Courteous Ray Challenge (4) by Aingeal
Feb. 2nd, 2008 10:33 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
aingeal8c.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionTitle: Maple Syrup Related Compulsions
Author: Aingeal
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: PG
Summary: Ray finds himself being polite and he wants to know why he can't stop his manners.
Notes: Last one for this challenge (I think *g*). This is a little bit crackier than the last 3. And once more thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
leda_speaks for beta-ing my crack.
Maple Syrup Related Compulsions
Ray Vecchio was in a bad mood. He had so much paperwork he hadn’t seen the surface of his desk in a week. He had Louise on his back over not one, not two, but three upcoming court cases and last night his lover had done some very strange things that included biting him while chanting in some weird language. Ray was ready to snap.
Elaine approached his desk, smiling. She'd be an easy target. She handed Ray yet another file. “The Frinsky case,” she said.
“Thank you kindly, Elaine.” Ray said. Instead of the scowl he had expected to give her he’d smiled, actually smiled a genuine smile, and thanked her without a hint of sarcasm.
Elaine winked. “I see someone is rubbing off on you.”
Ray was open-mouthed as she walked away. What had just happened? Why had he smiled? Thanked her for the extra paperwork he didn’t need? Maybe it was just some sort of early morning thing, he decided. Maybe all he needed was a cup of coffee. He got up from his desk and headed to the lunchroom.
He nodded a greeting to the other cops in the lunchroom. It was a normal, quiet, morning. Except he hadn’t made a smart remark yet. Hugo was filling the coffee machine and handed Ray a cup of coffee. “Here you go, detective.”
Ray took the proffered cup. It smelt awful, really awful, he could smell it before he even raised it to his lips. He gingerly lifted it up and took a sip. It tasted awful; it was by far the worst cup of coffee he’d ever tasted but, although inside he wanted to grimace, he wasn’t grimacing. He was smiling a little at Hugo. “Thank you, Hugo,” Ray said. “It’s not bad.”
“Thank you, Detective,” Hugo replied.
Ray left the lunchroom with the foul coffee and proceeded to dump the cup into the nearest bin. He spat out the terrible taste. Why couldn’t he tell Hugo it tasted worse than paint? Why had he even thanked the guy for nearly poisoning him? Something was wrong, Ray felt, very wrong.
Huey was at Ray’s desk when he got back. “Hey, Ray, could you check this report for me? It’s on the centre street robbery.”
Ray wanted to tell Huey no, he had enough paperwork to do himself, he was snowed under. That had been the case And anyway, that had been the case Huey had refused his help with. Ray had offered, but he'd been turned down. No way was he going to look at it.
“Sure, Jack, just leave it on my desk,” Ray said.
“Thanks, Ray,” Huey replied and dumped the file on top of the rest of Ray’s paperwork.
Ray picked it up and stared at it. He wanted to call after Huey, tell him to do his own paperwork but he couldn’t. Ray was now very worried. He was grateful when Fraser dropped by at lunchtime; he needed answers and he felt his Mountie was the one to give him them.
“Hello, Ray,” Fraser said, cheerfully.
Ray grabbed Fraser and dragged him to the nearest closet. He pushed Fraser inside and shut the door.
“Don’t tell me ‘hello’, Benny,” Ray said.
“Are you all right, Ray?”
“No, I am not all right,” Ray replied, trying not to raise his voice.
“What’s wrong? “
“What did you do to me, Benny?” Ray asked.
“In what sense, Ray?” Fraser replied, tugging at his ear.
“You know damn well what sense,” Ray said, jabbing an accusing finger in Fraser’s direction. “All day I’ve been polite to people.”
“And is that a problem, Ray?”
“Yes, it’s a problem! I’m not you, Fraser, I don’t need to be polite because of some Mountie code of honour.”
“Ah.”
“Ah? What’s ‘ah’?”
Fraser cleared his throat. “I’m not polite because of a code of honour, Ray, my manners do follow most modern etiquette."
