Okay, so I never expected to come up with a 2^nd story so quickly after my first, but here it is. Fraser, Ray, Francesca, Dief and Lt. Welsh all belong to Alliance (but I'm still wishing). Enjoy.

All comments welcomed, BiermannR@home.com

Ray's Heavy Hitters

By Ruthie Biermann

The doors opened to the squad room and Diefenbaker bounded in followed by Fraser and a tired looking Kowalski.

"I said can it, Fraser. I don't need to hear how your Grandmother gutted oxen on the tundra."

"That's musk ox, Ray."

"Yer a freak, Fraser."

"Understood."

At that moment, Francesca approached the partners, her eyes trained lovingly on Fraser.

"Hey Frase," she purred, inching her way closer to the Mountie.

Fraser's face slowly approached the color of his red serge tunic. "Francesca."

"Where's your manners, Frannie. In case you didn't notice, I'm standing right next to Fraser."

"Hey loser," Francesca sniped at Ray. She returned her gaze to Fraser.

"Oh great!" Ray said exasperated. "That's just great, Frannie. First I have to listen to Fraser telling me about gutting oxen and then I have to...."

"That's musk ox, Ray."

"Yeah, whatever." Ray turned to Francesca. His eyes were drawn to the hem of her skirt, which was well above her knees. "Hey Frannie, are you wearing your niece's clothes again?"

"Very funny, Ray. She surveyed Ray slowly. "And what's with that outfit you're wearing? Did you get dressed in the closet again?"

"Cute, Frannie."

Francesca continued, "You know, Ray, you wouldn't know good style if it bit you in the......"

"WATCH IT, FRANNIE!"

Francesca turned back to Fraser, who nervously avoided her gaze. "Um, Fraser, can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Oysters?"

"No, thank you very much, Francesca." He loosened his collar.

"Okay, maybe later then. Bye, Frase."

"Francesca."

Francesca turned and sauntered towards the break room, Dief happily trailing after her, his tail wagging fiercely.

Both men watched as they disappeared around the corner.

"Dief has a thing for Frannie?" Ray asked.

"Well, Ray, Diefenbaker has always appreciated female pulchritude."

"Jeez, Frase. I never thought I'd hear you talk dirty about Frannie."

"Pulchritude, Ray. Beauty, loveliness."

"Oh, you mean she's a dish."

"I hardly think Francesca resembles stoneware, Ray."

"A DISH, Fraser, a good lookin' woman." Ray thought for a moment. "You think Frannie's got pulk...puke..., you think she's attractive?"

"Well, yes Ray, don't you?"

"I suppose in a Frankenstein meets Dracula sorta way."

"I beg your pardon, Ray?"

"Never mind, Fraser."

They both continued to Ray's desk, Ray dropping into his chair, Fraser taking his usual seat in front of Ray's desk. Ray picked up some mail, leaned back in his chair and sifted through the envelopes, not really looking at them. "So, are you ready for tomorrow, Frase?"

"Yes, Ray, I'm prepared to take on the challenge."

"Well, Fraser, coaching a kids' softball team ain't quite the same as coaching a curling team. I mean, you actually haveta physically exert yourself."

"I'm well aware of the physical exertion required to play the game of softball, Ray. However, you are obviously ignorant of the challenges of the sport of curling."

"I told you before, Fraser, curling is not a sport."

"It most certainly is, Ray."

"Okay, Fraser, I'm not gonna argue with you today. It's Friday. I'm feelin' good. And I know we're gonna win that game tomorrow."

"Well, that's a very good attitude, Ray."

"Thank you, Fraser."

"Think nothing of it, Ray."

Ever since the case in Wilson, where Fraser and Ray had helped Lieutenant Welsh's brother, Ray had found that he really enjoyed baseball. So when he was approached by a police dispatcher and asked if he would accept the responsibility of coaching an inner city softball team, he readily accepted. He loved kids and found that being with them softened the ache he still felt at not having children with Stella. Ray had been coaching the team, the Heavy Hitters, for the past 6 weeks, and tomorrow was one of the biggest games of the season. If they won this game, the team would qualify for the playoffs. Unfortunately, his assistant coach was unable to stay on due to career obligations. Fraser had expressed an interest in taking on the position, an image that Ray found quite humorous, but he frankly needed the help. Not to mention the fact that Fraser seemed to know a lot about everything, and that included the game of softball. With Fraser there tomorrow, Ray had a good feeling that the team would come out on top.

