ds_flashfiction | Halloween

Welsh strode out of his office and into the bullpen. “Listen up!” He looked around. “This is your one and only reminder about the precinct’s first annual Halloween party. It is tomorrow. Be there. Be prompt. Be in costume.”

Fraser was about to ask whether or not he was invited when Ray piped up.

“All of us, sir?”

“Vecchio, are you or are you not in this room? Yes, all of you.”

Fraser began to raise his hand “Constable, you’re already in costume. And yes, you’re invited.”

Dewey called out “And you, sir? You have to dress up?”

Welsh fidgeted, looking around the room. “Yeah, me too. If anyone else would like to add their brilliant commentary regarding the upcoming festivities, I’ll be in my office. My locked office.” He strode away, turning his head long enough to say “Yes, you too Miss Vecchio. And whatever you wear had better be appropriate for a function that is paid for by the City of Chicago.”

Fraser turned to Ray and said, “Do you have any costume ideas yet?” He frowned. “I must confess, I’ve never dressed up for Halloween. Trick-or-treating is a rather daunting task in the Yukon.”

Ray squinted at him. “No neighbors, huh?”

“Yes, and any candy you might get would undoubtedly freeze.”

Ray nodded. “No point then.” He shrugged. “I’m drawing a blank on the costume thing. I’ve already been everything you can be by raiding your closet.” He ticked off on his fingers, “hobo, scarecrow, pirate, punk…”

Fraser thought Ray would make a very fetching pirate, but declined to mention it out loud. “Well, I’m sure we’ll think of something.” He turned to leave. “Dief, come. We have a lot of work to do.” Diefenbaker whined and looked towards Francesca. “I have told you repeatedly that chocolate is poisonous to dogs. This fact does not miraculously change just because it’s Halloween.”

Back at the consulate, Fraser found himself flipping through a Halloween catalog that had come in the mail.

“Oh, that’s a poor excuse for a ghost. There’s no need to lose your dignity like that.”

“Dad, unless you have a costume suggestion, could you kindly leave?”

His father looked affronted. “I’m just making conversation.”

“I don’t suppose you’re dressing up?”

“I’m a ghost, son. That would be a tad redundant.”

Fraser sighed, and continued looking. A moment later, the phone rang.

“Frase. You are talking to a fucking genius.”

“Ray?”

“What other geniuses do you know?”

“Well, I did know a fellow in Medicine Hat who was a member of Mensa. It was odd, though. He-“

“Fraser! Focus for a minute. I. Am. A. Genius.”

“Have you thought of a costume?”

“Yep.”

Silence, as Ray was apparently waiting for the sheer magnitude of this decision-making process to sink in.

“And?”

“I’m not wearing a costume. I’m going as myself.” Ray began to laugh.

“Ah. Are you sure? Lieutenant Welsh was quite clear.”

Ray was outright giggling now. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure.”

Fraser didn’t really know how to react to that. He was fairly certain that Ray wasn’t fishing for a lecture on following the orders of one’s superior officer. “Well. See you tomorrow, then.”

Ray guffawed. “You got that right, Benton-buddy.”

Fraser hung up the phone, unsure of what to make of the conversation.

About an hour later, he sat straight up in bed. “Aha!” Dief grumbled inquisitively from the corner. “Yes, I’ve thought of something. It’s rather clever, if I do say so myself.” Dief whined, and settled back down to sleep. “Well, I’d like to see you think of something. Perhaps a nice knitted cap and sweater?” Dief sighed, and rolled over to go back to sleep. “That’s what I thought” He smiled to himself in the darkness.

The Next Day…

Fraser was putting the finishing touches on his costume when he heard a knock on the door. Ah, that must be Ray. He opened the door. “Ray! I…goodness.”

Ray was wearing an exceedingly odd outfit. He had on a brightly patterned purple and black button-down silk shirt over a black tank top and purple dress pants. His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing a gold chain that Fraser hadn’t seen him wearing before. But he had seen…”Oh dear. I assume Francesca let you raid Ray Vecchio’s closet?”

Ray cracked up. “I told you I wasn’t going in costume! I’m going as myself.” He made a few gestures that Fraser assumed were in imitation of Ray, though they were somewhat exaggerated.

Ray stopped and looked at him. “You’re not in costume. Is the hat the costume?”

“Well, yes. Partly.”

Ray looked closer. “Did you dye your hair gray?”

“Sprayed, actually.”

“I don’t get it. What are you?”

Fraser could feel the laughter bubbling up inside him. He bit his lip, to refrain from embarrassing himself.

“I’m a ghost.”

Ray blinked a couple of times. “Freak.”

His father frowned at him. “That’s a poor joke, son.”

Fraser just grinned and adjusted the fur hat. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, we’re out of here.”

Fraser waved jauntily to his father as they left the office.