Sweet Surrender
by Adia
Stanley Raymond Kowalski sat with his feet perched upon the
desk top. Francesca Vecchio was making her way through the
station, high heels, skinny shoulders, bare midriff and all.
She rounded the corner to find the spiky blond hared detective
sitting
in her swivel chair watching the screen saver decorate
her computer
screen. He suddenly took notice of her and jumped
up out of her chair,
"Hey, Frannie, glad yer here." He was
speaking so fast
again she could hardly understand him. She
gritted her teeth. His non-stop sugar-highish super-energy was
wearing
really thin. It was too early in the morning for this.
She lost every
thread of patients and snapped at him, "What
do you want Ray?"
She looked over at him just in time to see
his eyebrows dance. Winking
them up and down wearing a suggestive
half smile. Francesca rolled
her eyes and shook her head.
He spoke in a slow soft tone that made her skin hot, "You know
what I want." He looked her straight in the eye and his smile
grew more wicked.
Frannie flung the back of her hand at him and managed to lightly
slap his leather sleeved shoulder, "Stop it!" her pale cheeks
flushed
a bright pink, "You're gonna blow Ray's cover! If you
keep acting
like that, no one's ever gonna believe we're brother
and sister." She
sounded annoyed.
He was mid word in saying, "So?" when a red-clad Mountie turned
the
corner, "Ah Ray, I was looking for you." The Mountie
stopped
and took his index finger and pointed it to the side of his
forehead, "I was wondering if you recall a certain, Mr.
Cahill?" Stanley was staring at Francesca. Fraser impatiently
sought Stan's attention, "Ray... Ray!... RAY!" Stanley shook
his head quickly as if to shake the thoughts occupying his brain
right off.
He soon picked up on the conversation and was once
again mid sentence, "Yeah, Fraser what about h-."
Francesca slipped in between them and pressed herself close to the
Mountie,
"Hi Frase." She tossed her head back ever so slightly making
her brown hair bounce, "How'd you sleep last night?" She coyly
placed her index finger upon his chest and drew an invisible
heart on his red serge.
Fraser who looked hardly even phased by this attractive woman throwing
herself at him spoke calmly, "Just fine, Francesca, I find sleeping
on
the
floor very refreshing." She looked puzzled. Stan stepped to the
side and
nodded to Fraser to follow him to another part of the station.
Fraser picked up on the cue.
Francesca looked at him confused, "Refreshing?"
He turned around and covered his heart with his
Stetson, "Oh, yes, you should try it sometime." He nodded several
quick nods then turned on his heels and continued on his way.
Francesca
exhaled and flopped down in her chair. She picked
up an emery board and brushed away at her nails. How could this
be
happening? If Kowalski didn't shape up and start hiding things
better
she didn't know what she was going to do. Things had
been so much easier before. When she flirted with Fraser because
she wanted to, not just to make everything look normal like it
had
been only weeks ago. Her silent contemplation as abruptly
interrupted
by her name being roared out, "Francesca!" Uh-oh.
She quickly
shoved the emery board into the sliding desk drawer
where she kept
various other cosmetics and useless things like
pencils and paper
clips. She wasn't watching too carefully and
in a rush to appease
the angry sounding voice she accidentally
slammed her finger in the
desk drawer with a crunch. A sharp
high pitched yelp left her lips and her wounded finger immediately
flew to her mouth trying to ease the pain of her bruised finger.
"Yes sir?" she composed herself and asked weakly.
Lieutenant Welsh passed by her in a rush, "I want the file on that
clown
Cahill.
Pronto!" He had only paused as her passed her desk heading down
the hall and into one of the interrogation rooms. Frannie's
shoulders slumped and she set off tiredly to fetch the file.
She passed by Huey and Dewey who were practicing their
one-liners. Sometimes working here just wasn't worth it.
