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lost_theplot[Unknown site tag]
Pairing: F/K
Rating: PG
Notes: This is my first post at ds_flashfiction. Un-betaed, sorry for
any mistakes.
A
Little Like Something
“That is to say, if you wouldn’t mind – if you are
available, we could have dinner around seven-thirty and perhaps discuss the
details of the Brentwood case.”
That ASA Fraser looked uncomfortable would be an
understatement. Ray mildly watched him bite his lip, straighten his red tie,
and smooth a thumb across an eyebrow to his temple.
He really, really wanted to follow the path of that thumb
with his own fingers. And then maybe his tongue.
Ray felt himself flush at his drifting thoughts. Fraser
was leaning over his desk. He could partially see the pale, smooth skin of
Fraser’s throat, though the top button was primly buttoned. The proximity was
wreaking havoc on his mental capabilities, which were often poor to begin with.
“Well, I would – ”
The door burst open. Ray leaned into the back of his
chair, and Fraser tripled the amount of space that had existed between them.
“Lieu, reporters are swarming around the building about the Brentwood shooting,
and you really need to come fend them off…Welsh’s having a hell of a time.”
Stella stopped to catch her breath and noticed Fraser.
“Sorry for interrupting, Mr. Fraser,” She said, before
shooting Ray a look that spoke volumes.
“Oh, it’s quite all right.” Fraser replied, before looking
out the window at the reporters rapidly amassing in front of the 2-7. Stella
added a suggestive little eyebrow wiggle, and Ray felt as though they were back
in junior high, communicating telepathically.
What’s going on? said Stella’s arched brow.
Nothing, none of your business, scram, said Ray’s
slow, innocuous blink.
It looked like something, said the
mischievous, curled corner of Stella’s pink lips.
Nothing. Back off, or I’ll make you take the first
stakeout shift with Dewey, said Ray’s slit-eyed glare.
Stella pursed her
lips into a little ‘o’ of defeat and glared right back before averting her
eyes. “Damn reporters,” Ray muttered under his breath. “Hey look,” He turned to
Fraser. “Please, sit down, I’ll be right back. I’m really sorry about this.”
“Ah, I suppose I can wait for a moment,” Fraser smiled –
Jesus, what a smile – and sat down, placing his briefcase at his side.
When Ray opened the door, Diefenbaker shot in and
immediately curled at Fraser’s feet, giving his well-polished shoes a happy
lick. Ray speculated what would happen if he were to sic the 2-7’s unofficial
lupine-canine symbol (oh no, mascot was too degrading a term for this proud
half-wolf) on the press. With that image in mind, he pasted on a cordial smile
and went out onto the front steps.
*
“He’s so attached to you,” Detective Kowalski sounded
amused. “It makes sense though, since you helped Ray name him. Ray grumbles
every day about finding him and bringing him here, but Dief still lives on the
precinct’s donuts and Ray’s M&Ms.”
“I’m surprised an animal of his breed and background would
adopt such a questionable diet,” Benton said. Dief let out a low rumble.
Detective Kowalski smiled. “You try and deny him when he
uses that cute look on you. Well, Welsh and I have a jewelry store break-in to
investigate, so I’ll see you around.”
Benton
listened as her steps faded away. Detective Kowalski was certainly an
attractive and poised woman…it was effortless to imagine how she and Lieutenant
Kowalski had once been a couple. He sighed, wondering what he was doing, thinking
unattainable thoughts about an unattainable man. Lieutenant Kowalski seemed
most unquestionably heterosexual, but at times Benton felt…he didn’t even
precisely know what he felt. Just sometimes he and Lieutenant Kowalski would
brush arms or unintentionally hold gazes too long until one of them twigged.
The way the lieutenant looked with his dress-shirt sleeves loosely rolled up,
tie undone, blond hair in spikes, and wearing the black-framed glasses that he
had confessed to abhorring…
Diefenbaker nudged his hand, and he quickly came back to
his senses. “You are quite shameless in your bids for attention, aren’t you?”
Benton smiled and ran his fingers through Dief’s thick coat as the half-wolf
whuffed in placid agreement.
*
Ray’s “be right back” turned out to be about a half-hour
longer than he had intended. By the time he got back to his office, he already
knew Fraser was gone.