“So why are you polite? Why am I being polite?”
“I’m a Canadian, Ray.”
Ray sighed. “Okay, so what, all Canadians say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’?”
"I'm a Canadian-Canadian."
“Like there’s a difference?”
“We’re not actually Canadians. Well, we are Canadians, that’s why we have the name ‘Canadians’ but we lived in Canada before it was Canada.”
“You’re not making any sense, Benny," Ray protested, wondering if he shouldn’t have turned the closet light on.
“No, I’m not,” Fraser paused. “I’m not entirely human, Ray.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m Canadian.”
Ray was ready to bang his head against the closet wall. “We’ve been through this already! You’re Canadian, you’re polite, and that’s what you do. This is not what I do.”
“Yes, but I’m not human , I’m Canadian.”
“Canadians are human.” Although Ray had often wondered otherwise.
“That’s why I said I was a Canadian,-Canadian.”
“Okay. So, what is a Canadian,-Canadian?”
“We lived in Canada for a long time before the rest of society was established. We’re slightly different.”
“You’re polite.”
“Yes, Ray, our politeness is an inborn reaction. We are born to be polite and loyal. We also have heightened senses but that’s unrelated to the politeness. At least as far as I know. Some of our people interbred with the humans that came to Canada and that’s why it’s a cultural stereotype that Canadians are polite.”
Ray hoped no-one could hear this through the thin closet door. “So, you’re telling me you aren’t human, you're some sort of super polite alien?”
“We originated on earth, Ray and share a common ancestor with humans although our evolutionary paths diverged…”
“What does any of this have to do with me being polite?” Ray interrupted.
“Ah, you see, Ray, you're also Canadian."
“I am not Canadian! I’m American.”
“Then you’re a Canadian American.”
“You can’t be both unless you have dual citizenship and I don’t have that,” Ray pointed out.
“I meant you’re no longer entirely human, Ray. You’re not human, you’re Canadian.”
Ray looked at his lover, slightly shocked. “What exactly did you do to me last night?”
“I converted you, Ray.”
“Into what? A Methodist?” Ray asked, though he was pretty sure he’d have known if that had happened.
“No, Ray, into a Canadian.”
A few beats went by as Ray put it all together. “You made me polite!”
“Among other things, yes, Ray.”
Ray paced in the confines of the closet. “Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t have any choice, Ray.”
"You didn’t have any choice?!”
Fraser seemed to be ashamed as he hung his head. “Yes, and I’m sorry. I should have told you but I was afraid you might refuse.”
Ray folded his arms. “And why would you think that?”
“Well, given your current emotional state…”
"You still haven't told me why you did it.”
“If I hadn’t, we would have…”
“Would have what?” Ray waited impatiently.
“Died.”
“Died? Of what, bad manners? We don’t say ‘please’ so some big lightning bolt comes from the sky?”
“It was an oversight on my part, Ray. I didn't realise until we’d erm…mated that, in doing so, I’d bound us together.”
Ray tried to keep calm. Fraser was now literality turning his life upside down. “Okay, so this has to do with sex? And ‘mating’? Is that some Canadian euphemism for sex?”
“Mating isn’t actually sex, Ray. Well, it is and it isn’t. When there’s a full moon and you have sex with your partner you tie them to you and the only way to stop the tie being broken and causing us both to suffer a painful death was to convert you and complete the ritual.”
“That wasn’t Inuit you were chanting last night, was it?” Ray almost wished it had been. He’d take Inuit over this any day.
“No, Ray.”
“So what does this mean? That’s it, we’re together?
“Yes, Ray. For the rest of our lives.”
Ray noted Fraser sounded very happy with the idea. “I don’t get any choice?”
“You said you loved me, Ray.”
“I do love you, Benny, but I’ve never been with a guy like this before, okay? It’s not like I’ve had a lot of luck with relationships and now you’re telling me I’m not even human anymore?”
“I love you, Ray.”