She brought the file over to the interrogation room finding the
bounce
in her step once again. Remembering to knock on the door
as the Lieutenant
had always been pounding into her brain. She
quickly used her knuckles
to tap on the door twice before
entering. In the room stood Kowalski, Fraser and Welsh all
surrounding the suspect. Kowalski looked especially antsy and
Fraser
was looking as collected as ever. Behind her Huey and
Dewey followed in, "Yes Sir?" Dewey asked the Lieutenant.
Untill Welsh turned to them Frannie hadn't noticed the man in a suit
standing in the corner. "This is agent Spender from the FBI."
The man moved forward into the room and looked Fraser up and
down very questionably, "What's a Mountie doing here?" Fraser
stood
up even straighter and Kowalski rolled his eyes knowing exactly
what was coming.
Fraser had started in that well known tone
as he motioned his hand in a rolling way as if to say, "Well,
sir," which he did say to start the sentence, "I first came
to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father and..."
As his words drifted on Francesca slapped the file down on the
table
and headed out of the room. How many times could she hear
that? She
used to think she could have listened to that forever.
But that was
before.
She was only seconds outside of the door when Kowalski slyly
slipped out of the interrogation room. In one fell swoop Stanley
managed to snatch Frannie by the arm and yank open the door
to the observation room. He pulled her into the dark vacant
space and closed the door firmly behind him. As she was being
pulled
in she almost screamed shocked, "What the he-" Before
she
could finish the words her mouth was silenced by his full
lips covering
hers.
Frannie was a little surprised, but thoroughly enjoying it.
Stan showered kisses on her lips, quick soft kisses. Kisses
that she knew well, kisses that worked their way through her.
One's
that she knew would deepen given the moments opportunity.
But this
was at work. He hadn't done this since, well, since
two months ago when they had run into eachother after hours
in the station. Alone. Just the two of them...
*******************************
Francesca had been kind enough to invite him back to her mother's
house for dinner. Her mother truly adored him and felt like
the skinny boy could always use a good meal. Frannie hadn't been
terribly fond of Stanley in the first place, she was so blind
that
she had programmed herself so that her eyes only saw Fraser.
However,
things had changed in her life and for one small tiny
fraction of
a second, she opened her eyes. Stan just happened
to be standing
right in front of her that night. It was late
and he offered her a ride home since he was going there for
dinner anyway. A friend had dropped her off at work in the
morning. She was in need of transportation home so she figured,
"Why
not?" which lead to the both of them in the station after
hours
with the lights out. Even Welsh had gone home. Scattered
lights were
on in other parts of the station due to other city
cops, but for
the most part they were alone as Frannie searched
through her desk
for her house keys.
Before Stanley even knew it he was watching the way her skirt
shifted
when she leaned across her desk, the way her hair
glittered with goldish highlights, the way she spoke softly
when they were alone. Suddenly it occurred to him that he really
wasn't as irritated by Frannie as he once thought. No, it wasn't
that he didn't like her, it was that he did like her. And
it was confusing the hell out of him.
It had only been two weeks since Stella had been dating a local
Alderman
and through a wild twist of events Stan and Stella
had ended up at her place with his heart poured into her soul.
Once
again. He had said those words that seemed so easy to say
with her.
As easy as breathing, "Stella, I love you." At one
time
those words had been all that sustained him. His love for
her. Despite
her lack of love for him. But he couldn't see
it, and never did. He knew it wasn't the brightest thing to
try to get back with his ex-wife, but he felt like he had nothing
left. In fact, this had been the first time in his entire life
where
he had felt completely alone. He had never felt lonely,
but now he
felt nothing else. Just loneliness and emptiness.
The problem wasn't his lack of Stella, it was the lack of
himself. He truly, even at 37, didn't know who he was yet and
he
felt lost. Like a child wandering too far from safety.
Honestly, lost.
Stella was all he'd ever known, she was everything to him but
the
night after the incident with the Alderman and the man who
tried
to kill Stella, Stanley finally realized, it was over.
