[for Asher]
There was nothing more satisfying than the clink of handcuffs around a perp's wrists or the clang of the holding cell's door as it locked for the night. As much as Ray had complained about his job over the years, he had missed it far more than he'd realized on the Island. He'd now officially been Detective First Grade Raymond Vecchio for a little under two weeks and he already had two arrests under his belt. Joint arrests, on the same day for the same crime, but that didn't matter. It was quantity, not quality that mattered right now. Taking bad guys off the street, putting them away and heading home feeling like he'd done a good day's work, that he'd made the city a better place.
Today, home had had to wait for...Ray squinted at his watch as he fumbled with his door key. Four--what? Four hours. How was it nearly midnight already? He was fairly sure, even after a few drinks, that he'd clocked off work at 7pm, so how could it possibly be nearly the next day? Unconvinced of his watch's accuracy, he dug his cell phone out of his pocket, giving it a shake when a black screen gaped up at him. No battery.
The lock gave way with a click and Ray spent a few moments attempting to get the key out of it before stepping over the threshold with a grateful sigh. There was a special feeling that came with knowing he'd earned good money today, that he was providing for his family, for Asher's kids. Kids he hadn't seen since sometime yesterday morning because they'd already been in bed by the time he'd gotten home last night and he was out the door before they'd woken this morning. Work was work though. It put food on the table, clothes on their backs and maybe one or two drinks in Ray's hand tonight. Three max.
Two criminals behind bars, three or four drinks in him and a wage that would hit his bank account any day now. Nearly midnight or not, today really was a great day.
(no subject)
Ray turned in a circle, instant anxiety in his voice.
"Celia?"
From between two skirts, a blond head popped out, followed by two arms and two legs and Ray's heart started beating again. The supermarket wasn't busy but the magazine aisle backed onto the greetings card aisle and there was a noticeable gaggle of people around a stand covered in hearts.
Rather than scolding her for disappearing, he took a deep breath, reminded himself that he was trying to strengthen his relationship with her, and gave her a smile instead. "What have you got?"
Clutched to her chest was a bright red envelope, the card's face hidden. "Something!" When Daniel tried to take a peek, she twisted from side to side to stop him.
Ray's smile slowly became a more natural one, tinged with good humor. When a gap appeared near the stand, he watched as Daniel sneaked in, pawing at a card of his own. "Someone's a lucky guy. Who are you gonna give that to?"
"Daddy," she replied matter-of-factly, like it should have been obvious, eliciting a low laugh from Ray.
"You're gonna show me up, kid," he commented, joining Daniel at the display.
"You're not allowed to give Daddy one! I'm only allowed to give Daddy one!"
"I'm giving Daddy this one," Daniel announced, showing his sister his choice, undeterred (for once) by the pout on his sister's face. Ray couldn't help feeling a little proud and he turned to pluck out the first card he saw. "And I'm giving him this one."
A little finger waved in his direction. "You can give him that one but none others, okay?" Celia stepped in close to her brother then, wrapping an arm over his shoulders and pressing a finger to his card. It was both intimidating and sweet. "Daniel, you can give him that one but I'm giving mine first. I'll tell you when you can give it to Danny but I get to go first."
It was only after Ray had paid for everything that he looked at the front of the card he'd chosen.
I love every inch of you.
Aw, crap.
Later that evening, after supervising the twins writing theirs, he uncapped a pen and scrawled inside his card.
But some more than others.
Ray x
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Ray knew he was getting older. It was a fact of life. But he had never reacted well coming face-to-face with evidence of that particular fact. Which was kind of weird considering his penchant for evidence...
It had started with his hairline, creeping back millimeter by millimeter in his late twenties. And then his face had become more defined, which had been great until he'd realised that meant it was less refined. A crease here, the beginnings of a wrinkle there. His job hadn't helped. Just as his body had collected scars, the stresses had left their marks elsewhere too.
On the island though, Ray'd had the chance to get fitter, had more time to spend on himself. He wasn't Fraser and he never would be. Muscle just didn't stick to him like it did the Mountie. But Ray had his own look, his own mojo, his special je ne sais quoi.