Ray tried to ignore the warm feeling he got when Fraser said that. “Like that’s supposed to make everything better?”
“I know this is a shock, Ray…”
“Shock? I’m polite. I don’t get the choice to say ‘thank you kindly’, I just do.”
“You will be able to over-ride that compulsion in time, Ray.”
“In time, Benny,” Ray emphasised the words. “I have a reputation to maintain here. I’m not the polite one; you’re the polite one, good cop, bad cop, you get it?”
Fraser went quiet for a moment. “I see, Ray. Although I wouldn’t say your methods of policing are bad. In fact, you have a very high success rate.”
“That was a metaphor. You turned me into a Canadian. How come you didn’t know about any of this before?” Fraser was supposed to know everything and he should have known about something this important.
“I had miscalculated the timing of the full moon.. It was an unfortunate oversight caused by a shift in the…”
Ray held up a hand. “Spare me the details, and tell me how I can stop being polite.”
“You can’t stop it, Ray. You will feel a compulsion but if you learn to recognise it quickly enough, you can over-ride it.”
“You never have,” Ray said, forlornly.
“I’ve never had any need to. And I’ve grown up being Canadian.”
“Okay, so I just have to concentrate and make sure I’m not too polite. I can do that,” Ray said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
“There’s also your diet, Ray.”
“What about it?”
“You will need to ingest pemmican.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Ray wasn’t very keen on the desiccated meat.
“No, Ray. And you will find you can see and hear things better. And your sense of smell and taste will have improved.”
“I am not licking mud.”
“Mud does have some minerals in it that are….
“No way am I eating mud, even if Canadians have to.” There were some things Ray would not be happy doing; he’d rather suck blood than lick mud.
“We don’t have to, Ray. We can if we want to.”
Ray grimaced. “That’s disgusting,” he paused, realising. “How come I’m not polite with you?”
“Well, we’re mated, Ray, we’re always honest with each other.”
“I can’t lie to you?” Ray asked.
“You couldn’t before.”
“But now I can’t even if I wanted to?”
“No, Ray.”
Ray shook his head. “You know, I better start figuring out how not to say please.”
“You could be polite some of the time, Ray. Elaine told me she was very pleased you thanked her. Sometimes politeness has certain advantages.”
“It does for you but not for me.” So far it had given him two lots of paperwork and a lousy cup of coffee.
“Ray, at least try. I know this isn’t easy.”
“No it’s not. Easy would be being able to tell Hugo his coffee tasted worse than the oil I put in the Riv.”
Fraser frowned. “But that would be rude.”
“I liked being able to tell people the truth.”
“Ah.”
“I’m not going to be able to lie properly, am I?”
“No, Ray. Although…”
“I can learn to control the compulsion comma I get it.” Ray did get it, but getting it and putting it into practice were two different things.
“There is something else, Ray.”
“What?”
“Well, I can’t show you here, but Canadians have the capability to do something humans can’t.”
“Why can’t you show me here?”
Fraser lowered his voice. “It requires a bed, Ray.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Ray.”
Ray opened the closet and practically dragged Fraser out of it. He placed a hand on Fraser’s chest. “Okay. Hang on a minute.”
He patted Fraser’s arm and raced back to the squad room. He headed straight to Welsh's office, knocking and waiting patiently for a reply.
“Come on.”
Ray was careful with the door and politely stepped inside. He smiled at his superior. “Lieutenant?”
“Yes, Vecchio?”
Ray took a cleansing breath and went with his instincts; he didn’t fight them this time. “Please can I have the afternoon off? A delicate situation of a domestic nature has cropped up and I’d really appreciate being able to take some time to sort it out. I know it’s not beneficial to your staffing strategy but I’d be happy to repay the time back at a later date.”
It took a few moments for Welsh to reply. “Are you feeling all right, Ray?”
“I’m perfectly fine, sir, thanks for asking.”
Welsh just stared at him. “You’ve got the rest of the day off and don’t worry about paying the time back, just take it easy.”