Stella would never again feel the way she once had, and by far,
she
would never again love him. Which blew his fragile heart
into a million shattered splinters of glass. So of course he jumped
at the chance for a little real conversation and human contact with
people who enjoyed his company. The only thing that bothered him
was that he was still confused as to weather the Vecchio family
lavished attention on him because they liked him, or because he
was just a replacement for their long lost Ray. And what scared
him the most was the idea of the latter. That it was only part of
the cover. He was getting sick of pretending to be someone else
and it was starting to confuse him. He wasn't sure he even had a
friend in the world. Yeah, Fraser was great, but maybe he was just
like everyone else, pretending to befriend him. Pretending.
Despite all his doubts he had tried to keep it all inside. All
his
fear. All his worries. He had learned how to live behind
a mask, and never let his guard drop. He had accidentally made
himself
vulnerable once before, and she had nearly killed him.
But, hiding
was safe. If he just acted like he didn't care,
like nothing mattered. If he turned away quick enough to avoid
anyone
seeing the sadness in his eyes. If he just kept pretending
to be
his hyper-active, instinctive self then no one would know.
It wasn't
just an accident that Frannie had opened her eyes when
Stanley happened
to be standing in front of her. It wasn't a
mistake. It wasn't just chance. There was a reason they were
alone in that station that night. A purpose. Two lonely people
with
their hearts out on silver plates for other people who
only spit on them. Frannie wasn't new to the concept that Fraser
was having nothing to do with her. Frankly, she was getting
quite sick of it. It was hurting too much to spend the eternity
of
her life chasing after a man who didn't even acknowledge
her presence. And the worst part was, she knew it. And she knew
it
was never gonna happen. Fraser was never going to feel
anything for her. She had realized this a few weeks after she
started
working at the station. It was obvious how oblivious
of her he was. It was then that she knew and it was then that
she
admitted it to herself.
She had to accept the fact. It was a lot harder than she had
expected. Every last glimmer of hope had been sucked from her
over
the course of the last week. Fraser was not worth her
energy, but she couldn't bring herself to stop her behavior,
she didn't really know how else to act around him anymore. All
she
knew was, she was deeply disappointed. She started to notice
that
Stan wasn't quite as obnoxious as usual and he hadn't been
correcting
her every statement, no matter how weirdly she'd
screwed it up. Suddenly things were starting to become very
bizarre and she was starting to feel really strange.
Once she had located her keys and slipped them into her purse
she
turned to Stan to find him perched on the edge of his desk,
arms
folded, eyes focused, eyebrows climbing further up his
forehead.
"What's wrong?" This time the words left her lips significantly
gentler than ever. Ordinarily she would have snapped out her
reaction to him, but for some strange reason she didn't feel
the need to fight tonight.
He slid off the desk, "Nuthin', why?"
"No reason." She flashed a quick smile that disappeared as
she
turned from him. Tossing her head back she quickly changed the
subject, "We gonna airplane?"
Stan almost let the comment slide due to how distracted he was by the
way her hair shimmered and bounced above her shoulders. And
how much he wanted to lean forward and just lightly touch it.
Touch
her. Still, he couldn't waste the opportunity. Not to
mention the fact that his over active brain was causing a thick
fog
of discomforted to roll in, "You mean 'jet', Frannie. We're
going to jet. Not airplane."
Francesca sighed in exasperation, "Airplane, jet, helicopter,
who cares!?" She waved her hands in the air dismissively. There
she was. Back again. Good old Frannie. Maybe it had just been
a passing
mood. Nothing more. Just an amusing thought. That
had to be it.
Stan had spent the entire drive to the Vecchio household trying
to
convince himself of that. Desperately trying to convince
himself that it was just a figment of his imagination. And it
had
almost worked. Almost.
After dinner was finished. Francesca was in the kitchen
standing at the sink with her mother. Stan was a good man, he
hadn't
been raised to be rude. He had good manners and enjoyed
using them.
Especially in the company of women when his manners
became quite
skilled and almost, dare to compare, Mountie-like.
