fic: On and Off a Balcony (Gorgeous Carat, Solomon, Ray, minor Ray/Florian)
Title: On and Off a Balcony
Author: misura
Fandom: Gorgeous Carat
Characters/Pairing: Solomon, Ray, hinted Ray/Florian
Challenge: May 2007 - balcony, color purple, a secret
XXXX: The balcony's hard to miss, the secret's the same old (and possibly not really a secret anymore) but with the color purple, I took a teensy liberty in 'translating' it to amethyst, which is (according to Ray) the colour of Florian's eyes, which Solomon comments on.
Warnings and Notes: *G* This theme seems to have been made for this fandom, considering this is the second fic in this fandom that got written for it. (I was trying for another fandom, but it just wouldn't work.)
"I really *am* surprised nobody's arrested you yet," said Ray.
Solomon looked slightly hurt - either at Ray's implication that he felt someone *should* arrest him, or at his failure to make it beyond the balcony unnoticedly. If truth be told, Ray didn't much care which it was, as long as Solomon would just hurry up and vanish.
"I could say the same, and with much more reason." Solomon straightened and tried to look as if he'd never not intended for Ray to find him. "Half of the newspapers are still raving about that little stunt you pulled at the Italian ambassador's wife's soiree last week, and the other half is busy speculating about your next heist."
Ray snorted and reached for his cigar-case, then realized he'd left it in the library. "I'm sure I have no idea whatsoever what you're talking about. People like me don't get invited to those kinds of parties - it'd spoil the mood. Don't tell me *you* were invited."
"I have earned a certain reputation over the years, you know," said Solomon, with a modesty that was so obviously fake that Ray was tempted to try and see if one good shove would knock him off the balcony.
"As that guy who's always running around and wildly accusing innocent people of being criminals?" Ray asked sarcastically. "It's something different, I suppose - a nice change from the usual topics of conversation. Politics and gossip must get boring after a while."
"As one of the best private investigators in Paris, not to say in France," Solomon corrected him.
"Not to say in the world?" Ray shook his head. "Really, Solomon, if you must be vain, at least make it sound good. I can't say I know any exact numbers, but I'd bet there's no more than, what, a dozen, private detectives in all of France - most of them guys that the police-force didn't want anymore, because they got too old, or because they just didn't know when to quit. Both of which also apply to you, now that I think about it."
"The head of the city police is nearly twice as old as I am," said Solomon.
"Fine, fine; you didn't get too old, you just got middle-aged."
"And you're old enough to be considered an adult for the law," said Solomon. "You're not some snotty brat of seventeen anymore, Ray, who could get away with stealing a string of pearls simply to prove he's smarter than the police."
"Middle-aged and boring." Ray crossed his arms over his chest. "It's always the same with you, isn't it?"
"If I'd have made it into your library and to your safe, would I have found the Italian ambassador's wife's necklace in it?"
"No," said Ray, quite truthfully. Even before he'd noticed Solomon sneaking around his house, he'd made sure that his official safe only ever contained items he had gotten by official or at least legal means. It was a reassurance to hear Solomon didn't know about the other safe - for all that Solomon wasn't half the big-shot detective he fancied himself to be, Ray didn't mistake him for a complete idiot; Solomon had an annoying habit of noticing all kinds of small things and *remembering* them.
"I don't believe you."
"Then why did you ask?" Ray inquired reasonably.
Solomon studied his fingernails. "I *might* believe you if you'd show me."
"Hah!" Oh, sure, Ray *could* agree to Solomon's not-so-subtle request - there was nothing to see, after all, nothing that would connect Ray with Noir. "Not damn likely." He could also give the man a key to his house and an open invitation to drop by any time he felt like it. "There's such a thing as privacy, you know. If you want to see the contents of my safe, you'll have to convince the police there's a good reason for it."
Solomon sighed. Ray refused to believe the man had ever thought Ray might agree - the fact that the only way Solomon could get into the house in the first place was by climbing onto the balcony should definitely have been a clue as to just how welcome he was.
"How's Florian?"
"Florian's fine," said Ray, more than a little suspicious at the sudden change in subject. "Laila's fine - still on her honeymoon, so not here. Noel's fine, too, I'm sure." He managed to shut his mouth before he added that Florian would know far better than he did how Noel was doing. He didn't think Florian would deliberately spill the beans on him, but, well, Florian could be a bit of an idiot.
"I only asked about Florian," Solomon pointed out. "Although I'm pleased to hear Laila and Noel are doing well for themselves, too."
"Humph." Ray had no intention of admitting he missed Laila, just a little. Not 'missed' as in 'found it hard to do without', he assured himself quickly - just 'missed' as in 'hadn't quite gotten used to not having her around yet'. The house was quieter, more peaceful without Laila around.
"So, how close is he to paying off his debt to you?"
"That's absolutely none of your business," Ray said quickly.
"Why, that rather sounds like I hit a nerve." Solomon's glasses glinted. "That close, is he?"
Ray clenched his teeth and refused to dignify that with an answer.