His thoughts of victory were suddenly interrupted. "VECCHIO, in my office now!" Lieutenant Welsh bellowed from his office doorway. Ray almost fell over backwards in his chair. "Right away, sir." He got up and approached Welsh's office tossing Fraser an uneasy glance over his shoulder. At that moment, Welsh looked over to Fraser. "You too, Red."

"Right away, Leftenant."

Fraser followed Ray into Welsh's office and closed the door behind them. Welsh sat down behind his desk and leaned back eyeing the two men who stood side by side. "I have a case, needs to be resolved yesterday. Involves some creep selling meth amphetamines to elementary school kids."

"Oh Jesus, " Ray replied. He hated cases involving kids. Always got to him.

Lieutenant Welsh continued. "Apparently, this scumbag showed up outta nowhere about two weeks ago. Sells mostly on the south side."

"No surprise there," Kowalski interjected.

"Problem is, no one wants to cooperate. The principal says none of the kids'll tell him anything."

"They're probably scared," Ray surmised.

"How does the principal know this is occurring?" Fraser asked.

"Unfortunately, one of the kids O.D.'d two nights ago. He's gonna be okay, but the school district wants this taken care of before it gets outta hand."

"Well, sir, excuse me for asking, but it was my impression that drug trafficking was, unfortunately, quite rampant in the American school system," Fraser said.

"Well, Constable, we usually don't find it in an elementary school."

"Ah, yes, Sir. Understood."

"It's Washington Elementary School. The principal's name is John Simmons. He's expecting you."

Kowalski and Fraser turned to leave.

"Oh, and gentlemen...."

Ray and Fraser looked back to Welsh, "yes sir."

"I expect you to check in periodically with status reports. I'm being leaned on big time by the higher ups on this case and they don't like being left in the dark."

"Yes sir."

Fraser and Ray left Welsh's office and walked towards the squad room door.

"I hate this Fraser. I really hate this."

"What, Ray?"

"When these lowlife creeps go after little kids. It really turns my crank."

"Well, yes Ray. They would have to be particularly unseemly characters to target innocent children like that. Shall I retrieve Diefenbaker?"

"Nah, dogs aren't allowed in school. Let him enjoy Frannie for now." Ray paused. "Although I still don't get it."

They went out to the parking lot and into the GTO. Ray started the car, gunned the engine and they sped off.

Traffic was extremely heavy, which annoyed the usually impatient Ray. "Come on, come on, move it!" he yelled to no one in particular. He turned to Fraser. "Hey Frase, if we win tomorrow, do ya think you'll stay on as coach for the playoffs?"

"Why yes, Ray. I'd be honored."

"That's great, Frase. That's just greatness."

"I take it you're quite excited at the prospect of your team taking home a trophy."

"Yeah, Frase. I can just imagine holding my trophy up for everyone to gawk at."

"You mean, your team's trophy."

"That's what I said, Fraser."

"Ah, yes. So you did."

Kowalski and Fraser finally reached Washington Elementary School. Ray parked in the teacher's parking lot and they both entered the building through the front door. The school office was directly across from the entrance, so they had no problem finding it. They approached a heavy set woman standing behind the counter.

"May I help you?" she asked eyeing Ray suspiciously.

"Detective Raymond Vecchio and Constable Benton Fraser to see Principal Simmons."

"Oh yes, he's expecting you. Please go right in." The woman gestured towards the office to her right.

"Thank you kindly," Fraser responded. She flashed him a toothy smile.

Once seated in the principal's office, the three men discussed the current drug situation lurking at the school.

"Frankly, I'm at a loss," the principal said, "the children just aren't talking. We held an assembly yesterday, and I assured them that if anyone came forward, their identity would remain anonymous. But no one has said anything."

"Do you have any idea where the drug buys are taking place?" Ray asked.