And now he was staring at a direct threat to it.
"My God, there's another one. Three, four, five!" He pawed at his ears, at the fine hair growing just above them. "Six, sev--I can't look anymore."
At least seven grey hairs taunting him in the mirror.
Silver fox. That was what people would call him now. No longer the Italian Stallion.
Life could be so unfair.
It had started with his hairline, creeping back millimeter by millimeter in his late twenties. And then his face had become more defined, which had been great until he'd realised that meant it was less refined. A crease here, the beginnings of a wrinkle there. His job hadn't helped. Just as his body had collected scars, the stresses had left their marks elsewhere too.
On the island though, Ray'd had the chance to get fitter, had more time to spend on himself. He wasn't Fraser and he never would be. Muscle just didn't stick to him like it did the Mountie. But Ray had his own look, his own mojo, his special je ne sais quoi.
And now he was staring at a direct threat to it.
"My God, there's another one. Three, four, five!" He pawed at his ears, at the fine hair growing just above them. "Six, sev--I can't look anymore."
At least seven grey hairs taunting him in the mirror.
Silver fox. That was what people would call him now. No longer the Italian Stallion.
Life could be so unfair.
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Even if Asher didn't realise it, Ray was just trying to help. As much as he disliked him smoking, Ray hated seeing him so stressed and unsettled all the time even more. So while he couldn't in good conscience encourage Asher to puff his merry way to cancer town, he was willing to try other options.
Even if one of those options involved him getting repeatedly hit in the head.
"Rules. Number one, nothing below the belt." Ray ducked under the ropes and into the ring. "Nothing unpleasant anyway. Rule number two, I'm walkin' outta here with all of my teeth still inside my mouth, okay? And number three," he bashed his boxing gloves against his skull, "no making fun of my head guard."
for Asher (dated 24th Dec 2013)
It was like waking up from a bad dream, right where they had begun, everyone standing in the backroom like all they had done was blinked. People scattered in their own directions and Ray was left holding Daniel's hand, defensive at every sound, suspicious beyond belief.
He muttered to Daniel to stay close but when he looked down, he saw watery eyes looking back up at him, tired and scared, like they had been for God only knew how long. So Ray carried him instead, out of the arcade and into the light of a setting sun. Just because it looked like home - as much as it could in the month of December - didn't mean it was home.
Instinct pointed them in the direction of the Compound. His bicep ached, bruised but the cut was healing, so he shifted Daniel over to this other side, reaching for the gun tucked at the back of his belt with his free hand. A gun he hoped to hell would work here if needed. He held it up in front of them as he moved, the exertion of a stance he knew so well evident on his face.
He muttered to Daniel to stay close but when he looked down, he saw watery eyes looking back up at him, tired and scared, like they had been for God only knew how long. So Ray carried him instead, out of the arcade and into the light of a setting sun. Just because it looked like home - as much as it could in the month of December - didn't mean it was home.
Instinct pointed them in the direction of the Compound. His bicep ached, bruised but the cut was healing, so he shifted Daniel over to this other side, reaching for the gun tucked at the back of his belt with his free hand. A gun he hoped to hell would work here if needed. He held it up in front of them as he moved, the exertion of a stance he knew so well evident on his face.
(no subject)
“Throw me the stick,” Ray shouted, pushing himself up slowly, grunting with the pain. “We’re playing.”
Sure enough, Daniel threw him the baton but Ray certainly wasn’t playing. He was too preoccupied with the ninja-like attacker to praise the boy properly. Clearly those basketball sessions were paying off.
***
“Let me see,” he prompted, leant back against a wall an hour later and attempting to tend to the cut on his own arm. He lifted his gaze briefly to see an obedient Daniel twist in a circle to show Ray that he still had his disc on his back. Ray wasn’t sure of their purpose exactly but the people they had watched, both from afar and at close quarters, went to great lengths to keep hold of theirs, so they were doing the same.
“Good.”
