Courteous Ray Challenge by Thornnuminous
Jan. 25th, 2008 07:18 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ds_flashfictionTitle: The Key to Courtesy
Or
Be Pleasant and Polite, Ray, It’ll Confuse the Crap out of
People
Author: Thornnuminous
Email: thornnuminous at gmail dot com
Rating: PG
Category: Pre-slash, Fraser/Kowalski
Summary: Politeness, like love, is serious business.
Disclaimer: The pretty men belong to someone else. Just borrowed for the purposes of profitless fun.
Notes: For the Polite Ray Challenge,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ds_flashfiction
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sara_merry99 the wonderful and arrow00 the great snagger of errors!
Word count: 4,440
At a quarter to one in the afternoon, Ray looked up from the report in his hands in time to see Benton Fraser striding into the bull pen at the 2-7. He smiled and waved.
“Hey Fraser, good to see you. Why don’t you have a seat, please? I just gotta finish reading this.”
A nearly infinitesimal hitch of surprise caught in Benton’s gait as he approached, but he merely nodded and slid into the chair, sitting ramrod straight, as usual. He didn’t mind having to wait. Watching Ray work was stimulating.
“Of course, Ray. Please, carry on.”
Ray nodded pleasantly before dropping his eyes back to the report.
“Thank you. I’ll be just be a minute.”
Hm. Something was different. From where he was sitting, Benton could see that Ray’s blond hair was as wildly exuberant as usual. He was wearing his favorite teeshirt and his holster, sans jacket. What was it? Ray was totally absorbed in the report, but…aha…he wasn’t frowning. Very unusual.
Benton could hear Ray’s leg bouncing under the table, the energy inside his quixotic partner bubbling to the surface in any way possible. Benton’s eyes glanced at the pen in Ray’s free hand. Seemingly of its own volition, the shiny pen danced its way through those agile, artistic fingers over and over and…Benton blinked and shook his gaze away from the hypnotic display, surprised to find Ray was, well not quite humming. His quiet vocalizations had far too many plosives and syncopation. It was more like jazz.
Something was definitely strange here. Other people were darting furtive looks at Ray now and then, but he didn’t seem to notice. Fraser happened to look over at Frannie. She eyed Ray a second before making subtle (for her), but frantic ‘come here’ gestures. Ray was oblivious to it all, absorbed as he was in his report.
“Pardon me, Ray?”
“Hm, yeah?”
“Excuse me for a minute, please. I need to have a word with Francesca.”
“Oh sure. No problem.”
“Thank you, kindly.”
“You're welcome.”
Ray dove back into his report, so Benton, his own odd glance gracing the situation, rose and walked over to Frannie’s desk, removing his Stetson as he arrived. She stood up in his personal space (again), but for the first time, he didn’t feel the ridiculous urge to clutch his clothes and back away. Her attention was glued on Ray. She even kept her voice down. Amazing.
“Fraser, you see it right? He’s been like that since he got in at eight this morning. It’s just…weird, you know?”
“Indeed, he seems rather…well…content?”
“I know! He hasn’t groused at anybody since he got here. Not even me. He’s been sitting there doing his paperwork, for crying out loud. The lieutenant came through, barked at him about something like usual and Ray just smiled at him and said he’d get right on it, thank you sir.”
She finally looked at Fraser, giving him the Vecchio Hairy Eyeball. He involuntarily took a half-step back.
“What’d you do to him? I gotta know. It’s like he’s turned Canadian on us.”
Fraser cleared his throat and rotated the Stetson brim in his hand a quarter turn. Clockwise.
“I’m quite sure I have done nothing to him, Francesca. I must admit to being as mystified by Ray’s behavior as you are. Though…if it is just that he is being pleasant and polite, that’s surely not a bad thing.”
“This is Ray. Have you ever seen him like this?”
“Well, not as such, but…”
“But what? It’s got to mean something.”
Fraser opened his mouth to explain to Francesca about some of his recent reading comparing and contrasting the methods, assumptions and ideas of Freudian versus Jungian psychology, when the door to Welsh’s office flew open.
“Constable!”
“Yes, Leftenant?”
“In here, now.”
“Yessir.”
Benton glanced at Ray, to find the detective’s blue eyes locked on him too, eyebrows raised. Ray shrugged and looked at Welsh.
“Me too, sir?”
Welsh looked at Ray like he was some sort of wild animal that might spring.
“No, Vecchio, you stay there and keep doing what you’re doing. I just need to have a word with the Mountie.”
“Okay.”
Ray saw Benton looking at him and smiled, before calmly going back to his report without another word. Benton stared in surprise.
“Constable, sometime this century?”
“Oh, yes sir. Excuse me, Francesca…”
Fraser hurried past Welsh who closed the door carefully behind them.
“Alright, Constable, let’s have it.”
“Have what, sir?”
“What’d you do to him? It’s some sort of Canadian whammy, isn’t it?”
“I…a ‘whammy’ sir? I don’t follow.”
“Some sort of Eskimo magic or something? Constable, that man out there is acting like…like…you. As far as I can tell, he’s been professional, polite, calm and focused. He’s plowing through his paperwork like a hot knife through butter. For the love of god, what’d you do to him? It’s making everybody nervous.”
Benton Fraser stared at Welsh. He tried to speak…but really couldn’t.
“WELL?”
“I…sir…I don’t know…well, that is to say…surely his improved outlook and productivity is a…”
“IF HE STARTS LICKING THINGS WE’RE GOING TO HAVE A PROBLEM.”
Fraser winced.
“Now, sir, surely this isn’t really that much of a…”
Welsh held a hand up, silencing Fraser immediately. The lieutenant looked tired.
“Is this really the first of this you’ve seen this outta him?”
“Yes sir. He wasn’t acting like this at all last night.”