He had been picking
up the dishes from the table and carefully
carrying them over to
the kitchen counter offering to wash them,
though Ma Vecchio would
have none of that, "Ray, you are such
a nice young man. Such
good manners and such sweet face." Her
accent was thick and
she placed her hands on his cheeks and
kissed his forehead, "Ray, you make wonderful company. Francesca
should be so lucky to work with a boy like you." She turned
to her daughter whom she loved more than life, "But, you
Francesca,
walking around with your head in the clouds." She
mildly scolded
her, "Open you eyes, child. Your a good girl,
Francesca and
I love you, but I'm not the only one. Open your
heart my dear."
She then kissed Frannie's wrinkled forehead in
the identical manner
she had just kissed Stan's. After giving
Stanley a smile she quietly
left the room.
They both stood. In silence. For a long, long moment. Finally
the
block of ice that surrounded them suspending them in mid
air was broken by Stan, "Are you sure I can't wash these for
ya?"
"Nah, you're our guest." She shrugged, "Sorry, about that.
Ma's
a little strange sometimes."
Stan shook his head and quickly threw in, "No, actually I'd
say she's very perceptive."
He immediately regretted that. He knew all too well that he had
just given too much away. He knew that when he did stupid things
like that only bad and painful situations resulted.
Frannie stood there for a moment, "Perceptive?" Her words were
barely muttered under her breath as she moved closer to him.
Filling in the empty space between them. He could feel his
world growing smaller and smaller, like a force field of static
electricity
that was drawing them nearer to one another. Right
on cue as she
was leaning closer to Stanley she felt a little
tug at the bottom
of her mini-skirt. She silently cursed her
families habit of bad timing under her breath. She looked down to find
an adorable little girl who was teetering around, barely able
to
walk with curly dark hair and a nose almost identical to
her own.
Her niece. She sighed inwardly then turned to the child, "Yes?"
Stan took a long step back and cleared his throat nervously.
Finding a clean fork on the table, he picked it up and busied
his
hands with it. Anything to avoid anyone actually knowing
how nervous he truly was. The little girl whined, "Aunt Fran,
I can't sleep." She could barely form intelligible words.
Francesca
bent down and scooped her up turning to search for
Stan who had disappeared further into the dining room. When
she spotted him she smiled, "Um... I'm gonna go get her mom
to put her back to bed."
He was just standing there. His eyes soft with an almost
tangible warmth. Why hadn't she ever seen this before? He hadn't
moved a muscle and after she'd finished her sentence she hadn't
taken
a breath either. She was terrified to. Afraid if she
somehow moved, breathed, let her heart take a beat that it would
ruin this. This moment she had stumbled into. When for the first
time ever she was seeing him. Who he was. On the inside. All
the fear, love, disappointment, hope, and redemption that he
held within himself. In the furthest deepest ocean of his heart.
Trapped inside for so long.
"I could take her?" He offered quietly. His voice was soothing
and warm to her now and all she wanted to do was close her eyes
and
listen to the sound of his voice forever. He stretched his
arms out
and Frannie passed the child onto him, wishing in a
tiny corner of her mind that she could be the one being held.
Wrapped,
close to his heart, in his arms. Quickly she left the
room looking
for her sister while trying her best to keep those
thoughts out of
her mind. What had gotten into her lately? Could
it be Ma was right?
Nah!
On her way back to the dinning room she could hear a whisper
of a voice. A smooth tone, not talking. Humming. The closer
she came to the room the more she recognized who was humming
the soft tune. She found Stanley cradling the sleeping baby
in his arms. Swaying side to side, his feet moving in a slow
subtle pattern. Dancing. He was gently patting her back in a slow
rhythm while dancing invisible circles around the room which
had
soothed her enough for her to fall asleep. Frannie wished that
for
once in her life she could have just a little of that security back.
That
snugly feeling that surrounded her when she was that young.
Something she'd lost long ago and never recovered.
