OK this was a response on the DIEF list to a challenge set by Javelin....for
2 DS characters...(well at a time)
a feather duster
500 words (hmm I think over but math is not a strong point ;)
Rating PG (for innuendo)
Dedicated to someone who little realises her influence (vbg) and a very kind penpal.
"Yo bro! You home?" Silence.
"Good!" Frannie rubbed her hands with glee and flew upstairs.
"You barged?" Ray Vecchio, recuperating hero of the Siege of the Golden Bowl contemplated his sibling in a manner which harboured the deepest darkest suspicion. Fully justified as it happened.
Frannie's eyes slid guiltily to one side, trying to empty her head of all thoughts of "borrowing" the Riv's spare keys and indeed the Riv itself. So how was she to know Ray would stay home, she'd been sure he go for the offer of free tickets to the Bull's game.
However, larger than life and at least twice as irritable or possibly irritating, her brother sat on his bed surrounded by what looked like a small explosion in a chicken farm. "A Scouts Guide to Inuit Culture" lay nesting amidst the feathers.
"I...er....so how ya doin'? What on earth is *that*?" Curiousity getting the better of her Francesca advanced to her brother's side.
"Nuthin'" Hampered by bandages Ray was unable to hide his project effectually, or indeed at all.
Frannie bent over him and picked up a short stick. A lone yellow feather stuck pathetically to the tip.
"Ray! That's ma's new duster!"
"Well I'll get her another one." Ma's best boy mumbled turning and twisting the befeathered object in his hands as best he could manage in his condition.
Hands on hips, Frannie exaulted, she loved sending her brother on guilt trips, he was sure to spill the...hmm the potatoes, hotpot...aw what the heck.
"So..?" she gloated.
Ray sighed, a deep heavy sibling-wracked sigh.
"It's a dreamcatcher. You know, for....for dreams. To catch good dreams."
"Humph" Frannie sniffed, educationally slighted once more. "I do know what a dreamcatcher is."
"Of course I do. Benton gave Ray Kowalski one for your birthday."
"Ben.." squeaked Ray; this vocal abberation quickly turned into a cough.
"Oh yes. It was a very special one. He got special feathers for it. Very difficult to get apparently." She added airily, her gaze dropping to the sorry effort dangling from Ray's fingers. Ray followed her gaze. He had a pretty good idea of how good Benny's dreamcatcher would be.
Ray's dreamcatcher turned out to have great frisbee-like properties as he hurled it weakly across the room and sank back into his bed.
"Ray!" protested Francesca hurrying to retrieve it.
Her brother lay with his arm over his eyes.
"I'm tired Frannie, can you just leave me alone for once?" He sounded tired, he sounded defeated and Frannie's heart wrenched at the sight.
"Sure." she said quietly tiptoeing from the room.
"Ma it's so wet out there!" wailed a thoroughly drenched Francesca Vecchio, shopping hound supreme, shaking herself with Dief-like abandon. Like she wanted to spend her afternoon dodging lightening strikes. No wonder the game had been called off. Sheesh, taken for granted, a slave to her family's whims, Frannie the martyr raised her wet yet noble, if oddly shaped, head to the sound of...
"No!" wailed Raymond Vecchio, amateur chef, gathering his latest creation to his bosom.
"No!" he wailed again as this action made clumsy by his injuries knocked an open tin of golden syrup over. The sweet sticky fluid flowed steadily onto the newly cleaned, gleaming floor tiles.
"Ray?!" squealed his sister peering through soaking mascara-laden lashes at her brother clad in flour, some more flour, a little more flour and...his mother's fanciest apron.
"Ack! Ma's gonna kill ya!"
"If you *must* know, an' I dunno why I'm tellin' you this...I'm...um....makin' a cake. OK? Like it's allowed, like..." Ray swallowed. "Like it's even fashionable, like cool, like....uh.." Ray took a deep calming breath. "It's for Benny's birthday, right? An it's supposed to be good therapy anyway. So now you know - satisfied?"
Frannie put her hand to her lips and giggled. Ray was adorable when he was all pink and confused. What Fraser would give for the sight of her brother all duded up in a rose hued, rose themed girly apron. Hmm now that was an idea - what would Fraser give for that particular view?
"Oh I gotta get my camera" she breathed twirling daintily then darting quick smart out of the kitchen.
