La Cucina Bella (F/V, PG, for aingeal8c)
La Cucina Bella (F/V, PG)
Prompt #13: "Don't put that in your mouth".
For aingeal8c
About 1650-ish words.
Disclaimer: Ray, Fraser, and Diefenbaker belong to Paul Haggis and company. Manny Ramirez belongs to himself and probably doesn't care what I think. I am making no money and no copyright infringement is intended. This fic is a labour of love.
It was a beautiful day. Well, to be honest, it was pouring rain, but that was neither here nor there. What made the day beautiful for Fraser was a combination of things, such as the fact that both his superior officer and his father would be away for the entire weekend.
Inspector Thatcher was on her way to Toronto (ostensibly on official RCMP business, although Fraser wasn't sure why she would need four suitcases and two garment bags for a series of meetings regarding passport regulations), and his father had made plans to attend a reading featuring the poetry of Robert Service, to be read by Mr. Service himself. Fraser couldn't help feeling slightly envious at the prospect of such an event, but since he would have had to be dead to attend, he was happy enough to sit the whole thing out. Besides, it meant his father wouldn't be appearing willy-nilly, as was his usual wont.
The other, more important reason for Fraser's good mood was his partner, who was in an equally good mood, despite the weather and the fact that a stakeout was forcing them to cancel their plans to go to Chinatown for dinner and instead eat bagged lunches in Ray's vehicle outside the gated residence of one Manuel "Manny" Ramirez, one of the known higher-ups in a gang called Los Calcetines Rojos. According to reports, Señor Ramirez and the gang's leader had recently fallen out--quite violently, to say the least--and now Señor Ramirez was allegedly planning to abscond to California with a large amount of money and narcotics belonging to his former gang as a pledge of fealty to a rival gang from Los Angeles. Ray and Fraser were to stake out the residence in order to capture Ramirez before he left the state, as well as to prevent any members of his former gang from breaking into his home and capturing and/or killing him first.
After three hours there was no sign of movement from either inside or outside of the Ramirez residence. "I don't think this guy's gonna show. In fact, you know what? I think he's already gone. Probably amscrayed with the goods before we even got here."
Fraser nodded. "I agree. Perhaps you should notify Lieutenant Welsh of our situation."
"Great minds think alike, Benny," replied Ray.
While waiting for Ray to finish his conversation with the Lieutenant, Fraser opened his lunch bag. He was a bit hungry by now, and besides, it was always best to make good use of idle time. Diefenbaker, who had been sleeping in the back seat, was now awake and sniffing the air hopefully. Fraser ignored him, which of course wouldn't work for long, but arguing with his wolf while Ray was in the middle of a conversation with his superior officer would be extremely rude, not to mention unprofessional.
As it turned out, Ray finished speaking with Lieutenant Welsh just as Diefenbaker began to whine pitifully (thereby letting Fraser know in no uncertain terms just how long it had been since breakfast, and that certainly he could expect a portion of Fraser's sandwich because of it).
"Oh, all right. But only because I don't want to watch a wild animal making a spectical of himself in front of Ray." He broke off about a third of his sandwich and set it down on a napkin on the back seat. "And if you spill crumbs on the seat, don't complain to me if Ray gets upset with you."
"Hey, don't worry about a couple of crumbs, car's due for a cleaning anyway."
"That's very generous of you, Ray, although it might not be a good idea to indulge him like that. He does have a regular meal schedule, after all."
"Hey, everyone deserves a little takeout once in a while, even a wolf."
"I assure you, Ray, he gets his share."
Ray shrugged. "What are you gonna do? He's a canine, they have culinary needs. Anyway, you might as well give Dief the whole sandwich, because the stakeout's done. We're gonna stop at your place so you can change, and then you're coming to my house for dinner."
"I am?"
"You are. So don't put that in your mouth." With that, he plucked Fraser's sandwich from his hands and set it down on Dief's napkin.
"But Ray, I--"
"Don't you 'but Ray' me. Look, I got the house to myself for the weekend, which means Ma's not around to banish me from the kitchen like she usually does. You come home with me and I'll show you real food."
"Ray, I've had your mother's cooking on more than one occasion. It's delicious. But I don't understand why--"
"You will, Benny. You will. It's different without fifty people yelling in your face, and besides, it's not Ma's cooking, it's mine."