“Thank you, sir. I hope you enjoy your day.”
“Bye, Vecchio.”
Ray was smiling as he left Welsh’s office and went to collect Fraser. Fraser was now in the squad room talking to Elaine.
"Excuse me, Elaine," said Ray, as he took Fraser by the arm and steered him to the exit. “Come on, let’s go to your place and you can show me this thing we can do.”
“What about Lieutenant Welsh? Isn’t he upset you’re taking the afternoon off?”
“Let’s just say I’m finding being a Canadian American isn’t all bad, Benny.”
“Oh. I see, Ray.”
“Come on, before I start telling Huey what a great detective he is.”
“But he is a…”
“Just stop that compulsion,” Ray said, half seriously.
“Understood, Ray. You know, I think there’s a lot we can learn from each other.”
“Yeah, there probably is. Anything else special we get to do? Flying?”
“No, Ray, although we can leap across buildings with practice. I think we should practice some of our other talents first though.” HA!
Ray grinned. “Understood, Benny. Understood.”
Ray had to admit he was looking forward to finding out what exactly what they were going to be able to do in bed. Maybe then he might introduce Fraser to some American traditions. After-all, the Riv was waiting.
Author: Aingeal
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: PG
Summary: Ray finds himself being polite and he wants to know why he can't stop his manners.
Notes: Last one for this challenge (I think *g*). This is a little bit crackier than the last 3. And once more thanks to
leda_speaks for beta-ing my crack. Maple Syrup Related Compulsions
Ray Vecchio was in a bad mood. He had so much paperwork he hadn’t seen the surface of his desk in a week. He had Louise on his back over not one, not two, but three upcoming court cases and last night his lover had done some very strange things that included biting him while chanting in some weird language. Ray was ready to snap.
Elaine approached his desk, smiling. She'd be an easy target. She handed Ray yet another file. “The Frinsky case,” she said.
“Thank you kindly, Elaine.” Ray said. Instead of the scowl he had expected to give her he’d smiled, actually smiled a genuine smile, and thanked her without a hint of sarcasm.
Elaine winked. “I see someone is rubbing off on you.”
Ray was open-mouthed as she walked away. What had just happened? Why had he smiled? Thanked her for the extra paperwork he didn’t need? Maybe it was just some sort of early morning thing, he decided. Maybe all he needed was a cup of coffee. He got up from his desk and headed to the lunchroom.
He nodded a greeting to the other cops in the lunchroom. It was a normal, quiet, morning. Except he hadn’t made a smart remark yet. Hugo was filling the coffee machine and handed Ray a cup of coffee. “Here you go, detective.”
Ray took the proffered cup. It smelt awful, really awful, he could smell it before he even raised it to his lips. He gingerly lifted it up and took a sip. It tasted awful; it was by far the worst cup of coffee he’d ever tasted but, although inside he wanted to grimace, he wasn’t grimacing. He was smiling a little at Hugo. “Thank you, Hugo,” Ray said. “It’s not bad.”
“Thank you, Detective,” Hugo replied.
Ray left the lunchroom with the foul coffee and proceeded to dump the cup into the nearest bin. He spat out the terrible taste. Why couldn’t he tell Hugo it tasted worse than paint? Why had he even thanked the guy for nearly poisoning him? Something was wrong, Ray felt, very wrong.
Huey was at Ray’s desk when he got back. “Hey, Ray, could you check this report for me? It’s on the centre street robbery.”
Ray wanted to tell Huey no, he had enough paperwork to do himself, he was snowed under. That had been the case And anyway, that had been the case Huey had refused his help with. Ray had offered, but he'd been turned down. No way was he going to look at it.
“Sure, Jack, just leave it on my desk,” Ray said.
“Thanks, Ray,” Huey replied and dumped the file on top of the rest of Ray’s paperwork.