“…last…night?”
“Yes sir. The last I saw of Detective Veccio was at his apartment. He seemed completely normal until I left and went home at 11:23 pm, sir. After that, I’m fairly sure he went to sleep. He was very tired.”
“Oh god, Constable is that it? Look, forget I asked, okay? None of my business. I don’t even care. Honest I don’t. You both do good work. Just don’t tell me about any more off the clock stuff.”
Fraser stared at Welsh.
“Sir? Are you suggesting…that is to say…I...”
“No no, go on. Get out of here. Take your…er…partner and get some bad guys. Wait…that sounds…no no. I mean. Just. Arg. Get out of here, Constable. Work to do.”
“I…yes sir. Good day, sir.”
Fraser opened the door and drifted back out to the bull pen, completely at sea. Was the Leftenant seriously suggesting that he and Ray…? And if he was, where had he gotten the idea that..? And, even more disconcerting, what if they...No no nono, this was not the time or place to think about this.
Benton shut the door behind himself and walked slowly over to Ray’s desk just as the blond man signed the bottom of the report, tossed it into his outbox (when did Ray get an outbox?) and leaned back in his chair stretching his arms up over his head in a spine-popping stretch. The blue tee shirt molded itself to Ray’s torso and Fraser couldn’t help looking, which was…just…
He ran a thumbnail over his eyebrow, hoping no one had noticed his lapse in manners. One good thing about Ray’s odd behavior, absolutely no one was paying him the slightest bit of attention for the first time ever. Ray brought his arms down and slouched bonelessly in his chair.
“Hey Frase, what was that about. You okay?"
“I’m…well, thank you kindly. Ray…”
Benton Fraser stood near Ray’s desk, still holding his Stetson. Ray’s watchful, intelligent blue eyes tilted up at Fraser. For a second, Fraser thought he saw a glint of something else deep in those eyes.
“You wanna get some lunch? I’m kinda starving here.”
“I…yes. Lunch would be lovely.”
Ray watched him a moment longer, before he hopped up and snagged his jacket off the back of his chair.
“Okay, let’s get going. Oh, and Frase? You pick this time, okay? It’s more than your turn to decide the place.”
Ray gave Benton one more of those new, sunny smiles as the two men turned and headed toward the door, with Benton sensitive, and Ray oblivious, to the several pairs of curious eyes watching them leave.
* * *
Benton picked a restaurant he’d found fascinating in its service concept – Thyme Square, only organic food, with a heavy emphasis on regional produce out of concern for health and environmental impact. Ray just nodded and said it might be interesting. During the ride there, Ray had driven with his usual flair, but…he didn’t once lay on the horn or yell at other drivers through the windshield.
By the time they were seated in a quiet corner of the dining room, surrounded by jewel-toned murals of fruits and vegetables, Benton felt a mild sort of unpleasant déjà vu – an echo of when he came back from Canada and Ray wasn’t Ray anymore. Only, this time, it was more disconcerting because, outwardly, his partner was the same man today as he was yesterday.
“So, Frase, what’s good here?”
“Hm? I…don’t know. I’ve never been here before.”
“No kidding, okay, well I think the shrimp, basil and ricotta pizza thing sounds good. Never had that before. Who knows? I might like it.”
“Ray…are you feeling quite well?”
“Hm, sure am. Thanks for asking.”
Ray put his menu down and reached for a wedge of heavily seeded bread from the basket at center of the table. Instead of grabbing a whole piece, he deftly tore off just enough for a bite. He dipped his knife into the tiny cup of pumpkin preserves that came instead of butter. Sunlight from a nearby window glinted silver along Ray’s bracelet as he smooshed the spread around. He set his knife down and sniffed at the bread.
“Hm, smells good.”
He popped the bite into his mouth and chewed. Benton couldn’t help staring as Ray’s eyes fluttered shut in a mild sort of bliss. Watching Ray revel in a simple mouthful of food left Benton a touch breathless. Ray’s enthusiasms and outbursts added so much energy to the day, but this was on a whole different level. Benton puzzled over the difference. This was…sensual. Ray swallowed and sighed. His eyes half opened as he regarded Benton’s faintly flushed expression.
“What is it?”
“I…ah… thought you only liked that soft supermarket bread with the crusts cut off.”
Ray laughed quietly. The sunlight shone gold on his downcast lashes for a moment before he looked back up.
“I told you, back during that Orsini nightmare, I’ll try anything… like now, for instance. I didn’t think I’d like all those seeds.”
Benton raised his eyebrows. Anything? But during that conversation, he was talking about lascivious acts. Surely… he didn’t mean it to sound like…
Benton cleared his throat, and attempted to get back on topic.
“But you did?”
“Yeah. It’s complicated bread, but worth the hassle. Worth taking your time over. Worth appreciating.”
Benton’s mouth felt abnormally dry. He picked up his tea and took a sip. Ray just kept watching him, a funny sort of peace on his face. The waiter came by and took their orders. Ray got his pizza and Benton went with the venison stew. Ray didn’t make one snide comment about Bambi. The waiter took their menus and left.
“Ray…”
Ray tilted his head a little and grinned at his partner.
“Go on, ask. I can tell you’re dying to.”
“Well, I don’t want to pry…”
Ray waved a dismissive hand and leaned forward resting his arms on the edge of the table, not his elbows.
“We’re partners, Benton-buddy, and more than that, we’re friends. After everything we’ve been through together, if there’s anybody I got right now who’s got prying privileges, it’s you. So, go on, pry away.”
Benton eyed Ray thoughtfully for a moment.
“I’m honored.”
Ray merely nodded, waiting.