When he turned and sensed her presence he stopped dead in his
tracks,
meeting her eyes directly. A slow blush spread up his
cheeks, "Sorry."
She couldn't stop herself from grinning at the peaceful image
in
front of her. "Don't be." She cautiously stepped closer and
placed her hand out and onto her nieces back then took her other
arm and carefully wrapped it around the back of Stan. Pausing
a moment
reminding himself not to let his own guard slip again he
actually
leaned in slightly towards Frannie. Right then he felt
as though
time stopped. He shifted so that he could move his
hand around to bring Frannie closer to him. She felt him pull
her
into the circle and wrap her in his warmth. A little pocket
of pure
indescribable soul-filling bliss he had just created.
As though the
world beyond them simply did no longer exist.
As they swayed together he managed to bring his head down and
lay
upon Francesca shoulder. He sweetly let his lips brush past
the soft
skin on her neck just under her jawline. She closed
her eyes. Terrified that if she opened them she would wake
up from this dream. Wake up alone. As always. She wasn't sure
she
could handle that, so she sealed her eyes shut even tighter.
She
could feel a heat start to smoke from her pulse points.
Her heart certainly was racing for being as relaxed as she was
at
this moment. She had never felt such a sensation as that.
That of being totally secure and calm yet completely intensely
alive.
Her heart was racing so rapidly she worried it might
just burst from her chest. Oh what a mess that would make, not
to
mention what a way to kill a mood.
Speaking of ways to kill a mood, there was Maria, right
on time. Mood killer number one, "Gee, I didn't know the party
was in here." Once again Stan stopped dead in his tracks.
Frannie's
sister slipped the baby from his arms and carried
her off to bed, "Thanks for watching her, Ray."
He shrugged and shook his head, "Aw, no prob."
Frannie had released her hold on him. As her niece and her sister exited
the room and made their way upstairs she turned back to Stan.
"Thanks
for coming for dinner, Ray."
"Thank you. I mean, this is the most fun I've had in a long
time."
Frannie frowned slightly, "Really?"
He looked down and stared at the carpeted floor then slipped
his hands in his pockets, "I don't really do much since Stella
and I split, ya know?" He shrugged.
With great concern seeping into her voice, "Sounds lonely."
she whispered.
"You have no idea." he nearly choked the words out the same
way he had that night in the car with Fraser after they dropped
the
Alderman and, non-intentionally, Stella off. He'd had to
explain it to Fraser, and that was hard enough in itself that
he
nearly caved in. This was impossible. How could he stand
here beside a woman he so deeply cared about, and cared about
impressing
and then do this? Let it all crumble in front of her. What
would
she do? Run screaming in the opposite direction he feared.
Instead
her reaction surprised him, she was still here. Planted
solidly in
front of him. No wavering. No intention of leaving.
"No, actually,
you know, I do know how it feels to be empty."
though she had
kept her tone low, he had heard her loud and
clear. Not so much what she said, but what she hadn't spoken.
All
the meaning she had let her eyes bring to him.
"It sucks doesn't it Frannie?" Was all his nervous mind could
think to say.
"Yeah, it does." She nodded in agreement, "Um, why don't
I walk
you to your car?" He had been shifting his weight from
one leg
to the other as he conversed with Frannie. She could sense
there
might be something more he wanted to say, but this wasn't the
place to discuss it.
She slipped her hand into his and walked him out the door and
down
the drive way. They were standing beside his GTO under
the orange glowing light of a street lamp.
"Your family is really nice Frannie, real nice." He had taken
her other hand in his and leaned against the hood of his car
bringing her to stand closer in front of him.
"Are you kidding me? You don't have to live with them everyday."
They both chuckled a little at her remark.
"I would love to have one of those." What he had just said
didn't
make a whole lot of sense to Frannie so she gave him a look
expressing her misunderstanding. He finished his last statement,
"I just mean that I want a family like that. You guys seem to
get along so well, even though ya might fight or argue, deep
down ya guys still love eachother and you can see that. I never
did
have a great relationship with my dad or any of my family
for that
matter. It just looks like a wonderful place to be.