Daniel went back to playing with imaginary toys, puffing air through his teeth to make the appropriate noises. For what, Ray didn’t know – the boy’s gestures gave nothing away. He watched fondly for a long moment before he noticed the wolf staring at him and licking his chops. Begrudgingly, Ray’s attention turned back to his arm and he yanked the makeshift bandage tighter, wincing a little.
***
“Stay with the wolf, Daniel. Right here. If you need me, you shout for me, okay? D’you understand? Shout as loud as you can and I’ll come back.”
***
He felt a poke on his shoulder and suddenly mismatched eyes were looking at him intently.
“Can we go home now?”
It was the first time Daniel had asked that outright. Ray had been expecting to hear it every moment they had been gone but it was like Daniel had a sixth sense, he knew it wasn’t possible right away, he knew he had to be patient. It made sense that his patience was wearing thin now – Ray had lost his a while ago.
“Yeah… Soon.” He reached up and pushed some messy hair off his forehead, showing the kind of affection he couldn’t show towards Asher, even if he wanted to sometimes. Unlike his father, Daniel didn’t glare at him like he wished him dead on the spot. “Your dad and your ma are gonna be so happy when they see you.”
“And you too?”
Ray had to laugh quietly. “Yeah, I’m gonna be happy when I see you. I always am.”
***
Daniel couldn’t have looked more relieved to see Ray when he had finally come back. Ray was holding his arm to his side but when the boy ran over to him, he leaned down and wrapped the uninjured arm around him instead.
“I didn’t shout.”
“I know. We’re okay…”
***
“You were so good.” Ray’s voice broke a little when he said it and he swallowed hard, blinking quickly. “You were really, really good, Daniel.”
The boy definitely had a sixth sense, a sensitivity beyond his years. He reached out and wrapped short arms awkwardly around Ray’s neck, pressing his cheek against Ray’s shoulder and patting him on the back, mouth pressed into a thoughtful line.
Daniel might not have said it but Ray at least knew what this gesture meant.
They were okay.
Sure enough, Daniel threw him the baton but Ray certainly wasn’t playing. He was too preoccupied with the ninja-like attacker to praise the boy properly. Clearly those basketball sessions were paying off.
***
“Let me see,” he prompted, leant back against a wall an hour later and attempting to tend to the cut on his own arm. He lifted his gaze briefly to see an obedient Daniel twist in a circle to show Ray that he still had his disc on his back. Ray wasn’t sure of their purpose exactly but the people they had watched, both from afar and at close quarters, went to great lengths to keep hold of theirs, so they were doing the same.
“Good.”
Daniel went back to playing with imaginary toys, puffing air through his teeth to make the appropriate noises. For what, Ray didn’t know – the boy’s gestures gave nothing away. He watched fondly for a long moment before he noticed the wolf staring at him and licking his chops. Begrudgingly, Ray’s attention turned back to his arm and he yanked the makeshift bandage tighter, wincing a little.
***
“Stay with the wolf, Daniel. Right here. If you need me, you shout for me, okay? D’you understand? Shout as loud as you can and I’ll come back.”
***
He felt a poke on his shoulder and suddenly mismatched eyes were looking at him intently.
“Can we go home now?”
It was the first time Daniel had asked that outright. Ray had been expecting to hear it every moment they had been gone but it was like Daniel had a sixth sense, he knew it wasn’t possible right away, he knew he had to be patient. It made sense that his patience was wearing thin now – Ray had lost his a while ago.
“Yeah… Soon.” He reached up and pushed some messy hair off his forehead, showing the kind of affection he couldn’t show towards Asher, even if he wanted to sometimes. Unlike his father, Daniel didn’t glare at him like he wished him dead on the spot. “Your dad and your ma are gonna be so happy when they see you.”
“And you too?”
Ray had to laugh quietly. “Yeah, I’m gonna be happy when I see you. I always am.”
***
Daniel couldn’t have looked more relieved to see Ray when he had finally come back. Ray was holding his arm to his side but when the boy ran over to him, he leaned down and wrapped the uninjured arm around him instead.
“I didn’t shout.”