“As you are clearly aware, I’ve noticed certain…differences…in your manner today. Pleasant differences let me say. I must admit to curiosity as to the cause. Also, I feel I should inform you that the rest of the 2-7 have noticed as well and seem, rather disconcerted by it all. That was the subject of my chat with Leftenant Welsh. Also he…well…Perhaps I in some way led him to conclude that…ah…perhaps that can be discussed later.”
Ray leaned back in his chair, his expression focused but inscrutable.
“Heh. You know, it’s pretty pathetic when everyone around a guy is so used to him being such a miserable S.O.B. that, when he’s not, they get thrown by it. Anyway, I’m glad you find me pleasant today. It’s because of you, anyway. What you said last night.”
“What I said?”
Benton, surprised and a bit flattered, reeled in the memory of last night. They ate sandwiches and watched hockey. It was the usual sort of evening for them, what could he have said?
“I’m afraid I don’t…”
“It was near the end of the game, and I was yelling at the tv and you sort of looked at me with that funny little smile you got and said, “Ray, it’s amazing how much you want to communicate even when you know people can’t hear you.”
Benton blinked. He had a funny little smile? Wait…
“I was merely commenting on your habit of talking at the television.”
“And later you mentioned how I yell at people in other cars when we drive.”
Benton shifted a bit uncomfortably.
“Well…not to put too fine a point on it, but you’ve been very polite today. Beyond that, you have been focused and relaxed. Not that I’m complaining, heavens no, I think it’s wonderful. It’s just, from my point of view, it’s coming completely out of the western meadow.”
Ray chuckled.
“Left field. Out of left field. Okay, here’s the deal. After you left, I thought about that – the getting worked up when nobody’s listening, or even wants to listen. And the thing about habits. I mean really thought about it 'cause it wouldn’t go away. I fell asleep thinking about it. And let me tell you…I do not want to have dreams like that again. And before you ask, I’m not telling you what they were because they freaked me out. Anyway, I woke up and sorted through all the weird crap my brain spewed out and came up with some serious leads.”
Benton started to lean forward, curiosity and some level of anticipation rippling within his chest, but the waiter reappeared with their meals. Ray simply held Benton with his eyes as the plates were set before them. The waiter seemed to feel the tension, and made himself scarce. Ray snagged a piece of pizza from his plate and took a cautious taste. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, before nodding to himself and taking another bite.
“Go on. You were saying?”
Ray finished off the piece and swallowed before answering.
“Right, well, first of all, you have to know I’ve been completely real with you even while doing this undercover gig. As real as I’ve been able to be, anyway, and that’s sort of the problem. Even after all this, you don’t really know me. You haven’t even met me.”
Benton stilled. The nasty déjà vu feeling grew a bit stronger, but he kept his expression as neutral as he could.
“How so?”
Ray’s eyes were rueful and a touch sad.
“The bad part is, I haven’t met me for a long time either. Look, I told you all about Stella and me and my dad and all that stuff from my past. Beyond that, you’ve been around when all sorts of personal crap has rained down on me. What is the number one thing you got from all that?”
Benton picked up his spoon, but just sort of trailed it around in his stew, thinking hard.
“C’mon, Benton. First word that comes to mind.”
“But, Ray, I…”
“I’m serious.”
“Ray.”
“First word, no holding back. What is it.”
“Desperation.”
Ray leaned back, a serious, but faintly satisfied look on his face. He cocked his finger like a gun and fired.
“Exactly. You could throw in panic and anger and shame and heartbreak too. A lotta pain. You have never seen me without one or all of these things all over me like bruises after a beat down. You’ve seen how different somebody looks from when they’re fine and from after they’ve been punched in the face a bunch of times. Un-freakin-recognizable. People see you different and they treat you different. If they think you’re a victim, they pity you. If they think you’re the one who started it all, they treat you like you’re no good. Either way it sucks. Even you, Ben, you see the damage and you feel sorry for me. No, wait…let me finish.”
Ray straightened in his chair, some of his earlier energy returning and with it, Benton finally saw the base of it all. Right there in Ray’s eyes. Resolve.
My god, he has such…courage…
“Ben, I’m tired of you feeling sorry for me, but I know why you do. You got a huge heart. You feel sorry for me because I’ve been feeling sorry for me. It’s a habit. I’ve been soaking in all the pain and crap until my fingertips have turned to prunes and I’m tired of it.”
Ray leaned forward, energy and earnestness in ever line of his body.
“I wasn’t always like this - where I’m always talking and nobody’s listening. Where I get so freakin’ mad and frustrated that it all comes out my mouth at whatever or whoever’s in my crosshairs. I used to have hope. I used to believe in myself. You gotta have that if you’re a blue collar kid trying to win the girl of your dreams against every person who thinks you can’t do it. You gotta have that if you want to be a good cop who doesn’t get burned out or used up. I had that. I had something that mattered. I had something to lose. And…I did.”
Ray stopped, as if to catch his breath. His face was open and his eyes, pieces of a cloudless sky, seemed like they were looking through Benton at someone or something epiphanous. Benton stared at him, his meal completely forgotten. The rotten déjà vu fog burned away before the sunlight of Ray’s regard.
Ray is beautiful. How have I missed this?
Ray refocused on Benton’s face, something building within him. Benton could feel it.
“You know what it’s like to get really hurt. Physically, mentally, whatever. You know what it’s like. What happens to someone who gets really hurt? If they aren’t killed, what do they do first?”
Benton thoughts tumbled through the slashing knives of his most painful memories before he looked back at Ray.
“They protect the hurt place. Curl up on it to keep it from receiving further damage,” he whispered.
“Yeah, they protect it. But more than that, it changes how they move and how they act. You hurt your leg, you limp. You hurt your arm, you use the other one. It changes how you act. If the hurt lasts long enough, maybe you don’t go back to how you were before you got hurt, because you forget how it used to be, or think you can’t ever have that again,” Ray said, softly.
