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A short story where nobody gets hurt, with the exception of some trampled toes!



TWO LEFT FEET

by Linda Hughes



"Good afternoon Ray," Fraser stood in front of his partner's desk, nervously turning his stetson around in his hands. He was dressed casually but neatly in pressed blue jeans, white shirt and brown leather jacket.

Ray looked up from the file he was working on and smiled warmly. "Afternoon Frase. Thought I was picking you from the Consulate later."

"It was such a nice day that Diefenbacker and I decided to walk here," Fraser replied.

"Oh OK. Park it," Ray indicated the seat in front of his desk. Diefenbacker had already slid under the desk, and was lying in his usual position across Ray's feet. Ray regarded his partner for a moment; he appeared more distracted than was usual for the Mountie. "What's up Frase. Anything I can do to help?" he offered.

"No. Well yes," Fraser stuttered flushing slightly.

"Well which one is it? Yes or no?" Ray grinned.

Fraser stared at his feet. "Well as you know next weekend, the Consulate is holding its annual summer ball. It's very important and there will be a lot of very influential people attending from both Canada and the United States," he looked up at his partner's face.

"Yer worried about the security arrangements, is that it? Well don't, I got it covered. I may be just a Chicago flatfoot, but I can handle simple security arrangements as good as a bunch of Mounties" Ray said angrily, glaring at his partner.

"Ray. Please calm down. Your arrangements are excellent and I have every confidence in you," Fraser said calmly.

"Ya have?" Ray sounded surprised.

"Yes of course Ray. But that's not the problem," Fraser blushed.

"It's not," Ray looked puzzled.



"I'm afraid I'm the problem," Fraser admitted embarrassed. Before Ray could interrupt, he continued. "Inspector Thatcher has ordered that I dance with some of the young ladies invited," he stared down at his boots again, nervously twiddling his stetson.

"Cool," Ray grinned. "Hey I wish Welsh would give me that kinda assignment."

"I can't," Fraser said.

"Whaddya mean you can't. The nice young ladies are gonna love ya. Handsome Mountie in a nice red uniform. Ya can't loose Frase," Ray cried.

"No Ray. I mean.... I mean I can't dance," Fraser admitted reluctantly.

"What. Let me get this straight, you can't dance a step," Ray asked leaning forward, his elbows resting on the desk.

"No," Fraser confessed sadly.

"You must be able to dance. It's just a matter of rhythm and balance. Look Frase. You can balance on them tennis racket thingys across miles of snow and ice, but yer telling me ya can't dance," Ray said incredulous.

"No. And they are snow shoes," Fraser scolded gently.

"Yeh, yeh. I can't believe that you can't dance. You super Mountie who can do anything can't dance," Ray sat back in his chair staring at Fraser. "Aint it part of Mountie training or something?"

"It never seemed necessary to learn. In the Northwest territories, we don't have much of an opportunity to waltz. And I must admit that rhythm was never one of my strong points," Fraser murmured.

"So what did you tell the Ice Queen?" Ray asked curious.

"Well I informed the Inspector of my predicament. But she was unsympathetic to my plight, and instructed me that I had a week in which to learn," Fraser answered gloomily.

"Huh. Well I suppose I wouldn't have expected anything else from her," Ray considered for a moment. He had never seen the Mountie look so sad or desperate. "Would you like me to teach you to dance? I could teach you to waltz. That's fairly easy, and you can waltz to most kinds of music," he offered.

A look of relief spread over the Mountie's face. "Would it be too much trouble?" Fraser asked, a hopeful look on his face.

"Nah, no problem," Ray stood up shrugging into his jacket. "Come on, pitter patter. No time like the present," he motioned Fraser to follow him. "We'll go back to my place, order pizza and then start with your first lesson."

"I have purchased a book on dance steps to assist me in the endeavour," Fraser hurried after his partner, Dief close at his heels.