"Oh, for goodness sake, Ray, there have never been more than ten people at your dinner table. Well, unless you count last year's St. Joseph's Day dinner, which I don't, because the firefighters and paramedics would almost certainly not have been present if it weren't for the unfortunate incident involving Diefenbaker and that tray of zeppole."
"Fraser."
"Yes?"
"Shut up and humour me, okay?"
"I appreciate the offer, but surely you don't want--"
"Dinner. My house. End of conversation." With an exaggerated flourish, Ray turned in his seat and started the car. That, it appeared, was that.
****************
"Was I right or was I right?"
Fraser pushed his plate back from the edge of the table and blotted his mouth with a blue Damask napkin. "You were right, Ray. You're an excellent cook. The scampi was delicious and your Tiramisu is the best I've had. And you're right about the ambiance as well. It is indeed different without the, ah, interruptions."
Ray sipped his wine and beamed. "Why thank you, Benny, that's nice of you." Ray had indeed gone "all out", as they say, by setting the table with Mrs. Vecchio's company china and best linens. And having no arguing family present gave the evening a quiet, almost anticipatory feeling. Diefenbaker, having insisted on a serving despite Fraser's admonishments about weight gain, was fast asleep under the table.
"It's only the truth, Ray." Fraser stood and picked up his plate.
"Oh, no you don't," Ray admonished, taking the plate from Fraser's hand. "Those can wait. I got something to talk to you about."
Oh, dear. Fraser wracked his brain but couldn't for the life of him come up with anything he might have done, good or bad, to engender such a serious tone from Ray. Quite the opposite, in fact; Ray had been in an unusually jovial mood all day.
"Come on in the living room, Benny. We need to sit down." Fraser followed Ray into the living room. Ray stood near the couch but apparently had changed his mind about sitting down.
"Maybe we shouldn't sit down. Maybe we should talk about this standing up. In case you want to leave, I mean." Now Fraser was more confused than ever.
"Why would I want to leave, Ray? I thoroughly enjoyed the meal you cooked me, and it's early, yet. I'm perfectly willing to help with the dishes."
"This isn't about dishes, Fraser." Ray looked quite anxious. Fraser wished his partner would tell him what on Earth was wrong so Fraser could do his part to alleviate some of Ray's anxiety, if possible. The problem was, Ray's being anxious was making Fraser anxious, and when Fraser got anxious he often got irritable.
"Then why don't you tell me what it is about, Ray, because you've got me completely confused."
Ray took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he took another, exhaling even slower this time. Fraser waited what he hoped was patiently.
"Okay." Deep breath. "Okay, it's like this."
"Like what?"
"Like this, okay?" In a sudden burst of energy, Ray grasped Fraser by the shoulders, swooped in and kissed him, softly but quite soundly, and then let go just as quickly, standing back and looking everywhere but at his partner. "Like that."
"Oh," said Fraser, because there was nothing else to say.
Ray sank down on the couch. "I guess you want to leave now."
Fraser didn't know what to think, and he wasn't at all sure what he wanted. What he was absolutely sure of, however, is that he did not want to leave.
"Why would I leave, Ray? Because you kissed me? Or perhaps you think I'm angry at you for not letting me help with the dinner dishes."
"You're really not mad?"
"No, Ray."
"And you're not gonna leave?"
"No, Ray."
"Oh. Well, maybe we should do something, then. About the kiss or about--"
"The dishes?"
Ray shook his head and smiled at Fraser. "You really know how to make a person feel better, Benny."
"As do you, Ray. In fact, if you'd like to repeat your actions, maybe a little slower this time, I'd be more than agreeable."
"Agreeable?"
"More than agreeable."
"Oh. Well. You probably should sit down, then. This might take a while." Fraser did just that, and Ray was right--the second try did take a while, because this time Fraser helped, pulling Ray close and giving back everything he got. And Ray's arms were warm and his mouth was warmer, and the kiss left them both breathless.
"Wow, Benny, I should cook for you more often." Ray smile was like warm sunshine.
"As you wish. May I suggest breakfast?"
"Good suggestion. And if we miss breakfast, there's always lunch."
"Diefenbaker won't let us miss breakfast, I'm afraid. He's an early riser."
"We'd better turn in early, then, huh?"
"A wise decision, Ray," replied Fraser, kissing Ray again.
