He sat on the edge of the pedistal, staring at the ceiling and taking some stock in his life. Here we go: fact, he was covered, head to toe, in some kinda oily... gook. Fact, he was kinda woozy and disorientated from the whole adventure through whatever kinda hoodoo they'd gotten their fingers into back home
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Most days, it was a fairly standard walk, but today things were slightly different. Most days, when Fraser passed the popcorn room, he smelled salt and the grease and terribly chemical fake butter, and beneath that the faint burnt smell of popped corn, and beneath that the scent of slightly damp stone, and that was usually it.
Today, he smelled hair gel. Well, he still smelled the salt and the butter and the popcorn and the like, but underneath all of that there was hair gel, aftershave, and a whiff of car interior that could only have come from a 1967 GTO, and all those things together made up Ray. Fraser stopped in his tracks and looked down at Diefenbaker, who had clearly gotten the scent as well -- the moment their eyes met, the wolf bounded for the door to the Popcorn Room, barking enthusiastically.
Fraser's face split into a grin and he took off after Diefenbaker, covering the distance in a matter of seconds, pulling open the door for the both of them. Ray had finally made it -- it felt like an eternity since he'd last seen his partner, and so much had happened since then. He couldn't wait to tell him. He couldn't wait to see how much Ray believed.
He spotted the man and grinned even wider, raising a hand in greeting. "Ray!" he called. Dief was already off like a shot, pawing at Ray's legs before either one could say another word.
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He settled on a comfortable in-between. "What the hell is goin' on around here?" He sized up Fraser thoughtfully. "And why aren't you covered in this stuff?"
Maybe Canadians really did have some kind of anti-mess shield.
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That taken care of, Fraser looked back up at Ray and grinned all over again. Ray! Ray was here! And... oh, Ray was asking him questions. "Ah, well, I've been here for quite some time, actually. Plus, I appeared down in the Sorting Room and not here, and there's not a great deal of salt or hydrogenated soybean oil down there."
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".... hydrogenated?" At least with the wolf not sniffing his leg he could regain some dignity, right? He gave Fraser a bit of a look. "And here is... where? How come you got here early?"
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"As for your other question, well, that's a little trickier to explain..." He scratched his thumb over his brow, thinking. "I'm not early, Ray -- you're late. About a month late, to be precise. Apparently, there was a bit of a-- well, a glitch in the process, which delayed you for quite some time."
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"What kinda glitch? How do you glitch this kinda freaky business?"
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"Apparently," he began again, quietly, "much as you were brought in to impersonate Ray Vecchio, another detective was in fact assigned to impersonate you -- that is, Stanley Kowalski you, not Ray Vecchio you. I assume it was some kind of... departmental miscommunication that we were never told -- nor apparently were Stella or your parents -- but regardless, nine months ago a man calling himself Detective Ray Kowalski appeared here, at this school."
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"So... what, where is the guy? Was he tryin' to keep us out?'
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"In a manner of speaking, yes." Fraser continued with his exposition explanation. "When we were pulled out of Chicago, you see, I arrived here almost immediately, albeit completely disoriented and with absolutely no memory of how or why I'd come. Once my head cleared, I couldn't figure out why you were still absent, so I took the liberty of investigating the matter, at which point I found out about this third Ray and the... popcorn." He gestured to the room at large; Dief, looking awfully hungry, followed the moments of his hand and whined. Fraser gave him a look. "No."
Back to the plot. "My theory is, this place doesn't allow for two of the same person to exist here at the same time. By the time we were brought here, your ringer had been popcorn for several months, but I think his presence may have... well, confused, I suppose, whatever powers are in charge here. Hence your delayed arrival."
The story out of the way, he brightened and grinned again. "It's good to see you, Ray."
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"Yeah, well, it's good to be seen." He rubs the back of his head thoughtfully. "Maybe we should get outta here before anyone or anything gets licked. Or eaten."
He nods, and slides on his (somewhat slimy) sunglasses to hide his eyes. "Yeah. Good to be seen." And to see Fraser. But he doesn't have to say that.
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He walked slow and waited for Fraser to catch up, before he finally peered over the top of his sunglasses. "... where we going? Actually, where ARE we?"
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Idly adjusting his Sam Browne, he looked over at Ray curiously, then gestured up the hallway. "I was planning on taking you to Gryffindor, Ray. That's where my room is, and where I believe your doppelganger was Sorted nine months ago. Incidentally, Ray, he really did a marvelous job impersonating you -- I would have put you there myself in a heartbeat."
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Someone possibly hadn't read any of the briefing. Skimmed, maybe he did skim a little.
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"We'll get you set up with a room, but..." He glanced Ray up and down. "You might want to get cleaned up first," he suggested mildly.
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"At this point, Fraser, I would kiss a trout and sing a ditty to the Yankees just to get outta these pants."
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