ds_flashfiction | Look what I did!

the-star-fish.livejournal.com posting in

I actually finished something!

"Here."

I look at the joint in front of me. The fingers holding it belong to one of the low-lifes I'm here to bust, but the time isn't right yet. I have to stay in character, wait for the signal. And since my character's a down-on-his-luck junkie who'd never turn down a hit of anything ... I reach out and take it, hold it to my lips, and ... inhale.

I figure I'll take a couple hits, enough to get him to stop looking at me so suspiciously, and then I'll be in. Fake the rest of it, wait for the word. What I don't figure on is how fucking long it's been since I got stoned, and how good the weed is. In two hits, I'm flying.

When the signal comes, though, I pull it together enough to tackle my guy and sit on him until I get backup. No gun, no cuffs, and he's a wiry bastard -- almost throws me off a couple of times. Then I hear a familiar voice yelling "Freeze! Chicago PD!" and I remember I forgot to say that part.

I look up and it's Huey, thank God, and right behind him I see red. Fraser's all worried-looking and rumpled, like he's been fighting or something. Looks mighty good on him. Mighty good, mighty fine. Mmm-hmm.

"Vecchio," Huey says, maybe not for the first time, but I'm still getting used to it so it doesn't always take.

"Hi, Jack!" I say, 'cause I always wanted to. "Can you Mirandarize this guy for me? And cuffs. Cuffs'd be good."

"Sure, Ray," Jack says, and then Fraser leans over to help me up.

"Thanks, guys," I say. "You're the best. I really mean it." I grab Fraser's hand and pull myself upright. Sort of.

"Ray?" Fraser says, and whoa, this walking shit's harder than I thought. Leaning's good, though, so I do that, wrap my arm around his neck while I'm at it. Fraser lets me lean all I want as he guides me out through the people and tables and broken glass. I fake a limp when people start looking at us funny, and Fraser just tightens his grip on my waist and keeps walking.

"Love you, man," I say when we get outside and around the corner. He props me up against a wall, pulls out a flashlight from somefuckingwhere, and shines it in my eyes.

"Hey!" I yell, because I'm already half-blind anyway, no need to take it to the next level.

"Sorry," he says, but he doesn't sound it. "Forgive me for asking, Ray, but are you ... under the influence?"

"Stoned, Fraser," I say. "S-T-oned. Baked. Fried. Crispy like a critter. Poke me with a fork, I'm done. As a three dollar bill."

"What?"

I try to go over what I just said, even though I can hardly remember what the hell it was. "What what?"

"What does a three dollar bill have to do with it?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Nevermind. Can you drive me home?"

"Certainly," he says, looking really surprised. "Do you need to check in with Leftenant Welsh?"

"Lieutenant, Fraser. Say it right once for me."

His lips purse up like he's trying not to laugh. "There's nothing wrong with the way I say it."

"Please?"

"Ray."

"Not even close."

"Ray."

"Say it, Fraser, or we're never leaving this alley."

He sighs. "Very well. Lieu --"

Quick like a bunny, I grab his leather strap and yank. He falls against me and I kiss him in mid-"oooo." He struggles and manages to pull away, much to my disappointment.

"Ray," he says, and now he's pissed. "I thought we had an agreement."

Oh yeah, that's right. We did. Not in public, and especially not in public with everyone we know right around the corner.

"Sorry," I say, and I really am. Life's hard enough when you're us, and I don't want to fuck it up so we're not ... us ... anymore. I try to say that, but what comes out is "Love you."

His face softens a little. "I know you do."

"Pot makes me horny."

"I guessed that," he says, and the not-smile's back. "Let's go home."

"Can we stop at the Quickie-Mart on the way? I'm out of Doritos."

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

"I should arrest you, you know," he says as we walk to the car.

"Hey, line-of-duty stuff," I say. "Not my fault." I pass him the keys so he can unlock it, and we both get in. I rest my head against the back of the seat and close my eyes. When I open them again, we're in front of my building and he's got my door open so I can get out.

"Dammit, Fraser," I say, and he holds up a grocery sack. I can see the red plastic corner of the Doritos bag sticking out.

"Greater love hath no man," he says with a grin, and holds out his hand for me. I take it and haul myself out of the car. He gives me a little hand-squeeze before he lets go, and I follow him up the stairs with a smile on my face.

I'll have to think of a way to thank him later. Shouldn't be hard.

Or ... maybe it should. Be hard, I mean.

"Ray, what on earth are you giggling about?"

"Wait and see, Fraser; wait and see."

~end~

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Current Music: "I wanna run through the halls of my high school..."