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Benny & Ray 127 Dewey Dee Gilles Rated PG-13

5 a.m. I sat in the canteen gulping shitty machine-dispensed coffee. The coffee tasted a little rusty. God only knows when the water lines had last been cleaned out. Probably 1962. Still, it was better than nothing; at least it was hot, and it had plenty of caffeine. The Duck and I had been out on a stakeout all night, trying to bust a car-theft ring. We'd been working on it for almost three months, and hadn't been able to get to the ring leaders, or the chop shops yet. These guys were pretty slick. I despised stakeouts, but the Lieu was putting the pressure on us to crack the case, so we had to dig in and get it done. The Duck went straight home to bed, but I wasn't ready to turn in.

I was pretty wired, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep for a few hours, so I figured I'd come back in and catch up on some paperwork. If I waited long enough, maybe I'd catch the Lieu, talk to him about a few things, chew the fat for a while. The Lieu had announced a couple of weeks ago that he planned to retire next year. He and his brother had plans to buy a place in the mountains of Tennessee, a little cabin along a river, but not too far out of town. His brother was going to need to work down there for a few more years, and the Lieu said he might, too. I know they had a ton of debt from their father's nursing home stuff to settle, before they were free and clear. And the CPD pensions weren't what they used to be. Even so, I envied them. As rough as this place was, and the trade getting rougher and rougher every day, it must be nice to lay the load down once and for all, and just get the hell out of Dodge.

Things sure were changing fast around here. The captain on her way out this week. Welsh on his way out next year. Nothing ever stayed the same for long. I wished they would.

I finished my coffee, stood, and fished through my pockets for more change. I went for another coffee. As I hit the button, I heard footsteps behind me. "What's up, Fraser?" I asked without even turning around. I had long since learned everybody by the sound of their footfalls. Everybody had a different gait, a different rhythm. Some treaded lightly and others heavily. Fraser's were as light as an Indian's, but I could still hear him.

"Good morning, Thomas," Fraser said as I grabbed my coffee from the dispenser.

I turned. Of course, Fraser looked perfect, even at five in the morning. Not a hair out of place. He looked fresh-faced and bright-eyed. He wore an expensive-looking gray suit with a cobalt blue tie. The man looked like he walked right off the pages of GQ.

"What are you doing here so early?" I said as I plopped down in the hard plastic chair.

"Well, Ray's taking Carie and me out to the buffet for dinner, so I have to leave promptly at 5," he said proudly. "He's picking me up." He beamed. Fraser grabbed a cup and dispensed some hot water as he spoke. He got himself a teabag and one Equal, along with a plastic stirrer.

Good for him. He and Vecchio had gone through a long rough patch this summer. He had been really depressed. We had all been worried about him. But since Fraser was back with Vecchio, he had just been, `glowing', I guess would be the word. I couldn't help but smile back at the guy.

We stood next to one another over the counter and prepared our beverages in comfortable silence.

Last weekend, a bunch of us had gotten together at Scarpetti's to celebrate Vecchio's birthday. It was me, Micky Doyle, Elaine, Welsh, and Jack Huey. I didn't know Vecchio that well, really, to be asked out for his birthday, but Fraser asked me along, so of course I said yes. I mean, it wasn't everyday that Ben Fraser invited you out socially, so it was a big deal.

Plus, it didn't help that Elaine was there, either. Anytime I can see her outside of the station...well...wow.

It was a trip seeing Fraser and Vecchio together. I was sitting cater-cornered from Fraser, and I was at the right angle to see them holding hands underneath the table. I couldn't help but notice how much thicker, wider, Fraser's hands were than Vecchio's. Their interlaced fingers were so different. Vecchio's piano hands were so much darker, bonier, than Fraser's mitts. I don't know how he managed to stay so pale in the summer.

Ben seated himself across from me, and took a sip of his tea. It smelled good.

I eyed him. "Nice suit. Where'd you get it?"

"Ray bought it for me. I'm not sure where he purchased it."

"He's got good taste."

"He buys all my clothes."

It seemed like such an intimate thing to say that I nodded and changed the subject. "Hey, thanks for the hand with the Mills case the other day. We're about ready to close on it."

"Glad I could be of assistance."

"You working Friday, right?"

"Oh, yes."

"Good, `cuz we thought we'd take the captain over to Dugan's for a few shots, see her off. You gonna come?"

"Oh...Ray and I had plans, actually."

"Why don't you invite him along? He used to work with the Captain, right?"

Ben took a sip of his tea. "Well...yes, but I'm afraid she never cared much for Ray. I believe she may have tried to have him fired more than once in the past."

"Oh...I see." Was there anybody Vecchio hadn't pissed off in his career? He was a real hot shit, I can tell you that. Personally, I always respected the guy. I mean, he was a hell of a detective when he was here, but I guess he rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. Whatever.

"Margarita's baking a cake for her, too, and Elaine's going to stop at Filene's and get her a gift card. Wanna chip in with us? Everybody's putting in a twenty-spot, alright?"

"Certainly," he murmured. He shifted and reached into his pocket for his money clip. Pulled two tens off and replaced it.

I accepted it with thanks. "Did you hear we finally got a replacement for her?"

The morning duty sergeant walked in, and grumbled, "Morning" to us. His eyes looked bloodshot. He went straight for the coffee. No small talk.

I lowered my voice and watched the door. I didn't like for people to think I gossiped. "Well, I heard the guy's a real asshole. A hard-nosed son of a bitch," I said sotto voce.

"Oh?"

"Name's uh...." It just slipped off my tongue. I closed my eyes, and snapped my fingers to remember. "Daniel. Daniel something. Uh..." I snapped my fingers again. It came to me. "Briggs! Yeah, that's it. Briggs."

Fraser blanched, his eyes going wide. "Daniel Briggs?"

"Yeah. What? You know him?"

"Oh...oh. Oh, dear," Fraser said.

FINIS