"Well, I'm confident it's not on school grounds. We always have teachers monitoring recess periods. And the children are not allowed to leave the building during lunchtime. I assume it's occurring a block or two away."

"Who's the kid who overdosed?" Ray asked.

"His name is Tommy Pierson, ten years old. He's still in the hospital, but his parents called me this morning and said he's being released tomorrow."

"Do you know if Tommy's parents will allow us to speak to him?" Fraser asked.

"Well, I discussed that with them when they called, and they were a bit uneasy about it. But I told them that Tommy is our only lead to this drug dealer, so they've consented. Tommy's at Cook County Hospital."

"Thank you, Principal Simmons. If anything else happens, or you get any other information, please call me at this number." Ray handed the principal a card with his cell phone number on it.

"Just please get this man before another child is hurt." he replied.

"We shall do everything in our power to apprehend the perpetrator," said Fraser.

"Thank you. Goodbye, gentlemen."

Fraser and Ray left Principal Simmons office and walked through the outer office towards the school's entrance. They noticed the woman who had helped them earlier standing to their left, watching them leave.

"Perhaps you should thank her." Fraser said.

"Perhaps you should shut up." Ray replied. "Besides, you're the one she's making goo goo eyes at"

"Goo goo eyes, Ray?"

"Yeah, you know. She's hot for yer body."

"I hardly think that simply because she smiled at me earlier, that she has the desire to become intimate....."

"Just can it, Fraser."

"As you wish."

Fraser and Ray arrived at Cook County Hospital about half an hour later. When they entered Tommy's room, they saw a man and a woman by his bed, the woman seated holding Tommy's hand and the man leaning against the window sill. Tommy was sitting up in bed. He looked younger than ten, with brown hair and large brown eyes. They all looked towards Ray and Fraser as they entered the room.

"I'm Detective Raymond Vecchio of the Chicago PD and this is Constable Benton Fraser."

The man at the window walked towards Ray and held out his hand.

"Yes hello. Principal Simmons said someone from the police department would be coming. I'm Richard Pierson. This is my wife, Christine. And that's our son, Tommy." Ray and Fraser shook Mr. Pierson's hand and nodded towards Mrs. Pierson and Tommy.

"Mr. & Mrs. Pierson, would you mind if we asked Tommy some questions?" Ray asked.

Mrs. Pierson shot a concerned look to her husband, who gave her a slight nod.

"Very well," she said to Ray. Then she turned to her son. "Tommy, these nice men from the police department are going to ask you some questions about the man you were talking to after school the other day."

Tommy looked up at his Mother, "Do I have to?"

His father answered, "Yes, Tommy. They're here to help you. I want you to tell them everything."

"Oh, alright," Tommy replied.

With that, Christine squeezed her son's hand and stepped away from the bed and went to stand with her husband. Ray and Fraser approached Tommy, both of them on the same side of the bed opposite Tommy's parents.

"Tommy," Ray asked softly, "can you tell me about that man your mom just mentioned?"

Tommy looked up at Ray and Fraser. Both men smiled at him, which brought a tentative smile to the boy's face. "Well, I was walking home from school, and this man who was standing by the street called me over."

Ray urged him on. "What did he say to you, Tommy?"

"He asked me if I wanted to have some candy. He said it would make me feel real good. He said it was free."

"What did he look like?"

"Well, he wasn't that old. He looked around my brother's age."

Ray looked over towards Christine questioningly. She responded, "he's 17."

Ray turned his attention back to Tommy. "Go on, Tommy."

"Um, he had black hair and he looked funny."

Ray and Fraser looked at each other. "What do you mean he looked funny?" Ray asked.

"Well, he looked at me funny."

Ray wasn't sure what Tommy meant, but he decided to let it go. "Was anyone else with him?"

"I don't think so."

"Did you notice what he was wearing?"

"Yeah, sorta. He had on jeans and a denim jacket and sneakers."

"Did you notice any markings on the jacket?"

"Uh uh," Tommy replied.

"Okay, did he say anything else?"

"He just told me to tell my friends."

"And did you?" Fraser asked.

