mrsronweasley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mrsronweasley) wrote2007-01-23 01:19 pm
mrsronweasley) wrote2007-01-23 01:19 pm
Meme answers, in drabble form.
So, I have written two drabbles. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lilac_one and nos4a2no9, yours will be ready soon. :D
Also, apparently, by a hundred words, I meant, like, 600-1000. Ooops? I really fail at being brief.
Forbathsweaver, who wanted a year or so after Practical Diplomacy, Vecchio and Fraser talking about Kowalski.
"The Best Defense"
“So, Benny, how do you feel?” Professor Vecchio looked relaxed, slouching against the back of his leather chair, his hands joined above his middle. Ben wished he could feel as relaxed. The only good thing about him being this tense was the fact that it was preventing the contents of his stomach from escaping through his esophagus.
“Fine,” he answered. Even to his own ears, his tone sounded clipped, and the words rang hollow.
“Uh-huh. Sure you are.”
“Well, I’m not certain how I am expected to feel, since I am about to -” Ben stopped. The words ‘defend my thesis’ couldn’t even escape his lips. Perhaps he wasn’t tense enough. “Excuse me.”
Ben heard Vecchio’s “sure thing, Benny!” as he dashed out of the third-floor office and ran quickly into the third-floor men’s room, with barely enough time to bend over the nearest toilet before he heaved.
“All better?” Vecchio asked as soon as Ben made his slow way back to the office. Ben dry-swallowed and carefully sat down in his vacated chair.
“Much. Thank you.”
Vecchio cracked a grin and finally came out of his slouch. “All right, listen up, Benny. You are your own harshest critic – that is no secret. Kowalski, there,” he pointed vaguely at the floor, indicating Ray’s office below, “agrees with me on this.”
“He- he does?” Ben schooled his expression to one of mild curiosity, as opposed to blind panic. The professor, oblivious to the real source of Ben’s current worry, shrugged in answer.
“It’s not like it’s a big secret, or anything, Benny.”
Maybe not so oblivious. Ben nearly threw up again, and only managed not to do so through sheer for of will. His voice cracked when he asked, “It isn’t?”
“Benny, everybody knows.”
“They do?” He was beginning to lose the tenuous grip on his sanity. If he and Ray had been discovered– there would be– hearing upon hearing between all manner of disciplinary committees- it would mean the end of Ray’s career, and Ben’s, and–
“You don’t hide things well, you know that, right?”
Ben could barely make himself shake his head. He gripped the chair underneath him. Vecchio sighed and gave a low chuckle. “Of course you’re your own worst critic, Benny, and even the secretaries around here know that. My point is, relax. You’ve done good. You have nothing to worry about, all right?”
The relief was so great, Ben nearly threw up again. He held himself in check, however, forced a smile, and riding a reckless wave of pleasure, even ventured so far as to ask:
“Do you speak with Professor Kowalski often?” He was simply making sure, testing the ground, so to speak. When Vecchio’s eyes squinted at him, Ben thought he had gone too far, asked too much. Again.
“Every now and then, at meetings. Sometimes we eat lunch together. Why, you fishing for another compliment, Benny?”
Ben flushed and dropped his gaze to watch his shoes. He’d shined them for twenty minutes that morning, to two matching tones of teasing voices, Diefenbaker’s being the loudest and most grating.
“Not at all.”
“I’m just teasing ya. He only has good things to say about you, Benny, I promise.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
Vecchio paused, and allowed his smile to spread wider. “You know, you’ve been my student for, what, two semesters now? When are you going to start calling me by my name, Benny? This isn’t undergrad, you know.”
Ben smiled in answer to his professor’s easy grin, and thought that if he had to have had two Rays in his life, he was very happy, indeed, as to who they had turned out to be.
*
Forpearl_o, who asked for approximately six months after "A Funny Thing Happened...". (By the way, I never actually made it explicit, but this fic is a pre-cursor to the events of "...and this is what it's for...", as well as "(This Must Be) The Place". And, basically, that whole universe...)
"On the House"
"So, any plans for the evening?"
"You're lookin' at 'em." Paula watched Ray take a sip of his beer and laughed, the glass in her hand nearly slipping out of her grasp.
"Awww. The Corporal not back yet?"
Ray plonked the bottle down on the counter and shook his head. "Nope. Not due back for another couple of days. Got bored at home."
"Aww." Paula couldn't help giggling when Ray levelled her with a stare. "Sorry, Ray. You're just all..."
"What?" He looked almost dangerous like that, but Paula knew better. She didn't fall for the 'hard cop from a dangerous city' schtick anymore, not after seeing him with those kids on the ice, holding court.
"Nothing, it's just -"
"If you say 'cute' one more time, I'm gonna pop you one," Ray warned. She burst out into actual laughter. He scowled into the beer.
"Sorry, Ray. Here, that one's on the house, all right?"
