Promises: Last time we had no cruelty to anything, (except a Detective and they hardly count, right? Hey!) so this time I thought I'd see if that would work again. Other promises, a *better* experience, shopping, fashion advice, Frannie, mood music, and lovely fragrance. A *ladies* episode. ;) Quiz by Laurie Taylor. Ltaylor@provider.uk. Beta Reading by Dyevka
"No, Officer. We were weaving because my *friend* here tried to shock me to death just now." Ray shifted enough to pull out his badge along with his driver's license.
"Oh, Detective Vecchio," the patrolman exclaimed with delighted recognition. He squatted lower and shined the powerful flashlight into the tiny car. "And you're Constable Fraser! I saw you guys on TV today. We had it on at the station. Everybody was cheerin' and whoopin'. Boy, you guys sure made the department look good. I tell you, it was great to see those slimy reporters have to say something good about us for once. Made my day. Made my Sergeant's too. Hey, Detective, how's it working with the Mountie? Must be a lot of work getting in deep, pounding away at it, trying new things. The investigations you do, I mean. Real exciting stuff."
"Uh huh. Look, its late and we gotta get home. I mean I gotta get the *Constable* here to his apartment so's I can go home, ya know? And I gotta fight my way through those reporters you were talkin' about. They're camped on my front lawn."
"Hey, there's no need to worry 'bout them, Detective. We saw how they was crowded around your house. But there was this other Mountie, you know? He come out on your porch and told 'em about some ordinance nobody knew about and they had to back off like, two hundred yards or something."
"Ah, that would be Ordinance number #169 of the civil codes of the state of Illinois . . . I believe," Fraser finished weakly as Ray swung his burning glare in his direction.
"You loaned my State's Ordinance book to Frobisher, Benny?"
"I--" Fraser finally nodded his head.
"Look, Detective," the officer interjected as another patrol car stopped by them, "My buddy, Claire there," he said indicating the officer who'd just arrived, could take your Mountie partner home if you like and I could give you an escort home, get you through the thinned ring of reporters with no trouble at all."
"Hey, Bob, you got the daring duo. I can't believe the people you run into out here sometimes. Officer Fraser, I'd be *really* pleased if you'd let me give you a ride home." Claire circled around and opened his car door. "Is it far from here? Never mind, doesn't really matter. In fact it'll just give us more time to get to *know* each other."
"I appreciate the offer ma'am--"
"Cut the ma'am stuff, will ya? Come on," she urged and tugged on his arm to get him out and moving.
"Ray--"
"You can see what the inside of an *American* patrol car looks like. Bet ya don't get much chance to do that, what with being stuck with a plain-clothes detective all the time. Wanna run the lights?" She backed him toward her open passenger door.
"Um, no, I-- Ray?" Fraser called over her shoulder.
"Don't worry, Detective. She'll take good care of him." He leaned back against Ray's door. "She's one of the best officers in the precinct. I'd say *the* best but I don't need to be ribbed 'bout being prejudiced 'bout her. She and me, we kinda . . . we're gonna get married. Soon as I make detective. Claire don't want us at the same precinct married. Be kinda hard on her. She's where she wants to be, on the streets."
Ray watched in indecision as Claire loaded his lover up and prepared to haul him out of sight. Suddenly Fraser pushed his way from the car and ran the few steps to Ray's open window. Suddenly Bob was no longer there and Ray suspected Benny might have *shoved* the man aside. He was too distracted by the pained look on his lover's face to have noticed.
"Ray, Francesca and I . . . It's not . . . You see . . . "
"No, Benny. I *don't* see, and I'm not sure I want to." Ray bowed his head.
"Better get a move on, Constable," Bob urged as he laid a hand on Fraser's shoulder. "I ran the plate when I was pulling you two over and if some news-hound hears the name Vecchio in the response this place could be swarming in no time."
Fraser was moved backwards by Bob's gentle hand.
"No!" He stopped firm. "Ray, I didn't learn it with Francesca. Francesca and I have *never*--" he glanced at the officers beside him. "Nothing has ever happened between Francesca and myself. Nothing of that nature. Nothing. Do you understand?" he pleaded.