Benton’s hand went of its own volition across the tabletop and curled around Ray’s waiting fingers. Ray let him hold on for a minute before disentangling in order to interlace their fingers in a stronger grip.
“So, then…today?” Benton asked.
“Yeah, hang on, I’m getting to that. Look, everything went down the drain on me. For a while there, I was good enough for Stella, but it didn’t last. No matter what I did or said, it wasn’t good enough. Years that went on. My best wasn’t good enough for her, or my dad. For a while, the only people who seemed to get it were the guys who kept putting me in undercover. They got my best, but it was so hollow. My best was acting like a slimeball so other slimeballs wouldn’t kill me? Would tell me their slimeball secrets so we could nail ‘em? What kind of life is that?"
Benton, completely caught up in Ray’s narrative, squeezed Ray’s fingers gently.
“What happened then?”
Ray looked at him like he was unhinged, but with affection.
“You did.”
Benton Fraser blushed as red as his serge. He might’ve pulled his hand back in embarrassment, if not for the solid, steadying hold Ray had on his fingers.
“I finally get an undercover gig worth doing. I’m pretending to be a good guy who’s partnered with a great guy and I’m doing it to keep this cop safe. You got no idea…”
Ray paused, his eyes hard from keeping the moisture in them from coming out in public. He took a breath, then another one.
“You got no idea what it has been like. Getting out of jail. Getting out of hell. To finally remember what it feels like to look forward to the next day because you’ve got hope…no, more than that, a reasonable shot that it’s going to be a good day - maybe even better than today.”
Ray sighed and rubbed the side of his face with his free hand.
“But I haven’t been able to just throw away all that garbage I’ve been using to keep my skin in one piece. And there was all that stuff that boiled up whenever Stella decided it was time to chew on me a little more. And here you are, this guy that turns whatever he touches to gold when all I’m used to is having everything I touch turn to crap…”
“Ray…don’t…”
But Ray raised a hand, silencing him.
“I’m talking about what it was like when we first met. We’ve been through a ton of stuff since then. And that brings me to that thing where I’m always talking or yelling and nobody gives me the time of day. Except, you and me, we don’t need to say a word half the time and we’re on the same page.”
Ray looked up again, the clear honesty in his eyes making Benton’s breath catch.
“That duet stuff I told you that first day…it came true. I never thought it would. It was just part of my patter, the slick stuff I reel out without even thinking when I’m undercover. But it’s real. You set ‘em up, I knock ‘em down. When it really matters, we move together like we were made for it. I thought I had that…back…before…but I didn’t know what it really could be. And it goes so deep…
After Volpe, you had this unshakeable faith in me. Even when I didn’t have faith in me. And even after that time I punched you in the face. After all the arguments we’ve had. You see something in me that’s worth something.”
“Ray, you are worth something.”
Ray’s grip tightened on Benton’s fingers, his gaze pinned the Mountie to his seat.
“I am tired of doing my best for someone who thinks it’s just trash. And then you come along and even when I give you trash, you see good in it. This morning, after all that thinking, I realized. It’s time I show you my best. No one I know deserves this more than you.”
Ray…oh Ray…
Benton’s dark head bowed over his plate, hiding his eyes. Uncertain for the first time all day, Ray started to loosen his fingers, only to have them held immovable. Moments passed as Benton breathed carefully to maintain his composure. Eventually, he looked up. His smile was quiet and small. Not many people would have seen the depth of emotion in it, but Ray did. He let out the shaky breath he’d been holding.
Ray’s eyes twinkled, and his lips twitched.
“So, Fraser, do you find me attractive?”
Benton choked on a startled laugh and pretended to cough into his napkin. When he pulled himself together, he unobtrusively ran his thumb along the inside of Ray’s hand, making the detective’s breath hitch a little.
“Ray, I don’t really think I can eat right now. Do you think we could pack this up and…maybe get Diefenbaker and go for a walk in the park instead? I don’t know how I’m going to get through the rest of the workday…”
“Yeah, sure thing.”
Ray flagged down the waiter.
“Hey, can we have this to go, please?”
The waiter nodded, and grinned pointedly at the handholding before wandering off for boxes. Ray and Benton smiled shyly at each other and gently let go. After all their food was packed and the bill paid (Ray left a tip large enough to ensure eternal devotion from the waitstaff), the two men found themselves on the street, heading for the GTO. Benton’s head whirled with everything Ray had given him. Ray seemed a little stunned himself.
“So…Ray…are you saying this new, more courteous you is here to stay?”
“Well, you know…changing habits is hard. I’d like to say yeah sure, but you know…I’ve had years of practice being a hardass.”
“Ray…”
Ray grinned at Benton, before his expression softened once more.
“Sorry. I’m not perfect. Everyone knows that. What I’m working on here isn’t to be perfect. It’s to be better. To let go of the bitter crap, because I’m tired of swallowing it. You know me…I like things that are sweet.”
The sidelong glance on the heels of that statement made Constable Benton Fraser almost trip over a crack in the sidewalk. Ray’s hand at his back steadied him and they walked like they always did, nearly touching. Benton noticed that for what it was for the first time and shook his head. Some deductive thinker he was supposed to be. And on that note…
“Ray, I feel I ought to tell you that Leftenant Welsh implied that you and I were…that is to say…we’re…”
“What, an item? Dating? Hot for each other?” Ray grinned.
“Ray!”
“Well? What of it? It’s true…isn’t it?”
“Well, of course it’s true now, but this insight he had was before lunch.”
Ray unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for his partner. Benton slid inside and pulled the door closed as Ray jogged lightly around to his side and got in. He grinned at the Mountie as he started the engine.
“Maybe Welsh is just…you know…whaddya call it…psychotic.”