“I know. We’re okay…”
***
“You were so good.” Ray’s voice broke a little when he said it and he swallowed hard, blinking quickly. “You were really, really good, Daniel.”
The boy definitely had a sixth sense, a sensitivity beyond his years. He reached out and wrapped short arms awkwardly around Ray’s neck, pressing his cheek against Ray’s shoulder and patting him on the back, mouth pressed into a thoughtful line.
Daniel might not have said it but Ray at least knew what this gesture meant.
They were okay.
(no subject)
Ray had bitched and bitched and bitched in his head when that damned wolf had insisted on following them to the arcade. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Delirium had sent it because she didn’t trust him to take care of Daniel on his own.
With hindsight, perhaps she wasn’t totally wrong.
He wasn’t sure where letting himself and the boy get run through by a laser and ending up in an alien world ranked on the Worst Things To Do To Someone Else’s Kid list, but he was eternally grateful that the wolf was there with him to share the blame.
Having Daniel with him kept him calmer, meant he had to think beyond just himself. It wasn’t easy to keep to the darkness when everywhere they looked, intense neon lights shone back at them. But if Ray had learned anything over the past day, it was that they had to keep a low profile.
He wasn’t sure what the time was – no sun, no moon, no watch – but judging by the way Daniel was asleep on his shoulder, a deep troubled furrow between his eyes – Ray figured they had to have been here more than 24 hours, at least. Too long for a little boy to keep his eyes open.
Crouched, wolf just in front, Ray held his breath as the ominous sound grew louder. A giant machine hovered over the ground with two huge pylon legs and a crew of men more menacing than their plane. He tried to block out the memory from hours before, when he’d seen a man captured against his will and flown away, screaming in terror about some games.
“That’s not gonna be us, okay,” he whispered, once the machine had passed. Daniel wasn’t listening but Ray said it anyway, hoping it gave him some comfort. “I’m gonna figure out a way home.”
He just didn’t know how or when.
With hindsight, perhaps she wasn’t totally wrong.
He wasn’t sure where letting himself and the boy get run through by a laser and ending up in an alien world ranked on the Worst Things To Do To Someone Else’s Kid list, but he was eternally grateful that the wolf was there with him to share the blame.
Having Daniel with him kept him calmer, meant he had to think beyond just himself. It wasn’t easy to keep to the darkness when everywhere they looked, intense neon lights shone back at them. But if Ray had learned anything over the past day, it was that they had to keep a low profile.
He wasn’t sure what the time was – no sun, no moon, no watch – but judging by the way Daniel was asleep on his shoulder, a deep troubled furrow between his eyes – Ray figured they had to have been here more than 24 hours, at least. Too long for a little boy to keep his eyes open.
Crouched, wolf just in front, Ray held his breath as the ominous sound grew louder. A giant machine hovered over the ground with two huge pylon legs and a crew of men more menacing than their plane. He tried to block out the memory from hours before, when he’d seen a man captured against his will and flown away, screaming in terror about some games.
“That’s not gonna be us, okay,” he whispered, once the machine had passed. Daniel wasn’t listening but Ray said it anyway, hoping it gave him some comfort. “I’m gonna figure out a way home.”
He just didn’t know how or when.
Entry tags:
Nom nom nom (for Asher)
What was that saying?
Beggars couldn't be choosers.
India had never been at the top of Ray's list of vacation hotspots but it wasn't like there was a brochure full of options for where they could go that year. He'd heard on the grapevine that it wasn't exactly a luxurious place but after bumping back down to reality after the disappearance of the mist, anywhere that was away was a step up in Ray's book.
With hindsight, maybe two giant suitcases and a bag slung across his chest wasn't the best plan. Especially not when he'd partnered himself with the least helpful or willing man on the planet. Never one to travel light though, there were very noticeable drag marks left in his wake as he ploughed ahead over the causeway and onto the second island.
"Thanks again, by the way," Ray drawled sarcastically for the third or fourth time. "For all of your help. Really."
Had Ray not spent so much time packing and repacking, maybe they would have reached their destination before nightfall.
