Vicarious	   Vicarious

 by silvina

  

 

 Disclaimer: Standard Disclaimer. Anybody who says they're mine is lying.
Please send comments, questions, compliments, and otters to
sdelcul@yahoo.com.

 Author's Notes: 

 Story Notes: 

 

 

 Absently he put down the phone. Shit. Damn. It wasn't like he had a
choice here. Ray Vecchio had been summoned to the Zuko house, and while
Zuko and Vecchio had a long, volatile history, this Ray Vecchio wasn't
even Italian. Among the issues that had come up and been planned for, this
particular circumstance had never occurred to anyone. 

 Fraser insisted on going with him, which to be honest he hadn't even
argued against, and not just because he knew Fraser wouldn't change his
mind. He'd heard the stories about what had happened between Zuko,
Vecchio, Fraser, and Zuko's sister, and if their uneasy truce was over, he
certainly wanted nothing to do with it. He wasn't feeling that brave
today. 

 He admired the Zuko house as they walked towards the front door, knowing
that they were being monitered from the moment they got out of the car. A
large man frisked them at the door. Fraser was unarmed as usual, but Ray
was quite politely asked to leave his gun. He did so hesistatingly. 

 When they entered Zuko's office, they were both extremely surprised.
Waiting inside for them were four men: Zuko, two men who were obviously
bodyguards of the fourth man, Ray Vecchio. 

 "Detective Vecchio?" he was asked. 

 Angry at whatever game the man was playing and still half nervous he
growled back, "yeah?" 

 "Funny, you don't look Italian." 

 Maybe this was one of those hidden camara shows. He ran through several
snarky replies but after catching Fraser out of the corner of his eye he
calmed. "Funny, isn't it. What can I do for you, Mr.? 

 "Langoustini." He nodded at one of the first bodyguards. "Carlo." 

 "Yeah, boss?" 

 "I'd like to speak with our guests alone. Please wait outside." 

 "Yes, sir." 

 The second they were gone, Zuko stopped smiling. "We're even now,
Vecchio. Come on, Detective." 

 He stepped into a side room with Zuko, trying to relax. Whatever this
was, it looked like Vecchio had instigated it. Once again he wondered what
the relationship was between Vecchio and Fraser. From the rumors he'd
assumed they were lovers, but Fraser rarely mentioned Vecchio. He'd
considered asking Francesca, but the way she chased after Fraser herself,
she wouldn't believe it even if she walked in on them in the middle of
doing the wild thing on the dining room table. And dear god, he would need
bleach to get rid of that particular image. 

 He realized Zuko was watching him with a smirk. "What?" 

 "You're thinking about it, aren't you?" 

 "Of what?" 

 "Them. What they might might be up to in there." 

 "Then they're-?" 

 Zuko shrugged. "Who knows." 

 Uncomfortable discussing something so intimate about his best friend with
a man he barely knew, he changed the topic. "So why you? Why do this for
them?" 

 "Let's just say I don't like owing people, Kowalski." 

 "How do you know my name?" 

 "Well, you're obviously not Ray Vecchio." 

 "Yeah, but-" 

 "Please, detective. I didn't get to where I am without having some
sources. You haven't exactly been low profile. Your ex-wife is a beautiful
woman, Stanley. Why exactly did you split up?" 

 He wasn't sure whether it was the mention of Stella, the insinuation of
his sexuality, or simply being called Stanley that set him off, but he
reached for his gun, only belatedly realizing that he'd been forced to
leave it at the door. He settled for crowding Zuko against a convinient
wall. "If you're threatening her-" 

 "What? You'll kill me? In my own house. What a finely tuned response to
the situation. No, Detective, I'm not threatening anybody. Just curious." 

 "What could my ex-wife possibly matter to you?" 

 "If you're interested in Big Red-" 

 "I'm not. We're not. I'm not a fa- he's my friend." He took a deep
breath. "What about you? Got a thing for Vecchio?" 

 Something flashed in Zuko's eyes, but he just laughed. "Funny man." 

 The door opened behind them and Fraser and Vecchio walked in. Kowalski
searched for evidence of what they'd discussed, what they might have done,
but he couldn't find anything. No lingering looks or touches, no rumpled
clothes or tousled hair - without looking back he knew that Zuko too was
trying to figure it out. 

 "Ray?" 

 Fraser's voice startled him and he realized Vecchio was holding out his
hand. They shook, and Vecchio patted him on the shoulder. "Look after him,
won't you? He gets into the most terrible trouble." 

 At the door his gun was returned. As they drove off he was still debating
internally: were they or weren't they. The easiest thing to do, of course,
would be to ask Fraser directly, but he knew he wouldn't. He just
couldn't. 

End Vicarious by silvina: sdelcul@yahoo.com.

Author and story notes above.