“Psychic.”
“Yeah that.”
Or
Be Pleasant and Polite, Ray, It’ll Confuse the Crap out of
People
Author: Thornnuminous
Email: thornnuminous at gmail dot com
Rating: PG
Category: Pre-slash, Fraser/Kowalski
Summary: Politeness, like love, is serious business.
Disclaimer: The pretty men belong to someone else. Just borrowed for the purposes of profitless fun.
Notes: For the Polite Ray Challenge,
ds_flashfictionBeta:
sara_merry99 the wonderful and arrow00 the great snagger of errors!Word count: 4,440
At a quarter to one in the afternoon, Ray looked up from the report in his hands in time to see Benton Fraser striding into the bull pen at the 2-7. He smiled and waved.
“Hey Fraser, good to see you. Why don’t you have a seat, please? I just gotta finish reading this.”
A nearly infinitesimal hitch of surprise caught in Benton’s gait as he approached, but he merely nodded and slid into the chair, sitting ramrod straight, as usual. He didn’t mind having to wait. Watching Ray work was stimulating.
“Of course, Ray. Please, carry on.”
Ray nodded pleasantly before dropping his eyes back to the report.
“Thank you. I’ll be just be a minute.”
Hm. Something was different. From where he was sitting, Benton could see that Ray’s blond hair was as wildly exuberant as usual. He was wearing his favorite teeshirt and his holster, sans jacket. What was it? Ray was totally absorbed in the report, but…aha…he wasn’t frowning. Very unusual.
Benton could hear Ray’s leg bouncing under the table, the energy inside his quixotic partner bubbling to the surface in any way possible. Benton’s eyes glanced at the pen in Ray’s free hand. Seemingly of its own volition, the shiny pen danced its way through those agile, artistic fingers over and over and…Benton blinked and shook his gaze away from the hypnotic display, surprised to find Ray was, well not quite humming. His quiet vocalizations had far too many plosives and syncopation. It was more like jazz.
Something was definitely strange here. Other people were darting furtive looks at Ray now and then, but he didn’t seem to notice. Fraser happened to look over at Frannie. She eyed Ray a second before making subtle (for her), but frantic ‘come here’ gestures. Ray was oblivious to it all, absorbed as he was in his report.
“Pardon me, Ray?”
“Hm, yeah?”
“Excuse me for a minute, please. I need to have a word with Francesca.”
“Oh sure. No problem.”
“Thank you, kindly.”
“You're welcome.”
Ray dove back into his report, so Benton, his own odd glance gracing the situation, rose and walked over to Frannie’s desk, removing his Stetson as he arrived. She stood up in his personal space (again), but for the first time, he didn’t feel the ridiculous urge to clutch his clothes and back away. Her attention was glued on Ray. She even kept her voice down. Amazing.
“Fraser, you see it right? He’s been like that since he got in at eight this morning. It’s just…weird, you know?”
“Indeed, he seems rather…well…content?”
“I know! He hasn’t groused at anybody since he got here. Not even me. He’s been sitting there doing his paperwork, for crying out loud. The lieutenant came through, barked at him about something like usual and Ray just smiled at him and said he’d get right on it, thank you sir.”
She finally looked at Fraser, giving him the Vecchio Hairy Eyeball. He involuntarily took a half-step back.
“What’d you do to him? I gotta know. It’s like he’s turned Canadian on us.”
Fraser cleared his throat and rotated the Stetson brim in his hand a quarter turn. Clockwise.
“I’m quite sure I have done nothing to him, Francesca. I must admit to being as mystified by Ray’s behavior as you are. Though…if it is just that he is being pleasant and polite, that’s surely not a bad thing.”
“This is Ray. Have you ever seen him like this?”
“Well, not as such, but…”
“But what? It’s got to mean something.”
Fraser opened his mouth to explain to Francesca about some of his recent reading comparing and contrasting the methods, assumptions and ideas of Freudian versus Jungian psychology, when the door to Welsh’s office flew open.
“Constable!”
“Yes, Leftenant?”
“In here, now.”
“Yessir.”
Benton glanced at Ray, to find the detective’s blue eyes locked on him too, eyebrows raised. Ray shrugged and looked at Welsh.
“Me too, sir?”
Welsh looked at Ray like he was some sort of wild animal that might spring.
“No, Vecchio, you stay there and keep doing what you’re doing. I just need to have a word with the Mountie.”
“Okay.”
Ray saw Benton looking at him and smiled, before calmly going back to his report without another word. Benton stared in surprise.
“Constable, sometime this century?”
“Oh, yes sir. Excuse me, Francesca…”
Fraser hurried past Welsh who closed the door carefully behind them.
“Alright, Constable, let’s have it.”
“Have what, sir?”
“What’d you do to him? It’s some sort of Canadian whammy, isn’t it?”
“I…a ‘whammy’ sir? I don’t follow.”
“Some sort of Eskimo magic or something? Constable, that man out there is acting like…like…you. As far as I can tell, he’s been professional, polite, calm and focused. He’s plowing through his paperwork like a hot knife through butter. For the love of god, what’d you do to him? It’s making everybody nervous.”
Benton Fraser stared at Welsh. He tried to speak…but really couldn’t.
“WELL?”
“I…sir…I don’t know…well, that is to say…surely his improved outlook and productivity is a…”
“IF HE STARTS LICKING THINGS WE’RE GOING TO HAVE A PROBLEM.”
Fraser winced.
“Now, sir, surely this isn’t really that much of a…”
Welsh held a hand up, silencing Fraser immediately. The lieutenant looked tired.
“Is this really the first of this you’ve seen this outta him?”
“Yes sir. He wasn’t acting like this at all last night.”
“…last…night?”