For Asher [dated 4th August 2013]
The facts were these:
Fraser wasn’t currently in need of the uniform.
It was Asher’s birthday.
Ray wanted brownie points. And sex.
The solution had been simple really. Ray tried not to think of it as taking advantage of his best friend’s situation. In fact, he could even argue that it was Fraser who had suggested the idea in the first place. When Ray had come across mini-Benny, he’d never intended tosteal borrow his Mountie uniform but after their encounter, Ray just couldn’t shake the memory of those immortal words:
”I look like a Mountie to you?”
Well, now it seemed like Ray did. Taking one final glance in the mirror before leaving, he adjusted the Stetson, so that it sat straight, and smoothed down the lanyard. It wasn’t the first time he’d worn the outfit but he still wasn’t exactly comfortable in it. If all went well though, he wouldn’t have to stay in it very long.
Asher was a pretty simple guy, really. Not in the slow-minded way but in the easy-to-please way. Sometimes Ray forgot that. He could definitely have been accused of trying too hard in the past. Unless he was pissed off or disappointed, Asher didn’t really show any feelings, so Ray often found himself over-compensating just to get a reaction from him. Usually, it ended up being the wrong one…
Today, though, Ray was all about simplicity and – forgive the sap – making Asher happy. If he couldn’t do it on his birthday, when could he?
So there Ray was outside, dressed head-to-toe in Canada, with a bucket of ice on the kitchen counter, drinks cooling inside it. There was a chocolate cupcake baked by his own fair hand, unlit candle sticking out the top, and a Zippo resting beside it.
No fuss. No drama. Definitely no old man jokes. What more could Asher want?
Fraser wasn’t currently in need of the uniform.
It was Asher’s birthday.
Ray wanted brownie points. And sex.
The solution had been simple really. Ray tried not to think of it as taking advantage of his best friend’s situation. In fact, he could even argue that it was Fraser who had suggested the idea in the first place. When Ray had come across mini-Benny, he’d never intended to
”I look like a Mountie to you?”
Well, now it seemed like Ray did. Taking one final glance in the mirror before leaving, he adjusted the Stetson, so that it sat straight, and smoothed down the lanyard. It wasn’t the first time he’d worn the outfit but he still wasn’t exactly comfortable in it. If all went well though, he wouldn’t have to stay in it very long.
Asher was a pretty simple guy, really. Not in the slow-minded way but in the easy-to-please way. Sometimes Ray forgot that. He could definitely have been accused of trying too hard in the past. Unless he was pissed off or disappointed, Asher didn’t really show any feelings, so Ray often found himself over-compensating just to get a reaction from him. Usually, it ended up being the wrong one…
Today, though, Ray was all about simplicity and – forgive the sap – making Asher happy. If he couldn’t do it on his birthday, when could he?
So there Ray was outside, dressed head-to-toe in Canada, with a bucket of ice on the kitchen counter, drinks cooling inside it. There was a chocolate cupcake baked by his own fair hand, unlit candle sticking out the top, and a Zippo resting beside it.
No fuss. No drama. Definitely no old man jokes. What more could Asher want?
(no subject)
No matter how much Ray wanted it to, the pillow he held over his face didn't put him out of his misery. It was still damp from his drool, a sticky reminder of the state he was in when he'd finally climbed into bed the night before. Ray wasn't a big drinker and he hadn't set out to get drunk but when he had seen Del, he'd had one, then another, to steel himself before approaching. Somewhere along the line though, two had become seven and the rest was history.
As if his pounding head wasn't bad enough, Ray had to suffer with the clearest memory of his behavior at the party. Wasn't getting drunk off his ass supposed to come with the promise of blissful ignorance the next morning?
"Kill me now," he groaned, squashing the pillow against his face one last time before chucking it out of the bed in frustration. No amount of pain relief was going to let him open his eyes without weeping in agony.
[for Asher 30.03.2013]
When the Mountie had said he was going, Ray found it even harder to find an excuse not to, which was stupid because all he really wanted to do was go. Not for the chocolate or the Easter eggs or the promise of enough sweet food for him to eat his feelings for a month, but simply because he knew Asher would be there. They'd had arguments before that lasted an hour, a day, maybe even a couple days but none of those had involved his kids. More than a few had revolved around Danica before they'd eventually gotten together but his children were different.