Ray looked up into blue eyes greyed by the street lights. His lover looked so devastated, so in need of reassurance. Claire easily maneuvered the silent Mountie into her car.
Ray finally found his senses. "Yes, Benny! I understand," he called just before the passenger door was closed. He nodded vigorously at the smiling Mountie and returned his smile, adding a sense of relief to it.
"Shopping?" Ray read the telephone message from Benny with his usual outrage at anything that differed from his perception of what his day would be like. "Lunch. That's what he said when he phoned yesterday. Promised we'd get together for lunch now that Thatcher's let him back out of that anti-publicity cage," he explained to the empty air around his desk. Thankfully the extra attention he'd received from the press and his colleagues alike had faded away during the last two days after a hellish week and Ray had counted on a chance to spend a quiet hour with Benny. The first chance they'd had to meet face to face since that stupid diamond thief had *dared* to use his beloved Riv as a get-away car.
Ma and Frobisher were going out for lunch today too. He'd rather not have overheard *that* this morning. "Back to the beach" she'd said to Frannie as he came in the kitchen for a quick cup of coffee. Both women had giggled. Unbelievable!
And now this. Benny leaving a phone message for him, changing their plans to *shopping* during Ray's lunch hour. They were supposed to meet on the corner of Chesterfield and Darby. He mangled the note by folding it in haphazard halves several times and stuffed it in his jacket pocket as he stormed into Welsh's office. His Lieutenant granted him the rest of the afternoon off before Ray could work up a satisfying head of steam. Somehow Ray felt let-down by this as he stalked out.
No Fraser. Ray surveyed the sidewalks again and saw no Red serge, no RCMP uniform of any kind. He slumped against a store front and glared at his shoes. Luantoni's. Supposed to be a new up and coming brand. Well, at least they were comfortable. But the quality of the leather really wouldn't begin to reveal itself until he'd worn them a day or so.
Legs came into his view. Long legs wrapped in sheer silk. Smooth shaved legs with shin bones defined, calves that tapered down to strong ankles, blue feminine shoes, flat-heeled and . . . perfectly . . . polished. Ray's breath stopped.
"Hello, Ray."
His head swam. Ray clutched at the slick support of the marbled store front at his back. He squeezed his eyes closed. He tried to get his lungs to function. He forced his chest to expand and, miraculously, air was pulled inside him. The fuzzy swirling sensation between his ears faded. He kept breathing. Shoes as highly polished as only a Mountie could manage.
"Are you ready to do a little shopping? I realize you don't have much time but you could help me pick out a few things and I can finish making my selections after you return to work. Ray?"
"Oh God," he managed weakly.
"Ray, won't you open your eyes? You're beginning to worry me. I don't want to have to carry you to a hospital. I'm hardly dressed for such strenuous activity."
"Dressed?" Ray strangled on the word. "Benny," he whispered, "what the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm meeting you Just as I said I would in the message I left with Elaine this morning. Didn't you get it? Ray?"
The cop opened his eyes. The blue shoes were still there, inches from his own. He didn't flinch. He didn't move a single muscle except for the ones connected to his numb eyeballs. The traitorous orbs rotated, up, slowly, *very* slowly. Ankles. Yes, he'd seen those before, and the shins, the curves of the calves, smooth calves, he noted a second time. Then the eyes in his head saw knees. Kind of big, really, but they fit with the thighs. Muscular thighs like a lady tennis player. Several pairs of legs popped into mind as examples, all below white skirts or shorts, all running around a tennis court, all on TV during some big match like that Wimbledon thing in England.
He moved his head, pulling his gaze higher up those thighs, outrageously higher. Absurdly-- Jesus! Probably *four inches* before he came to a skirt. It was green. Oh, that one Benny'd worn with the long bead things, the dress with the low cut front and all those green buttons. Ray saw the buttons. He saw the beads. He saw more skin, and finally, his lover's apprehensive expression.