“Yes sir. The last I saw of Detective Veccio was at his apartment. He seemed completely normal until I left and went home at 11:23 pm, sir. After that, I’m fairly sure he went to sleep. He was very tired.”
“Oh god, Constable is that it? Look, forget I asked, okay? None of my business. I don’t even care. Honest I don’t. You both do good work. Just don’t tell me about any more off the clock stuff.”
Fraser stared at Welsh.
“Sir? Are you suggesting…that is to say…I...”
“No no, go on. Get out of here. Take your…er…partner and get some bad guys. Wait…that sounds…no no. I mean. Just. Arg. Get out of here, Constable. Work to do.”
“I…yes sir. Good day, sir.”
Fraser opened the door and drifted back out to the bull pen, completely at sea. Was the Leftenant seriously suggesting that he and Ray…? And if he was, where had he gotten the idea that..? And, even more disconcerting, what if they...No no nono, this was not the time or place to think about this.
Benton shut the door behind himself and walked slowly over to Ray’s desk just as the blond man signed the bottom of the report, tossed it into his outbox (when did Ray get an outbox?) and leaned back in his chair stretching his arms up over his head in a spine-popping stretch. The blue tee shirt molded itself to Ray’s torso and Fraser couldn’t help looking, which was…just…
He ran a thumbnail over his eyebrow, hoping no one had noticed his lapse in manners. One good thing about Ray’s odd behavior, absolutely no one was paying him the slightest bit of attention for the first time ever. Ray brought his arms down and slouched bonelessly in his chair.
“Hey Frase, what was that about. You okay?"
“I’m…well, thank you kindly. Ray…”
Benton Fraser stood near Ray’s desk, still holding his Stetson. Ray’s watchful, intelligent blue eyes tilted up at Fraser. For a second, Fraser thought he saw a glint of something else deep in those eyes.
“You wanna get some lunch? I’m kinda starving here.”
“I…yes. Lunch would be lovely.”
Ray watched him a moment longer, before he hopped up and snagged his jacket off the back of his chair.
“Okay, let’s get going. Oh, and Frase? You pick this time, okay? It’s more than your turn to decide the place.”
Ray gave Benton one more of those new, sunny smiles as the two men turned and headed toward the door, with Benton sensitive, and Ray oblivious, to the several pairs of curious eyes watching them leave.
* * *
Benton picked a restaurant he’d found fascinating in its service concept – Thyme Square, only organic food, with a heavy emphasis on regional produce out of concern for health and environmental impact. Ray just nodded and said it might be interesting. During the ride there, Ray had driven with his usual flair, but…he didn’t once lay on the horn or yell at other drivers through the windshield.
By the time they were seated in a quiet corner of the dining room, surrounded by jewel-toned murals of fruits and vegetables, Benton felt a mild sort of unpleasant déjà vu – an echo of when he came back from Canada and Ray wasn’t Ray anymore. Only, this time, it was more disconcerting because, outwardly, his partner was the same man today as he was yesterday.
“So, Frase, what’s good here?”
“Hm? I…don’t know. I’ve never been here before.”
“No kidding, okay, well I think the shrimp, basil and ricotta pizza thing sounds good. Never had that before. Who knows? I might like it.”
“Ray…are you feeling quite well?”
“Hm, sure am. Thanks for asking.”
Ray put his menu down and reached for a wedge of heavily seeded bread from the basket at center of the table. Instead of grabbing a whole piece, he deftly tore off just enough for a bite. He dipped his knife into the tiny cup of pumpkin preserves that came instead of butter. Sunlight from a nearby window glinted silver along Ray’s bracelet as he smooshed the spread around. He set his knife down and sniffed at the bread.
“Hm, smells good.”
He popped the bite into his mouth and chewed. Benton couldn’t help staring as Ray’s eyes fluttered shut in a mild sort of bliss. Watching Ray revel in a simple mouthful of food left Benton a touch breathless. Ray’s enthusiasms and outbursts added so much energy to the day, but this was on a whole different level. Benton puzzled over the difference. This was…sensual. Ray swallowed and sighed. His eyes half opened as he regarded Benton’s faintly flushed expression.
“What is it?”
“I…ah… thought you only liked that soft supermarket bread with the crusts cut off.”
Ray laughed quietly. The sunlight shone gold on his downcast lashes for a moment before he looked back up.
“I told you, back during that Orsini nightmare, I’ll try anything… like now, for instance. I didn’t think I’d like all those seeds.”
Benton raised his eyebrows. Anything? But during that conversation, he was talking about lascivious acts. Surely… he didn’t mean it to sound like…
Benton cleared his throat, and attempted to get back on topic.
“But you did?”
“Yeah. It’s complicated bread, but worth the hassle. Worth taking your time over. Worth appreciating.”
Benton’s mouth felt abnormally dry. He picked up his tea and took a sip. Ray just kept watching him, a funny sort of peace on his face. The waiter came by and took their orders. Ray got his pizza and Benton went with the venison stew. Ray didn’t make one snide comment about Bambi. The waiter took their menus and left.
“Ray…”
Ray tilted his head a little and grinned at his partner.
“Go on, ask. I can tell you’re dying to.”
“Well, I don’t want to pry…”
Ray waved a dismissive hand and leaned forward resting his arms on the edge of the table, not his elbows.
“We’re partners, Benton-buddy, and more than that, we’re friends. After everything we’ve been through together, if there’s anybody I got right now who’s got prying privileges, it’s you. So, go on, pry away.”
Benton eyed Ray thoughtfully for a moment.
“I’m honored.”
Ray merely nodded, waiting.
