I know, I know, I've been woefully silent. Besides doing some zine things, and my Dratted Real Life acting up, I got sucked into the vortex of writing Sentinel fic. But I'm baaaack ... it's President's Day, so I decided to use my day off to make amends for my lack of posting.
**Warning. Warning. Rated PG-13 for m/m content. You have been warned.**
Ben put his book down and cocked his head. "Great Scott! Did you hear that?" Standing up, he crossed to the window. Diefenbaker lifted his head briefly before sighing, closing his eyes again, and flopping over to his side.
"Hear what?" Ray looked up from the floor absently, then returned his attention to the sports section of the newspaper. "I didn't hear anything -- awww, damn. You know who's getting traded? It isn't like they had that many decent outfielders to begin with ..."
Ben threw the window open and stuck half of his body out, listening intently, trying to separate the assorted street noises over the sound of the pouring rain. "No, Ray, I'm afraid I don't know who was traded -- I could have *sworn* that I heard a screech, followed by a thump." He pulled his head back in. "You're sure you didn't hear anything?"
"Geez, the Cubs are really gonna suck next year ... Benny, if you're not planning on going out, wouldya close the window? It's freezing out there."
"Yes, Ray in a minute ... I think we should check it out," Ben said decisively.
Ray looked at him. "Check out what? The screech or the thud?" He tossed the sports section on the couch and began shuffling through the rest of the paper.
Going to the closet, Ben took out his jacket and his hat. "Actually, I think it was a thump, Ray, not a thud. But in all likelihood they're related."
"Uh-huh. Hey, move it." Ray poked Dief in the side. "Look, furball, you're on the funnies. Get up, wouldya?" The wolf made a disgruntled whuffing noise, opened one eye just wide enough to glare at Ray, and resolutely stayed where he was. "Hey, Fraser -- would you tell your wolf to get off the funnies? I haven't read them yet."
"Diefenbaker --" The wolf squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as possible. "Sorry, Ray -- maybe he'll have decided to move by the time we get back."
"*We*?" Stretching his legs out in front of him, Ray rested his arms against the couch and looked up in disbelief. "Benny, this is Chicago. Most of the thumps and screeches you hear are probably going to be recreational in nature. There's no point in running around in the rain trying to figure out what it was."
"Better safe than sorry, Ray." Ignoring whatever it was that Ray muttered in reply, Ben went back to the window. He put one leg over the sill, then glanced back in surprise. "Aren't you coming with me?"
"Doesn't look that way, does it?" Ray got up and went into the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he said, "It's cold outside. It's raining. At the moment I'm warm and dry, and I think the world's going to keep turning if I try to stay that way for one night."
Ben frowned just a little in consternation. "Well ... yes. Of course, you don't *have* to come with me."
"Great." Ray waved vaguely in Ben's direction without taking his head out of the refrigerator. "Be careful on the fire escape. Oh, and close the window behind you," he called. A rather polite slam was the only answer he received.
Carrying two slices of cold pizza, Ray went back to the couch. Sitting down, he waved one in front of the wolf's nose. "Okay, Dief. Maybe you can't hear, but I know you can smell ..." Dief's eyes popped open and he sat up promptly. "Uh-uh." Ray held the pizza at arm's length, well away from the paper. "You want it, you gotta move."
Without hesitating, Dief stood and hopped over Ray's legs , neatly snatched the pizza from his hand, and curled up at his side. Taking a bite from his own slice, Ray unfolded the comics section and said to himself, "It's all in how you ask."
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Ben eased the apartment door open and looked around. It was dark and quiet, and Dief was curled up on the newspapers again. At least Ray hadn't left; the Riv was right outside, and Ray's coat was still hanging over one of the kitchen chairs. As Ben's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw a still, motionless shape sprawled on the couch.
Moving quietly, Ben laid his sodden hat and coat on the kitchen table. His hat would have to be reblocked. He hated doing that. He sat down to pull off his shoes so he wouldn't track any more
mud on his floor. The water dripping off him was bad enough.