****************





Once back at Ray's apartment with the pizza laid out on the table, Fraser produced his book on dance steps to read while Ray made them a hot drink. Returning to the living room, Ray set the mugs down on the table. He slumped into the armchair, selecting a large piece of pizza. Diefenbacker was lying on the floor close to Ray, and while Fraser was engrossed in his book, Ray slipped the wolf half of the slice of his pizza. The wolf gratefully bolted it down snuggling closer to Ray's feet. Fraser looked up from his book frowning at his friends.

"Ray," Fraser scolded. He sighed he didn't know which one of his friends looked more guilty.

Ray quickly decided to change the subject before Fraser got onto his usual lecture about proper diet. "So what does ya little book say?" Ray asked.

Fraser picked up a piece of pizza. "Well it seems quite simple really. According to the book, you place your hands in the mandatory positions on your partner. The music starts. You perform the obligatory steps to conduct your partner around the dance floor. When the music stops, you stop," he said pleased.

Ray nodded slowly. "Ya place yer hands in the mandarin position."

"Mandatory Ray," Fraser corrected.

Ray continued to nod. "Right. The music starts. You perform oblong steps."

"Obligatory," Fraser amended.

"The music stops, you stop," Ray nodded his head once more, a smile tugging at his mouth.

"Yes."

"And in the mean time yer partner has run off into the night screaming," Ray laughed.

"Pardon me," Fraser said in an affronted tone.

"Fraser. Ya sound like yer describing a self defence movement. What about rhythm, mood, balance?" he asked looking at his friend, who stared back with a look of total confusion on his face. "And passion," Ray added with a wicked gleam in his blue eyes.

Fraser coughed nervously and started to flick through the pages of the book. "It doesn't appear to mention that in here Ray," he stammered.

Ray leant forward quickly snatching the book away from his friend. "Lesson number one. The book goes," he tossed it towards the waste bin.

"But....," Fraser started to protest.

"Do you want to learn to dance or not?" Ray asked. "If ya do. We do it my way, or not at all."

"Well the book may be useful," Fraser persisted.



"Fraser," Ray warned.

Fraser sighed heavily in defeat. "Very well. The book goes. We do it your way."

"Thank you. Good. Right now onto lesson number two," Ray announced.

"What's lesson number two Ray?" Fraser asked eagerly.

"Eat yer pizza," Ray grinned taking another piece of pizza defiantly sharing it with Dief.

"Understood."

***************

After Ray had cleared away the leftover pizza and mugs, Fraser helped him to move the furniture back, giving them enough space to move around. Dief leaped onto the couch, his head on his paws.

"Shall we use your feet?" Fraser asked.

"My feet," Ray looked bewildered.

"These," Fraser indicated the white footsteps hidden under the carpet.

"Nah. They're fer practising alone," Ray replied shrugging. "We'll do it a different way. You might find it easier. Right now over here, and stand in front of me. I'll lead first to show ya the steps. Then it'll be your turn to lead. OK?" he said.

"Ray. Don't we need music?" Fraser asked puzzled.

Ray placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head to one side. "Who's the teacher here? You or me?" Ray asked, an exasperated look on his face.

"You," Fraser admitted quickly moving across the room to stand in front of his partner.

"Right. You put your hands here and here," Ray positioned Fraser's hands. "And I put mine, here and here. On the count of three, you follow whatever I do. OK?"

"Understood," Fraser said tightening his grip slightly.

"Frase. If you do that to the nice young ladies, yer going get a slap," Ray giggled. "Yer not arresting them, yer dancing with em."

"I am dreadfully sorry. I'm just a bit nervous," Fraser blushed loosening his grip.

"Right that's better. Now here we go. One, two, three, turn. One, two, three, turn," Ray chanted as he swung Fraser around his small living room. "Ouch," he cried as Fraser trod heavily on his right foot.

Fraser immediately stopped, releasing his partner. "I'm so sorry Ray," Fraser said guiltily.



"It's OK. I got another one," Ray grinned. "Now come on. Back to the start." He grabbed hold of the Mountie again. "Do what my feet do," he instructed as he started to dance Fraser around the room. "One, two, three, turn." Fraser stumbled around clutching at his partner's waist. After a few minutes, Ray brought them to a standstill. "Frase. Whaddya staring at my feet fer," he asked exasperated.