And so they did. And in the morning, they put last night's dishes in soak, and Fraser made pancakes.
Prompt #13: "Don't put that in your mouth".
For aingeal8c
About 1650-ish words.
Disclaimer: Ray, Fraser, and Diefenbaker belong to Paul Haggis and company. Manny Ramirez belongs to himself and probably doesn't care what I think. I am making no money and no copyright infringement is intended. This fic is a labour of love.
It was a beautiful day. Well, to be honest, it was pouring rain, but that was neither here nor there. What made the day beautiful for Fraser was a combination of things, such as the fact that both his superior officer and his father would be away for the entire weekend.
Inspector Thatcher was on her way to Toronto (ostensibly on official RCMP business, although Fraser wasn't sure why she would need four suitcases and two garment bags for a series of meetings regarding passport regulations), and his father had made plans to attend a reading featuring the poetry of Robert Service, to be read by Mr. Service himself. Fraser couldn't help feeling slightly envious at the prospect of such an event, but since he would have had to be dead to attend, he was happy enough to sit the whole thing out. Besides, it meant his father wouldn't be appearing willy-nilly, as was his usual wont.
The other, more important reason for Fraser's good mood was his partner, who was in an equally good mood, despite the weather and the fact that a stakeout was forcing them to cancel their plans to go to Chinatown for dinner and instead eat bagged lunches in Ray's vehicle outside the gated residence of one Manuel "Manny" Ramirez, one of the known higher-ups in a gang called Los Calcetines Rojos. According to reports, Señor Ramirez and the gang's leader had recently fallen out--quite violently, to say the least--and now Señor Ramirez was allegedly planning to abscond to California with a large amount of money and narcotics belonging to his former gang as a pledge of fealty to a rival gang from Los Angeles. Ray and Fraser were to stake out the residence in order to capture Ramirez before he left the state, as well as to prevent any members of his former gang from breaking into his home and capturing and/or killing him first.
After three hours there was no sign of movement from either inside or outside of the Ramirez residence. "I don't think this guy's gonna show. In fact, you know what? I think he's already gone. Probably amscrayed with the goods before we even got here."
Fraser nodded. "I agree. Perhaps you should notify Lieutenant Welsh of our situation."
"Great minds think alike, Benny," replied Ray.
While waiting for Ray to finish his conversation with the Lieutenant, Fraser opened his lunch bag. He was a bit hungry by now, and besides, it was always best to make good use of idle time. Diefenbaker, who had been sleeping in the back seat, was now awake and sniffing the air hopefully. Fraser ignored him, which of course wouldn't work for long, but arguing with his wolf while Ray was in the middle of a conversation with his superior officer would be extremely rude, not to mention unprofessional.
As it turned out, Ray finished speaking with Lieutenant Welsh just as Diefenbaker began to whine pitifully (thereby letting Fraser know in no uncertain terms just how long it had been since breakfast, and that certainly he could expect a portion of Fraser's sandwich because of it).
"Oh, all right. But only because I don't want to watch a wild animal making a spectical of himself in front of Ray." He broke off about a third of his sandwich and set it down on a napkin on the back seat. "And if you spill crumbs on the seat, don't complain to me if Ray gets upset with you."
"Hey, don't worry about a couple of crumbs, car's due for a cleaning anyway."
"That's very generous of you, Ray, although it might not be a good idea to indulge him like that. He does have a regular meal schedule, after all."
"Hey, everyone deserves a little takeout once in a while, even a wolf."
"I assure you, Ray, he gets his share."
Ray shrugged. "What are you gonna do? He's a canine, they have culinary needs. Anyway, you might as well give Dief the whole sandwich, because the stakeout's done. We're gonna stop at your place so you can change, and then you're coming to my house for dinner."
"I am?"
"You are. So don't put that in your mouth." With that, he plucked Fraser's sandwich from his hands and set it down on Dief's napkin.
"But Ray, I--"
"Don't you 'but Ray' me. Look, I got the house to myself for the weekend, which means Ma's not around to banish me from the kitchen like she usually does. You come home with me and I'll show you real food."
"Ray, I've had your mother's cooking on more than one occasion. It's delicious. But I don't understand why--"
"You will, Benny. You will. It's different without fifty people yelling in your face, and besides, it's not Ma's cooking, it's mine."