It was the first time Ray was genuinely worried that he'd blown it, which was why he was so reluctant to attend. Had he indulged his selfishness and insensitivity during an argument about absolutely anything else, he didn't think he'd be skulking around the edges of a slowly scattering gathering right now. He and Asher would've hashed it out, maybe lashed out, and moved on. Together. But those kind of qualities coming through when it was never about Ray in the first place? That was so much worse. It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to realize he'd made it all about him instead of concentrating on a little boy and a concerned father who had needed his help. Asher had been - still was, for all he knew - between a rock and a hard place, between his sister and his son, and Ray had turned his back and walked away.
Which was exactly the kind of reaction he was expecting to receive when he looked over through a hooded gaze, waiting for Asher to be alone. He'd already apologised for laughing, thinking that was all he was guilty of. Nervousness, he'd said. The absurdity of the situation. But laughing had just been the tip of the iceberg and it had taken many long, lonely nights in a too-big and too-empty bed for him to see it.
Dropping the piece of straw he'd been fiddling with - Asher hated insecurity - he squared his shoulders just a little and moved over.
"D'you have a minute?"
Entry tags:
for Asher
The clothes he had dragged on didn't fit right. The shirt pulled over his shoulders, trousers were a little tight around the waist, but they were quality, slick and sharp, so he figured they had to be his.
The room was a mess. Mattress tossed off the bed base, drawers hanging open, side tables upturned. He was searching, frantically. He didn't know what he was looking for; clues, he guessed. When he'd woken up in a strange bed, in a strange wooden house, his first thought was that he'd been drugged. He always went on hunches, so he had run with the idea. Now he had a thousand and one questions and no answers, so he had to fill the blanks in himself. Just until the drugs wore off. Just until his brain kicked into gear.
A utility bill, an address book, something that would jog his memory, give him a name, at least. It felt like panic was his automatic go-to, so he was letting nature take its course, right until the frustration overwhelmed him and he held his head, trying to breath deeply.
There was a scratching at the door. A whine.
He tried to ignore it.
The clothes were definitely his. There were nothing but male clothes in the room, after all. A coupla nice watches. He had slipped one on to complete the look. The chain around his neck felt weird, as did the ring on his finger. Was this his place?
Scanning the room, he huffed out a heavy sigh, bending down to scoop up a suit jacket that had got caught in the cross-fire. He felt the material between his fingers. When he slipped it on, tried to make it comfortable across his too-broad shoulders, it felt familiar all of a sudden. It was a feeling he tried to hold onto. All of this had to be his, right?
Slipping unsteady hands into his pockets, he leaned against the nearest wall, tipping his head back and letting his eyes slide shut.
He cracked one open, just slightly. His hand slowly reappeared, a scrap of paper caught between thumb and forefinger. He brought it up to his face, studying it carefully. American Thread. Dry cleaners. A date stamp. A pick-up time. A name.
A Talos.
He got the same wash of feeling he'd gotten from the jacket. Familiarity. Something he was craving right now. This was him. A Talos.
The whining outside the door got louder, a faint annoyed growl ending each one. His mouth flattened into a line. There wasn't much he was sure of, but he did know A Talos wasn't a fan of stray dogs.
Entry tags:
Hangover Plot (for Fraser)
The gentle sway was almost enough to tempt Ray into a deeper sleep but the incessant sting against his face put the kibosh on that. The salty spray from the water forced him onto his side, where his cheek met with prickly fluff. It wasn't his first time experiencing such a thing, so he did what he usually did and shoved at the source of the irritation, grumbling about a stupid dog.
When no bark of retaliation was forthcoming, he creaked open an eye and wondered where they had gotten a multicolored hound from. Memory the wrong side of hazy, Ray hoisted himself up onto an elbow and shaded his eyes with a hand, cogs in his brain slow to start grinding. The sun was low in the sky, so it must have been morning. Congratulating himself on solving that puzzle, his gaze travelled the short distance to the horizon and then lower. To the ocean. And then lower. To the shawn off ends of logs. And then lower. To red knee high boots and yellow spandex currently adorning his bottom half.
