ds_flashfiction | Seven Deadly Sins Challenge (Reply)

So, I see lust, greed, pride... and what do I wind up writing?

Vecchio in Vegas/Envy

Slight spoliers to Ladies Man. References to a few other RayK episodes. Many thanks to

brooklinegirl for the fast, fast, fast beta, even though I've teased her mercilessly about her Sentinel fic. Loooooooooove roooooooooooo.

Envy

There's a quiet knock at the door to his office. Ray leans back into the plush leather of his chair, sliding his finger under the lip of his desk and pressing the door buzzer.

The doors swing inward slowly; the only sound is the faint mechanical hum of the doors moving and Nero's quiet footsteps on the plush carpet.

Nero takes three steps into the office and stops, just like Ray instructed him to do all those months ago. "Morning, Boss," he says quietly.

Ray watches him and says nothing. He waits until just enough time has passed for Nero to feel slightly apprehensive, then he waves a hand slowly, motioning Nero towards him.

"I brought your coffee, just the way you like it, with the milk on the side."

The silver tray clatters as it hits the edge of his mahogany desk, and Ray silently flicks his eyes toward the tray and then back to Nero's flushed face.

Nero's hands dart out and he stills the china pot from its rattling on the metal. "Sorry, Boss," he mumbles.

Ray narrows his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. "The papers?" he says evenly.

"Yeah, yeah. The papers." Nero fumbles with the newspapers he was holding under his arm, looking to Ray for a nod before walking over to place the newspapers neatly on the edge of Ray's desk.

Ray glances at the newspapers before looking up at Nero, who backs quickly out of Ray's personal space.

"You need anything else, Mr. Languistini?" Nero asks nervously.

"I'll let you know if I do," Ray says, and Nero takes his cue and backs out of the office with a quick nod, pulling the door shut tightly behind him.

Finally alone, Ray breathes out a heavy sigh, but says nothing. ("They can hear everything you say," he was warned before he took this gig. "Everything. You're never alone, and don't ever think otherwise.") Ignoring his coffee, he slides the stack of papers in front of him and starts going through them.

New York Times. LA Times. Miami Herald. He shoves them to the side as the logo of the Chicago Sun-Times catches his eyes, the headline glaring at him as if it were written in bright yellow and surrounded by flashing lights.

Beth Bottrelle Acquitted: Detective Ray Vecchio Credited With Saving An Innocent Woman's Life.

"Well, well, Detective Vecchio," Ray says quietly. "Looks like you've been busy."

Ray flips to page three and scans the article briefly, key phrases imprinting themselves in his brain:

Ms. Bottrelle first arrested by Detective Raymond Kowalski...

Case was recently solved by Detective Ray Vecchio and Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP...

Detective Kowalski could not be reached for comment...

"Couldn't be reached for comment, could you, Kowalski," Ray mutters. "I wonder why that is?"

Blowing out a disgusted breath, Ray tosses the paper to the top of his desk harder than necessary and watches it sail across the gleaming wood, fluttering into a mess of loose pages on the floor.

Fucking Kowalski, making the news with Fraser again. Fraser - his partner. His friend.

From the day Ray started this gig he told Nero, "When you bring me my coffee every day, you bring me the newspapers of every major city in America, you got it? I wanna make sure I know what's going on in my towns."

Nero babbled nervously and nodded, and after that Ray got his stack of papers every morning with his milk and coffee.

His first week on the job, Ray flipped open the paper, saw an article about a performance arsonist and a picture of his Riv (his Riv! His fucking Riv!) in the water, and had his finger on the button to call out his first hit on Stanley fucking Kowalski.

He took a deep breath though, and told himself: hey. Ok. So the guy's a crappy driver. What do you care? You got a limo now with a guy to drive it for you. The Riv was old anyway. Let the Polack crash it up.

As the weeks went on, the news got more exciting for Detective Vecchio and Constable Fraser. Russian spies and Detective Vecchio being investigated for murder (yeah, good work there Kowalski. Nice way to trash the good Vecchio name). A blue flu at the station and a ghost ship at the docks. Millionaire pretzel vendors, and poker games with Lady Shoes.

And every time Ray saw his own name in the paper he had to grit his teeth and clench his hands into fists.

One time he went to the surveillance room in the casino, and found a guy that was trying to scam the casino out of money. Ray made his call and watched as two of the security guards tapped the guy on the shoulder and escorted him out of the casino. Then he watched as those same guards took the guy to a private room and proceeded to break his nose and jaw and face.

Ray stood watching casually that night, with his hands behind his back, but in his head it was him doing the hitting and he was hitting Kowalski. Kowalski with the blond hair and the queer jewelry and Fraser. Kowalski with the black GTO and Ray's life.

Sometimes Ray would see his name in the paper, and he'd start feeling insecure. He'd call Nero and tell him he was waiting in his room, and to send one of the women to him.

Whatever girl Nero got for him was always tall and beautiful with long dark hair, and Ray would lay her down on the bed and kiss her breasts and slide his fingers inside her. He'd bite the skin on her shoulder and grip her waist with his hands, and when he was hard inside her he wasn't thinking about who he was or wasn't, or who was or wasn't him.

He wouldn't think about Fraser, and how Ray had left him in Chicago. How Ray wound up doing the same thing to Fraser that everyone else in his life had done before. Ray wouldn't think about how maybe this new guy wouldn't do that to Fraser when it came his time to leave, and he wouldn't think about how that seemed to piss Ray off more than it made him happy.

Ray would just finish fucking whatever girl was in his bed, and after he came he'd roll off her and stand up, slipping on the silk robe hanging on the bedpost and leaving her there in the bed as he left the room.

Those days were nice. Those days Ray didn't care so much that he wasn't Ray Vecchio, and he didn't hate Kowalski quite as much for being Ray Vecchio when he wasn't around.

"So I'm thinking today is gonna be one of those days," Ray says to himself now, reaching over and grabbing the phone off the cradle. It connects him automatically to Nero, and he explains in a few short words what he wants and where.

"You got it, Boss. Ten minutes."

Ray drops the phone back down and reaches out for his cup. So maybe Kowalski has his life now, but the life he wound up with definitely has some perks of its own.

Holding the china cup in his hand, Ray tips some milk into his coffee and smiles.