Pairing: Renny/Ray K.

Category: Drama/Angst.

Rating: PG-13.

Warning: Stella the Bitch warning. I know that a lot of DS fans consider Stella a Grade-A bitch, but I usually cut her some slack. When we're first introduced to her, Ray K. is practically stalking her! And she is a woman in a tough male-dominated profession.

However, she has been less-than-nice! :) This is definitely one of the those times.

This series is set in a slightly alternate universe: Ray V. never left his Benny to go undercover, and Ray K. was assigned to the 27th Precinct and became involved with Renny. The Consulate is from Seasons 1 and 2.

Disclaimer:Renny's cookin', Ray's lookin', but I don't own 'em, Alliance does. Drat!

Comments on-list and off-list are welcome. E-mail: jeanniemarie@sprintmail.com.

(c) May 1, 2000 (Merry Beltane!)

*Renfield Turnbull headed for the 27th Precinct on a warm, spring day. The breeze was gentle and a little cool, and was just right for him in his red serge. He was feeling very happy today.

Ray Kowalski was the reason for that happiness. Ray had come to the Museum exhibit with him last weekend and had actually enjoyed it! Of course, it didn't hurt that the exhibit had been filled with naked Greek statues. Renny smiled to himself.

He clutched the manila envelope in his hand as the wind grew stronger. The papers were important information on a joint case that the Chicago PD and the RCMP liaisons had worked on. Inspector Thatcher had impressed upon him that he was to deliver the papers to either Detectives Kowalski or Vecchio, or preferably Leftenaut Welsh. Renny had nodded and put on his hat and gone out the door, freezing at Thatcher's yell. He had come back in and sheepishly took the envelope from her hand, trying not to meet her stony gaze, and had practically run out the door.

Forgetting that minor lapse, he concentrated on enjoying the day and looking forward to seeing Ray. He was going to see him tonight for their date, but an extra visit couldn't hurt.

The Precinct was noisy and crowded and he wondered not for the first time how the two Rays stood it, but he made his way through the squadroom, stepping aside for two patrolmen who ignored him, laughing and joking with each other, and he nodded politely to Elaine at her desk.

He was disappointed to see that Ray was not at his desk, nor Ray Vecchio. He went over to Elaine and asked, "Ms. Besbriss, is Leftenaut Welsh in?"

"Sorry, Turnbull, he's in Interrogation Room 3 right now."

"And where is...?"

"Ray and Ray are in there with him." Renny blushed at Elaine's reading of his mind, and she smiled at him. "You can wait at Ray's desk if you like."

"Oh, thank you! I shall do that."

Renny settled himself in front of his Ray's desk and patiently waited. He was under orders to give the envelope to one of those three men, so he knew that the Inspector would not be angry that he waited.

As the clock ticked away, his stomach began to rumble. He wished that he had brought something to eat with him. Perhaps he could take a quick trip to the vending machine for a granola bar. Or a chocolate bar, as he was not certain that the Precinct vending machines would have granola bars.

He was still debating about what to do when the click of high heels penetrated his consciousness. He straightened imperceptibly in his chair as he always did when a lady approached.

"So, Ray's newest piece of ass is draping himself over the chair."

Renny turned his head in surprise to see Stella Kowalski standing beside Ray's desk. Stunned, he didn't know what to say, his mouth hanging open. She laughed and the sound was not pleasant. He shivered.

Stella had one hand on her hip, her other hand resting on the desk. Her extremely casual pose frightened Renny. Her violet eyes were mean.

"How's it goin', Mountie? A little sore, are we?" At his blush she laughed again.

Renny was thankful that the noise of the squadroom prevented anyone from hearing his lover's ex-wife. Ray did not want to be out and Renny agreed that it could be dangerous for him, despite Ray Vecchio having no problems. Renny simply thought it would do Ray's reputation no good to have people know he was bedding dumb, klutzy Turnbull.

She leaned in closer to him. He could smell her perfume. "Listen, I know my ex, and he's a randy little sort. If he's not fucking some willing woman, he'd be open to doing it with a man. I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching. He's hot for you. Though why is beyond me. Ray can be a pain in the ass, but he's beautiful to watch in motion. Graceful, too. You look like some clumsy plowhorse next to him."

Renny blinked. His throat hurt but he rasped, "Please, Ms. Kowalski, I can't say anything about Detective Kowalski's personal life. I...I'm just delivering some papers..."

"Can it, Dudley." Stella's eyes grew hard. "He's just amusing himself with you until he can find the next woman who catches his eye. I mean, look at you. Don't get all hearts-and-flowers over my ex." She straightened up and smiled sweetly. "And like I said, a man as light on his feet as Ray is not going to stick around with some oaf like you. Have a nice day, Constable."

Stella sauntered away, Renny shaking in his serge. He carefully laid down the envelope that now looked a little wrinkled after his deathgrip. He took deep breaths, his face red and shamed. He nearly jumped out of his chair when he heard a hurried voice say, "Hey, Ren's, what's up?"

"Oh! Uh, hello, Detective Vecchio! I have some papers here for you. Inspector Thatcher was most insistent that I give them to you or Ray or Leftenaut Welsh." Renny stood and held out the envelope.