"Hey," Ray said softly and caught his lover's hand in a reassuring grasp. "Don't look so upset. You want to go shopping? We're going shopping. And for as long as you like. I took the afternoon off." That got him a delighted smile and a quick peck on the cheek.
"That's a wonderful surprise, Ray. Thank you. Shall we go in to the shop?"
Ray took his lover's hand and was led into the clothing store. It was quaint, at least that's the only word he could use to describe it. The entrance door was an elaborate stained glass design depicting some nature scene. At least Ray guessed that's what it was. Plants and a five pointed star within a circle, some Russian lettering, a clear etching of a woman. He bumped in to his lover as he backed into the place.
"Sorry," Ray whispered and got an arched brow for his trouble. Quiet music played in the background, something like, well it really sounded like birds and rain. The walls were lined with double rows of racks, the floor was covered in bright rugs that lapped over each other in no particular pattern. And, he took a deep sniff. Incense, or scented candles were burning somewhere. There wasn't a human being in sight.
"Are you sure you wanna shop here?"
"Yes, Ray. I've been by here a few times and only looked in through the door. It's an intriguing shop, don't you think?"
"Sure it is. I'm just a little . . . surprised by it, that's all, lover. It's a great place, kinda . . . eclectic," he finished as he eyed the racks of clothing.
The place was a riot of colors and patterns. Ray spied a table with padded chairs at it and made a bee-line for one.
"No," Miss Fraser said as she tugged the man back to his feet. "I didn't ask you to come with me so you could sit and stare like some trapped animal. Come on, look around with me."
"Ah, I see you've made it in the door, young man."
Ray jumped and flinched closer to his lover. A woman stepped from behind him and smiled softly. He eyed her suspiciously, taking in the long dress, the jewelry, the flowing hair and eyes almost as blue as *Benny's*.
"You've been waiting outside for quite some time. I'm glad to see your companion finally arrived." She turned to the tall figure in the green dress. "Is there anything I can help you with or would you prefer to browse undisturbed?"
"No need for you to trouble yourself, ma am. We'd like to . . . browse."
"Fine," she nodded at the Mountie. "The dressing rooms are there. Just leave the clothes you decide against in the dressing room and I'll return them to the rack for you."
Fraser nodded and the woman retired behind a high carved oak counter and busied herself with paperwork. A hand lettered sign hung on the laptop computer open at her right. 'Beta Readers R Us.' Curious, he thought.
"Let's try over here, Ray." I was thinking of a short dress, something without a lot of buttons or belts. What do you think?"
Ray glanced back at the woman before returning his attention to his lover who was holding up a very tiny white dress. "That? Benny, that'll *never* fit you."
"It's Lycra, Ray. And Spandex, probably. See? It stretches. It's supposed to be tight. Wouldn't this look great with white nylons? And maybe something . . . " He turned around looking at the displays.
Ray put his lips against the ears he'd kissed so many times before. "Something lacy underneath it all?"
Fraser smiled. "You know, that's the first time you've called me Benny. I mean, when I've been dressed like this," Fraser added and indicated the green dress.
"Is that okay?" Ray asked a little anxiously. "I don't want to keep calling you Miss. I want something more . . . intimate."
"That's fine, Ray. Now what lacy thing would you suggest?"
Later the shopkeeper had two complete outfits of Benny's folded on her counter but Ray was far from finished shopping. "Here's another red one," he said as he stuck the simple, sleeveless knitted dress in through the dressing room door and darted out again. "I'll be back in a second to help you get into it. I think I saw a sweater that'd go great with it," he explained, aiming his words over the top of the partition.
"Ray, there are quite a few clothes piled up in here. I don't think you should add a sweater to--"
"Here it is," "Ray exclaimed as he entered the cubicle and locked the slatted door behind him. He scooped up two garments from the floor and flung them over the top of the doorway, half hanging in the dressing room, half out into the shop. "Let me just get that zipper for you. Hold still, Benny. I don't want to snag- Ouch."
"Oh, did you hurt yourself? Let me see your finger."
