One Two Punch: Fraser/Kowalski implied
One two.
Bam bam.
Right left.
And Fraser's big blue eyes staring at him past the bag he's holding like he's trying to figure Ray out, like there's gonna be some prize at the end of it if the problem gets solved; pat on the back from Welsh and free dry cleaning for a year, maybe. Only there won't be 'cos there's no problem, here. There's no case to be solved outside of Ray's fucked up head and the part where he forgot he was supposed to stop counting.
He was never a one before there was a two, is the thing. He was just Stanley Raymond Kowalski, son and brother and it was Ray who was one... or maybe Stella was one, maybe that was it. 'cos Ray never existed before Stella looked at him with those beautiful blue eyes of hers...
"Ray?"
"Not now, Fraser."
He shakes out his arms, gets back to pounding. Quick jab with the right and the weight's behind the left, like maybe he can hit the bag hard enough to knock some sense into a kid, twenty years ago, who created a whole new personality so he could be number two.
Bam bam.
He's dancing now, weaving like the bag's gonna go someplace only the rhythm's off.
It was a waltz they danced at their wedding, first dance and suddenly shy even though he knew they were good together, knew it right down to the heart of him, beating triple time -
one two three, one two three
- and -
"What the hell good is a law degree, Stella, if you can't even count to three, huh?"
- and -
"Give it a rest, Ray."
Give it a rest. A beat of silence, and it was back to two. Three was never even - he'd thought it was something they'd wanted, but it turned out Stella always knew what she wanted, all along. And it wasn't a family, it wasn't kids. Hell, it wasn't even Ray and the rests kept right on coming until it was more pause than music. You couldn't dance to it, that was for damned sure.
And how the hell can you be number two if there's no number one, huh?
So maybe he was back to Ray. So maybe he'd been back to Ray until he'd started noticing how Fraser smiled, and the way he licked his lip when he was nervous. Until he started noticing the beat. And he wasn't sure he could do this again but how the hell did you learn to stop counting?
Right left.
Bam bam.
One two.
Bam bam.
Right left.
And Fraser's big blue eyes staring at him past the bag he's holding like he's trying to figure Ray out, like there's gonna be some prize at the end of it if the problem gets solved; pat on the back from Welsh and free dry cleaning for a year, maybe. Only there won't be 'cos there's no problem, here. There's no case to be solved outside of Ray's fucked up head and the part where he forgot he was supposed to stop counting.
He was never a one before there was a two, is the thing. He was just Stanley Raymond Kowalski, son and brother and it was Ray who was one... or maybe Stella was one, maybe that was it. 'cos Ray never existed before Stella looked at him with those beautiful blue eyes of hers...
"Ray?"
"Not now, Fraser."
He shakes out his arms, gets back to pounding. Quick jab with the right and the weight's behind the left, like maybe he can hit the bag hard enough to knock some sense into a kid, twenty years ago, who created a whole new personality so he could be number two.
Bam bam.
He's dancing now, weaving like the bag's gonna go someplace only the rhythm's off.
It was a waltz they danced at their wedding, first dance and suddenly shy even though he knew they were good together, knew it right down to the heart of him, beating triple time -
one two three, one two three
- and -
"What the hell good is a law degree, Stella, if you can't even count to three, huh?"
- and -
"Give it a rest, Ray."
Give it a rest. A beat of silence, and it was back to two. Three was never even - he'd thought it was something they'd wanted, but it turned out Stella always knew what she wanted, all along. And it wasn't a family, it wasn't kids. Hell, it wasn't even Ray and the rests kept right on coming until it was more pause than music. You couldn't dance to it, that was for damned sure.
And how the hell can you be number two if there's no number one, huh?
So maybe he was back to Ray. So maybe he'd been back to Ray until he'd started noticing how Fraser smiled, and the way he licked his lip when he was nervous. Until he started noticing the beat. And he wasn't sure he could do this again but how the hell did you learn to stop counting?
Right left.
Bam bam.
One two.