Ray's reaction was so violent that it got stuck in his throat as he shot up, coming out as little more than a strangled shout. The raft rocked dangerously with such sudden movement and he clung tightly to whatever he could find.
When no bark of retaliation was forthcoming, he creaked open an eye and wondered where they had gotten a multicolored hound from. Memory the wrong side of hazy, Ray hoisted himself up onto an elbow and shaded his eyes with a hand, cogs in his brain slow to start grinding. The sun was low in the sky, so it must have been morning. Congratulating himself on solving that puzzle, his gaze travelled the short distance to the horizon and then lower. To the ocean. And then lower. To the shawn off ends of logs. And then lower. To red knee high boots and yellow spandex currently adorning his bottom half.
Ray's reaction was so violent that it got stuck in his throat as he shot up, coming out as little more than a strangled shout. The raft rocked dangerously with such sudden movement and he clung tightly to whatever he could find.
Entry tags:
for Jack
The monkey was mocking him.
Ray could tell by the way its teeth chattered as if laughing. By the patronizing way it tilted its head. But the so not cute way it mimicked every one of Ray's stances.
The first rule of martial arts - he didn't actually know if it was officially the first rule but it was a rule anyway - was to stay calm and centered. The monkey, however, did nothing but annoy and fluster him, and when something did that, Ray lost all concentration and brought out his own secret weapon.
The Cop Finger.
He pointed it like he'd never pointed before.
"I will karate chop your head off if you don't get outta here," he demanded, kicking his foot sharply, despite the distance between him and the pest. His palms sliced through the air a few times and he sucked in a breath, planting his feet on the grass evenly beneath him. "Don't question Phoenix Arm!"
Entry tags:
for Asher [power plot]
Sometimes, just sometimes, there were mornings when waking up to the sound of the ocean seemed almost normal. Today was one of those days and Ray found his frownline softening and his mouth curving up before he'd even opened his eyes. He knew Asher was there without needing to look and so he let himself lay quietly for a little while longer, still being lulled by the pull of sleep.
It was only natural that his mind would wonder back to the night before. He could still feel the satiation deep in his bones and it didn't exactly make him eager to get up. A mixture of charm and bribery might get Asher to agree to round two and Ray was pretty sure Fraser could handle the morning patrol on his own. Walking around in a circle for two hours was hardly demanding.
Resisting sleep seemed a bit stupid if only one of them was awake, so he rolled over and pushed himself toward Asher. If he woke up too, then the decision was made for him and Ray could start to switch on the charm. If he continued to sleep, then Ray would have no qualms about rejoining him.
Waking up next to Asher didn't quite feel normal yet, but it still managed to put a smile on his face just the same.
It was only natural that his mind would wonder back to the night before. He could still feel the satiation deep in his bones and it didn't exactly make him eager to get up. A mixture of charm and bribery might get Asher to agree to round two and Ray was pretty sure Fraser could handle the morning patrol on his own. Walking around in a circle for two hours was hardly demanding.
Resisting sleep seemed a bit stupid if only one of them was awake, so he rolled over and pushed himself toward Asher. If he woke up too, then the decision was made for him and Ray could start to switch on the charm. If he continued to sleep, then Ray would have no qualms about rejoining him.
Waking up next to Asher didn't quite feel normal yet, but it still managed to put a smile on his face just the same.
For Snape
It was a little chillier down here than Ray had thought. He glanced the length of his body, checking one last time to make sure everything looked as it should and then leaned back on his elbows, gaze travelling to the basement door and fixing there.
He tried a sultry look but as soon as he imagined Asher standing there – and laughing - he became too self-conscious and covered himself with his hands, frowning. It took him another minute or two to pluck up the courage to aim a come hither expression at the door. Maybe if he rolled half onto his side and cocked a leg just so…
Nah, that just made him look like he needed the john.
