FINESS Rating: PG Category: Challenge, Humor Disclaimer: Of course they don't belong to me, they belong to Alliance... but I'll put 'em back when I'm finished . . . probably . . . heh! Notes: This is for the challenge Aph extended: Write a story with 101 positions in 20 minutes. Bonus points for figuring out where I got the name Hildy Johnson! We Always Get Our Man Debbie Hann, March 15, 2000 ~*~*~*~*~*~ "Fraze, I don't think we can do it," the Ray who wasn't really Ray Vecchio moaned. "Of course we can, Ray." Supreme confidence radiated off the Mountie. Ray looked up at him, "I'm really beat, buddy. I just don't think I have it in me." "You don't have to have it just in you, Ray; I'm right here with you. I'll be helping." "Damned right you'll be helping! This was your idea after all, Fraze. But it's impossible to do in 20 minutes." "It isn't impossible, Ray," Fraser said, shifting slightly and smiling engagingly at his partner. "All it takes is a little finesse. Besides, we only have one more left." "Finesse, huh?" Sighing, Ray reached towards his partner and held out his hands for the phone book the Mountie was holding. "Fine, we'll look, but I don't see what good it's gonna do; we've only got twenty minutes before the statute runs out on this sleezoid." "You're correct, Ray, but standing here debating the point isn't going to get the job done either." Fighting the urge to stick his tongue out at the Mountie man, he was tired Ray thumbed his way through the thick phone book, looking for the section he needed. "The snitch couldn'ta brought us this info last week or last night even. Nooooo, he's gotta wait until the backside of the tail end of the time limit." Leaning over his partner's shoulder, Fraser didn't answer Ray's grumbles as he looked at the page, scanning the column of names. "We're in luck, Ray, there are only 101 people by the name of Position in this part of the city. Of those, only five have a first name beginning with 'H,' and of those only one is named Horatio Algernon Position." Ray shook his head, his fatigue burning away again under the urgency, "God," he muttered, "finally a name worse than 'Stanley.' Reaching across the table, he pulled the phone towards him by the cord and punched the number in as quickly as he could. "His address shows him living less than five minutes from here, Ray." "Yeah, great, but now we gotta see if he's home." Drawing a breath, he looked down at the table and began fidgeting with an abandoned pencil that was missing most of its eraser. Pitching his voice higher, Ray spoke into the phone, "Yeah, hi, this is Hildy Johnson, may I please speak to Mr. Horatio Position? Oh, that's you? Well, good afternoon, sir, I'd like to tell you about the special we're having on desiccated meats this weekyes, Sir, thank you--. The loud click of a phone being slammed in Ray's ear just made him smile. "Don't think he's a fan of pemmican either, Fraze." "Ah. Well, his loss," Fraser replied as he grabbed his hat and strode quickly after the blond cop. "I can't believe we not only got a line of this yahoo, but that he's home." Ray shook his head as the GTO roared to life. "It really is quite remarkable," Fraser replied, righting himself after Ray sped rather enthusiastically out of the parking lot. "Well, yeah, but then you know that saying about the Chicago P.D." "To serve and protect the citizens of Chicago?" Fraser supplied, hanging on to his Stetson and the arrest warrant so they didn't slide off the dash and out the window. "Nope," Ray shot back, enjoying the speed of the car and the prospect of getting to arrest a guy everyone'd been after for seven years. "'We always get our man.'" "Fascinating, Ray." Ray's grin grew wider, "Ooh, Mr. Spock Mountie." Fraser raised an eyebrow. "My ears are not pointy, Ray." "Had 'em checked recently, Fraze? They could be growing." "I hardly think that's likely, Ray," Fraser said as they pulled up in front of a rather dilapidated house. Through the window, they could see a man matching the description they'd been given slouched in front of the TV. Ray's grin became even more maniacal. "Looks like we found our official Position." "Oh, Ray."   Copyright Deborah Hann, March 2000