"Nah, I got too sick."

At that point Mrs. Pierson interjected, "He became ill and we didn't know what was wrong. It was only after we brought him to the hospital that we learned he had overdosed on that drug."

Ray looked to Tommy again, "why didn't you tell your parents, Tommy?"

Tommy looked over to his parents, then back to Ray, and then down to his hands resting on his lap. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," he said dejectedly.

"Is there anything else you can tell us about him? Was he carrying anything? Did you see him walk to a car?"

Tommy's head snapped up. "Yeah. When he first called me over, he was leaning on a car."

"Did he drive away in it after he spoke to you?"

"I dunno. I guess he didn't leave 'til I was gone."

"And what did the car look like?"

"Well, I think it was a Mustang 'cause it looked liked my brother's friend's car. It was black and it had 2 doors and it was pretty shiny."

"You didn't happen to see the license plate, did you?"

"Nah."

"Okay," Ray said, "Thank you, Tommy. You've been a great help." Ray shook Tommy's hand as did Fraser. Then Ray looked towards Tommy's parents. Thank you Mr. & Mrs. Pierson, I'll call you if I have any other questions.

"You're welcome, Detective, Constable," replied Mr. Pierson. "Please call us when you've apprehended this man." He handed Ray a business card.

"We will." Ray took the card and turned back towards Tommy. "Tommy, I'm gonna give your mom my phone number. I want you to call me if you remember anything else, okay?" Tommy nodded, and Ray handed Mrs. Pierson a card with his cell phone number on it. They said their good-byes and Ray and Fraser left the room.

As they exited the hospital, Ray turned towards Fraser. "Hey, Frase, you were pretty quiet in there. Somethin' wrong?"

"No, Ray. You were doing such an excellent job of speaking to Tommy that I didn't feel it necessary to interject."

"That's a first," Ray said.

"Really, Ray. You're speaking as if I have a tendency to talk too much and I feel, quite frankly, that that is definitely not the case in most situations, if not all situations, when.....

"Fraser, you're rambling."

Ray and Fraser went back to the school and drove around the block and the surrounding neighborhood looking for a black Mustang. Nothing. They headed back to the precinct to sort out the scarce evidence they had managed to collect. On the way back, they stopped for lunch at a small diner.

"Well Frase," Ray said over his hamburger, "we don't have much."

"I know that, Ray, however, we have just started our investigation." Fraser munched on his shrimp salad.

"You know we don't have much time. Welsh wants this case solved yesterday."

"I'm well aware of that, Ray. We can only utilize the information that is available to us."

"Yeah, whatever, Fraser."

Shortly after, two young men walked into the diner and sat at the counter. One looked around the restaurant and spotted Ray. He smiled. "Hey, look who's here," he said to his friend, "it's our coach." They both got off the counter stools and approached Ray and Fraser who were finishing up their lunch at a booth. "Hey Ray, what's the good word?"

Ray looked up at the two boys approaching and smiled broadly. "Hey Mike, Chuck, how're you guys doin'?"

"Great, great," Mike replied.

Ray looked over towards Fraser who was observing the two teens. "Frase, this is Mike Cummings and Chuck Winters. Mike's our star pitcher and Chuck's our equally great first baseman. This is Constable Benton Fraser."

They both looked over to Fraser.

"Very pleased to meet you," Fraser said as he shook their hands.

"Likewise." Mike replied.

Ray continued. "Fraser's our new assistant coach. He's a whiz at softball, can even figure out ball vel... veloc.... the speed of the ball."

Fraser added, "It's really quite simple to calculate. In fact, an electronic timer is not even necessary to compute an accurate velocity when simple logic can determine a precise solution."

Both boys looked at each other, and then to Ray.

"He's Canadian," Ray explained.

"Oh," they both said in unison.

"So," Ray asked, "are you both ready for the big game tomorrow?"

"Sure, coach," Chuck replied. "That's all we can think about."

"Well, you just make sure you get to bed early tonight. No partyin'. We'll save that for tomorrow night after we win." Ray said enthusiastically.

