***********************
Small Foil
Packets
M.
Hands shaking, palms moist, Fraser struggled with the small foil packet. Crowded close behind him, Turnbull murmured, "Hurry, sir. Timing is essential in these matters."
Flustered and annoyed, Fraser snapped, "I know that, Constable. Give me just a moment."
Hurt by the harsh tone, Turnbull stepped back, eyes round in surprise. Immediately contrite, Fraser's apology was lost in a cry of triumph. The small container gaped open. In the rush to put the contents to use, all other thoughts were temporarily shunted aside.
Safely past the crisis, Fraser remembered his manners. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Turnbull."
"Not at all," was the bland reply. "The Inspector must have her tea on time, after all."
* * * * *
"Benton, help with this, will you?" Francesca smiled winningly and handed him the small foil packet. Remembering his lesson from earlier, Fraser wiped his hands before accepting the proffered pouch. Francesca saw this small nervous action and felt compelled to leer seductively. "It's that time, y'know?"
Fraser blushed, cleared his throat and cracked his neck, never once releasing his grip on the slick foil. Cautiously opening the blade-bright compartment, he gently extracted the contents. "That does it," he said, wishing fervently that he were anywhere else.
Francesca cupped her hands and held them out as if to receive Holy Communion. "Thanks, Fraser. I always end up spilling seeds everywhere."
Wisely, Fraser ignored the husky-voiced attempt at double entendre and merely suggested that the most opportune environment for potted flowers was out of direct sunlight.
* * * * *
Ray Vecchio's voice exploded into the dark green vehicle. "Benny, there's one in the glove compartment. Hurry up! Geez, c'mon, c'mon, I'll mess my suit. Hurry UP!"
Fraser fumbled at the catch of the glovebox and wondered why some days seemed to have a theme. Today's topic: foil packets. He groped through the tangle of maps and batteries to find yet another metallic sheathing. Ray moaned continuously, almost wordlessly, through the entire procedure.
Gently, Fraser mined the depths of the third small foil packet he'd encountered, and handed the result to Ray. Ray's moans changed to whimpers, then sighs.
With Ray content once more, Fraser said lightly,
"It might be expedient to keep a canister of pop-up towelettes in the
car for just such occasions. The individual packets tend to get
lost."