Body     *CRYSTAL RAIN #6*	

  "MIRROR, MIRROR"   

  *By GILDA LILY*   

Pairing: Renny/Ray K. 

Category: Drama/Angst. 

Rating: PG-13. 

Warning: Stella the Bitch warning. I know that a lot of DS fans consider
Stella a Grade-A bitch, but I usually cut her some slack. When we're first
introduced to her, Ray K. is practically stalking her! And she is a woman
in a tough male-dominated profession.  

However, she has been less-than-nice! :) This is definitely one of the
those times.  

This series is set in a slightly alternate universe: Ray V. never left his
Benny to go undercover, and Ray K. was assigned to the 27th Precinct and
became involved with Renny. The Consulate is from Seasons 1 and 2. 

Disclaimer:Renny's cookin', Ray's lookin', but I don't own 'em, Alliance
does. Drat! 

Comments on-list and off-list are welcome. E-mail:
jeanniemarie@sprintmail.com. 

(c) May 1, 2000 (Merry Beltane!) 

 

*Renfield Turnbull headed for the 27th Precinct on a warm, spring day. The
breeze was gentle and a little cool, and was just right for him in his red
serge. He was feeling very happy today. 

Ray Kowalski was the reason for that happiness. Ray had come to the Museum
exhibit with him last weekend and had actually enjoyed it! Of course, it
didn't hurt that the exhibit had been filled with naked Greek statues.
Renny smiled to himself. 

He clutched the manila envelope in his hand as the wind grew stronger. The
papers were important information on a joint case that the Chicago PD and
the RCMP liaisons had worked on. Inspector Thatcher had impressed upon him
that he was to deliver the papers to either Detectives Kowalski or
Vecchio, or preferably Leftenaut Welsh. Renny had nodded and put on his
hat and gone out the door, freezing at Thatcher's yell. He had come back
in and sheepishly took the envelope from her hand, trying not to meet her
stony gaze, and had practically run out the door. 

Forgetting that minor lapse, he concentrated on enjoying the day and
looking forward to seeing Ray. He was going to see him tonight for their
date, but an extra visit couldn't hurt. 

The Precinct was noisy and crowded and he wondered not for the first time
how the two Rays stood it, but he made his way through the squadroom,
stepping aside for two patrolmen who ignored him, laughing and joking with
each other, and he nodded politely to Elaine at her desk. 

He was disappointed to see that Ray was not at his desk, nor Ray Vecchio.
He went over to Elaine and asked, "Ms. Besbriss, is Leftenaut Welsh in?" 

"Sorry, Turnbull, he's in Interrogation Room 3 right now." 

"And where is...?" 

"Ray and Ray are in there with him." Renny blushed at Elaine's reading of
his mind, and she smiled at him. "You can wait at Ray's desk if you like."


"Oh, thank you! I shall do that." 

Renny settled himself in front of his Ray's desk and patiently waited. He
was under orders to give the envelope to one of those three men, so he
knew that the Inspector would not be angry that he waited. 

As the clock ticked away, his stomach began to rumble. He wished that he
had brought something to eat with him. Perhaps he could take a quick trip
to the vending machine for a granola bar. Or a chocolate bar, as he was
not certain that the Precinct vending machines would have granola bars. 

He was still debating about what to do when the click of high heels
penetrated his consciousness. He straightened imperceptibly in his chair
as he always did when a lady approached. 

"So, Ray's newest piece of ass is draping himself over the chair." 

Renny turned his head in surprise to see Stella Kowalski standing beside
Ray's desk. Stunned, he didn't know what to say, his mouth hanging open.
She laughed and the sound was not pleasant. He shivered. 

Stella had one hand on her hip, her other hand resting on the desk. Her
extremely casual pose frightened Renny. Her violet eyes were mean. 

"How's it goin', Mountie? A little sore, are we?" At his blush she laughed
again. 

Renny was thankful that the noise of the squadroom prevented anyone from
hearing his lover's ex-wife. Ray did not want to be out and Renny agreed
that it could be dangerous for him, despite Ray Vecchio having no
problems. Renny simply thought it would do Ray's reputation no good to
have people know he was bedding dumb, klutzy Turnbull. 

She leaned in closer to him. He could smell her perfume. "Listen, I know
my ex, and he's a randy little sort. If he's not fucking some willing
woman, he'd be open to doing it with a man. I've seen the way he looks at
you when he thinks no one's watching. He's hot for you. Though why is
beyond me. Ray can be a pain in the ass, but he's beautiful to watch in
motion. Graceful, too. You look like some clumsy plowhorse next to him." 

Renny blinked. His throat hurt but he rasped, "Please, Ms. Kowalski, I
can't say anything about Detective Kowalski's personal life. I...I'm just
delivering some papers..." 

"Can it, Dudley." Stella's eyes grew hard. "He's just amusing himself with
you until he can find the next woman who catches his eye. I mean, look at
you. Don't get all hearts-and-flowers over my ex." She straightened up and
smiled sweetly. "And like I said, a man as light on his feet as Ray is not
going to stick around with some oaf like you. Have a nice day, Constable."


Stella sauntered away, Renny shaking in his serge. He carefully laid down
the envelope that now looked a little wrinkled after his deathgrip. He
took deep breaths, his face red and shamed. He nearly jumped out of his
chair when he heard a hurried voice say, "Hey, Ren's, what's up?" 

"Oh! Uh, hello, Detective Vecchio! I have some papers here for you.
Inspector Thatcher was most insistent that I give them to you or Ray or
Leftenaut Welsh." Renny stood and held out the envelope. 