"We'll be good, Ray," Mike countered. They turned to Fraser, who continued to gaze at the two teens. "Nice to meet you, Constable," Chuck said. "Yeah, nice," added Mike.

"My pleasure," responded Fraser.

"See you tomorrow, Ray," both boys smiled at Ray.

"Tomorrow we rule," Ray said proudly.

The boys went back to the counter. "Those are two great kids, Fraser," Ray said. "It's because of them that we're gonna win this game tomorrow."

Fraser didn't respond.

"Earth to Fraser, where are you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ray. Just thinking about something."

"Anything I should know about?"

"No, Ray, everything's fine."

They got up to leave, Ray depositing the money for the meal on the table. As they walked past the boys, Ray slapped them both on the back. "Don't forget," he said, "no partyin'." The boys waved and turned back to the counter.

When Fraser and Ray returned to the precinct, they stopped at the break room so Ray could get his upteenth cup of coffee for the day. Francesca was sitting with Diefenbaker having her lunch. Diefenbaker was sitting on a chair opposite Francesca. He was eating some chopped meat on a plate which was on the table. Francesca looked up and smiled when she saw Fraser enter the room. "Oh, hi Frase, why don't you come over here and join us?" she asked as she patted the empty chair beside her.

Fraser and Ray approached her. "What about me, Frannie?" Ray asked.

"Well, Ray, if you'd open your eyes, you'd see there aren't enough chairs at this table for you." "Thanks, Frannie," Ray replied, "that's real nice." And he walked away to get his coffee. Francesca turned her attention back to Fraser. "Well, Frase? I have an extra sandwich. You're welcome to it. I made it myself."

Fraser shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "Thank you, Francesca, but Ray and I already had our lunch, and now we have to get back to work."

Ray sniped across the room, "Yeah, work Frannie, you know what that is. People sit at a desk and type stuff."

"Nobody asked you, Ray," she fired back. "So, Frase, I hear you're coaching Ray's softball team tomorrow."

"Well, assistant coaching, actually."

"That's really interesting, Benton. Maybe I can go to the game and you can explain the fundamentals of softball to me." Dief looked up and whined. Fraser shot him a disapproving glance.

"Well, that would be very nice, Francesca." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ray leaving the break room. Fraser looked up at the clock. "Well, look at that, it's 2 o'clock, time to resume police work." He looked over to Diefenbaker.

"Dief."

No response.

"Dief."

Nothing.

"Dief."

Yawn.

"Dief, WOULD you mind."

Diefenbaker whined again and jumped off the chair. He reluctantly followed Fraser back to Ray's desk in the squad room. Ray was looking over his notes.

"I hate to tell Welsh this is all we got."

At that moment, Lieutenant Welsh opened his door. He saw Fraser and Ray and curled his finger at them to come into his office. They both looked at each other and walked towards the Lieutenant's office.

A few minutes later the door opened and Fraser and Ray exited. From behind his desk, Welsh hollered, "I expect a report on my desk before your shift ends today, Detective." "Right, sir," Ray responded and closed the lieutenant's door. "He's not happy, Fraser."

"Well, Ray, his taxes are being audited and it looks like....."

"No, Fraser!" Ray said exasperated. "He's not happy with the investigation!"

"Ah yes. Well, as I said earlier, Ray, we've just started. It's important to remain optimistic."

Ray looked at him, a blank expression on his face. "Optimistic, Fraser? There you go speaking Canadian again."

"Optimistic, Ray. Hopeful."

"Okay, Fraser, you can be opti... optim... you can be hopeful. I'm gonna go write my report." Ray walked over to his desk and Fraser followed.

It was now 6:00PM. Ray had finished his report and it lay in Welsh's in box. "Let's go, Fraser, there's not much more we can do on this today, and we have a big day tomorrow."

"Right you are," Fraser replied.

"Oh, and Fraser, what is up with you anyway?" Ray asked.

"I don't know what you mean, Ray."

"Ever since the diner, you been so quiet, I forgot who I was with."

"That's very funny, Ray. In response to your question, nothing is up with me. I'm merely trying to sort out the facts of the case so I may come to a logical conclusion."

"Sorry I asked," Ray said. "Come on, I'll drive you to the Consulate."

