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r_vecchio[ooc: *wails* Oh so very BELATED post. But so much fun to write! XD Ray reminds me of a 2D cartoon... In response to THIS..that shall be linked to at some point]
Ray had to admit the velvet was a nice touch.
He knew he was screwed when the watches terrified him more than the sentiment though.
He'd tugged at the bow with more than a passing interest, glanced furtively around the bullpen to see whether the sender was watching, whether anybody was watching for that matter, and frowned as the material fell away and lay resting on top of his open file.
He was tempted to stand up and yell to see if somebody else was expecting a delivery, maybe it'd been stuck on the wrong desk; but Ray'd be damned if he was letting a gift go without a fight. No label, no name tag, no address, no nothing. Finders keepers in his eyes.
Until said eyes practically popped right out of his little Italian head when he opened the top box. His first reaction was to whistle, high and long - swaaaanky waaaatch - but it got caught somewhere in his throat when he saw the face and fizzled out into some squeaky mouse-like sound. The eye-popping ensued, stuffing of said watch back into said box before anyone could see it, more conspicuous glancing around in case he was on TV.
And suddenly, he was very aware that this present was meant for him.
He scooped up the boxes and dropped them into his drawer, pushing away from the desk, standing up and shoving them in so fast he caught his little finger in his haste and had to muffle the curse word that slipped between his lips as his Lieutenant walked past.
The drawer mocked him for the rest of the day. He went to lunch early, came back late, worked at Kowalski’s desk, squished right up next to his partner despite the threats to his head and other body parts the Polack could reach with his foot. When he was asked what the problem was, Ray shrugged nervously and said he wanted a change of scenery.
When someone walked past his desk and asked him the time, he jumped up and called them a “Ffffffff-flaming maggot!” demanding they be arrested this instant. Kowalski made sure Ray didn’t touch any more coffee that day.
When it got to five o’clock, Ray flung on his jacket and legged it out of the precinct. He’d buckled up in the Riv before slamming his head against the wheel and remembering just what sort of guys he worked with. Guys with no concept of privacy or boundaries, no conscience when it came to rooting through other people’s desk.
Which meant the watch wasn’t safe there.
Welsh welcomed Ray back to the station with open arms, buttering him up to take on a night shift since Malloroy had called in sick. Ray was tempted to take him up on the offer and that was when he knew it had gone too far. A simple watch was making him do crazy things! Like actual police work!
That was what Asher wanted, Ray decided. To turn Ray round the bend. Mind games! Trickery! This was no normal vamp.
Resolved, he stormed to his desk and took out the box, slamming the drawer closed. It was a moment before he remembered there were two boxes. He drummed his fingers on the black velvet of the first, contemplating his choices. Open it. Don’t open it.
It couldn't be that bad. What could be worse than a silver watch with a- a- sign of…that on it?! The guys that wore those were the queers who were too scared to get their left ears pierced. That watch, Ray was sure of it, was a symbol of Homosexuality For Wimps. The Anti-Crucifix! The Devil’s jewellery. The antithesis of all that was GOOD and PURE in this WORL-
“Got the time, Vecchio?”
“SHUT UUUUPPP!!!” Ray flailed, box flying out of his hand and rolling along the floor, coming to a stop between Welsh’s feet.
“You know, Ray, on second thoughts,” the Lieu rubbed his nose with a thumb, “I think you should go home.”
“I can go home, sir?” Ray huddled in on himself, eyeing the box like it was a bomb, praying to God it wouldn’t pop open and betray the secret.
“I’m telling you to go home, Detective. Relax, get some rest. You look like Hell.”
“Thank you, siiiiiirohnoooo, I’ll get tha-”
There was a low groan as Welsh straightened up again. “Here,” he held the box out to him.
After a second’s hesitation, Ray snatched it from his grasp, stuck it under his arm and pulled the other one out from the drawer. He left the precinct before he had thought to close it again.
***
In the relative safety of the Buick Riveria, Ray was able to sit quietly and get his breath back, with no risk of anybody sneaking up on him. Thinking rationally was a first good step. Watches did not hold magical powers. This was the first thing Ray realized. So, whatever was in the second box could only be better. The only way was up!
A lungful of air later, Ray slid his fingertips around the lid and pulled the box open by its hinges.
The numbers stared him in the face.
69 is more than just a position…
He’d like to be able to say he had no idea how much time passed before his eyes went back to their normal shape, but staring at a watch kind of prevented that. Exactly two minutes and twenty four seconds later, Ray was conscious of his breathing again.
Gold.
Gay watches. Two of them. Ray had officially taken the corner, gone a hundred and ten down the highway and rounded the bend.
He pulled out of the parking lot a quarter hour later with the boxes safely stowed away in the glove compartment. Humming the BEEGEES helped keep his mind on the road, a large scotch at home topping him off.
Asher said it was good. Dangerous, black-eye inducing, but good. If these watches were anything to go by, then Ray was convinced “good” was code for “terrifying”. That might be the reason Ray hasn’t worn one. Yet.
Ray had to admit the velvet was a nice touch.
He knew he was screwed when the watches terrified him more than the sentiment though.
He'd tugged at the bow with more than a passing interest, glanced furtively around the bullpen to see whether the sender was watching, whether anybody was watching for that matter, and frowned as the material fell away and lay resting on top of his open file.
