Prompt 25: Disguise
Prompt 25: Disguise
Kowalski
Post CotW
Vecchio is in Florida with Stella making babies and opening a franchise of Canadian themed Bowling Alleys.
Fraser is out there…somewhere.
Ray returned to Chicago.
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys (worse luck) and I don't really have any money, and this is just for fun not profit so please don't sue me.
When Ray came back to Chicago he had to admit, life seemed a little flat and yet at the same time surreal. Especially after twenty months undercover as Vecchio, learning to negotiate the almost daily peril that was the unexpected bonus of being Fraser’s partner. After Their Amazing Arctic Adventure, and he always thought of it that way in his head, with capitals and the funny metallic writing, like it should be written on that special vellux paper. He could hear The Fraser Voice in his head chide him for using the word vellux, which was probably a baby veal, and telling him the word he should be using was pellum or archment or what the fuck ever. It seemed like surreal was his normal now, what with that inner Fraser Voice making free with the comments, and it was a little hard to adjust.
One thing that didn’t go back to normal, the old normal anyway, was that Ray was now permanent at the 27th. Welsh has refused to sign the transfer papers that would have returned him to the 19th Precinct where he had been based prior to his gig as Vecchio. Apparently Welsh had lost too many detectives recently, and this displeased him greatly, so Kowalski stayed. Ray had secretly been very surprised and flattered, because in the past, when his undercover gigs were over he’d be kicked back to his old precinct super-fast. The other thing that Welsh did was promise there would be no more undercover.
Ray hadn’t realised the thought of another undercover assignment had been bothering him until he noticed just how relieved he felt at that promise. So he worked the Robbery-homicide desk in the bull pen. And amazingly his clear up rate was about as good as it had been when he and Fraser were partners. Sometimes that almost made up for the way his life now felt like it wasn‘t really real.
A few months after his return Welsh asked him to attend a meeting in his office to discuss adding some extra responsibilities to his role.
Well it had actualy gone down that the Lieutenant had bellowed, “Kowalski, get in here!”
And Ray jumped to it.
It had come to the attention of the Chief of D’s at City Hall that no one had taken on the role of Liaison to the Canadian Consulate since Vecchio had officially retired. Apparently there had been several calls from the New Inspector requesting a meeting to discuss “the way ahead for their collaborative policing strategy.” Ray had been about to protest, but Welsh merely looked at him over his glasses and Ray’s mouth snapped his shut.
“It was between you or Dewey.” That was all Welsh said.
Ray shuddered. It had amazed him that Jack Huey had taken to the comedy business like a duck to soup, he had taken early retirement to run the place full time. Dewey had returned to work and was more of a silent partner in the club, it was just a shame that Dewey couldn’t be more of a silent partner around the bull-pen too.
But the thought of Dewey, who some-days still smelled like fish, and had a big mouth everyday, attempting to be diplomatic with a bunch of polite Canadians was too ugly to contemplate, so Ray agreed it was better if he did it.
The first few meetings were fine. The new Inspector, Dora Smith, was capable, yet kind and motherly, nothing like The Ice Queen. There was a new Mountie at the reception desk, saying “Welcome to Canada, Detective Kowalski” and a Temporary Assistant Deputy Consular Liaison Officer with a tiny office down the corridor behind the stairs, for Ray to liaison with. Not that there was much liaisoning to do, just a weekly meeting over tea and scones at three o’clock every Thursday, in the front parlour.
Ray imagined that eighteen months ago it would have been exactly the kind of normal, boring, non-perilous liaisoning he would have described in great detail to Fraser while they were hiding out in a warehouse under fire. Or maybe bumping along tied up in the back of a truck headed to God knows where… “This“ he would have mumbled around the gag he was no doubt being forced to wear to silence his complaints, “This is not what I call liaison!“
But it all felt a little flat now. And every time Ray was at the Consulate he found his ears straining to hear the tick tick tick of Dief’s claws, or the clack clack clack of The Ice Queen’s heels as she made her way out of her office to berate someone, probably Turnbull.
Every time he sat down in the comfy armchair in the parlour and ate a scone, heaped with jam and cream, he couldn’t help noticing that the scones were okay, but they were nothing like fluffy, delicious scones and cakes Turnbull had always been trying to feed him. And every time he sat opposite Temporary Assistant Deputy Consular Liaison Officer Lorena McTavish, who was very earnest and athletic looking, all he could do was think how fucked up in the head he must be, because he wished he was back having his life endangered in new and interesting ways by his best friend Benton Fraser.