Ray picked it up and stared at it. He wanted to call after Huey, tell him to do his own paperwork but he couldn’t. Ray was now very worried. He was grateful when Fraser dropped by at lunchtime; he needed answers and he felt his Mountie was the one to give him them.
“Hello, Ray,” Fraser said, cheerfully.
Ray grabbed Fraser and dragged him to the nearest closet. He pushed Fraser inside and shut the door.
“Don’t tell me ‘hello’, Benny,” Ray said.
“Are you all right, Ray?”
“No, I am not all right,” Ray replied, trying not to raise his voice.
“What’s wrong? “
“What did you do to me, Benny?” Ray asked.
“In what sense, Ray?” Fraser replied, tugging at his ear.
“You know damn well what sense,” Ray said, jabbing an accusing finger in Fraser’s direction. “All day I’ve been polite to people.”
“And is that a problem, Ray?”
“Yes, it’s a problem! I’m not you, Fraser, I don’t need to be polite because of some Mountie code of honour.”
“Ah.”
“Ah? What’s ‘ah’?”
Fraser cleared his throat. “I’m not polite because of a code of honour, Ray, my manners do follow most modern etiquette."
“So why are you polite? Why am I being polite?”
“I’m a Canadian, Ray.”
Ray sighed. “Okay, so what, all Canadians say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’?”
"I'm a Canadian-Canadian."
“Like there’s a difference?”
“We’re not actually Canadians. Well, we are Canadians, that’s why we have the name ‘Canadians’ but we lived in Canada before it was Canada.”
“You’re not making any sense, Benny," Ray protested, wondering if he shouldn’t have turned the closet light on.
“No, I’m not,” Fraser paused. “I’m not entirely human, Ray.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m Canadian.”
Ray was ready to bang his head against the closet wall. “We’ve been through this already! You’re Canadian, you’re polite, and that’s what you do. This is not what I do.”
“Yes, but I’m not human , I’m Canadian.”
“Canadians are human.” Although Ray had often wondered otherwise.
“That’s why I said I was a Canadian,-Canadian.”
“Okay. So, what is a Canadian,-Canadian?”
“We lived in Canada for a long time before the rest of society was established. We’re slightly different.”
“You’re polite.”
“Yes, Ray, our politeness is an inborn reaction. We are born to be polite and loyal. We also have heightened senses but that’s unrelated to the politeness. At least as far as I know. Some of our people interbred with the humans that came to Canada and that’s why it’s a cultural stereotype that Canadians are polite.”
Ray hoped no-one could hear this through the thin closet door. “So, you’re telling me you aren’t human, you're some sort of super polite alien?”
“We originated on earth, Ray and share a common ancestor with humans although our evolutionary paths diverged…”
“What does any of this have to do with me being polite?” Ray interrupted.
“Ah, you see, Ray, you're also Canadian."
“I am not Canadian! I’m American.”
“Then you’re a Canadian American.”
“You can’t be both unless you have dual citizenship and I don’t have that,” Ray pointed out.
“I meant you’re no longer entirely human, Ray. You’re not human, you’re Canadian.”
Ray looked at his lover, slightly shocked. “What exactly did you do to me last night?”
“I converted you, Ray.”
“Into what? A Methodist?” Ray asked, though he was pretty sure he’d have known if that had happened.
“No, Ray, into a Canadian.”
A few beats went by as Ray put it all together. “You made me polite!”
“Among other things, yes, Ray.”
Ray paced in the confines of the closet. “Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t have any choice, Ray.”
"You didn’t have any choice?!”
Fraser seemed to be ashamed as he hung his head. “Yes, and I’m sorry. I should have told you but I was afraid you might refuse.”
Ray folded his arms. “And why would you think that?”
“Well, given your current emotional state…”
"You still haven't told me why you did it.”
“If I hadn’t, we would have…”
“Would have what?” Ray waited impatiently.
“Died.”
“Died? Of what, bad manners? We don’t say ‘please’ so some big lightning bolt comes from the sky?”