"Perhaps I should offer to help him out a bit," Solomon mused. "I might not be as rich as you are, but I'm not poor either. You're always complaining about what a burden he is to you; why don't you let me do both of you the favor of clearing his debt?"
"It's Florian's debt, and Florian's the one who's going to clear it." Florian was far too proud to even consider accepting anyone's help, anyway, Ray reassured himself. Solomon was just trying to get him riled up about nothing.
"He could clear it by telling me your secret," Solomon said. "That'd be worth quite a bit to me. He'd earn the money fair and square; it wouldn't be the kind of charity that he'd feel honor-bound to refuse."
"Florian wouldn't do something like that."
"Why not?" Solomon asked, spreading his hands in a gesture of innocent ignorance. "Enlighten me, Ray. You treat him like he's less than a servant, you constantly complain about him - but when I offer to take him off your hands from the goodness of my heart, you turn me down flat. Don't tell me it's just because he's got pretty eyes."
"You keep your hands off him, or I'll ... I'll ... " Ray slammed his fist against the wall, the faintly amused expression on Solomon's face not doing anything to improve his temper.
"I have no interest in Florian." Solomon snorted. "I like him; he's a lot more polite than you are, but that's all. Unlike you, I don't have any problems admitting I care about someone."
"What are you insinuating?" Ray demanded.
"I'm insinuating nothing." Solomon adjusted his glasses, sending Ray a sharp look. "I'm simply telling you, Ray, that if you keep on treating him the way you do, sooner or later, you'll lose him. I know that's not what you want, and I think you know that, too. Just admit to him that he's important to you."
"And that's going to make him stay?" Ray sneered. "You're a fool."
Solomon shrugged. "I certainly feel like one, thinking I'd be able to talk some sense into you. Oh, and you should get someone to look at your hand. Even if it's just bruised, it'll be a nuisance to try and pry open any locks with only one good hand. You should be more careful."
"I'm touched by your concern," Ray said sarcastically. Florian'd probably be in bed already - no matter; Ray'd simply wake him up and tell him to make himself useful for once. It was his fault Ray had gotten injured in the first place anyway; if Florian'd just be a little more submissive, Ray wouldn't have reacted to strongly to Solomon's baiting him with that ridiculous suggestion of his.
"Why do I even bother?" Solomon sighed.
"I'll let Laila know you asked about her," Ray said. Not Florian, he didn't think so - Ray had no intention of informing Florian just what comment of Solomon's had prompted him to injure his hand.
"Please do. And take care of yourself."
"I always do," Ray told Solomon's back. "I know how to take care of myself perfectly well."
Solomon made no reply, but Ray felt pretty sure the man didn't agree with him.
Author: misura
Fandom: Gorgeous Carat
Characters/Pairing: Solomon, Ray, hinted Ray/Florian
Challenge: May 2007 - balcony, color purple, a secret
XXXX: The balcony's hard to miss, the secret's the same old (and possibly not really a secret anymore) but with the color purple, I took a teensy liberty in 'translating' it to amethyst, which is (according to Ray) the colour of Florian's eyes, which Solomon comments on.
Warnings and Notes: *G* This theme seems to have been made for this fandom, considering this is the second fic in this fandom that got written for it. (I was trying for another fandom, but it just wouldn't work.)
"I really *am* surprised nobody's arrested you yet," said Ray.
Solomon looked slightly hurt - either at Ray's implication that he felt someone *should* arrest him, or at his failure to make it beyond the balcony unnoticedly. If truth be told, Ray didn't much care which it was, as long as Solomon would just hurry up and vanish.
"I could say the same, and with much more reason." Solomon straightened and tried to look as if he'd never not intended for Ray to find him. "Half of the newspapers are still raving about that little stunt you pulled at the Italian ambassador's wife's soiree last week, and the other half is busy speculating about your next heist."
Ray snorted and reached for his cigar-case, then realized he'd left it in the library. "I'm sure I have no idea whatsoever what you're talking about. People like me don't get invited to those kinds of parties - it'd spoil the mood. Don't tell me *you* were invited."
"I have earned a certain reputation over the years, you know," said Solomon, with a modesty that was so obviously fake that Ray was tempted to try and see if one good shove would knock him off the balcony.
"As that guy who's always running around and wildly accusing innocent people of being criminals?" Ray asked sarcastically. "It's something different, I suppose - a nice change from the usual topics of conversation. Politics and gossip must get boring after a while."
"As one of the best private investigators in Paris, not to say in France," Solomon corrected him.
"Not to say in the world?" Ray shook his head. "Really, Solomon, if you must be vain, at least make it sound good. I can't say I know any exact numbers, but I'd bet there's no more than, what, a dozen, private detectives in all of France - most of them guys that the police-force didn't want anymore, because they got too old, or because they just didn't know when to quit. Both of which also apply to you, now that I think about it."
"The head of the city police is nearly twice as old as I am," said Solomon.
"Fine, fine; you didn't get too old, you just got middle-aged."
"And you're old enough to be considered an adult for the law," said Solomon. "You're not some snotty brat of seventeen anymore, Ray, who could get away with stealing a string of pearls simply to prove he's smarter than the police."
