Standard Disclaimer. If only they really did belong to me, I'd bring them out of the attic and out of the closet. Please send comments, questions, compliments, and otters to sdelcul@mail.com.
-Special thanks to Kasia, my little Polish ambassador.
I recommend reading the lyrics anyway, especially if you haven't heard the song.
"You're welcome, Ray. Is there something in particular about this case that bothers you?"
"Yeah, but I don't know what it is. I just have this feeling, you know?"
"A hunch?"
"Yeah, a hunch."
Any response on his part was broken off when things began to happen.
As shots were fired in the back, Ray saw movement out of the corner of his eye and fired, wounding a man. He rushed into the back room. One man was dead, slumped over a chair. Two other men were waiting for him. As soon as he saw them, he ducked, barely in time to miss being hit, the bullet going all the way through the flimsy door. Ray ducked behind cover and planned his next move carefully but the situation deteriorated quickly. He exchanged fire for a few minutes but soon ran out of bullets. Unfortunately the bad guys were carrying glock-17 pistols. Made almost entirely of plastic, their high hit probability and almost double the rounds of his own gun made this an unfair battle. Ray could see one of the bad guys approaching him and prayed that Fraser would be able to at least call for back up.
Looking around he saw nothing that would help him but he wouldn't go down without a fight. Gearing himself, he looked up in time to see Dief attack the man nearest him. Luckily, instead of trying to shoot at the wolf headed his way, the man tried to run. Fraser wasn't far behind and it wasn't long before the bad guy was out of commission. This brought the odds back into their favor. There was still one bad guy left but he was no match for the combined efforts of Ray, Fraser, and Diefenbaker.
"We got 'em. Went to check on a lead, got there right after they shot the bookie. It was too late for him, but there's no way they're gonna get away with this one."
"Good job, Detective."
"Thank you, sir."
The next day Ray found himself once again in Welsh's office. This time, however, he was receiving good news.
"It's great, Fraser. Three days in Las Vegas. All we have to do is transfer prisoners and do some paperwork. I'm so glad that the Vegas police department is letting us take the prisoners to them."
Fraser tried to forget memories of transporting another prisoner with another Ray.
"We can take care of business on the first day and have two days left before coming back. You are coming, right?"
"Yes, Lieutenant Welsh was able to convince Inspector Thatcher to give me the time."
"Fraser, considering what happened last week with Dief, the Polish ambassador, the doughnuts, and the superglue, I don't think she's hard pressed to wanna get rid of you. She did threaten to fire you an' all."
He was bored. Bored out of his mind. They had been sitting here since 3:30, the time of their appointment. They had been told that the DA was running a little behind and it would only be a few minutes. That was an hour ago. He'd counted the ceiling tiles, admired the light fixtures, read the three magazines (all from 1980), and watched Fraser sit. Fraser, of course, didn't seem to mind waiting. Somehow the Mountie didn't get bored. Must be just like standing sentry to him. But Ray was not a man used to sitting around waiting. He needed something to do. "So Frase, you ever been to Las Vegas?"
"No, Ray, I haven't. Have you?"
"No, and I don't think sitting around here, waitin' on Mr. Flashy-pants DA and filling out paperwork is what I would call seeing the city, you know?"
"He's a busy man, Ray. I'm sure he'll do his best to see us expeditiously. In fact here comes his secretary now." They both stood up, ready to go in.
"What do you mean he left for the day?!" Ray exploded.
"Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray! Calm down. We'll just come back tomorrow morning. Why don't we go to dinner? We can see part of the city."
"Fine. Let's blow this joint." He allowed himself to be placated.
Finding a nearby restaurant, they were quickly seated and ordered a light dinner. Looking around, Fraser admired the view, but froze upon seeing the occupants of a larger table at the back of the restaurant.
"Can you believe the nerve of that guy? Making us wait like that? I can't believe . . . "
As he watched the men seated at the table stood. Two of the men shook hands. One was an older gentleman, who bore a strange resemblance to Leslie Nielsen. The other man was younger, in his early forties with a receding hairline, piercing green eyes and a small mustache. It was this second man that had caught the Mountie's attention.
"Fraser!"
He was startled to realize that Ray was talking to him.
"What's up? You look like you saw a ghost or something."
"No, no ghost. Just." He looked back at the table but the man was gone. "Just thought I saw an old friend."
"Okay."
By going in first thing in the morning they completed all the requisite paperwork by lunch time. Fraser was now convinced that what he thought he had seen was only wishful thinking. At least his brain believed it. His heart wanted to believe otherwise.
The streets of Las Vegas were bright, almost painfully so. It wasn't much fun being in this town with a man who wouldn't gamble. "Why not, Frase?"
"Ray, it's not the legality that I find unappealing."
"Then what it?"
"The addictive tendency of the game, as well as the probability of winning being rather low. The house stands a much better chance of making a profit than I do."
"But that's what gambling's all about, the chance to win something for nothing. We don't have to be in court until tomorrow afternoon. What else is there to do? 'Sides getting married, and sorry Fraser, but you just ain't my type."
"Understood. I believe Don Ho will be singing "Tiny Bubbles"at the Las Vegas Hilton or we could go see Wayne Newton at Caesar's Palace."
"Wayne Newton? We're in Las Vegas and you wanna see Wayne Newton? What are you, my mother?"
"No. I'm sure she would love his autograph though. I believe she is a fan."
Ray laughed. "Yeah, guess you're right. All right, we'll go see Don and Wayne, but then you gotta promise to gamble with me for a while. You can be my good luck charm, Mr. Card Shark."
"I assure you, Ray, I used no illegal methods or devices to, as you put it, 'beat the pants off ya.'"
"Oh, I know Fraser, I know. Don't mean I have to like going broke." He smiled.
"Understood." Ben replied, finally smiling back.
"Not bad, Fraser. I mean, I'm not exactly a fan but it wasn't too bad."
"I agree. Your mother will appreciate the autograph, Ray."
"Yeah, she-oh, excuse me."
They had bumped into two men coming out of the door of one of the casinos they were walking past.
"Hey, watch where you're going," grumbled the shorter of the two men.
Fraser looked up and was stunned. Was he hallucinating? The taller man looked at him, a similar expression on his face.
"Calm down. Nobody got hurt."
"You calm down." The shorter man was built like a football player. "Or I'm gonna-"
The taller man held up a hand and addressed him without looking away from Fraser. "Just bring the car, Joey."
"Sure, boss. Be right back."
Time froze until he was way out of earshot. "And you would be?" The man was talking to Stan but still hadn't looked away from Fraser.
"My name is Detective" he suddenly recognized the man and almost laughed. "Vecchio." He felt really funny shaking his own hand but for now he had to keep playing the role.
"Ah." He didn't say anything else just kept looking at Fraser, his eyes alive with the words that his mouth couldn't say.
Fraser and Vecchio were still looking at each other and Stan felt like a third wheel. Obviously these two felt the same way. He smirked. So, Fraser does know about love, just not with women. Explains a lot. I'll just look at the window over here. Yeah, that's it. Such pretty lights. Mhm.
A limo pulled up and interrupted them. Vecchio
got in the car without breaking eye contact with Fraser until the last
possible moment.
Fraser watched the car pull away until it was out of sight.
Stan wanted to say something to break the silence but felt like he would be disturbing something important. When the limo was gone, Fraser got a smile that was brighter than all the lights in the city but was gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by his normal non-expression.
"Something I should worry about?"
"No, no. No, everything's all right. Everything is actually fine."