“It was an oversight on my part, Ray. I didn't realise until we’d erm…mated that, in doing so, I’d bound us together.”
Ray tried to keep calm. Fraser was now literality turning his life upside down. “Okay, so this has to do with sex? And ‘mating’? Is that some Canadian euphemism for sex?”
“Mating isn’t actually sex, Ray. Well, it is and it isn’t. When there’s a full moon and you have sex with your partner you tie them to you and the only way to stop the tie being broken and causing us both to suffer a painful death was to convert you and complete the ritual.”
“That wasn’t Inuit you were chanting last night, was it?” Ray almost wished it had been. He’d take Inuit over this any day.
“No, Ray.”
“So what does this mean? That’s it, we’re together?
“Yes, Ray. For the rest of our lives.”
Ray noted Fraser sounded very happy with the idea. “I don’t get any choice?”
“You said you loved me, Ray.”
“I do love you, Benny, but I’ve never been with a guy like this before, okay? It’s not like I’ve had a lot of luck with relationships and now you’re telling me I’m not even human anymore?”
“I love you, Ray.”
Ray tried to ignore the warm feeling he got when Fraser said that. “Like that’s supposed to make everything better?”
“I know this is a shock, Ray…”
“Shock? I’m polite. I don’t get the choice to say ‘thank you kindly’, I just do.”
“You will be able to over-ride that compulsion in time, Ray.”
“In time, Benny,” Ray emphasised the words. “I have a reputation to maintain here. I’m not the polite one; you’re the polite one, good cop, bad cop, you get it?”
Fraser went quiet for a moment. “I see, Ray. Although I wouldn’t say your methods of policing are bad. In fact, you have a very high success rate.”
“That was a metaphor. You turned me into a Canadian. How come you didn’t know about any of this before?” Fraser was supposed to know everything and he should have known about something this important.
“I had miscalculated the timing of the full moon.. It was an unfortunate oversight caused by a shift in the…”
Ray held up a hand. “Spare me the details, and tell me how I can stop being polite.”
“You can’t stop it, Ray. You will feel a compulsion but if you learn to recognise it quickly enough, you can over-ride it.”
“You never have,” Ray said, forlornly.
“I’ve never had any need to. And I’ve grown up being Canadian.”
“Okay, so I just have to concentrate and make sure I’m not too polite. I can do that,” Ray said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
“There’s also your diet, Ray.”
“What about it?”
“You will need to ingest pemmican.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Ray wasn’t very keen on the desiccated meat.
“No, Ray. And you will find you can see and hear things better. And your sense of smell and taste will have improved.”
“I am not licking mud.”
“Mud does have some minerals in it that are….
“No way am I eating mud, even if Canadians have to.” There were some things Ray would not be happy doing; he’d rather suck blood than lick mud.
“We don’t have to, Ray. We can if we want to.”
Ray grimaced. “That’s disgusting,” he paused, realising. “How come I’m not polite with you?”
“Well, we’re mated, Ray, we’re always honest with each other.”
“I can’t lie to you?” Ray asked.
“You couldn’t before.”
“But now I can’t even if I wanted to?”
“No, Ray.”
Ray shook his head. “You know, I better start figuring out how not to say please.”
“You could be polite some of the time, Ray. Elaine told me she was very pleased you thanked her. Sometimes politeness has certain advantages.”
“It does for you but not for me.” So far it had given him two lots of paperwork and a lousy cup of coffee.
“Ray, at least try. I know this isn’t easy.”
“No it’s not. Easy would be being able to tell Hugo his coffee tasted worse than the oil I put in the Riv.”
Fraser frowned. “But that would be rude.”
“I liked being able to tell people the truth.”
“Ah.”
“I’m not going to be able to lie properly, am I?”
“No, Ray. Although…”
“I can learn to control the compulsion comma I get it.” Ray did get it, but getting it and putting it into practice were two different things.
“There is something else, Ray.”
“What?”
