Oooh, and it's only Thursday...
Jun. 26th, 2003 01:37 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
the-star-fish.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionThis is a bit of backstory for an AU I'm working on (yes, that AU). It's been swimming in my head for a while, so I thought I'd write it out. It turned out pretty much like I wanted, which is always gratifying ....
749 words.
Ray walked back into the CYC gym hesitantly. Practice was over, but like he'd thought, there was the new coach, shooting free throws. Making them, too.
"Hey," said Ray when the guy finally missed one.
Coach Welsh turned to look at him. "Hey," he said agreeably. "Kowalski, wasn't it? Stan?"
Ray winced. "Half right," he said. "I go by Ray, though."
"Don't blame you. I used to hate my name too. Harding. Never could figure out a way to shorten it, though."
"What's your middle name?" said Ray, wanting to be helpful and also just trying to drag the conversation out.
"Roosevelt," said Coach.
"Damn," said Ray. Coach nodded. "So listen," said Ray, catching the ball the coach suddenly passed him and dribbling carefully, "some of the guys were saying you're a cop."
"Yeah."
"Cool, so, can I like, talk to you? Ask you a couple questions?"
"What about?"
Ray shot the ball toward the hoop. It hit the rim and bounced away. He shrugged and watched it go. "Just -- my old man and my girlfriend -- they don't get it. They're all over me about it, all the time."
"About what?"
"Being a cop. I want to join the force soon's I get out of high school. And Dad -- well, he had some bad times with some bad cops, I guess, and Stella just says it's low-cl--" Ray shut his mouth on what Stella said, remembering almost too late who he was talking to. "Well, she doesn't like it either."
"What do you want me to do about it, kid?"
Ray shrugged again, studying the toes of his high-tops. "Is it ... worth it?" he said quietly.
Coach didn't say anything for a second, and Ray looked up at him. He had a funny look on his face. Finally he said, "How bad do they hate the idea?"
"Bad," said Ray. "Dad ... well, he can carry a grudge a long time. I'm afraid he'd --" He stopped, unable to say what he was afraid of.
"And your girl? Stella?" asked Coach softly.
Ray smiled sadly. "Yeah, she's got a temper sometimes. You know how women can get."
"Mmm," said Coach. He put his hand on Ray's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Well, it's not my decision to make, kid; you know them and I don't. You have to decide if it's worth it to you."
Ray nodded, not trusting his voice just then. He twisted away from Coach's hand and darted over to where the ball had ended up a few feet away. "Horse?" he said as he picked up the ball and passed it from hand to hand.
Coach looked at his watch, then back at Ray. "Sure," he said, "But you'll never get past H."
"Says you," said Ray. "Hey, maybe that could be your nickname -- H."
"Maybe," Coach said, stealing the ball and making an easy lay-up. "Let's see if you can keep up with me."
"Shouldn't be too tough," said Ray, grinning. "You're kind of old."
Coach laughed. "Smartass kid," he said. "Show me what you got."
And Ray tried, he really did, but there didn't ever seem to be a point where he had control of the game. And at the end, the coach had called it -- he hadn't even gotten to H.
"Good game," said the coach, coming over to where Ray was bent over trying to catch his breath. "You should probably head for home, though, and I've got to go to work."
"Okay," puffed Ray. "See you on Wednesday."
"You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just ... I'll be fine."
"See you Wednesday, then," said Coach. He picked up his jacket and walked toward the exit.
"Hey, Coach?" said Ray, just before he got to the door. "Thanks."
Coach nodded. "Any time, Ray," he said. "And ... call me H."
Ray grinned again and waved. H waved back and left, the door closing quietly behind him. He was a good guy, Ray thought, as he grabbed his own jacket and headed out. Maybe if Dad met him ....
He shook his head in disgust. Dad had never been one to change his mind, and Ray didn't think he'd start now. Not on this. So the decision was Ray's -- and it really wasn't much of a choice, was it? He knew he couldn't risk losing Stella and his dad, not for a job.
It was just a job, after all.
749 words.
Ray walked back into the CYC gym hesitantly. Practice was over, but like he'd thought, there was the new coach, shooting free throws. Making them, too.
"Hey," said Ray when the guy finally missed one.
Coach Welsh turned to look at him. "Hey," he said agreeably. "Kowalski, wasn't it? Stan?"