A light kiss was delivered to Ray's pinched fingertip and he pulled his lover into another embrace. The organdy party dress with yards of netting and a terribly bulky skirt kept getting in his way as he tried to deepen their kiss. When the out-of-control sash slipped around his neck Ray pulled back and began to push the dress up in an attempt to get at the body beneath it.
Somehow during the process his belt was unbuckled, his pants came unzipped and dropped around his ankles. "You're not exactly helping, you know," Ray complained as he pushed the matching half-slip down.
"Oh? *I* thought I was. Is this in your way?" Benny asked, tugging Ray's jacket open.
"Not really. But this is." He bit at the bra strap tugging it aside and pushed his lover back against the wall. "Mind if I--" he thrust his hips forward and tasted the flesh under the strap. A delighted moan met his efforts as Ray explored under the piles of netting.
"Are you *sure* you don't like this dress, Ray?" Miss Fraser leaned her head back against the wall and moaned again as Ray began to suck along her neck. The room was close and hot now and all thoughts of where they were fled her mind. Ray teased mercilessly, running his fingers under the bra and down to the elastic bands of the garter belt. She groaned and sought his mouth out, ravaging the moistness.
They rocked together feeling each others excitement, desire and delight. Mounds of green surrounded them cushioning their embrace as the enjoyed each other.
"Ray, don't crush the fabric. Its rather delicate. I don't understand how women can be convinced to purchase clothing that is obviously designed to last no more than for a few wearings. Such wastefulness would make it imperative that they spend an inordinate amount of time shopping, constantly requiring replacements and necessitating a large selection to be available in their closets at all times."
"I know, Benny," Ray allowed some of his frustration to show. "Have you ever seen the ridiculous amount of clothes Frannie has?"
"Hey!" a terribly familiar voice called irately over the partition. "I do *not* have a ridiculous amount of clothes, Ray Vecchio. You take that back."
They froze. Ray had that distinct "caught smoking in the confessional" look and Fraser had his familiar "deer caught in headlights" look. Ray shook hi s head frantically. No. It couldn't be--
Fraser nodded slowly. Yes. It *had* to be--
"And by the way. You guys owe me fifteen bucks. You ran out half my gas the other night."
"We did not!" Ray retorted without hesitation. "Maybe a quarter of a tank, Frannie, but no where *near* half. And just what makes you so sure it was us?" he asked turning toward the door to make his voice penetrate the slatted panel better.
"Because you left something *behind*." She tossed a grayish tube over the top.
Ray caught it instinctively and eyed the item in horror. He bent to pull his pants up and stuffed the tube away in his pocket. Frannie's head appeared over the door top. "Hey! Get down from there! Are you climbin' the walls or something?" he scooted back to block her view of His partner, half clad in a dress and him zipping his Armani trousers up.
"Ohhh," Ray groaned and Fraser clutched at him to lend support. "I'm gonna be sick."
"Not on the dress!" the shopkeeper called and appeared beside Frannie.
"I'll take the dress," Fraser hastily assured her. "And the other one and the sweater. Now would you both please climb down from the chairs you are standing on and give us a moment of privacy? Thank you kindly."
Frannie grinned at him and hopped down. The shopkeeper eyed the crushed fabric billowing about the two and reluctantly joined the dark haired woman. "A relative of yours, Frannie?"
"Yeah, Dy," she answered and chuckled. "My brother, Ray. The other one's his friend Be--"
"Frannie!" Ray warned. "We don't really need no formal introductions."
"His friend," she continued in a louder tone, "who's name I *don't* know."
Ray heard snickering. He just *knew* it! "I'm gonna have ta *kill* her. You realize that, don't 'cha?"
"Now Ray--"
"Don't *now Ray* me. There's only one of us that's gonna walk outta this shop alive. It's her or me," he explained as he tucked his shirt in and straightened his suit jacket. "She's not gonna let me live after this. I remember what she did to Laurie Petracelli in tenth grade after Laurie accepted an invitation to a prom from this guy Frannie had her eyes on. Believe me, I'd rather be dead than let my sister have a chance at doing that to me. And this was over a guy she was just *interested* in, not some guy she'd been mooning over forever."