Dief opened his eyes and raised his head. He looked Ben up and down, then slowly got to his feet. Padding over to Ben's chair, the wolf sat at his feet, yawned, and looked up impassively.
"Don't give me that look, Diefenbaker," Ben muttered. "If you'd had the courtesy to come with me, I could have avoided --"
"Could have avoided what?" Ray sat up, blankets falling away from his bare chest. He examined Ben with wide-awake eyes. "You're wet," he said helpfully.
Ben glared at him. "Thank you, Ray, but I *had* noticed that. And it was nice of you to wait up for me."
Ray shrugged casually. "Hey, I finished the paper and there wasn't anything else to do. Ya know, you could really use a television. It'd give me something to do while you're out helping old ladies across streets --"
"Did it ever occur to you that I might have required your help?" Ben interrupted.
Ray thought for a second, then shook his head. "Nah, not in this weather. Any criminal with half a brain is inside. And you can handle the ones with *less* than half a brain."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Ben stood and looked down. "Oh dear ..." He was standing in the middle of a puddle of dirty water and his socks were soaked through.
Ray grinned as he threw back the blanket; he was wearing nothing but his boxers. "Just stay there, Benny. I know how much you hate wet floors." He went into the bathroom and came back with several towels. "Here." Giving Ben one of the towels, he started unbuttoning Ben's shirt.
"Thank you kindly, Ray ..." Ben's voice was muffled as he started rubbing his hair briskly.
"No problem. How'd you get so wet, anyway?" Ray eased the shirt off Ben's shoulders and dropped it on the floor. Yawning again, Dief shook himself and went back to his bed in the corner.
"Hmmm? Oh." Ben peeked from behind the towel sheepishly. "I don't think we need to discuss it. It was really nothing."
Ray nodded. "Uh-huh. A really wet nothing. Come on, Benny, give." He unbuttoned Ben's jeans and pushed them down. "Sit."
"Oh. All right." Ben seated himself so Ray could kneel and remove his socks. "Well, the noise I heard turned out to be -- could I have another towel, please?"
"No." Ray put the socks on the pile of sodden clothes. He got up and sat down next to Ben. "Come on, Benny, quit stalling. I wanna hear exactly what happened."
Ben took a deep breath. "It *could* very well have been something suspicious. You do realize that, Ray, don't you?"
"Fraser ..."
"Yes. It was a cat."
"A cat," Ray said patiently. "What, a cat with a fire hose? Or was it some kind of marvelous aquatic wonder cat, and you had to chase it into Lake Michigan?"
Ben shook his head. "Oh, no, no, nothing like that, it was just an ordinary cat that was digging through the garbage cans in the alley. It ran into the street when it saw me, so I followed it."
"You followed a stray cat into the street."
"It was wearing a collar, Ray. Most probably it was a runaway, somebody's pet. I *had* to try to catch it."
"Oh, of course." Ray settled himself more comfortably. "I should have seen that right away."
"Yes. Well, it ran into the street, as I said, so I followed it ... oh, I think it was ten blocks or so. It ran out into traffic at one point, and a car swerved to avoid hitting it and ran into a fire hydrant instead. I stopped to help, and, well ..." Ben shrugged helplessly. "There was no way to avoid getting wet."
"Obviously. So what happened to the cat?"
Ben sighed. "Oh, the cat decided to stay and watch. I gave it to one of the tow truck drivers and came back here."
Ray got up. "Okay, Benny." Extending his hand, he pulled Ben to his feet. "Let's call it a night, huh?"
"By all means." Ben put his hands on Ray's hips and slid one hand into the other's underwear.
Shivering, Ray pulled away. "No offense, but let's continue this *after* you get warmed up, okay? That's one place I'd rather not get frostbite."
"That's all right, Ray. I know a variety of methods to warm up frozen bits of flesh ..."
Katrina Bowen~~~~~kbowen@willowtree.com~~~~~buffy@jumpgate.net~~~~~
Take me back to that little town Where everyone's your neighbor, And the family ate dead chickens Every Sunday afternoon. "Cornhusker Refugee", Austin Lounge Lizards