. I guess it’s the sun that’s making my eyes sting and water.... Damn now I’m even lying to myself. I’m stopped up short by red wool. A pair of strong hands grab my elbows to keep me from falling flat on my ass. I look up with hope. He’s changed his mind! He’s changed his mind!
It’s a stranger’s face I see, but the eyes are soft underneath that Stetson.
"Are you all right?" he asks softly.
"Uh, yeah. Are you a friend of Constable Fraser?"
"Well, I work with him at the Consulate. I’m Constable Turnbull."
"I’m Ian, Ian MacDonald. I was just stopping by to see Fraser and Vecchio. I saved their lives once, you know."
"Really!" he says and his whole face lights up with admiration.
"Well, yeah, it’s an interesting story involving an international smuggling ring, the British secret service and a five thousand year old mummy."
"Oh my!"
I look up at him 'cause the guy is just big. The brim of his hat is shading me from the cheery sunshine. He looks... nice.
"You know Turnbull, if you’re not too busy, I could tell you the whole story. I mean, any friend of Fraser’s is a friend of mine. Let me buy you a cup of coffee."
"I’d like that very much, Mr. MacDonald," he says and actually blushes.
"Call me Ian."
"You remember Ray Vecchio, Ian," Fraser says without batting an eye.
Now I look at this guy and think, okay, so he’s not really Ray Vecchio, but that’s cool. After all, the real Ray Vecchio hates me and this guy’s much better looking. Also he probably doesn’t want to strangle me which is always a plus.
"Yeah, sure," I say. "Now, Fraser, you know I wouldn’t come to you unless it was a matter of national security. I’m with the CIA now. It’s all very hush hush."
"Ian, I hardly think the CIA would hire a Canadian Citizen, and I don’t think you meet the academic requirements which I’m sure are very strenuous."
The blonde Vecchio is looking at the two of us like he can’t figure out which is the village idiot. I sigh and try to think of another tact.
"Wait. Ian, Ian, Ian MacDonald! Ian blew-up-the-Riv MacDonald?" Ray says quickly.
I look at him, smirk, and say, "Well actually, you were the one that blew it up, Detective Vecchio. I’m surprised you would forget considering how much fuss you made about it at the time."
Ray squints his eyes at me and grabs Fraser’s arm hauling him a few steps away. If I lean a little bit I can still hear them.
"Fraser, I read Vecchio’s files on this nut. I mean that thing with the aliens, what the hell was that all about?"
"Well, Ray, you see it was a simple misunderstanding involving..."
"I don’t need the whole story, Frase. This guy is trouble with a capitol T and if you think he’s getting anywhere near my GTO you are sorely mistaken."
"Well, the Rivera wasn’t entirely Ian’s fault, Ray. After all, you also have destroyed a Riv."
"Ah ha!" I say jumping in. "See! Please, Fraser, I need your help. You’re the only one who ever believes me."
"Gee, I wonder why," Ray says dryly, but I ignore him.
Fraser sighs and looks at me like he’s trying to decide what to do. That doesn’t make any sense. Fraser always knows what to do. He’s perfect. He’s not a screw up like me.
"Fraser?" I ask softly.
"Ian, I want to believe you. I do. It’s just sometimes it’s hard for me to distinguish what the right thing is from your fevered imagination."
I’m stunned. Fraser doesn’t believe me. For the first time ever, he doesn’t believe me. I’ve lied all my life. No one ever listens to me anymore. Not since mom died. When I met Fraser, it was like having mom all over again. Finally, someone would believe me. Only now I’ve gone and screwed that up too. The one person on the planet I could depend on is looking at me with... pity.
"I’m... I’m sorry to have bothered you. I’ll just go now," I say.
I step around the bright red wall in front of me but I keep my eyes to the floor. I feel broken and bloody. Running for my life from Brock, standing in front of that judge and telling the truth for once, the three months I spent in jail, none of that has ever made me feel this destroyed. God, I’m useless.
I step through the doorway and shut my eyes tight against the bright and cheery sunshine. It would be much more fitting if it was pouring out, but no the world has to go on happy as a clam. I guess it’s the sun that’s making my eyes sting and water.... Damn now I’m even lying to myself. I’m stopped up short by red wool. A pair of strong hands grab my elbows to keep me from falling flat on my ass. I look up with hope. He’s changed his mind! He’s changed his mind!
It’s a stranger’s face I see, but the eyes are soft underneath that Stetson.
"Are you all right?" he asks softly.
"Uh, yeah. Are you a friend of Constable Fraser?"
"Well, I work with him at the Consulate. I’m Constable Turnbull."
"I’m Ian, Ian MacDonald. I was just stopping by to see Fraser and Vecchio. I saved their lives once, you know."
"Really!" he says and his whole face lights up with admiration.
"Well, yeah, it’s an interesting story involving an international smuggling ring, the British secret service and a five thousand year old mummy."
"Oh my!"
I look up at him 'cause the guy is just big. The brim of his hat is shading me from the cheery sunshine. He looks... nice.
"You know Turnbull, if you’re not too busy, I could tell you the whole story. I mean, any friend of Fraser’s is a friend of mine. Let me buy you a cup of coffee."
"I’d like that very much, Mr. MacDonald," he says and actually blushes.
"Call me Ian."
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