dating challenge by sam80853
Title: Notes
author: sam80853
Characters: F/K
Rating: G
Words: 411
Notes: It's a set-up, really. I was set-up by stormymouse to write this and our boys are set-up as well.
Notes
By sam8053
As it happens there are two notes ending up on two different desks on the same day.
One desk happens to be the one of Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, who first came to Chicago on the trail of killers of his father and for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture remained, attached as liaison with the Canadian Consulate, in a small tidy office at said Consulate, ordering him to be at Shaw’s Crab House on 21 E Hubbard Street at 8 o’clock sharp, dressed in his brown uniform - signed: Inspector M. Thatcher.
The second desk is neither tidy nor occupied by his actual owner, Detective First Grade Raymond Vecchio of the Chicago Police Department but Stanley Raymond Kowalski, undercover-detective for said Raymond Vecchio. His attendance is requested at Shaw’s Crab House on 21 E Hubbard Street at 8 o’clock - signed: Constable Benton Fraser.
Neither men have a chance to speak with each other on this day and so it happens that they are placed at the same table in one of Chicago’s seafood houses, a grey-haired man wearing the red serge of the RCMP standing in one corner, smiling about a job well-done.
Robert Fraser prefers not to be seen by his son but watches proudly as Benton deals with this unexpected situation of meeting his obviously eager friend instead of his cold superior officer like he has taught him to - if Benton would just stop to rub his eyebrow constantly. Who has allowed the boy to keep up such tell-tale quirks? But that’s neither here nor there right now. More important is his son finally showing some initiative in the face of his friend’s obvious interest, touching the Yank’s hands lightly when he passes over the menu.
Hopeful smiles are exchanged, almost shyly, but things seem to go very well, Bob decides.
Their order looks delicious and it really is a shame that there is no reason to eat for the dead - afterlife has its drawbacks after all. Especially in the face of Benton and his companion not paying any attention to their food, only to each other. A waste of good food - a habit Bob decides to overlook, seeing his son leaving with his friend, walking closely side by side.
Perhaps his presence is no longer needed nor is his heart-to-heart talk with the creature Benton is so fond of.
“Go get your man, son,” Bob whispers and disappears.
The End
author: sam80853
Characters: F/K
Rating: G
Words: 411
Notes: It's a set-up, really. I was set-up by stormymouse to write this and our boys are set-up as well.
Notes
By sam8053
As it happens there are two notes ending up on two different desks on the same day.
One desk happens to be the one of Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, who first came to Chicago on the trail of killers of his father and for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture remained, attached as liaison with the Canadian Consulate, in a small tidy office at said Consulate, ordering him to be at Shaw’s Crab House on 21 E Hubbard Street at 8 o’clock sharp, dressed in his brown uniform - signed: Inspector M. Thatcher.
The second desk is neither tidy nor occupied by his actual owner, Detective First Grade Raymond Vecchio of the Chicago Police Department but Stanley Raymond Kowalski, undercover-detective for said Raymond Vecchio. His attendance is requested at Shaw’s Crab House on 21 E Hubbard Street at 8 o’clock - signed: Constable Benton Fraser.
Neither men have a chance to speak with each other on this day and so it happens that they are placed at the same table in one of Chicago’s seafood houses, a grey-haired man wearing the red serge of the RCMP standing in one corner, smiling about a job well-done.
Robert Fraser prefers not to be seen by his son but watches proudly as Benton deals with this unexpected situation of meeting his obviously eager friend instead of his cold superior officer like he has taught him to - if Benton would just stop to rub his eyebrow constantly. Who has allowed the boy to keep up such tell-tale quirks? But that’s neither here nor there right now. More important is his son finally showing some initiative in the face of his friend’s obvious interest, touching the Yank’s hands lightly when he passes over the menu.
Hopeful smiles are exchanged, almost shyly, but things seem to go very well, Bob decides.
Their order looks delicious and it really is a shame that there is no reason to eat for the dead - afterlife has its drawbacks after all. Especially in the face of Benton and his companion not paying any attention to their food, only to each other. A waste of good food - a habit Bob decides to overlook, seeing his son leaving with his friend, walking closely side by side.
Perhaps his presence is no longer needed nor is his heart-to-heart talk with the creature Benton is so fond of.
“Go get your man, son,” Bob whispers and disappears.
The End