"Middle-aged and boring." Ray crossed his arms over his chest. "It's always the same with you, isn't it?"
"If I'd have made it into your library and to your safe, would I have found the Italian ambassador's wife's necklace in it?"
"No," said Ray, quite truthfully. Even before he'd noticed Solomon sneaking around his house, he'd made sure that his official safe only ever contained items he had gotten by official or at least legal means. It was a reassurance to hear Solomon didn't know about the other safe - for all that Solomon wasn't half the big-shot detective he fancied himself to be, Ray didn't mistake him for a complete idiot; Solomon had an annoying habit of noticing all kinds of small things and *remembering* them.
"I don't believe you."
"Then why did you ask?" Ray inquired reasonably.
Solomon studied his fingernails. "I *might* believe you if you'd show me."
"Hah!" Oh, sure, Ray *could* agree to Solomon's not-so-subtle request - there was nothing to see, after all, nothing that would connect Ray with Noir. "Not damn likely." He could also give the man a key to his house and an open invitation to drop by any time he felt like it. "There's such a thing as privacy, you know. If you want to see the contents of my safe, you'll have to convince the police there's a good reason for it."
Solomon sighed. Ray refused to believe the man had ever thought Ray might agree - the fact that the only way Solomon could get into the house in the first place was by climbing onto the balcony should definitely have been a clue as to just how welcome he was.
"How's Florian?"
"Florian's fine," said Ray, more than a little suspicious at the sudden change in subject. "Laila's fine - still on her honeymoon, so not here. Noel's fine, too, I'm sure." He managed to shut his mouth before he added that Florian would know far better than he did how Noel was doing. He didn't think Florian would deliberately spill the beans on him, but, well, Florian could be a bit of an idiot.
"I only asked about Florian," Solomon pointed out. "Although I'm pleased to hear Laila and Noel are doing well for themselves, too."
"Humph." Ray had no intention of admitting he missed Laila, just a little. Not 'missed' as in 'found it hard to do without', he assured himself quickly - just 'missed' as in 'hadn't quite gotten used to not having her around yet'. The house was quieter, more peaceful without Laila around.
"So, how close is he to paying off his debt to you?"
"That's absolutely none of your business," Ray said quickly.
"Why, that rather sounds like I hit a nerve." Solomon's glasses glinted. "That close, is he?"
Ray clenched his teeth and refused to dignify that with an answer.
"Perhaps I should offer to help him out a bit," Solomon mused. "I might not be as rich as you are, but I'm not poor either. You're always complaining about what a burden he is to you; why don't you let me do both of you the favor of clearing his debt?"
"It's Florian's debt, and Florian's the one who's going to clear it." Florian was far too proud to even consider accepting anyone's help, anyway, Ray reassured himself. Solomon was just trying to get him riled up about nothing.
"He could clear it by telling me your secret," Solomon said. "That'd be worth quite a bit to me. He'd earn the money fair and square; it wouldn't be the kind of charity that he'd feel honor-bound to refuse."
"Florian wouldn't do something like that."
"Why not?" Solomon asked, spreading his hands in a gesture of innocent ignorance. "Enlighten me, Ray. You treat him like he's less than a servant, you constantly complain about him - but when I offer to take him off your hands from the goodness of my heart, you turn me down flat. Don't tell me it's just because he's got pretty eyes."
"You keep your hands off him, or I'll ... I'll ... " Ray slammed his fist against the wall, the faintly amused expression on Solomon's face not doing anything to improve his temper.
"I have no interest in Florian." Solomon snorted. "I like him; he's a lot more polite than you are, but that's all. Unlike you, I don't have any problems admitting I care about someone."
"What are you insinuating?" Ray demanded.
"I'm insinuating nothing." Solomon adjusted his glasses, sending Ray a sharp look. "I'm simply telling you, Ray, that if you keep on treating him the way you do, sooner or later, you'll lose him. I know that's not what you want, and I think you know that, too. Just admit to him that he's important to you."
"And that's going to make him stay?" Ray sneered. "You're a fool."
Solomon shrugged. "I certainly feel like one, thinking I'd be able to talk some sense into you. Oh, and you should get someone to look at your hand. Even if it's just bruised, it'll be a nuisance to try and pry open any locks with only one good hand. You should be more careful."
"I'm touched by your concern," Ray said sarcastically. Florian'd probably be in bed already - no matter; Ray'd simply wake him up and tell him to make himself useful for once. It was his fault Ray had gotten injured in the first place anyway; if Florian'd just be a little more submissive, Ray wouldn't have reacted to strongly to Solomon's baiting him with that ridiculous suggestion of his.
"Why do I even bother?" Solomon sighed.
"I'll let Laila know you asked about her," Ray said. Not Florian, he didn't think so - Ray had no intention of informing Florian just what comment of Solomon's had prompted him to injure his hand.
"Please do. And take care of yourself."
"I always do," Ray told Solomon's back. "I know how to take care of myself perfectly well."
Solomon made no reply, but Ray felt pretty sure the man didn't agree with him.