“He’s the ASA,” Ray mumbled to himself as he walked back
out of his empty office. “You think he can just sit on his ass and wait for
you? D-U-M, dumb.”
“Vecchio!” He bellowed. “Either!”
“Yeah?” Frannie snapped her gum, fingers stilling on the
keyboard. Her brother didn’t bother looking up from his paperwork.
“Did ASA Fraser pass by here?”
“Ooh, yes,” Frannie perked up, a dreamy smile crossing her
features. “Yes, he did.”
“He wanted me to tell you he left a note on your chair,”
Ray Vecchio said.
“Which you would have noticed if you ever sat down for
once,” Frannie added.
“Done!” Her brother said triumphantly, tweaking the left
strap of Frannie’s shoulder holster. “Fran, you have to take the stakeout shift
with Dewey.”
“Aw, no fair!” Frannie complained. “I was talking to the
lieu.”
“Vecchio! Both!” Ray pointed at the pile on Frannie’s
desk. “You two have cases to solve.” He left them to their bickering and
retrieved Fraser’s note from his chair.
Lieutenant Kowalski,
I apologize for my abrupt departure. I was urgently needed
at the office for matters that do not need mentioning at this juncture. If you
would please call and respond with regard to my earlier query, I would much
appreciate your time. Thank you kindly.
Benton Fraser
*
Benton stretched at his desk and glanced at the clock.
Almost time to leave, but Lieutenant Kowalski still hadn’t called.
It had just been a mere dinner invitation – an awkwardly
and gracelessly rendered one at that. The Lieutenant was a busy man. He was a
fine man, a professional who excelled at his work.
You can’t be disappointed, Benton
told himself. You can’t be disappointed because you were never foolish
enough to have expectations. He mentally repeated this as he gathered his
files, closed his briefcase, straightened his desk, and pushed in his chair at
the correct angle in proportion to his desk. He lingered at the door of his
office, staring at the phone. You did not have expectations. The door
shut with a click of finality behind him.
“Good evening, sir,” Turnbull said politely from the front
desk.
“Good evening,” Benton nodded to his assistant as he
walked briskly out of the building and promptly ran into someone. His files
spilled onto the pavement, and he felt an unusually sharp comment rise up in
the back of his throat as he bent over the scattered papers. He frowned, opened
his mouth, and then closed it before looking up irritably to confront his
antagonist.
Ray Kowalski’s eyes were bright with unvoiced laughter.
“You were about to cuss at me, weren’t you? Call me a name? Shed some of that
Canadian-bred courtesy? I’m shocked.”
Benton was appalled at his quickening pulse. He felt his
heart drop to the vicinity of his knees and then shoot back up to its proper
place, the medial cavity of the thorax, or the mediastinum – and oh dear, he
needed to stop his mind from wandering so dreadfully.
He found his voice and replied, “I am somewhat remorseful
to admit that, yes, the thought had crossed my mind to perhaps word a strong
statement of disapproval concerning our collision, but I assure you, to pepper
my speech with vulgarity or what some regard as colorful, brash language never
occurred to me; that is to say, I am not offended by those who use the
aforementioned language, such as yourself, Lieutenant, but I myself find that I
often – ”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Lieutenant Kowalski really was
laughing now, waving his hands, silver bracelet clinking lightly against his
wrist. Benton felt his cheeks heat, and he tugged nervously at his collar.
Kowalski kneeled to help him gather the files. “You’re
forgiven, and I think I should be the one to say I’m sorry, for not really
paying attention to where I was going,” He looked at Benton through his lashes
and smiled.
“Thank you kindly. I accept your apology,” Benton said,
remaining motionless in his position, riveted on the material of the jeans that
clung so lovingly to Kowalski’s thighs. He had changed clothes. What did that
mean? Their foreheads were very close. He shifted the point of his gaze, and he
could see the fine lines around Kowalski’s eyes and mouth, a mouth that was
curved in a temptingly bemused expression.
“Ahem,” A voice floated from above them. “Excuse me, but I
am trying to get through.”
Benton rose guiltily in haste, brushing himself off. “I’m
terribly sorry, Ms. Thatcher.”
Meg Thatcher eyed him. “I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow in
the office, Mr. Fraser.” She gave Kowalski an inscrutable look and curt nod
before entering the building.