"Oh, for goodness sake, Ray, there have never been more than ten people at your dinner table. Well, unless you count last year's St. Joseph's Day dinner, which I don't, because the firefighters and paramedics would almost certainly not have been present if it weren't for the unfortunate incident involving Diefenbaker and that tray of zeppole."
"Fraser."
"Yes?"
"Shut up and humour me, okay?"
"I appreciate the offer, but surely you don't want--"
"Dinner. My house. End of conversation." With an exaggerated flourish, Ray turned in his seat and started the car. That, it appeared, was that.
****************
"Was I right or was I right?"
Fraser pushed his plate back from the edge of the table and blotted his mouth with a blue Damask napkin. "You were right, Ray. You're an excellent cook. The scampi was delicious and your Tiramisu is the best I've had. And you're right about the ambiance as well. It is indeed different without the, ah, interruptions."
Ray sipped his wine and beamed. "Why thank you, Benny, that's nice of you." Ray had indeed gone "all out", as they say, by setting the table with Mrs. Vecchio's company china and best linens. And having no arguing family present gave the evening a quiet, almost anticipatory feeling. Diefenbaker, having insisted on a serving despite Fraser's admonishments about weight gain, was fast asleep under the table.
"It's only the truth, Ray." Fraser stood and picked up his plate.
"Oh, no you don't," Ray admonished, taking the plate from Fraser's hand. "Those can wait. I got something to talk to you about."
Oh, dear. Fraser wracked his brain but couldn't for the life of him come up with anything he might have done, good or bad, to engender such a serious tone from Ray. Quite the opposite, in fact; Ray had been in an unusually jovial mood all day.
"Come on in the living room, Benny. We need to sit down." Fraser followed Ray into the living room. Ray stood near the couch but apparently had changed his mind about sitting down.
"Maybe we shouldn't sit down. Maybe we should talk about this standing up. In case you want to leave, I mean." Now Fraser was more confused than ever.
"Why would I want to leave, Ray? I thoroughly enjoyed the meal you cooked me, and it's early, yet. I'm perfectly willing to help with the dishes."
"This isn't about dishes, Fraser." Ray looked quite anxious. Fraser wished his partner would tell him what on Earth was wrong so Fraser could do his part to alleviate some of Ray's anxiety, if possible. The problem was, Ray's being anxious was making Fraser anxious, and when Fraser got anxious he often got irritable.
"Then why don't you tell me what it is about, Ray, because you've got me completely confused."
Ray took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he took another, exhaling even slower this time. Fraser waited what he hoped was patiently.
"Okay." Deep breath. "Okay, it's like this."
"Like what?"
"Like this, okay?" In a sudden burst of energy, Ray grasped Fraser by the shoulders, swooped in and kissed him, softly but quite soundly, and then let go just as quickly, standing back and looking everywhere but at his partner. "Like that."
"Oh," said Fraser, because there was nothing else to say.
Ray sank down on the couch. "I guess you want to leave now."
Fraser didn't know what to think, and he wasn't at all sure what he wanted. What he was absolutely sure of, however, is that he did not want to leave.
"Why would I leave, Ray? Because you kissed me? Or perhaps you think I'm angry at you for not letting me help with the dinner dishes."
"You're really not mad?"
"No, Ray."
"And you're not gonna leave?"
"No, Ray."
"Oh. Well, maybe we should do something, then. About the kiss or about--"
"The dishes?"
Ray shook his head and smiled at Fraser. "You really know how to make a person feel better, Benny."
"As do you, Ray. In fact, if you'd like to repeat your actions, maybe a little slower this time, I'd be more than agreeable."
"Agreeable?"
"More than agreeable."
"Oh. Well. You probably should sit down, then. This might take a while." Fraser did just that, and Ray was right--the second try did take a while, because this time Fraser helped, pulling Ray close and giving back everything he got. And Ray's arms were warm and his mouth was warmer, and the kiss left them both breathless.
"Wow, Benny, I should cook for you more often." Ray smile was like warm sunshine.
"As you wish. May I suggest breakfast?"
"Good suggestion. And if we miss breakfast, there's always lunch."
"Diefenbaker won't let us miss breakfast, I'm afraid. He's an early riser."
"We'd better turn in early, then, huh?"
"A wise decision, Ray," replied Fraser, kissing Ray again.
And so they did. And in the morning, they put last night's dishes in soak, and Fraser made pancakes.