"I am doing what you instructed me to do. I am watching your feet so I know what to do when it is my turn to lead," Fraser explained. "I thought it would be easier if I looked downwards.

"Frase. Don't watch my feet, I meant feel what my feet are doing. God Frase if yer spend ya time looking at the ladies feet, yer going get yourself arrested."

"Right. We start again and this time no looking at my feet," he took his partner's hands again. He attempted to lead Fraser around the living room. He glanced towards Dief, who appeared to be smiling. He stopped again, releasing his friend, and putting his hands on his hips.

"Did I step on your foot again Ray?" Fraser asked concerned.

"Nah. Frase no offence intended. But you dance like a block of wood. Dancing is about feeling and movement," he said.

Ray was taken by surprise when Fraser slumped onto the couch, his head in his hands. "It's no good. I'll never learn in a week. And Inspector Thatcher will be furious." He looked up at his partner. "Thank you kindly for trying Ray," he muttered wretchedly.

Ray sat down by his friend. "Hey Frase. It's not all bad."

"It isn't," Fraser didn't sound convinced.

"No. Look on the plus side, we have you with yer nice manners and the cool uniform that represents the Queen. All those nice well to do ladies are just gonna love that," Ray assured his friend.

"They are?" Fraser said.

"Yeh. But on the negative side, we have yer two left feet and lack of rhythm," Ray admitted reluctantly.

"Oh," Fraser said dejectedly.

"But hey, this Chicago flatfoot loves a challenge. And I aint ready to throw in the towel just yet," he encouraged.

"You're not," Fraser brightened a little.

"Nah," Ray stood up moving towards his CD player.

Fraser stood up. "Even though I could seriously damage your feet?"

"I'll risk it Frase," Ray offered as he selected five CDs from his rack carefully placing them in the player. Hitting the random button, he returned to the centre of the living room. "This time, we'll try it with music. Ya lead this time. And remember yer not wrestling musk ox."



Fraser carefully positioned his hands, and began to move Ray around the room. "One, two, three, turn," he quietly recited to himself. He twirled his partner around the room, stumbling slightly over Ray's feet and accidentally stamping on them on numerous occasions. Ray winced, but bravely danced on. Fraser grew more confident as the music played gently in the background. Over-confidence, however, was his undoing; he swung his partner round so enthusiastically that he let go, and Ray ended up in a heap on the floor.

"Oh my. I didn't mean to do that. I just got a bit.... a bit carried away," Fraser blushed offering his partner a hand up.

"Well yer dance card is going to be pretty empty if ya do that to all the ladies," Ray smiled as he let his partner haul him to his feet. "Now come on, let's try it once more."

**************

Ray arrived at the Consulate early on Saturday evening. He quickly checked on the security arrangements, and then went in search of his partner. He found Fraser and Turnbull sitting in the kitchen, resplendent in red dress uniforms.

"Welcome to Canada Detective Vecchio," Turnbull greeted him. "Could I get you a cup of herb tea?"

"Yeh thanks," Ray answered as he sat down at the table. "All ready for yer big night Frase?" he teased.

Fraser fiddled nervously with his collar. "Yes Ray. Thank you kindly. The guests should be arriving in approximately half an hour."

"This is so exciting," Turnbull said placing a cup of tea in front of Ray. "Did you know that Inspector Thatcher has ordered that Constable Fraser and I dance with the young ladies this evening? I just love to dance," he enthused.

"Yes I did. I'm sure you will both do just fine," Ray smiled at his partner, who was blushing as red as his uniform.

"Let's just do one last check of Ray's excellent arrangements before the guests arrive," Fraser announced standing up heading for the door. Turnbull collected the cups placing them in the sink.

Ray followed closely behind Fraser. "Good luck Frase. And don't be nervous. Remember everything I taught ya, and you'll be fine," he whispered.

***************

Ray stood quietly in the corner of the ballroom watching the guests dance to a variety of soft music provided by a small eight piece orchestra. His gaze drifted from the dancers to the room; he had never seen this part of the Consulate before, and marvelled at the fine wooden panels lining the walls with crystal chandeliers hanging from a high ceiling. French windows opened up into the Consulate garden, a balmy breeze moving the curtains gently. His attention turned back to the music; he loved the music and yearned to dance, but kept reminding himself that he was on duty.