Propping his head up on his hand, he sprawled seductively on the mattress and caressed the empty space beside him.
Chirp chirp.
“Shut up.”
Even the chick was judging him.
Things were going surprisingly well with Asher, so Ray had taken it upon himself to sneak down into the basement dorm and await his return. Naked. It might have made him look easy, but there was a time and a place for playing hard to get and he wasn’t feeling it right then. The entire plan was flawless.
Asher came in.
Asher saw Ray.
Asher joined Ray.
Ray had his wicked way.
Psyched up, the thought made him smile and that was what he directed at the door. “Time to unleash the Italian Stallion.”
Entry tags:
dated to mid-June, just after truth plot
"I came to ask for advice," Ray repeated, glaring at Danica who was currently lounging on the other side of the bed. "Not insults. And considering you were pretty much the root cause of our last argument" - sort of - "I think you owe me that much."
The laughter filtered through the cushion Danica had been trying to smother herself with just moments before.
"Can you hear yourself right now? Take the fucking hint, cop. It sounds to me like he's telling you to fuck off and you're just not getting the message." She mused for a moment. "I knew my brother had a head on him." Even if it took him a while to use it. This was exactly the reason why she thought that she was actually the brains in their family. Nobody would find her suffering such a dysfunctional relationship. She definitely didn't get enough credit for it.
Ray shook his head and scoffed almost bitterly. "I should have arrested you when I had the chance." Maybe a few weeks in the island jail would have made her a little more respectful.
"Stop, stop," Danica squealed, faking a look of shock horror. Her tone turned deadpan. "You're making my sides split. You can't touch me--"
"I can," Ray interrupted her, the rebuttal immediate and forthright.
"--and even if you could, you wouldn't. Face it. I can do anything and get away with it. And allll because you have a thing for my brother," she finished tauntingly.
Deep inside Ray was infinitely grateful that the truth curse had lifted. "Not true. I wouldn't compromise myself like that."
"You've done it once."
"There wasn't enough evidence."
"Oh, please." Danica tossed the cushion on the bed and twisted to face him. "Is it love?" She managed to make the word sound so sickening. "Is that the reason?"
Ray looked away, gaze fixed on the curtain separating them from the rest of the dorms. "That's none of your business."
The click was unmissable. Ray's ears pricked straight away, his head whipping back around to look at her.
"Is it my business now?" The barrel of the gun leveled at him.
Ray's eyes flicked back to the curtain for the briefest of seconds, mentally calculating how many people were potentially on the other side. They were back on Danica again as if they had never left her. "What are you doing?"
"Consider this a test," Danica replied calmly, nodding her head at his arm. She could see it moving already. "Get it if you want. That'll just make things more interesting."
Ray wasn't stupid enough not to take the opportunity when it came. He had his gun cocked, ready and aimed at a smile that showed maximum fang.
"What to do, what to do..." Danica moved her head as if tossing up the options. She didn't have that many in reality. She may have found where Asher had hidden a gun but the jackass had also emptied it. No bullets, no fun. So she had to find it someplace.
"Put the gun down."
"Answer the question."
Ray growled in frustration. "I'm not kidding. Put it down. Right now you're not Asher's sister, you're just some lunatic with a gun in a room full of sleeping people."
"Correction," she snapped, "I'm a lunatic with a loaded gun in a room full of fucking morons. And you're the only one that can save them. So go on, be a hero."
Ray swallowed and readjusted his grip on his weapon. "Put the gun down and I'll answer."
"Answer and I may give a fuck about the first part."
"Fine, fine." Something inside Ray snapped. "Yes, I love him, okay? " He hissed, baring his teeth. "Yes."
When Danica saw the shocked look on his face, her hum was filled with pity. It was obvious it wasn't just her hearing it for the first time.
"I should shoot you now and put you out of your misery," she told him, disappointed when his arm gradually fell to his lap, gun along with it. "Ugh." Climbing off the bed, she picked up a pair of shoes and parted the curtains before looking back. "You can consider this payback. The next time the island fucks with our ability to lie, stay the hell away from me."