"Oh no!" groaned Ray and lurched after her. All of a sudden things went into slow motion as his feet made contact with the sticky mess of syrup and gracefully he dived , full length, down and out.
"Ray Ray Ray Ray RAY!"
Someone was calling his name, someone he liked, liked a lot. Mmm but he was so comfortable here, cozy, warm and safe, he didn't want to answer. Maybe later. He snuggled down, burrowed down. Maybe a lot later. Yeah that would be good.
Mmm but who was it? The question niggled at him, an itch he had to scratch. Oh dear. Suddenly he knew. He knew exactly who it was.
"Benny!?" he moaned.
Ray panicked and grabbed for his apron, no way could he let the Mountie see his, his "costume". Unfortunately however the material his fingers reached for seemed a whole lot thinner and for sure that was the wrong place to grab wasn't it Vecchio? He bent forward writhing in sudden agony.
Fraser stood by his bedside looking worried, puzzled and frankly clueless. He could see no valid no reason for Ray to torture his testicles. Still maybe it was a...nope maybe not. A slow burning ruby glow flowed into his cheek and he sought wildly for something to help his friend.
"Ah." How handy and how very suitable. He picked up the cup.
"Arrrgh! Fraser what the *hell* d'ya do that for?" Ray frantically brushed the icechips from his rapidly cooling groin.
"Well you seemed to be in pain Ray." explained the Mountie patiently.
Sore, cold and exasperated Ray rose from the hospital bed. He'd seen enough hospital beds for one lifetime and just about now, enough Mounties too. He surveyed the damp stain on his gown and narrowed his eyes.
"Now Ray..." pleaded nay babbled Benny "I didn't mean. I mean I didn't..."
"Ray? Ray where are you going? You can't leave, the doctors haven't seen you yet. You might have concussion. Ray!"
Ignoring Fraser's cry as deftly and deafly as Fraser's half-wolf Ray stalked purposefully out of his room and down the long corridor, his skimpy gown flapping at his back.
"Oh dear. I'd better... Oh dear." Fraser sighed deeply and contemplated Ray's very revealing rear view. A slight smile crossed his lips.
A full two minutes later Fraser grabbed Ray's grown and held it firmly closed as he followed Ray, real close. Down the corridor they strode, hand to butt, Ray muttering darkly under his breath. "The first thing I see, the *very* first thing dammit!"
Ye Fanny Nightingale Hospital Gifte Shoppe boasted a wide selection of suitable gifts for the ailing nearest and dearest and Ray homed in like a bee to honey, like a cop to a donut. He reached out, grabbed the first item his hands touched and wheeled round to the counter, dragging the Mountie in his wake.
"He's payin'" Ray jerked his hand vaguely in the Mountie's direction. He could feel Fraser's knuckles on his back tightly holding his gown together, very tightly.
"I am?" Fraser was mildly surprised.
"Yeah." Ray pouted. Pouted some more at the assistant and turned round twisting Fraser's hand from his skimpy hospital robe.
"You got me into this mess in the first place." Ray emphasised his displeasure by stabbing a long finger into Fraser's face which made the Mountie go cross-eyed.
"I did?" Was the concussion starting to kick in?
"Oh yeah." Ray folded his arms and glared.
Fraser removed his stetson and meekly withdrew a couple of bills. He slid round his partner and proferred them to the bemused assistant.
"Ma'am, I believe this should cover...?"
"Thank you kindly." said the assistant, a former Canadian lumberjack now working her way through veterinarian school, who had come to Chicago on the trail of the killers of Feather, her pet parrot, a Norwegian Blue... (but I digress ahem).
"Ah" echoed Fraser and Ray.
"Is there an echo in here?" grinned Ray, mercurial as ever. Fraser grinned back happily and offered the bag to Ray.
"Oh no, it's not for me. Uh, it's for you."
Fraser considered the contents with a puzzled frown.
"You think I need this?"
"Hmm what is it? Oh. Well..." Ray nodded his head thoughtfully.
"You sure do Benny."
"In fact I think we could go halves eh?"
"Happy birthday Benny."
Ray tore open the bag and scooped a handful.
Little plastic packing "peanuts" fell gracefully from the air brushing the Mountie's uniform gently as they fell.
"Americans!" sighed the assistant, the Canadian way.
I may add I have not the foggiest idea of the timing or indeed location of Bull's games.
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