Everyone is so warm and affectionate. Meanwhile I feel like
I was raised in a museum compared to you." He was rambling again
like he always did when he touched upon a subject that was
layered with meaning so deep he could never tackle it all.
Frannie felt herself freeze for a moment. She just realized
something about Stanley that seemed so obvious that she almost
hated
herself for not realizing it in the first place. This
man was starved. Not food starved, like Ma had always insisted
he
was, but love starved. Affection starved. Warmth starved.
And it was killing him. Slowly and steadily. Like he had said
his
home was never a place where warmth ran freely, then when
he thought
he had found what he needed in Stella, she completely
rejected him.
Tossing him aside for her career, not realizing
she could have had
both. But she didn't want both, which made
her cold and caused Stanley
to give up completely. Had he even
been on a date since the divorce?
He had worshipped her, believing
with all of him that she was going
to be the one. The one he
would love for the rest of his life. And up untill this moment,
he
had still believed it too.
Frannie felt an overwhelming need to say this, even though it
didn't
really fit into their current topic of conversation,
"Ray, I am so proud of you."
He quickly shifted his eyes to meet hers, wanting to know if
she was telling the truth, "Me?"
"Yes you." She had released her hands from his and moved them
freely to his face.
"Why me?"
She placed one hand delicately on this face. Tracing her
fingertips along his skin. From his temple to the crease on
his cheek that deepened when he smiled. She adored it when he
smiled,
the way the his face changed form and the entire
universe lit up. She wished he did it more often. Wishing
he had cause to. She hoped after this he would. "I'm proud of
you for being you." For enduring, for not giving up. If you
had given up where would I be? Though she didn't say what she
wanted
to, what she said next made up for it, "For being the
one I
could love for the rest of my life."
Stan's eyes grew daringly wide. A million questions were racing
through
his mind, most of which had to do with, "What about
Fraser,
I thought he was the one you'd gladly die for." But
he couldn't
bring himself to say any of that. For he had already
surrendered.
Her hand was soft and a certain heat radiated from it making
him feel something more than just her warmth that she shared
with him. He closed his eyes and let his head fall into her
hands. Drifting far away from what was the present. Trying his
damnedest
to hold onto this moment. To grasp it and possess it
with all his
might. In his soul he was feeling something
completely different than he ever had before. Something so foreign
to him that he didn't recognize it. One of those amazing feelings
he couldn't find words for. He couldn't put into words how she
was
making him feel and probably never could. the closest he
came to describing this feeling was, "I belong. For the first
time in my life, I finally feel like this is where I'm ment
to be. With her. Near her... I belong." Ordinarily he would
have chuckled at himself for having such a foolish thought,
and of Frannie no less. Of all the people in the world Frannie.
Why
Frannie? He didn't care why really, he was too busy being
content.
Marveling in the idea, Frannie. The truth, a
realization. All this time. He had finally found his angel.
And it was Frannie.
That had been what had done it for him. She had pulled him off
the
ledge when he was about to fall, jump, be engulfed in a
never-ending night of darkness and an endless bone chilling,
freezing coldness. It had scared him beyond emotion. And it
delighted him beyond words to realize there was actually someone
who cared about him. Someone who loved him, and more importantly,
someone who liked him. He was afraid that might be impossible.
He
had been reminded by Stella and eventually himself of all
his bad qualities and traits that he feared deep into his soul,
filling
his mind everyday with an indescribable panic and fear
that no one,
no one would ever love him. The way he had loved
before. The way
he needed to feel complete. The way Frannie
had made him feel.
*******************************
His kisses were intoxicating, but Frannie knew she had to break
free
and get back to work. Though she wanted to spend the entire
remainder
of the day right here trapped with him. Wrapped in
his arm. The feel of his hands on the bare skin of the back
of her waist made her so glad she had decided to wear the bare-
midriffed
shirt she had. She was also grateful for the fact
that Kowalski wasn't one of those starched and pressed snappy
dressers.