"Okay, let's have 'em." Ray quickly flipped through the pages and then
jammed the envelope in his desk drawer, locking it with a tiny key.
"Thanks, Ren. Hey, say hi to Benny for me, willya?" 

"Yes, sir, I mean, Detective...I..." 

Ray smiled and fluttered an elegant hand. "Relax, Ren. No one's gonna
bite." He winked and leered. "Well, maybe Stanley will, " he said in a low
tone. 

Renny blushed and Ray laughed, winking at him and going back down the
hall. 

Renny sat back down again in the chair, his head whirling. Several minutes
later he realized that he had to get back to the Consulate! He nearly
tripped when he got up and stared miserably down at his boots. Big, oafish
feet! 

"Turnbull." 

He looked up quickly and found himself staring into Elaine's big, brown
eyes. 

"Y...yes, Ms. Besbriss?" 

"You okay?" 

Her sympathy...or was it pity?...nearly hurt. He swallowed and
straightened his shoulders. He was a Mountie! He could handle this! 

"I'm fine, thank you kindly. Thank you for asking." 

Elaine nodded, the sympathy still strong. Renny turned and walked out,
mechanically walking to the Consulate. He discharged his duties there, and
then walked home. 

Once he was in the apartment, he slowly went to this room. He opened the
closet and stared at the full-length mirror on the door. It was a recent
addition to his bedroom. Ray had brought it over. He hadn't dared to say
that he hadn't wanted a mirror. Not such a...revealing... one. 

He bit his lip as he looked at his image in the mirror and came to a
decision. He turned away and began unbuttoning his serge. It was draped
over the bed, then followed by the undershirt, boots, jodhpurs, socks and
briefs. He took a deep breath and turned back to face the mirror. 

He disliked mirrors. He usually squinted so that he couldn't see his
reflection too clearly. Now he forced his eyes to stay wide open. 

He started with his shoulders. That was a good place to start. His
shoulders were broad and not too bad. Of course, his skin was that
shrimp-pink that he disliked. It was not like Ray's healthy creaminess or
Benton Fraser's pure whiteness or Ray Vecchio's olive tint. 

His eyes traveled down his arms. All right, good biceps, maybe even
acceptable forearms. Except that they were too long. 

His hands. 

He blinked and flexed his fingers. Big. Clumsy. Awkward. 

His gaze went to his chest next. Broad, strong, but hairless. Absolutely
hairless! And not in the way that Ray's or Fraser's were. Theirs
looked...sexy. His just looked ridiculous. 

His stomach. At least that was flat. 

He skipped quickly over what came next. He couldn't look at that  part of
his anatomy just yet. 

His thighs were blocky. Why was he square or too big everywhere? His
calves...they were not like Ray's. Graceful and like a dancer's. His were
more like an elephant's in the circus. 

Freak. 

A shaking hand touched his thigh. He tried to see the graceful curves of
Fraser. He was bigger than the other Mountie. Bigger and without the style
and loveliness, though. 

It was worse further south. His feet were huge. Clumsy. He couldn't even
hold a candle to his graceful Ray. No, he, Renfield Turnbull, was always
stumbling, always tripping over his own big feet. 

Heart pounding, Renny dared to look further up. 

He felt slightly nauseated while his skin turned a shade of crimson. How
many times had he heard the snickers and whispers? He knew that size was a
big deal to the male species, but his gym classmates in high school had
made it quite clear: big wasn't better in his case. "Huge" and "monstrous"
were two words he recalled with painful clarity. 

It was a good thing that Ray never asked him to do the fucking in their
relationship. He'd tear his slender lover apart. 

Renny forced himself to turn around. Twisting his head, he managed to see
his back. Okay, at least not a total disaster, though that awful pink
color. 

His buttocks? He let out a sigh. Doughy, huge globes. Certainly not like
either Ray's delectable, hand-sized peaches. Or Fraser's
perfectly-proportioned cheeks. 

The back of his legs were no better than the front. Nearly to the point of
despair, he turned around again. 

The final hurdles. 

He studied his hair. It was straight and a sandy color. Not like Fraser's
thick, beautiful waves when he let it grow. Not like his own Ray's wild,
wonderful spikiness. Not even like Ray Vecchio's sleek, shorn look. Just
lank, dull hair which had been described in the past as "dirty blond" or
"dishwater blond". 

His eyes. 

Blue, but not the startling-blue of his Ray, nor the sapphire-blue of
Fraser's, or the breathtaking green of Ray Vecchio's. More like a pale,
watery blue. 

His face. 

Big, square, utterly without charm or beauty. Set upon a neck with none of
his Ray's graceful lines, or even those of Ray Vecchio's. 

He could feel his body trembling as he sank to the bed, covering his eyes.
His raspy breathing was the only sound in the room. 

Ms. Kowalski had been right. He was a plowhorse next to Ray's elegant
thoroughbred. How could he have been foolish enough to believe that he was
worthy of even tying his Ray's sneakers? Hot tears slipped down his
cheeks. 

What must Ray have thought, looking at all those perfect Greek statues
last weekend? Did he compare them to me and realize how clunky I look next
to them, or him? Chris would laugh sometimes at my awkwardness. He said I
was always three sizes too big for everything I did.  

The doorbell rang. He shot off the bed and thrust his big legs into jeans
and threw a T-shirt over his head. Ray was here. 

Renny pasted a smile on his face as he hurried to open the door.*