He made a show of rolling his eyes and sighing, but took a long pull, anyway, and Paula tried not to ogle him too much as he drank with his eyes closed, eyelashes casting deep shadows above his cheeks. It wasn't even because he was old enough to be her father (he most definitely wasn't), but she always felt creepy being attracted to married people.
The Corporal didn't go away all that often, and it was never for very long, but it always seemed to put Ray on edge, so she decided a change in topic was best.
"So, how was work today? The kids do all right?"
Ray, still swallowing his beer, nodded almost enthusiastically. "Yeah, they're gettin' there. Pat's becoming surer on his feet, even got the puck a few times today."
"Hey, good for him!" Her little bro was a pain in the ass, but he loved hockey, even if he was still kind of crap at it. "You teach him any new tricks?" She winked at Ray - out of habit - and tried not to laugh too hard when he rolled his eyes again.
"I'm just tryin' to get them on their feet for now, not teach 'em -"
A gust of cold air hit the bar as the front door flew open, and Paula barely had time to register the broad figure standing there when Ray changed right in front of her eyes. She tried to hide her smile as Ray's beer was quickly forgotten on the counter, and she herself became just another part of the background. Ray didn't get off the stool, and it was clear he was trying very hard to remain cool, but the look on the Corporal's face - equal parts love and that something that made naysayers back off faster than you could say 'crap' - spoke volumes for them both.
Paula watched as Corporal Fraser crossed the short distance between the door and Ray and only acknowledged her existence after he and Ray said their own hello's.
"Need a drink, Corporal?" she ventured.
"I'm quite all right, thank you, Paula. I believe I would like to go home, actually." He looked at Ray.
Ray shot out of the stool like it was on fire. "Sure thing, Ben. The Jeep's parked just outside."
"Yes," the Corporal frowned. "I saw that. Were you planning on driving under the influence, Ray?"
Ray's quick glance over at Paula was caged and panicked. He did something with his neck that made Paula think of a turtle more than anything else, and really, the man was just whipped. She covered her mouth with her hand and pretended to look serious.
"C'mon, Frase, it was one beer. I've driven under - uh. Right. You can drive." Ray tossed his keys to the Corporal, who caught them deftly and gave her a quick smile before taking his leave, Ray quick on his heels.
Before she was hit with another gust of cold air, Paula heard Ray point out again that it was just "one beer, I'm a big boy, Ben, and you're a buzz kill," and the Corporal's answer of, "oh, I'm aware, Ray. But I'm an officer of the law. I'm afraid it's in my nature to be a buzz kill."
Ray's clipped "Ha!" was soon cut off by the door shutting behind them.
*
lilac_one and nos4a2no9, yours will be ready soon. :DAlso, apparently, by a hundred words, I meant, like, 600-1000. Ooops? I really fail at being brief.
For
bathsweaver, who wanted a year or so after Practical Diplomacy, Vecchio and Fraser talking about Kowalski."The Best Defense"
“So, Benny, how do you feel?” Professor Vecchio looked relaxed, slouching against the back of his leather chair, his hands joined above his middle. Ben wished he could feel as relaxed. The only good thing about him being this tense was the fact that it was preventing the contents of his stomach from escaping through his esophagus.
“Fine,” he answered. Even to his own ears, his tone sounded clipped, and the words rang hollow.
“Uh-huh. Sure you are.”
“Well, I’m not certain how I am expected to feel, since I am about to -” Ben stopped. The words ‘defend my thesis’ couldn’t even escape his lips. Perhaps he wasn’t tense enough. “Excuse me.”
Ben heard Vecchio’s “sure thing, Benny!” as he dashed out of the third-floor office and ran quickly into the third-floor men’s room, with barely enough time to bend over the nearest toilet before he heaved.
“All better?” Vecchio asked as soon as Ben made his slow way back to the office. Ben dry-swallowed and carefully sat down in his vacated chair.
“Much. Thank you.”
Vecchio cracked a grin and finally came out of his slouch. “All right, listen up, Benny. You are your own harshest critic – that is no secret. Kowalski, there,” he pointed vaguely at the floor, indicating Ray’s office below, “agrees with me on this.”
“He- he does?” Ben schooled his expression to one of mild curiosity, as opposed to blind panic. The professor, oblivious to the real source of Ben’s current worry, shrugged in answer.
“It’s not like it’s a big secret, or anything, Benny.”
Maybe not so oblivious. Ben nearly threw up again, and only managed not to do so through sheer for of will. His voice cracked when he asked, “It isn’t?”
“Benny, everybody knows.”
“They do?” He was beginning to lose the tenuous grip on his sanity. If he and Ray had been discovered– there would be– hearing upon hearing between all manner of disciplinary committees- it would mean the end of Ray’s career, and Ben’s, and–
“You don’t hide things well, you know that, right?”
Ben could barely make himself shake his head. He gripped the chair underneath him. Vecchio sighed and gave a low chuckle. “Of course you’re your own worst critic, Benny, and even the secretaries around here know that. My point is, relax. You’ve done good. You have nothing to worry about, all right?”