One Thursday, about two months later, Lorena told Ray that her temporary assignment was over and the new Permanent Assistant Deputy Consular Liaison Officer would be arriving to take up their post. She thanked Ray very kindly for his diligence to the liaison process and wished him well. As he was leaving Inspector Smith hurried out of her office to catch him. She also thanked him very kindly for his assistance, and told him that there wouldn’t be a meeting the following week to allow their new Permanent Assistant Deputy Consular Liaison Officer to settle in and find his feet, but that they looked forward to resuming the meetings in a fortnight. As he left Ray wondered briefly what the new guy was going to be like, and why the Inspector appeared to be smirking at him.
In the end Ray didn’t have to wait two weeks to meet the new guy.
Welsh called him into the office first thing on the following Tuesday morning with an apology. Well he actually said, “Kowalski, get your ass in here you’re going undercover!” But Ray knew there was an apology in there somewhere.
He opened his mouth to ask what the job was but Welsh carried on talking. “I know I said that you wouldn’t have to do more of this. Well tough, this has come down from the FBI so we got no choice, and you’ve been mooching around here taking it easy for long enough.”
Ray frowned because he figured he’d been working his ass off clearing all his cases.
“So you want to hear what the job is, Kowalski? Or are we gonna sit around scratching our asses while the FBI make us look like fools.?”
“No Lieutenant.”
“No?” Welsh was scowling at him
“I mean yeah, tell me what the job is, sir.” Ray sprawled out on the lieutenant’s sofa and Welsh told him all about the kidnappings.
The victims were all from wealthy Chicago families, they would be released once the ransom was paid. Each victim had been taken from a different location but all of them had been found near the small town of Short Handle, Alberta. Welsh explained that the FBI and CSIS had been running a joint Task Force; keeping a lid on the press and managing the ransom drop-offs. So far each victim had been returned alive, but with no memory of what had happened to them. The special task force was closing in on the kidnappers, all they needed was a little more time.
Unfortunately the Mayor of Short Handle had picked up on what was happening. He was related to a former Ice Hockey star, who was the childhood friend of a renown RCMP officer, and the Mayor had used his connections to demand the RCMP send in their best man to investigate. The Mayor seemed to think the FBI was setting his town up to take a fall. He was concerned that local business would suffer if Short Handle became notorious as the kidnap capital of Canada.
Ray could feel something in his gut, something he recognised. He said “This sounds like…”
“Yes it does.” Welsh said, interrupting him, “It sounds exactly like…”
Then the door opened, and Welsh turned to his visitors, “Ah yes, Inspector Smith, I was just explaining the situation to my Detective.”
“Then we are fortunate to have arrived at this juncture.” Inspector Smith was smiling like a cat that still had canary feathers stuck in its teeth, as she came into the room. “I must say when I took over my post here I read through all the files my predecessor left, and I had expected more call for this kind of joint operation. But perhaps it is as well the need did not arise until our Permanent Assistant Deputy Liaison Officer had arrived.”
Ray finally managed to interrupt, he said. “It sounds like…”
“Yes, Detective Kowalski, It is indeed exactly the sort of case that you and your erstwhile partner would have been called upon to undertake.” Inspector Smith smiled at Ray in that motherly way he found ever so slightly creepy, then she continued. “In fact Mayor Smithbauer has already released a statement to the local paper informing them that the famous Constable Fraser and his Chicago partner Detective Vecchio are coming to Short Handle for a special, extended vacation.”
“But Fraser is off the grid, on that Sabbath thing.”
“Yes, a six month sabbatical to take part in a multicultural seven-man shamanistic vision quest and carbon neutral artistic retreat, in the far north reaches of Nunavut, does seem overly generous when looked at in retrospect.” Inspector Smith sighed, but then she smiled, and Ray was almost sure there was a twinkle in her eye as she continued. “But they say every cloud has a silver lining, and just as Benton was leaving us for a time we had the good fortune to see the return of another fine officer, who will be able to go undercover, posing as Constable Fraser.”
A tall figure in red serge and brown boots wearing those ridiculous riding breaches stepped through the door behind Inspector Smith.
Ray looked up, and up, because he had forgotten how tall he was, and yep that was a Mountie alright. Square of jaw, clean cut and handsome with bright blue eyes and a shy little smile on his lips.
“Hello Detective Vecchio.”
Yeah Ray recognised a Mountie when he saw one. It’s just this was the wrong Mountie. He swallowed because suddenly he knew he was on the verge of laughing. It was probably hysteria, so all he could manage to say was. “Turnbull?”