“Well, I can’t show you here, but Canadians have the capability to do something humans can’t.”
“Why can’t you show me here?”
Fraser lowered his voice. “It requires a bed, Ray.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Ray.”
Ray opened the closet and practically dragged Fraser out of it. He placed a hand on Fraser’s chest. “Okay. Hang on a minute.”
He patted Fraser’s arm and raced back to the squad room. He headed straight to Welsh's office, knocking and waiting patiently for a reply.
“Come on.”
Ray was careful with the door and politely stepped inside. He smiled at his superior. “Lieutenant?”
“Yes, Vecchio?”
Ray took a cleansing breath and went with his instincts; he didn’t fight them this time. “Please can I have the afternoon off? A delicate situation of a domestic nature has cropped up and I’d really appreciate being able to take some time to sort it out. I know it’s not beneficial to your staffing strategy but I’d be happy to repay the time back at a later date.”
It took a few moments for Welsh to reply. “Are you feeling all right, Ray?”
“I’m perfectly fine, sir, thanks for asking.”
Welsh just stared at him. “You’ve got the rest of the day off and don’t worry about paying the time back, just take it easy.”
“Thank you, sir. I hope you enjoy your day.”
“Bye, Vecchio.”
Ray was smiling as he left Welsh’s office and went to collect Fraser. Fraser was now in the squad room talking to Elaine.
"Excuse me, Elaine," said Ray, as he took Fraser by the arm and steered him to the exit. “Come on, let’s go to your place and you can show me this thing we can do.”
“What about Lieutenant Welsh? Isn’t he upset you’re taking the afternoon off?”
“Let’s just say I’m finding being a Canadian American isn’t all bad, Benny.”
“Oh. I see, Ray.”
“Come on, before I start telling Huey what a great detective he is.”
“But he is a…”
“Just stop that compulsion,” Ray said, half seriously.
“Understood, Ray. You know, I think there’s a lot we can learn from each other.”
“Yeah, there probably is. Anything else special we get to do? Flying?”
“No, Ray, although we can leap across buildings with practice. I think we should practice some of our other talents first though.” HA!
Ray grinned. “Understood, Benny. Understood.”
Ray had to admit he was looking forward to finding out what exactly what they were going to be able to do in bed. Maybe then he might introduce Fraser to some American traditions. After-all, the Riv was waiting.
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no subject
Date: 2008-02-02 11:33 pm (UTC)Heh, grouchy Ray would find it a problem to be polite all the time! :)
I must admit, I do like snarky Ray. ;)
no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 11:31 am (UTC)Poor Ray, I am sure he'll be able to get the hang of it and get his snark back. If not he can just be snarky with Benny ;-)
Thanks for reading.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-02 11:33 pm (UTC)^_^
no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 11:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 06:53 am (UTC)Okay, that line cracked me up. This was fun and silly...great job.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 11:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 09:00 am (UTC)Ah, Aingeal strikes again.
Such fun.
Very 'them' and just so good.
Ray took a cleansing breath and went with his instincts; he didn’t fight them this time. “Please can I have the afternoon off? A delicate situation of a domestic nature has cropped up and I’d really appreciate being able to take some time to sort it out. I know it’s not beneficial to your staffing strategy but I’d be happy to repay the time back at a later date.”
Oh, this is priceless.
Excellent.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 11:37 am (UTC)Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
And it was hard to have Ray being polite but it was worth it. :-)
no subject
Date: 2008-02-04 02:10 pm (UTC)Oh, I did.
Oh definitely.
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Date: 2008-02-04 08:58 pm (UTC):-)
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Date: 2008-02-05 09:48 am (UTC)I'm glad you are glad.
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Date: 2008-02-05 12:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 01:33 pm (UTC)You, coming up and writing down this reason is on the other hand....
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Date: 2008-02-03 06:36 pm (UTC)I thought it was a neat idea ;-)
I know it begins with C.
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Date: 2008-02-04 01:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-04 12:49 pm (UTC)