Ray dropped Fraser and Diefenbaker at the Consulate. As Fraser held the car seat forward for Dief to exit, Ray said to him, "I'll be here at 9:00AM sharp to pick you up tomorrow. Make sure you're ready or I'll drag you to the game in your underwear."

"Well, that will hardly be necessary, Ray. Don't worry. I'll be ready."

"OK, bye, Fraser."

"Goodnight, Ray." Fraser entered the Consulate as Ray sped away.

That evening, Fraser sat at his desk contemplating the day's events. He went over in his mind what Tommy had told him and Ray. And then he thought about the diner. It was bothering him. Nagging at him. He hadn't said anything to Ray because it was merely a feeling he had and he didn't want to upset Ray with just a feeling. He looked at the clock. It was 7:30, still early. He put on his jacket, motioned to Diefenbaker, and he and Dief left the Consulate to return to the precinct to work on the computer.

The next morning, Ray was outside the consulate promptly at 9:00AM. Fraser and Dief were waiting for him. Fraser pulled the seat forward for Diefenbaker and as he entered the car he looked over to a smiling Ray. "Good morning, Fraser, Dief. Ready to blow that Gary team outta the water?"

"Why would we want to do that Ray?" Fraser asked.

"Never mind, Fraser. Just get in the car."

On the ride to the ball park, Fraser was again silent. Finally Ray spoke, "OK Fraser, spill it, what's going on?"

"I don't know what you mean, Ray."

"Don't give me that, Fraser. You been quiet since yesterday at lunch. I wanna know what's going on. We're partners, Fraser. And partners share. Now spit it out!"

Fraser looked over to Ray who had a determined look on his face.

"All right, Ray. I'm afraid your star pitcher may be the elementary school drug dealer."

Ray almost ran off the road, "WHAT! What're you talking about, Fraser? Mike's a good kid, he doesn't deal drugs!"

"Well, Ray. Tommy said something yesterday that I didn't quite understand at first. And then at the diner I saw Mike and Chuck and I suddenly understood what Tommy was saying." He paused for a moment.

"Come on, Fraser, before I'm 80," Ray sniped.

"Tommy had said that the man 'looked funny' and when you pressed, he said he 'looked at him funny'."

"Yeah, so. He's a kid. He thought the guy looked weird."

"No, Ray. I believe what he meant was, the man 'looked at him funny' because there was something wrong with his eyes."

Ray was silent.

Fraser continued. "When Mike and Chuck came into the diner, I saw Mike's eyes, Ray. I noticed that Mike's eyes were strabismic."

"FRASER!"

"Ray, Ray. Strabismus is a visual disorder marked by the inability to direct both eyes to the same object due to incoordination of the muscles of the eyeballs. It can be corrected by eyeglasses, which I assume Mike wears when he pitches. I'm sure you've noticed his eyes, Ray."

"Okay, Fraser, so he has an eye condition. So do I. That doesn't mean he's selling drugs to kids no more than I am."

Fraser went on with his explanation. "Tommy also said the man was around the same age as his brother, which is 17, he had black hair and that he was leaning on a Mustang."

"AHA, Fraser. Mike drives a Cavalier. I seen it myself."

"I checked the motor vehicle records last night, Ray."

"Checked them how?"

"I went back to the precinct."

"What? You did that without telling me! I'm gonna pop you in the head, Fraser! How many times did I tell you that partners share and THAT'S NOT SHARING, FRASER!" Ray was furious now.

"Ray, if I had called you last night, you would've acted much like you are acting right now and hung up the phone on me. I had to find out, Ray."

"So, what did you find out?" Ray was afraid of the answer.

"That Mike's father owns a black Mustang."

Silence.

"I'm sorry, Ray."

There was silence in the car. After a few minutes, Ray spoke. "The game doesn't start until 1:00. Before I go accusing my friend of somethin', I'm gonna make sure." He looked over towards Fraser. "There's an envelope on the back seat. Get it." Fraser turned around and retrieved the large manila envelope Ray was referring to.