“What an ice queen, huh?” Kowalski said. Before Fraser
could muster a response or suitably convincing protest, the lieutenant spoke
again. “So listen,” He shifted, sticking his hands into the pockets of his
black leather jacket. “About dinner, you still up for that? I’m real sorry I
didn’t get to call you, I tried a few times, but your assistant said you
weren’t to be disturbed by Thatcher’s orders, and I had a few things to deal
with at the 2-7, so…uh. You still want to?”
“I…yes.” Benton responded the only way he could. Why on
earth hadn’t Thatcher or Turnbull informed him about his missed calls? To think
that the lieutenant had traveled from the 2-7 all the way to the state
attorney’s office…why, that was simply…
“Greatness!” Kowalski’s expression lighted up. “Cause I’m
starving. Dief stole my last package of M&Ms, the sneaky wolf.”
Benton was startled into laughter.
*
They walked toward the parking garage, where Fraser said
his car was. Except what he really said was more like, “I believe we should
utilize the service of my vehicle.” Ray got a real kick out of how Fraser
talked, especially with his mellow voice and all that Canadian sincerity.
“Uh, I was thinking. Maybe we could, you know, leave the
case stuff in the car or something,” Ray said, an uncertain tinge to his voice.
He gestured at Fraser’s files. “I figure, we both spent the entire day battling
crime, fighting for truth and justice and pineapple pizza and all that good stuff,
so we deserve a little break.”
“It does seem we’re entitled to a break, doesn’t it,
Lieutenant Kowalski?” Fraser smiled. “I’m parked on the third level. Let’s go
this way.”
Jeez, the guy seemed to love these endless flights of
stairs.
“How many times do I gotta tell you?” Ray grinned. “Call
me Ray.”
A pause. “All right, Ray. Then you should call me Ben,”
Fraser said, with a soft, tentative quality to his voice that made something
inside Ray loosen and uncoil.
Fraser put a hand on Ray’s lower back to steer him toward
Section C. The warm spot that burned through Ray’s jacket all the way to his
insides felt a little like a promise. A beginning. A little like something.
Something Ray wouldn’t mind feeling more often.
Oh, fuck yeah. A wide grin began expanding
across Ray’s face as they rounded the corner.
When
he caught sight of Ben’s gleaming black GTO, the warmth felt a little like
love.
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lost-theplot.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ds_flashfiction2005-06-03 10:59 am
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I am delighted by this. Thank you!
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I'm totally amused that Fraser drives a GTO. I'd love to hear that story.
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But I can imagine Ray with the window rolled down, wanting to feel a little breeze, twitching as Fraser drives slooowly to the restaurant, all perturbed that someone with a GTO could drive like that.
"Do you think maybe we could...go a little faster? Just a little?"
"Ah, Ray, we're already in accordance with the posted speed limit."
"Oh sure, yeah." *Ray watches the other cars pass by in blurs*
:D
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Welsh is Stella's partner. I thought about partnering Stella with Ray Vecchio, but I couldn't resist both Vecchio siblings working together and Frannie wearing a shoulder holster. *wink*
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Loved every bit of it, and all the little details and switches were very clever! Sequel would be good ...
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No need to be shy, sweetheart.
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You can’t be disappointed, Benton told himself. You can’t be disappointed because you were never foolish enough to have expectations.
Awwwww! *heart* Poor Fraser.
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You got me with the red tie already - yeah, I'm easy ::grins::. And Fraser having a GTO and sneaky Dief stealing Ray's M&M's... A sequel would be GREAT!
Welcome!
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> “Aw, no fair!” Frannie complained. “I was talking to the lieu.”
> “Vecchio! Both!”
*dies of teh cute*
> He found his voice and replied, “I am somewhat remorseful to admit that, yes, the thought had crossed my mind to perhaps word a strong statement of disapproval concerning our collision, but I assure you, to pepper my speech with vulgarity or what some regard as colorful, brash language never occurred to me; that is to say, I am not offended by those who use the aforementioned language, such as yourself, Lieutenant, but I myself find that I often – ”
heh heh. I spellcheck legal transcripts for a living. He sounds *just like* a lawyer.
> When he caught sight of Ben’s gleaming black GTO, the warmth felt a little like love.
*happysigh*
I don't know how I missed this before, but I found it through Speranza's rec. Thanks, I liked it.