He noticed that Inspector Thatcher was moving around the room, talking to each group of guests. She was wearing a long jade green dress with high splits up each side, which revealed her slender legs as she moved. She had scowled at him on several occasions, but he had just grinned back. He turned his attention back to watching Fraser, who was dancing with the daughter of the Canadian Ambassador. He smiled to himself; Fraser had learned quickly and was doing an adequate job of guiding his partner around the dance floor without trampling on her feet. Ray winced to himself; his feet still bore the bruises of Fraser's attempts at dancing. The music stopped, and Fraser bowed to his partner moving quickly towards Ray.

"Hey, not bad for a beginner and a Mountie," Ray teased as Fraser joined him.

Fraser beamed. "Thank you kindly Ray. Are you not dancing?" he asked.

"Nah. My feet kinda hurt. Must have been trampled by something," Ray said with a straight face.

"Oh my," Fraser was immediately concerned.

"Frase. I'm teasing ya. I'm on duty remember. Can't be seen by the Ice Queen dancing," he answered, but Fraser noted a wistful expression cross his partner's face. He also hadn't fail to notice that his friend's foot had been tapping in time to the music.

Inspector Thatcher moved over to join the two partners. She nodded to Ray. "I'm impressed Constable. I thought you said you couldn't dance."

"Thank you Inspector. I had an excellent teacher," he nodded towards Ray, who uncharacteristically blushed at the attention.

"Him," the Inspector cried incredulously.

"Yes Inspector. Ray is an excellent dancer and teacher," Fraser persisted.

"Ya know all done in the spirit of cementing American-Canadian relationships," Ray grinned.

"I don't believe it," she said looking Ray up and down. She had to admit that this usually scruffy American looked very handsome in his dark tuxedo, neatly pressed shirt with a blue bow-tie that matched his sparkling blue eyes. His usually wild hair was neatly groomed, and he was clean shaven.

Fraser caught the mischievous glint in his partner's blue eyes. "So ya don't believe I can dance Inspector," Ray challenged as he stepped forward grabbing the Inspector around the waist guiding her towards the dance floor before she could utter a protest. Ray winked at Fraser over his shoulder. "So Inspector, do ya polka?" he whispered as the music started.

"Oh dear," Fraser thought to himself as he watched his partner begin to dance the Inspector around the room.

Ray used every bit of the dance floor as he and the Inspector glided gracefully around to the soft strains of 'Shall We Dance' from the King and I. As they twirled and spun around, the other dancers stepped aside to watch, until the Inspector and his partner were the only couple dancing.

Fraser noted that the Inspector had begun to smile and actually seemed to be enjoying herself. His partner winked at him as he sailed past expertly leading the Inspector, who matched his every movement, her long dress swirling around her legs as she danced. The music stopped, and Ray brought the Inspector to a smooth stop kissing her hand lightly. The other guests exploded into rapturous applause, and Fraser could see that the Inspector was blushing as Ray lead her off the dance floor back towards him.

"Told ya I could dance Inspector," Ray teased releasing her hand.

Inspector Thatcher looked breathless but faintly pleased. "Well yes alright Detective. I believe that you can dance. I am sorry that I doubted you. Thank you."

Ray used his most disarming smile. "I enjoyed it Inspector," he bowed slightly. The Inspector blushed, coughed and excused herself moving quickly towards the Canadian Ambassador and his wife, glancing a couple of times over her shoulder at the partners.

Ray continued to grin wildly. "That was very mischievous of you Ray," Fraser scolded his partner lightly.

"Yeh. I just couldn't resist it. She accused me of not being able to dance. I may not do many things right, but dancing well that's something else," he answered still grinning.

"Ray," Fraser said.

"Mmmm Frase," Ray answered.

"Now that I have mastered the waltz, can you teach me the polka?" Fraser asked.

Ray turned to his partner grinning. "Not sure my feet can stand it," he teased.

"Understood."



THE END