He was tempted to stand up and yell to see if somebody else was expecting a delivery, maybe it'd been stuck on the wrong desk; but Ray'd be damned if he was letting a gift go without a fight. No label, no name tag, no address, no nothing. Finders keepers in his eyes.
Until said eyes practically popped right out of his little Italian head when he opened the top box. His first reaction was to whistle, high and long - swaaaanky waaaatch - but it got caught somewhere in his throat when he saw the face and fizzled out into some squeaky mouse-like sound. The eye-popping ensued, stuffing of said watch back into said box before anyone could see it, more conspicuous glancing around in case he was on TV.
And suddenly, he was very aware that this present was meant for him.
He scooped up the boxes and dropped them into his drawer, pushing away from the desk, standing up and shoving them in so fast he caught his little finger in his haste and had to muffle the curse word that slipped between his lips as his Lieutenant walked past.
The drawer mocked him for the rest of the day. He went to lunch early, came back late, worked at Kowalski’s desk, squished right up next to his partner despite the threats to his head and other body parts the Polack could reach with his foot. When he was asked what the problem was, Ray shrugged nervously and said he wanted a change of scenery.
When someone walked past his desk and asked him the time, he jumped up and called them a “Ffffffff-flaming maggot!” demanding they be arrested this instant. Kowalski made sure Ray didn’t touch any more coffee that day.
When it got to five o’clock, Ray flung on his jacket and legged it out of the precinct. He’d buckled up in the Riv before slamming his head against the wheel and remembering just what sort of guys he worked with. Guys with no concept of privacy or boundaries, no conscience when it came to rooting through other people’s desk.
Which meant the watch wasn’t safe there.
Welsh welcomed Ray back to the station with open arms, buttering him up to take on a night shift since Malloroy had called in sick. Ray was tempted to take him up on the offer and that was when he knew it had gone too far. A simple watch was making him do crazy things! Like actual police work!
That was what Asher wanted, Ray decided. To turn Ray round the bend. Mind games! Trickery! This was no normal vamp.
Resolved, he stormed to his desk and took out the box, slamming the drawer closed. It was a moment before he remembered there were two boxes. He drummed his fingers on the black velvet of the first, contemplating his choices. Open it. Don’t open it.
It couldn't be that bad. What could be worse than a silver watch with a- a- sign of…that on it?! The guys that wore those were the queers who were too scared to get their left ears pierced. That watch, Ray was sure of it, was a symbol of Homosexuality For Wimps. The Anti-Crucifix! The Devil’s jewellery. The antithesis of all that was GOOD and PURE in this WORL-
“Got the time, Vecchio?”
“SHUT UUUUPPP!!!” Ray flailed, box flying out of his hand and rolling along the floor, coming to a stop between Welsh’s feet.
“You know, Ray, on second thoughts,” the Lieu rubbed his nose with a thumb, “I think you should go home.”
“I can go home, sir?” Ray huddled in on himself, eyeing the box like it was a bomb, praying to God it wouldn’t pop open and betray the secret.
“I’m telling you to go home, Detective. Relax, get some rest. You look like Hell.”
“Thank you, siiiiiirohnoooo, I’ll get tha-”
There was a low groan as Welsh straightened up again. “Here,” he held the box out to him.
After a second’s hesitation, Ray snatched it from his grasp, stuck it under his arm and pulled the other one out from the drawer. He left the precinct before he had thought to close it again.
***
In the relative safety of the Buick Riveria, Ray was able to sit quietly and get his breath back, with no risk of anybody sneaking up on him. Thinking rationally was a first good step. Watches did not hold magical powers. This was the first thing Ray realized. So, whatever was in the second box could only be better. The only way was up!
A lungful of air later, Ray slid his fingertips around the lid and pulled the box open by its hinges.
The numbers stared him in the face.
69 is more than just a position…
He’d like to be able to say he had no idea how much time passed before his eyes went back to their normal shape, but staring at a watch kind of prevented that. Exactly two minutes and twenty four seconds later, Ray was conscious of his breathing again.
Gold.
Gay watches. Two of them. Ray had officially taken the corner, gone a hundred and ten down the highway and rounded the bend.
He pulled out of the parking lot a quarter hour later with the boxes safely stowed away in the glove compartment. Humming the BEEGEES helped keep his mind on the road, a large scotch at home topping him off.
Asher said it was good. Dangerous, black-eye inducing, but good. If these watches were anything to go by, then Ray was convinced “good” was code for “terrifying”. That might be the reason Ray hasn’t worn one. Yet.
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no subject
Date: 2007-12-24 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-24 09:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-24 10:35 pm (UTC)Ren's told me what he's buying Ray for his birthday, by the way...
no subject
Date: 2007-12-25 01:05 am (UTC)Oooooh!! What is it?! Eee! Eee!
HAPPY CHRISTMAS DAY!!!
no subject
Date: 2007-12-26 07:07 pm (UTC)XD XD XD
Hilaaaarious!! Just. DUDE. I can't even.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-26 09:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-27 01:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-28 01:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-28 03:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-28 12:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-29 02:21 am (UTC)But ok, I shall take it. ;)
no subject
Date: 2007-12-29 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-29 02:28 am (UTC)Well now I totally have to comment MORE about how much I love it! Muhaha!