The relief was so great, Ben nearly threw up again. He held himself in check, however, forced a smile, and riding a reckless wave of pleasure, even ventured so far as to ask:
“Do you speak with Professor Kowalski often?” He was simply making sure, testing the ground, so to speak. When Vecchio’s eyes squinted at him, Ben thought he had gone too far, asked too much. Again.
“Every now and then, at meetings. Sometimes we eat lunch together. Why, you fishing for another compliment, Benny?”
Ben flushed and dropped his gaze to watch his shoes. He’d shined them for twenty minutes that morning, to two matching tones of teasing voices, Diefenbaker’s being the loudest and most grating.
“Not at all.”
“I’m just teasing ya. He only has good things to say about you, Benny, I promise.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
Vecchio paused, and allowed his smile to spread wider. “You know, you’ve been my student for, what, two semesters now? When are you going to start calling me by my name, Benny? This isn’t undergrad, you know.”
Ben smiled in answer to his professor’s easy grin, and thought that if he had to have had two Rays in his life, he was very happy, indeed, as to who they had turned out to be.
*
For
pearl_o, who asked for approximately six months after "A Funny Thing Happened...". (By the way, I never actually made it explicit, but this fic is a pre-cursor to the events of "...and this is what it's for...", as well as "(This Must Be) The Place". And, basically, that whole universe...)"On the House"
"So, any plans for the evening?"
"You're lookin' at 'em." Paula watched Ray take a sip of his beer and laughed, the glass in her hand nearly slipping out of her grasp.
"Awww. The Corporal not back yet?"
Ray plonked the bottle down on the counter and shook his head. "Nope. Not due back for another couple of days. Got bored at home."
"Aww." Paula couldn't help giggling when Ray levelled her with a stare. "Sorry, Ray. You're just all..."
"What?" He looked almost dangerous like that, but Paula knew better. She didn't fall for the 'hard cop from a dangerous city' schtick anymore, not after seeing him with those kids on the ice, holding court.
"Nothing, it's just -"
"If you say 'cute' one more time, I'm gonna pop you one," Ray warned. She burst out into actual laughter. He scowled into the beer.
"Sorry, Ray. Here, that one's on the house, all right?"
He made a show of rolling his eyes and sighing, but took a long pull, anyway, and Paula tried not to ogle him too much as he drank with his eyes closed, eyelashes casting deep shadows above his cheeks. It wasn't even because he was old enough to be her father (he most definitely wasn't), but she always felt creepy being attracted to married people.
The Corporal didn't go away all that often, and it was never for very long, but it always seemed to put Ray on edge, so she decided a change in topic was best.
"So, how was work today? The kids do all right?"
Ray, still swallowing his beer, nodded almost enthusiastically. "Yeah, they're gettin' there. Pat's becoming surer on his feet, even got the puck a few times today."
"Hey, good for him!" Her little bro was a pain in the ass, but he loved hockey, even if he was still kind of crap at it. "You teach him any new tricks?" She winked at Ray - out of habit - and tried not to laugh too hard when he rolled his eyes again.
"I'm just tryin' to get them on their feet for now, not teach 'em -"
A gust of cold air hit the bar as the front door flew open, and Paula barely had time to register the broad figure standing there when Ray changed right in front of her eyes. She tried to hide her smile as Ray's beer was quickly forgotten on the counter, and she herself became just another part of the background. Ray didn't get off the stool, and it was clear he was trying very hard to remain cool, but the look on the Corporal's face - equal parts love and that something that made naysayers back off faster than you could say 'crap' - spoke volumes for them both.
Paula watched as Corporal Fraser crossed the short distance between the door and Ray and only acknowledged her existence after he and Ray said their own hello's.
"Need a drink, Corporal?" she ventured.
"I'm quite all right, thank you, Paula. I believe I would like to go home, actually." He looked at Ray.
Ray shot out of the stool like it was on fire. "Sure thing, Ben. The Jeep's parked just outside."
"Yes," the Corporal frowned. "I saw that. Were you planning on driving under the influence, Ray?"
Ray's quick glance over at Paula was caged and panicked. He did something with his neck that made Paula think of a turtle more than anything else, and really, the man was just whipped. She covered her mouth with her hand and pretended to look serious.
"C'mon, Frase, it was one beer. I've driven under - uh. Right. You can drive." Ray tossed his keys to the Corporal, who caught them deftly and gave her a quick smile before taking his leave, Ray quick on his heels.
Before she was hit with another gust of cold air, Paula heard Ray point out again that it was just "one beer, I'm a big boy, Ben, and you're a buzz kill," and the Corporal's answer of, "oh, I'm aware, Ray. But I'm an officer of the law. I'm afraid it's in my nature to be a buzz kill."
Ray's clipped "Ha!" was soon cut off by the door shutting behind them.
*
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