"Okay, let's have 'em." Ray quickly flipped through the pages and then jammed the envelope in his desk drawer, locking it with a tiny key. "Thanks, Ren. Hey, say hi to Benny for me, willya?"

"Yes, sir, I mean, Detective...I..."

Ray smiled and fluttered an elegant hand. "Relax, Ren. No one's gonna bite." He winked and leered. "Well, maybe Stanley will, " he said in a low tone.

Renny blushed and Ray laughed, winking at him and going back down the hall.

Renny sat back down again in the chair, his head whirling. Several minutes later he realized that he had to get back to the Consulate! He nearly tripped when he got up and stared miserably down at his boots. Big, oafish feet!

"Turnbull."

He looked up quickly and found himself staring into Elaine's big, brown eyes.

"Y...yes, Ms. Besbriss?"

"You okay?"

Her sympathy...or was it pity?...nearly hurt. He swallowed and straightened his shoulders. He was a Mountie! He could handle this!

"I'm fine, thank you kindly. Thank you for asking."

Elaine nodded, the sympathy still strong. Renny turned and walked out, mechanically walking to the Consulate. He discharged his duties there, and then walked home.

Once he was in the apartment, he slowly went to this room. He opened the closet and stared at the full-length mirror on the door. It was a recent addition to his bedroom. Ray had brought it over. He hadn't dared to say that he hadn't wanted a mirror. Not such a...revealing... one.

He bit his lip as he looked at his image in the mirror and came to a decision. He turned away and began unbuttoning his serge. It was draped over the bed, then followed by the undershirt, boots, jodhpurs, socks and briefs. He took a deep breath and turned back to face the mirror.

He disliked mirrors. He usually squinted so that he couldn't see his reflection too clearly. Now he forced his eyes to stay wide open.

He started with his shoulders. That was a good place to start. His shoulders were broad and not too bad. Of course, his skin was that shrimp-pink that he disliked. It was not like Ray's healthy creaminess or Benton Fraser's pure whiteness or Ray Vecchio's olive tint.

His eyes traveled down his arms. All right, good biceps, maybe even acceptable forearms. Except that they were too long.

His hands.

He blinked and flexed his fingers. Big. Clumsy. Awkward.

His gaze went to his chest next. Broad, strong, but hairless. Absolutely hairless! And not in the way that Ray's or Fraser's were. Theirs looked...sexy. His just looked ridiculous.

His stomach. At least that was flat.

He skipped quickly over what came next. He couldn't look at that part of his anatomy just yet.

His thighs were blocky. Why was he square or too big everywhere? His calves...they were not like Ray's. Graceful and like a dancer's. His were more like an elephant's in the circus.

Freak.

A shaking hand touched his thigh. He tried to see the graceful curves of Fraser. He was bigger than the other Mountie. Bigger and without the style and loveliness, though.

It was worse further south. His feet were huge. Clumsy. He couldn't even hold a candle to his graceful Ray. No, he, Renfield Turnbull, was always stumbling, always tripping over his own big feet.

Heart pounding, Renny dared to look further up.

He felt slightly nauseated while his skin turned a shade of crimson. How many times had he heard the snickers and whispers? He knew that size was a big deal to the male species, but his gym classmates in high school had made it quite clear: big wasn't better in his case. "Huge" and "monstrous" were two words he recalled with painful clarity.

It was a good thing that Ray never asked him to do the fucking in their relationship. He'd tear his slender lover apart.

Renny forced himself to turn around. Twisting his head, he managed to see his back. Okay, at least not a total disaster, though that awful pink color.

His buttocks? He let out a sigh. Doughy, huge globes. Certainly not like either Ray's delectable, hand-sized peaches. Or Fraser's perfectly-proportioned cheeks.

The back of his legs were no better than the front. Nearly to the point of despair, he turned around again.

The final hurdles.

He studied his hair. It was straight and a sandy color. Not like Fraser's thick, beautiful waves when he let it grow. Not like his own Ray's wild, wonderful spikiness. Not even like Ray Vecchio's sleek, shorn look. Just lank, dull hair which had been described in the past as "dirty blond" or "dishwater blond".

His eyes.

Blue, but not the startling-blue of his Ray, nor the sapphire-blue of Fraser's, or the breathtaking green of Ray Vecchio's. More like a pale, watery blue.

His face.

Big, square, utterly without charm or beauty. Set upon a neck with none of his Ray's graceful lines, or even those of Ray Vecchio's.

He could feel his body trembling as he sank to the bed, covering his eyes. His raspy breathing was the only sound in the room.

Ms. Kowalski had been right. He was a plowhorse next to Ray's elegant thoroughbred. How could he have been foolish enough to believe that he was worthy of even tying his Ray's sneakers? Hot tears slipped down his cheeks.

What must Ray have thought, looking at all those perfect Greek statues last weekend? Did he compare them to me and realize how clunky I look next to them, or him? Chris would laugh sometimes at my awkwardness. He said I was always three sizes too big for everything I did.

The doorbell rang. He shot off the bed and thrust his big legs into jeans and threw a T-shirt over his head. Ray was here.

Renny pasted a smile on his face as he hurried to open the door.*