Author's website: http://uk.geocities.com/jodie_mouse

Disclaimer: not mine, borrowed

Author's Notes: thanks to those who have enquired after 'the foot'

Story Notes: from a challenge on ds_flashfiction

Appropriate Footwear
by Jodie Louise

"I swear if I fucking saw my foot off the pain would be a lot less than what it is at the moment." I complain leaning against the closest tree trunk.

Both Fraser and Vecchio stop as well, while Dief weaves his way in and out of the surrounding trees chasing something or other.

"Ray! I really cannot see the logic in that statement." Fraser says in his best know-it-all voice that always makes me wanna punch something.

"Vecchio, shut the mountie up for me." I snap.

"It's your fault you cracked it," Vecchio says, "everyone knows you should wear hiking boots for hiking."

"I was wearing boots!" I protest, shifting my weight on to my good foot.

"Ray, I'm afraid Ray is quite correct in that you weren't wearing appropriate footwear."

"They're my head kicker boots." I say gesturing at them.

Well, he did say 'wear boots' for the trip into the mountains and these are the only boots I have. Well, the only boots I have since Dief vomited on my bona fide hiking boots after eating, or rather stealing and eating, two pizzas.

"That's as may be but they are not the correct footwear for hiking in the mountains." says Mr I-Know-Better-Than-You.

"Smart ass mountie." I mumble under my breath crossing my arms and settling back even further against the tree trunk, sitting on the ground.

"I'm going to scout ahead and see if there are any places we can make camp for the night."

Oh. Great. Greatness. Just what I need another night out here with pumpkin pants and Armani 'I wear appropriate footwear'. My head starts to throb from all the fresh air I've been getting.

"Okay, I'll stay here and look after nature boy." Vecchio says sinking down next to me.

But it is already too late. It is happening. I can feel my mouth is gonna run off and do the 100 meter sprint without my brain.

"What's with you mounties and sleeping under trees?" I snap, and Fraser opens his mouth as if to reply but I wave him down, "No. No. I don't wanna know. Just go and do your mountie thing you do. You think you're so good dontcha?"

I really didn't want to hear another Inuit or mountie story or being told it was my fault I cracked a bone while my foot was throbbing and my toes were going numb. And if I was talking to me I might have popped myself by now but I don't care, my mouth is on it's way to the finishing line like it's been overdosing on steroids.

"Understood. I'll go and...well." mumbles Frase doing that thumb along the eyebrow thing.

"Yeah you do that." I spit, and in my head my mouth has crossed the finish line and won the race.

Vecchio leans against the tree like a sack of potatoes. When I snap at him he snaps back and it's all good. The trouble is after three months sharing a tent with Fraser I know how to push all the right buttons to annoy, to hurt, to cajole. In fact at the moment I didn't really care that Frase looked hurt, I wanted him to hurt at least as half as bad as my foot did. And then when I saw Frase wind his way from us through the trees with Dief trotting behind I suddenly wished I didn't have such a big mouth. I know then that I didn't win the race, in fact I lost, I came last, I got disqualified.

"You really have a way with words don't you?" Vecchio says rubbing his face.

It was one of those questions that didn't need an answer -- you know -- the rhetorical sort and I didn't have the energy to do anymore arguing or give Vecchio the silent treatment either. So I decide not only to give an answer but to agree with him.

"Yeah. I suck."

And I did. Big time.

When we came back from our adventure everything changed between me and Fraser. We'd had the intimacy of living closer than most married couples but without the intimacy if you know what I mean. So we're back in Chicago and I get paired officially with Vecchio and unofficially with the mountie. But it's not working so well -- I think I need a divorce, from Fraser. Welsh makes us three go away together to 'get back some of that magic' but so far it has been a disaster. If you'd told me six months ago I was gonna be paired with Vecchio and Fraser I'd though Vecchio would've been the problem. But he's not. I think the problem is me.

I sigh real loudly.

Vecchio turns and looks at me. It's funny. I don't have to tell him anything -- it's us that's got the duet thing going on now. We read each other so well that we can have whole conversations without saying a word. So I know what Vecchio is asking, nod in agreement, and he slowly unlaces the boot on the injured foot, pulls off the sock to inspect the swelling beneath.

"You're going to have a pretty bruise there." he says studying the foot.

And I like it -- his fingers smoothing over my foot. It feels kinda...safe.

"Probably the only pretty thing about me."

He stares at me from under slightly hooded eyes. Vecchio's saying 'you're so full of shit' breaks my gaze and goes back to studying my foot. Once again his fingers surround my foot, gently rubbing the darkening skin. And then places a tender kiss on the sole of my foot.

And suddenly I wanna cry.

He pulls the sock back on and carefully puts my boot back on and laces it for me. Like I said we don't need words. For a while we're just sitting against this big old tree listening to all the nature noise around us. And you know something -- I feel at peace. Just at that particular moment.

And then it is shattered as Dief bounds towards us through the trees like a white blur, Fraser close behind him.

End Appropriate Footwear by Jodie Louise: jodie_mouse@livejournal.com

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