“As you are clearly aware, I’ve noticed certain…differences…in your manner today. Pleasant differences let me say. I must admit to curiosity as to the cause. Also, I feel I should inform you that the rest of the 2-7 have noticed as well and seem, rather disconcerted by it all. That was the subject of my chat with Leftenant Welsh. Also he…well…Perhaps I in some way led him to conclude that…ah…perhaps that can be discussed later.”
Ray leaned back in his chair, his expression focused but inscrutable.
“Heh. You know, it’s pretty pathetic when everyone around a guy is so used to him being such a miserable S.O.B. that, when he’s not, they get thrown by it. Anyway, I’m glad you find me pleasant today. It’s because of you, anyway. What you said last night.”
“What I said?”
Benton, surprised and a bit flattered, reeled in the memory of last night. They ate sandwiches and watched hockey. It was the usual sort of evening for them, what could he have said?
“I’m afraid I don’t…”
“It was near the end of the game, and I was yelling at the tv and you sort of looked at me with that funny little smile you got and said, “Ray, it’s amazing how much you want to communicate even when you know people can’t hear you.”
Benton blinked. He had a funny little smile? Wait…
“I was merely commenting on your habit of talking at the television.”
“And later you mentioned how I yell at people in other cars when we drive.”
Benton shifted a bit uncomfortably.
“Well…not to put too fine a point on it, but you’ve been very polite today. Beyond that, you have been focused and relaxed. Not that I’m complaining, heavens no, I think it’s wonderful. It’s just, from my point of view, it’s coming completely out of the western meadow.”
Ray chuckled.
“Left field. Out of left field. Okay, here’s the deal. After you left, I thought about that – the getting worked up when nobody’s listening, or even wants to listen. And the thing about habits. I mean really thought about it 'cause it wouldn’t go away. I fell asleep thinking about it. And let me tell you…I do not want to have dreams like that again. And before you ask, I’m not telling you what they were because they freaked me out. Anyway, I woke up and sorted through all the weird crap my brain spewed out and came up with some serious leads.”
Benton started to lean forward, curiosity and some level of anticipation rippling within his chest, but the waiter reappeared with their meals. Ray simply held Benton with his eyes as the plates were set before them. The waiter seemed to feel the tension, and made himself scarce. Ray snagged a piece of pizza from his plate and took a cautious taste. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, before nodding to himself and taking another bite.
“Go on. You were saying?”
Ray finished off the piece and swallowed before answering.
“Right, well, first of all, you have to know I’ve been completely real with you even while doing this undercover gig. As real as I’ve been able to be, anyway, and that’s sort of the problem. Even after all this, you don’t really know me. You haven’t even met me.”
Benton stilled. The nasty déjà vu feeling grew a bit stronger, but he kept his expression as neutral as he could.
“How so?”
Ray’s eyes were rueful and a touch sad.
“The bad part is, I haven’t met me for a long time either. Look, I told you all about Stella and me and my dad and all that stuff from my past. Beyond that, you’ve been around when all sorts of personal crap has rained down on me. What is the number one thing you got from all that?”
Benton picked up his spoon, but just sort of trailed it around in his stew, thinking hard.
“C’mon, Benton. First word that comes to mind.”
“But, Ray, I…”
“I’m serious.”
“Ray.”
“First word, no holding back. What is it.”
“Desperation.”
Ray leaned back, a serious, but faintly satisfied look on his face. He cocked his finger like a gun and fired.
“Exactly. You could throw in panic and anger and shame and heartbreak too. A lotta pain. You have never seen me without one or all of these things all over me like bruises after a beat down. You’ve seen how different somebody looks from when they’re fine and from after they’ve been punched in the face a bunch of times. Un-freakin-recognizable. People see you different and they treat you different. If they think you’re a victim, they pity you. If they think you’re the one who started it all, they treat you like you’re no good. Either way it sucks. Even you, Ben, you see the damage and you feel sorry for me. No, wait…let me finish.”
Ray straightened in his chair, some of his earlier energy returning and with it, Benton finally saw the base of it all. Right there in Ray’s eyes. Resolve.
My god, he has such…courage…
“Ben, I’m tired of you feeling sorry for me, but I know why you do. You got a huge heart. You feel sorry for me because I’ve been feeling sorry for me. It’s a habit. I’ve been soaking in all the pain and crap until my fingertips have turned to prunes and I’m tired of it.”
Ray leaned forward, energy and earnestness in ever line of his body.
“I wasn’t always like this - where I’m always talking and nobody’s listening. Where I get so freakin’ mad and frustrated that it all comes out my mouth at whatever or whoever’s in my crosshairs. I used to have hope. I used to believe in myself. You gotta have that if you’re a blue collar kid trying to win the girl of your dreams against every person who thinks you can’t do it. You gotta have that if you want to be a good cop who doesn’t get burned out or used up. I had that. I had something that mattered. I had something to lose. And…I did.”
Ray stopped, as if to catch his breath. His face was open and his eyes, pieces of a cloudless sky, seemed like they were looking through Benton at someone or something epiphanous. Benton stared at him, his meal completely forgotten. The rotten déjà vu fog burned away before the sunlight of Ray’s regard.
Ray is beautiful. How have I missed this?
Ray refocused on Benton’s face, something building within him. Benton could feel it.
“You know what it’s like to get really hurt. Physically, mentally, whatever. You know what it’s like. What happens to someone who gets really hurt? If they aren’t killed, what do they do first?”
Benton thoughts tumbled through the slashing knives of his most painful memories before he looked back at Ray.
“They protect the hurt place. Curl up on it to keep it from receiving further damage,” he whispered.
“Yeah, they protect it. But more than that, it changes how they move and how they act. You hurt your leg, you limp. You hurt your arm, you use the other one. It changes how you act. If the hurt lasts long enough, maybe you don’t go back to how you were before you got hurt, because you forget how it used to be, or think you can’t ever have that again,” Ray said, softly.