Ray winced. "Half right," he said. "I go by Ray, though."
"Don't blame you. I used to hate my name too. Harding. Never could figure out a way to shorten it, though."
"What's your middle name?" said Ray, wanting to be helpful and also just trying to drag the conversation out.
"Roosevelt," said Coach.
"Damn," said Ray. Coach nodded. "So listen," said Ray, catching the ball the coach suddenly passed him and dribbling carefully, "some of the guys were saying you're a cop."
"Yeah."
"Cool, so, can I like, talk to you? Ask you a couple questions?"
"What about?"
Ray shot the ball toward the hoop. It hit the rim and bounced away. He shrugged and watched it go. "Just -- my old man and my girlfriend -- they don't get it. They're all over me about it, all the time."
"About what?"
"Being a cop. I want to join the force soon's I get out of high school. And Dad -- well, he had some bad times with some bad cops, I guess, and Stella just says it's low-cl--" Ray shut his mouth on what Stella said, remembering almost too late who he was talking to. "Well, she doesn't like it either."
"What do you want me to do about it, kid?"
Ray shrugged again, studying the toes of his high-tops. "Is it ... worth it?" he said quietly.
Coach didn't say anything for a second, and Ray looked up at him. He had a funny look on his face. Finally he said, "How bad do they hate the idea?"
"Bad," said Ray. "Dad ... well, he can carry a grudge a long time. I'm afraid he'd --" He stopped, unable to say what he was afraid of.
"And your girl? Stella?" asked Coach softly.
Ray smiled sadly. "Yeah, she's got a temper sometimes. You know how women can get."
"Mmm," said Coach. He put his hand on Ray's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Well, it's not my decision to make, kid; you know them and I don't. You have to decide if it's worth it to you."
Ray nodded, not trusting his voice just then. He twisted away from Coach's hand and darted over to where the ball had ended up a few feet away. "Horse?" he said as he picked up the ball and passed it from hand to hand.
Coach looked at his watch, then back at Ray. "Sure," he said, "But you'll never get past H."
"Says you," said Ray. "Hey, maybe that could be your nickname -- H."
"Maybe," Coach said, stealing the ball and making an easy lay-up. "Let's see if you can keep up with me."
"Shouldn't be too tough," said Ray, grinning. "You're kind of old."
Coach laughed. "Smartass kid," he said. "Show me what you got."
And Ray tried, he really did, but there didn't ever seem to be a point where he had control of the game. And at the end, the coach had called it -- he hadn't even gotten to H.
"Good game," said the coach, coming over to where Ray was bent over trying to catch his breath. "You should probably head for home, though, and I've got to go to work."
"Okay," puffed Ray. "See you on Wednesday."
"You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just ... I'll be fine."
"See you Wednesday, then," said Coach. He picked up his jacket and walked toward the exit.
"Hey, Coach?" said Ray, just before he got to the door. "Thanks."
Coach nodded. "Any time, Ray," he said. "And ... call me H."
Ray grinned again and waved. H waved back and left, the door closing quietly behind him. He was a good guy, Ray thought, as he grabbed his own jacket and headed out. Maybe if Dad met him ....
He shook his head in disgust. Dad had never been one to change his mind, and Ray didn't think he'd start now. Not on this. So the decision was Ray's -- and it really wasn't much of a choice, was it? He knew he couldn't risk losing Stella and his dad, not for a job.
It was just a job, after all.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 10:55 am (UTC)And yes, I *am* waiting for more of the AU, thank you kindly.
no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 11:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 11:26 am (UTC)I love this sequence, hon. Of course, pretty much anything with Welsh in it is going to earn a few extra points, but even *apart* from that... *g*
no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 12:03 pm (UTC)So pleased you liked this.
no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 11:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 12:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 11:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 12:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 12:06 pm (UTC)::looks determined::
no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 12:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 12:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 12:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 01:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 01:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 07:36 pm (UTC)It was just a job, after all.
This is wonderful stuff, I can SO see Ray making that decision and going in the other direction. I'd be curious to know what Stella thought of his current job.
no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 08:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-27 06:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-28 01:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-28 08:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-30 12:51 pm (UTC)*mwah!*
-R
no subject
Date: 2003-06-30 02:38 pm (UTC)Am thisclose to getting L into the Apple Store... yay!!