"Open it." Inside was a picture of the Heavy Hitters with Mike standing in the middle. "Tommy should be home by now. We're going to his house to see if he can ID Mike."

Fraser and Ray came out of Tommy's house and walked towards the GTO. When they got into the car, Ray rested his head on his hands on the steering wheel. "I can't believe it, Fraser. I can't believe Mike's our guy."

Fraser looked over to Ray, "I'm sorry, Ray. What are you going to do?"

Ray sat up straight. "Arrest him." He started the engine and sped off.

Fraser and Ray arrived at the game around noon. There already were quite a few spectators in the stands. They walked over to the field where the boys on the team were warming up. Mike was standing in the middle of the field with Billy, his relief pitcher. "Let me do this, Fraser," Ray said. He looked over towards Mike, hesitated, and then approached him. Mike looked up and smiled when he saw Ray. "Hey Coach, you're late. I thought you said no partying last night." Ray ignored him. He looked at Billy, "Billy, you're pitching today." Billy's mouth fell open. Mike jumped in. "Whaddya talking about? I'm here!" Ray looked at Mike like he didn't know him.

"I need to speak to you, NOW." Ray said sternly. Then he turned around and walked away from Mike.

"Uh oh, Mike, what did you do?" Billy asked nervously.

"Hell, nuthin'!" Mike replied somewhat indignant.

He followed Ray off the field. Ray was now standing over by the dugout, Fraser and Dief with him. Mike approached. He ignored Fraser. "What's going on, Ray. Why'd you pull me outta the game?"

Ray looked at him, his eyes in an angry squint. "Mike, I'm just gonna ask you and I want you to tell me the truth. Are you selling drugs to kids?"

Mike's eyes grew wide. He started to protest.

"MIKE, shut yer mouth if you're gonna lie! We have a positive ID. Don't lie to me! Don't you lie to me!" Ray screamed.

Mike couldn't look at Ray. He kept his eyes to the ground. "I'm waiting for an answer." Ray's voice was lower now. With that, Mike took off, running towards his car which was parked around the back of the dugout. "MIKE!" Ray yelled to his back. Dief took off and chased after Mike. Ray started to sprint after him also, but Fraser grabbed his arm. "Ray, he can't get away from Diefenbaker." Ray looked at Fraser, and together they walked around the dugout to find Mike cowering against the building with Dief fiercely growling at him. "Get him away from me!" Mike screamed. "Dief!" Fraser called him off. Ray went up to Mike, turned him around, and cuffed him. As he was cuffing him, he spoke quietly into Mike's ear, "Just tell me everything, why you did this, and maybe I can help you." Mike was silent.

Ray had called for unmarked back up. He had the officers come around the back of the dugout and remove Mike discreetly. He didn't want to ruin the game for the rest of the team. Mike hadn't said anything as he was led away. After the unmarked car drove away, Ray, Fraser and Dief walked back to the field to get the game underway.

The following Friday, Ray was sitting at his desk when Fraser approached him. "Hello Ray." He glanced at the large trophy standing behind Ray. "When are you going to let the team have their trophy, Ray?"

Ray looked up at Fraser, "whaddya mean THEIR trophy?"

"Understood." After a few minutes, Fraser spoke again. "Did you speak to Assistant State's Attorney Kowalski?"

"Fraser, you can say her name. It's Stella, Stella."

"Alright, Ray, did you speak to Stella, Stella?"

"Hardy ha ha. Yeah, I did. She's taking into consideration that this is Mike's first offense, and the fact that he's 16 and that he apologized to Principal Simmons and swore he'd never do it again, not to mention the fact that she owes me a favor. So he's getting off with a few hundred hours community service. And he's going to apologize to Tommy and send him a written letter of apology." Both men were silent. Ray went on, "He's really a good kid, Frase. He just fell in with the wrong crowd. You know, peer pressure."

"Ah yes, peer pressure, Ray. I do understand that concept. Did I ever tell you about the time I was forced to put on a dress for the senior dance? Peer pressure, Ray."

"Stow it, Fraser. Let's go grab some lunch before Frannie decides to have you for her lunch."

"Oh dear."

The End

All comments welcomed, BiermannR@home.com