"Ray, You're not listening to me. Francesca is *no longer*, as you put it, mooning over me."
Dy nudged Frannie and arched a brow at her.
Frannie nodded and whispered, "It's true. I haven't been for a long time."
"Since when?" Ray challenged.
"Since three months ago," Frannie answered loudly.
Ray stuck his head out the open door and glowered at the two. "And just why not?"
A bare arm hauled him back inside and the door was closed firmly. "Help me with this, please. Apparently Francesca surmised that I was involved with someone and she ceased her amorous advances."
"All right. I give up, Frannie. Just who did you think Benny was involved with?"
"Ray, I can't reach this-- Thank you kindly. Now if you would just hand that dress out to--Ouch! A pin--the shopkeeper, I would have enough room to redress myself. Why don't you go out and sit at the table, join your sister-- Oh, Ray. You look awfully flushed."
"Benny, just-- just put this on. I wanna get outta here."
"Oh, I don't want to wear that one home again. I want to wear the one with the sweater. Could you move your foot?"
"May I snip the tags off for you?" the shopkeeper offered. "And if you'll had me the green dress you wore in I'll package it with your purchases."
The items appeared over the door, flopping onto the women's faces. They only giggled more.
"Eww," Francesca commented loudly as she held up the green dress with its row of buttons. "This is all wrong for you. These sleeves must look horrible on you. And the *shoulders*, are all wrong. You really should toss this in the trash, Fraser."
Ray groaned.
"I mean, Ray's friend who's name I don't know. Do you really want this to be put with the stuff Ray's buying you?"
"Perhaps you're right about that dress. And Ray is not buying these things for me. He accompanied me only to give me his opinion."
"What?" she asked indignantly. "Ray, you take Fra-- your friend shopping and don't *pay*? Wait till *Ma* hears about *this*!"
"Oh dear," Fraser murmured as Ray stormed out of the dressing room.
"Frannie," he started low, advancing as she withdrew across the shop, "why aren't you at the beach? It's lunch time, isn't it? Didn't you and Ma say something about going there for lunch today?"
"I-- No, I--" Frannie wadded the dress repeatedly.
"So you're telling me that you let *our* mother go *alone* with that *man* to a deserted beach to have a *picnic*? On a *blanket*? By them-*selves*?"
"Ray."
He turned at the soft call of his name. Benny stood in the dressing room doorway. The red knitted dress fit perfectly. It was short and simple, and Benny had put the white cardigan with its red piping on over it.
"Oh, that looks *great*," Frannie gushed as she darted around her brother and joined the shopkeeper who was straightening the sweater sleeves. "You could push the sleeves up like this, and the dress can come up a bit around the waist. Oh, much better length, don't you think so Ray? And the white sweater breaks up the vertical line of the red."
"And do you want to change into the red shoes you picked out earlier?" the shopkeeper asked as she retrieved them from the pile of purchases on the counter. She began tallying up the items as Fraser slipped into the new shoes.
Ray realized he was staring. The red was bold but the look of it all, everything together was actually kind of understated, classic. It looked-- *Benny*, looked good. Frannie cleared her throat and he flicked his startled gaze at her. She smiled back at him. Ray glowered and pulled his wallet out. He slapped a credit card on the counter and heard Benny's indrawn breath.
He whirled around and held his index finger up in the air, warning them both to stay silent. He gathered up the packages, nodded to the shopkeeper, glared at his sister and held the door open for Benny.
Be sure to catch the next episode of: A Buck and Change 10 or The Meal! Its double digits, folks and I'll be celebrating with my *favorite* slash ingredient!
Cuffs R Us quiz department, under the Management of Ms. L. Taylor is delighted to bring you another of their titillating and mind expanding quizzes. Please, enjoy.
6 Ray clutched at the slick support of ___ ___ ___ ____. 7 "Ray, don't crush ___ ______. It's rather delicate."
8 His lieutenant granted him the ____ before Ray could work up a satisfactory head ____ ____.
1 e
2 e
3 c
4 c
5 Her skirt hemline.
6 the marbled store front.
7 The fabric.
8 afternoon off, of steam.