She loved the way his shirts remained casually half
tucked in, it
made it a whole lot less suspicious when they
would both emerge from a room together.
"Frannie?" He managed to ask between gulps of air before coming
back for more.
Instead of removing her lips from his, which would have been like
trying to breath without air right now, she made a soft sound
resembling,
"Hmmm?" Then continued enjoying the taste of his kisses.
Cinnamon.
"Hey, Frannie," he slowly peeled his lips off hers for a brief
moment but left himself pressed against her, craving and devouring
her warmth. As if it were a form of much needed nourishment.
Which in reality it was. Having her so close to him only made
him
want to be closer. Closer untill there would be nothing
left as interference between them. Closer untill he could feel
her
heart through his own chest. He knew he was getting off
track, "I was thinking."
"And?" She asked in a suggestive tone then slipped her fingers
through the belt loops of his jeans pulling him against her
with a sharp tug.
He grinned, "And, I was just thinkin' that, ya know, if we get
married now you won't even have to change your last name."
Frannie
abruptly grimaced at the idea. He laughed quietly, "What?
You
don't like the idea?"
"No!" Francesca defend her behavior, "It's just that I
got
this horrible picture of the Priest saying, "Do you Ray
Vecchio
take Francesca Vecchio to be you lawfully wedded wife?"
She shook
her head.
"Yeah," Stan had to agree, "I guess that, uh, would be
a little
weird." Over the time that they had been together Frannie
started
noticing more and more that Stanley had stopped stuttering
so
much. Especially when they were alone together. She seemed to
have an automatic and significant calming effect on him.
Enough talk. Though rational thoughts were bouncing themselves off
the inside of Kowalski's brain he paid them no attention. Even
the
feeling he was getting that he and Frannie should take this
somewhere
a little more private. He shrugged it off to instinct.
Even though
when he and Frannie did get together he told himself
to never again
shrug off his instincts. His first instinct with
Frannie was one
of great attraction. He could still remember
how he felt the day she first arrived to work at the station.
He
knew he was in trouble. Of course he had tried briefly
explaining that to Fraser, but like a lot of other things
concerning woman, he sometimes really just, didn't get it.
Still, Stanley had been trying to train himself to ignore his
instincts
and just flow with things. Besides things were going
so smoothly
why would he want to interrupt?
Before either of them knew why, Francesca was tumbling over on top
of Stanley and they both ended up landing on the floor with a
loud
crashing thud. Kowalski was lying spread eagle on his back
on the
floor of the observation room. And wouldn't you know
it, guess who was lying flat on top of him... Frannie. Who else?
Standing above him Stan recognized the face that owned those
blushing cheeks and apologetic look, "Oh! Ray. Francesca."
He
nodded at both of them, "I'm sorry to intrude."
"No prob. Frase." Frannie got up quickly, dusted herself off
and flashed Stan a suggestive grin before scurrying out of the
room
quicker than lightning.
Kowalski sighed heavily and propped himself up in his elbows,
not
quite ready to leave his position apparently, "What it is Fraser?"
He asked the grinning Mountie whose cheeks matched the same
shade as his red serge coat.
"Well, Ray, it's just that Leftenate Welsh was mentioning that
he needed Observation Room number 1 today for a witness to
identify a suspect. I was aware that you and Francesca were
here so I thought it might be in your best interest that I
provide a warning to you both."
Stanley took care of the most important matter first and lifted
himself
up off the floor and regained his composure. Moving
onto the second order of business, "How'd ya know 'bout me and
Frannie?"