Benton’s hand went of its own volition across the tabletop and curled around Ray’s waiting fingers. Ray let him hold on for a minute before disentangling in order to interlace their fingers in a stronger grip.
“So, then…today?” Benton asked.
“Yeah, hang on, I’m getting to that. Look, everything went down the drain on me. For a while there, I was good enough for Stella, but it didn’t last. No matter what I did or said, it wasn’t good enough. Years that went on. My best wasn’t good enough for her, or my dad. For a while, the only people who seemed to get it were the guys who kept putting me in undercover. They got my best, but it was so hollow. My best was acting like a slimeball so other slimeballs wouldn’t kill me? Would tell me their slimeball secrets so we could nail ‘em? What kind of life is that?"
Benton, completely caught up in Ray’s narrative, squeezed Ray’s fingers gently.
“What happened then?”
Ray looked at him like he was unhinged, but with affection.
“You did.”
Benton Fraser blushed as red as his serge. He might’ve pulled his hand back in embarrassment, if not for the solid, steadying hold Ray had on his fingers.
“I finally get an undercover gig worth doing. I’m pretending to be a good guy who’s partnered with a great guy and I’m doing it to keep this cop safe. You got no idea…”
Ray paused, his eyes hard from keeping the moisture in them from coming out in public. He took a breath, then another one.
“You got no idea what it has been like. Getting out of jail. Getting out of hell. To finally remember what it feels like to look forward to the next day because you’ve got hope…no, more than that, a reasonable shot that it’s going to be a good day - maybe even better than today.”
Ray sighed and rubbed the side of his face with his free hand.
“But I haven’t been able to just throw away all that garbage I’ve been using to keep my skin in one piece. And there was all that stuff that boiled up whenever Stella decided it was time to chew on me a little more. And here you are, this guy that turns whatever he touches to gold when all I’m used to is having everything I touch turn to crap…”
“Ray…don’t…”
But Ray raised a hand, silencing him.
“I’m talking about what it was like when we first met. We’ve been through a ton of stuff since then. And that brings me to that thing where I’m always talking or yelling and nobody gives me the time of day. Except, you and me, we don’t need to say a word half the time and we’re on the same page.”
Ray looked up again, the clear honesty in his eyes making Benton’s breath catch.
“That duet stuff I told you that first day…it came true. I never thought it would. It was just part of my patter, the slick stuff I reel out without even thinking when I’m undercover. But it’s real. You set ‘em up, I knock ‘em down. When it really matters, we move together like we were made for it. I thought I had that…back…before…but I didn’t know what it really could be. And it goes so deep…
After Volpe, you had this unshakeable faith in me. Even when I didn’t have faith in me. And even after that time I punched you in the face. After all the arguments we’ve had. You see something in me that’s worth something.”
“Ray, you are worth something.”
Ray’s grip tightened on Benton’s fingers, his gaze pinned the Mountie to his seat.
“I am tired of doing my best for someone who thinks it’s just trash. And then you come along and even when I give you trash, you see good in it. This morning, after all that thinking, I realized. It’s time I show you my best. No one I know deserves this more than you.”
Ray…oh Ray…
Benton’s dark head bowed over his plate, hiding his eyes. Uncertain for the first time all day, Ray started to loosen his fingers, only to have them held immovable. Moments passed as Benton breathed carefully to maintain his composure. Eventually, he looked up. His smile was quiet and small. Not many people would have seen the depth of emotion in it, but Ray did. He let out the shaky breath he’d been holding.
Ray’s eyes twinkled, and his lips twitched.
“So, Fraser, do you find me attractive?”
Benton choked on a startled laugh and pretended to cough into his napkin. When he pulled himself together, he unobtrusively ran his thumb along the inside of Ray’s hand, making the detective’s breath hitch a little.
“Ray, I don’t really think I can eat right now. Do you think we could pack this up and…maybe get Diefenbaker and go for a walk in the park instead? I don’t know how I’m going to get through the rest of the workday…”
“Yeah, sure thing.”
Ray flagged down the waiter.
“Hey, can we have this to go, please?”
The waiter nodded, and grinned pointedly at the handholding before wandering off for boxes. Ray and Benton smiled shyly at each other and gently let go. After all their food was packed and the bill paid (Ray left a tip large enough to ensure eternal devotion from the waitstaff), the two men found themselves on the street, heading for the GTO. Benton’s head whirled with everything Ray had given him. Ray seemed a little stunned himself.
“So…Ray…are you saying this new, more courteous you is here to stay?”
“Well, you know…changing habits is hard. I’d like to say yeah sure, but you know…I’ve had years of practice being a hardass.”
“Ray…”
Ray grinned at Benton, before his expression softened once more.
“Sorry. I’m not perfect. Everyone knows that. What I’m working on here isn’t to be perfect. It’s to be better. To let go of the bitter crap, because I’m tired of swallowing it. You know me…I like things that are sweet.”
The sidelong glance on the heels of that statement made Constable Benton Fraser almost trip over a crack in the sidewalk. Ray’s hand at his back steadied him and they walked like they always did, nearly touching. Benton noticed that for what it was for the first time and shook his head. Some deductive thinker he was supposed to be. And on that note…
“Ray, I feel I ought to tell you that Leftenant Welsh implied that you and I were…that is to say…we’re…”
“What, an item? Dating? Hot for each other?” Ray grinned.
“Ray!”
“Well? What of it? It’s true…isn’t it?”
“Well, of course it’s true now, but this insight he had was before lunch.”
Ray unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for his partner. Benton slid inside and pulled the door closed as Ray jogged lightly around to his side and got in. He grinned at the Mountie as he started the engine.
“Maybe Welsh is just…you know…whaddya call it…psychotic.”
“Psychic.”
“Yeah that.”
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