Kowalski
Post CotW
Vecchio is in Florida with Stella making babies and opening a franchise of Canadian themed Bowling Alleys.
Fraser is out there…somewhere.
Ray returned to Chicago.
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys (worse luck) and I don't really have any money, and this is just for fun not profit so please don't sue me.
When Ray came back to Chicago he had to admit, life seemed a little flat and yet at the same time surreal. Especially after twenty months undercover as Vecchio, learning to negotiate the almost daily peril that was the unexpected bonus of being Fraser’s partner. After Their Amazing Arctic Adventure, and he always thought of it that way in his head, with capitals and the funny metallic writing, like it should be written on that special vellux paper. He could hear The Fraser Voice in his head chide him for using the word vellux, which was probably a baby veal, and telling him the word he should be using was pellum or archment or what the fuck ever. It seemed like surreal was his normal now, what with that inner Fraser Voice making free with the comments, and it was a little hard to adjust.
One thing that didn’t go back to normal, the old normal anyway, was that Ray was now permanent at the 27th. Welsh has refused to sign the transfer papers that would have returned him to the 19th Precinct where he had been based prior to his gig as Vecchio. Apparently Welsh had lost too many detectives recently, and this displeased him greatly, so Kowalski stayed. Ray had secretly been very surprised and flattered, because in the past, when his undercover gigs were over he’d be kicked back to his old precinct super-fast. The other thing that Welsh did was promise there would be no more undercover.
Ray hadn’t realised the thought of another undercover assignment had been bothering him until he noticed just how relieved he felt at that promise. So he worked the Robbery-homicide desk in the bull pen. And amazingly his clear up rate was about as good as it had been when he and Fraser were partners. Sometimes that almost made up for the way his life now felt like it wasn‘t really real.
A few months after his return Welsh asked him to attend a meeting in his office to discuss adding some extra responsibilities to his role.
Well it had actualy gone down that the Lieutenant had bellowed, “Kowalski, get in here!”
And Ray jumped to it.
It had come to the attention of the Chief of D’s at City Hall that no one had taken on the role of Liaison to the Canadian Consulate since Vecchio had officially retired. Apparently there had been several calls from the New Inspector requesting a meeting to discuss “the way ahead for their collaborative policing strategy.” Ray had been about to protest, but Welsh merely looked at him over his glasses and Ray’s mouth snapped his shut.
“It was between you or Dewey.” That was all Welsh said.
Ray shuddered. It had amazed him that Jack Huey had taken to the comedy business like a duck to soup, he had taken early retirement to run the place full time. Dewey had returned to work and was more of a silent partner in the club, it was just a shame that Dewey couldn’t be more of a silent partner around the bull-pen too.
But the thought of Dewey, who some-days still smelled like fish, and had a big mouth everyday, attempting to be diplomatic with a bunch of polite Canadians was too ugly to contemplate, so Ray agreed it was better if he did it.
The first few meetings were fine. The new Inspector, Dora Smith, was capable, yet kind and motherly, nothing like The Ice Queen. There was a new Mountie at the reception desk, saying “Welcome to Canada, Detective Kowalski” and a Temporary Assistant Deputy Consular Liaison Officer with a tiny office down the corridor behind the stairs, for Ray to liaison with. Not that there was much liaisoning to do, just a weekly meeting over tea and scones at three o’clock every Thursday, in the front parlour.
Ray imagined that eighteen months ago it would have been exactly the kind of normal, boring, non-perilous liaisoning he would have described in great detail to Fraser while they were hiding out in a warehouse under fire. Or maybe bumping along tied up in the back of a truck headed to God knows where… “This“ he would have mumbled around the gag he was no doubt being forced to wear to silence his complaints, “This is not what I call liaison!“
But it all felt a little flat now. And every time Ray was at the Consulate he found his ears straining to hear the tick tick tick of Dief’s claws, or the clack clack clack of The Ice Queen’s heels as she made her way out of her office to berate someone, probably Turnbull.
Every time he sat down in the comfy armchair in the parlour and ate a scone, heaped with jam and cream, he couldn’t help noticing that the scones were okay, but they were nothing like fluffy, delicious scones and cakes Turnbull had always been trying to feed him. And every time he sat opposite Temporary Assistant Deputy Consular Liaison Officer Lorena McTavish, who was very earnest and athletic looking, all he could do was think how fucked up in the head he must be, because he wished he was back having his life endangered in new and interesting ways by his best friend Benton Fraser.