"I could sense things had changed between the two of you. Even
though Frannie does an excellent job of trying to cover it up
by
continuing to argue with you, that spark of distaste just
isn't there anymore. Also, Ray, I have noticed that while she
pretends
to be interested in me there is a certain... hunger,
if you will,
missing. I knew something must have filled that
void. Also the look on your face was a dead give away that you
were
unhappy when she behaves that way. Plus, Ray, you must
remember I do have sharp senses that I have spent developing
in order to see the truth in any given situation..." Fraser
spiraled out of control. As he often did while telling Inuit
stories. His words picking up speed and were not giving a moments
hesitation towards stopping. Ray shook his head as Fraser
muttered on about... something. He wasn't really listening.
That is untill he heard one sentence come from Fraser that
reached out and grabbed his attention, "You know Ray, you're
not the only person to ever fall in love with a Vecchio."
His
immediate response was a double take, "Huh?"
Fraser said nothing only raised his eyebrows and popped his
eyes open wide. Giving Stan a look he had never seen before.
At first he was unsure of how to interpret it but before a moment
could pass the realization dawned on him, "Oh man. Fraser, I'm
so sorry, buddy."
Fraser looked stunned, "Why Ray? It's nothing you need be sorry
for."
Stan barreled on, the last comment not yet reaching his ears,
"Look,
Fraser. I didn't know. You gotta believe me. If I had
known I wouldn't
have gone near her."
"Her?" Fraser's brow wrinkled, he looked even more confused.
Stanley finished his thoughts, "If you want me to I'll lay off,
if it really bothers you, it might kill me but if I've caused
any
hard feelings then I'll call it off, if she means that much
to you."
Now Stan was the one spinning out of control. No pausing
to let Fraser
get one word in edgewise.
When he finally did stop he noticed the Mountie's perplexed look.
Fraser asked quietly, "Do you think I like Francesca?"
Kowalski stopped for a moment, "You don't?" There was a clear
expression of surprise, coupled with great relief.
Fraser shook his head. Whew! Stan wiped his brow internally.
"Good, Fraser, good." Slowly Stanley was becoming the one
confused, "Then who?"
Fraser sighed, putting his hand up to his face and started rubbing
the bridge of his nose between this thumb and index finger.
"Aaaaw, Fraser that's sick!" Stanley was stunned and a bit
horrified.
"Gee, Ray, I really wasn't expecting such a poor reaction from
you. I've always considered you a rather opened minded person."
Fraser opened the door and started to walk out.
Stanley grabbed the door and held it open as he made his way
out, "How'd ya think I was gonna react? I mean, come on Fraser,
Ma Vecchio? That's just gross!"
"Not that Vecchio." Fraser whispered while rolling his eyes.
He kept walking down the hall shaking his head sadly at Stanley's
lack of grasping the obvious.
Huey was leaning over the water fountain in the hallway. He
abruptly stood up and turned to Kowalski, "Are you ever gonna
get it?"
"Get what?" Stan shot Huey his puzzled look.
Huey in return rolled his eyes and walked off in the opposite
direction
down the hall.
Fraser had taken off way ahead of Kowalski and was nearing the
end
of the hall, "Wait up Fraser!" He hurried to catch up, but
Fraser ignored him and kept walking with Dief by his side. Just as
Fraser turned the corner it suddenly struck Kowalski, like a
2 by 4 to the head. Hello!?
Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. He looked up from staring
at the floor. He slowly whispered, "Oh." Nodding slowly in
recognition, all of the pieces of the puzzle slowly starting
to make sense to him. He finally got it.
Picking up speed he turned the corner. A combination of shock
and
surprise flooded him, "What the-" He was quickly cut off by
something being suddenly pressed against him before he came
tumbling down onto the floor. Flat on his back once again staring
up into a pair of beautiful eyes. File folders were flying everywhere
and papers were floating to the ground all around them. But the
outside
world slowly disappeared as he found the familiarness of
those
eyes. A warmth spreading through him... Francesca. He knew
with
all the certainty of the world. She truly was the one. The one
he
wanted to surrender to. His Frannie.
The End
(~MDK~)
October 1998
Standard Disclaimer Applies