One Thursday, about two months later, Lorena told Ray that her temporary assignment was over and the new Permanent Assistant Deputy Consular Liaison Officer would be arriving to take up their post. She thanked Ray very kindly for his diligence to the liaison process and wished him well. As he was leaving Inspector Smith hurried out of her office to catch him. She also thanked him very kindly for his assistance, and told him that there wouldn’t be a meeting the following week to allow their new Permanent Assistant Deputy Consular Liaison Officer to settle in and find his feet, but that they looked forward to resuming the meetings in a fortnight. As he left Ray wondered briefly what the new guy was going to be like, and why the Inspector appeared to be smirking at him.
In the end Ray didn’t have to wait two weeks to meet the new guy.
Welsh called him into the office first thing on the following Tuesday morning with an apology. Well he actually said, “Kowalski, get your ass in here you’re going undercover!” But Ray knew there was an apology in there somewhere.
He opened his mouth to ask what the job was but Welsh carried on talking. “I know I said that you wouldn’t have to do more of this. Well tough, this has come down from the FBI so we got no choice, and you’ve been mooching around here taking it easy for long enough.”
Ray frowned because he figured he’d been working his ass off clearing all his cases.
“So you want to hear what the job is, Kowalski? Or are we gonna sit around scratching our asses while the FBI make us look like fools.?”
“No Lieutenant.”
“No?” Welsh was scowling at him
“I mean yeah, tell me what the job is, sir.” Ray sprawled out on the lieutenant’s sofa and Welsh told him all about the kidnappings.
The victims were all from wealthy Chicago families, they would be released once the ransom was paid. Each victim had been taken from a different location but all of them had been found near the small town of Short Handle, Alberta. Welsh explained that the FBI and CSIS had been running a joint Task Force; keeping a lid on the press and managing the ransom drop-offs. So far each victim had been returned alive, but with no memory of what had happened to them. The special task force was closing in on the kidnappers, all they needed was a little more time.
Unfortunately the Mayor of Short Handle had picked up on what was happening. He was related to a former Ice Hockey star, who was the childhood friend of a renown RCMP officer, and the Mayor had used his connections to demand the RCMP send in their best man to investigate. The Mayor seemed to think the FBI was setting his town up to take a fall. He was concerned that local business would suffer if Short Handle became notorious as the kidnap capital of Canada.
Ray could feel something in his gut, something he recognised. He said “This sounds like…”
“Yes it does.” Welsh said, interrupting him, “It sounds exactly like…”
Then the door opened, and Welsh turned to his visitors, “Ah yes, Inspector Smith, I was just explaining the situation to my Detective.”
“Then we are fortunate to have arrived at this juncture.” Inspector Smith was smiling like a cat that still had canary feathers stuck in its teeth, as she came into the room. “I must say when I took over my post here I read through all the files my predecessor left, and I had expected more call for this kind of joint operation. But perhaps it is as well the need did not arise until our Permanent Assistant Deputy Liaison Officer had arrived.”
Ray finally managed to interrupt, he said. “It sounds like…”
“Yes, Detective Kowalski, It is indeed exactly the sort of case that you and your erstwhile partner would have been called upon to undertake.” Inspector Smith smiled at Ray in that motherly way he found ever so slightly creepy, then she continued. “In fact Mayor Smithbauer has already released a statement to the local paper informing them that the famous Constable Fraser and his Chicago partner Detective Vecchio are coming to Short Handle for a special, extended vacation.”
“But Fraser is off the grid, on that Sabbath thing.”
“Yes, a six month sabbatical to take part in a multicultural seven-man shamanistic vision quest and carbon neutral artistic retreat, in the far north reaches of Nunavut, does seem overly generous when looked at in retrospect.” Inspector Smith sighed, but then she smiled, and Ray was almost sure there was a twinkle in her eye as she continued. “But they say every cloud has a silver lining, and just as Benton was leaving us for a time we had the good fortune to see the return of another fine officer, who will be able to go undercover, posing as Constable Fraser.”
A tall figure in red serge and brown boots wearing those ridiculous riding breaches stepped through the door behind Inspector Smith.
Ray looked up, and up, because he had forgotten how tall he was, and yep that was a Mountie alright. Square of jaw, clean cut and handsome with bright blue eyes and a shy little smile on his lips.
“Hello Detective Vecchio.”
Yeah Ray recognised a Mountie when he saw one. It’s just this was the wrong Mountie. He swallowed because suddenly he knew he was on the verge of laughing. It was probably hysteria, so all he could manage to say was. “Turnbull?”