For belmanoir
Number One - Whimsy/Reality
“Benny, not that I’m complaining or anything: but why are we here?” Ray Vecchio looked around himself with an expression of extreme distaste. The Chicago sewer system was not his first choice on any list, even in the best of circumstances.
The hottest day of the year so far? Most definitely not the best circumstances.
“I apologise, Ray, but I deemed the reports worthy to follow up. The fact that the robberies have all been happening very near to the section of sewer that’s currently closed off for repair work could be significant.”
“Whatever.” Ray gingerly stepped over a dried up pile of he-didn’t-wish-to-speculate and tried to keep up with the Mountie. They were currently wolfless, and Ray was really beginning to wish that he’d stayed up on the street with Diefenbaker. Seemed like the dumb animal was the only one with smarts out of the three of them.
“Ah, just as I suspected!”
“Who the hell are you?”
Ray cursed and grabbed his gun from the holster as he ran to catch up with Fraser, who had adopted a pose remarkably akin to parade rest in front of a hole hacked in the side of the sewer wall.
Skidding to a halt in front of the Mountie, who was in the middle of his Constable-Benton-Fraser spiel, Ray leveled his gun and yelled, “Chicago P.D!”
Squinting at the unexpected brightness on the other side of the hole, Ray took in what looked like a storage vault, filled with broken boxes, out of which spilled property deeds and insurance bonds, and a chagrined looking thief.
“I don’t believe this,” the thief groused as Ray cuffed and Mirandized him.
“I don’t believe you made us trek through the sewers,” Ray rejoined, pushing the man in the direction of the hole and the (eventual) exit from the sewers.
“Benny, not that I’m complaining or anything: but why are we here?” Ray Vecchio looked around himself with an expression of extreme distaste. The Chicago sewer system was not his first choice on any list, even in the best of circumstances.
The hottest day of the year so far? Most definitely not the best circumstances.
“I apologise, Ray, but I deemed the reports worthy to follow up. The fact that the robberies have all been happening very near to the section of sewer that’s currently closed off for repair work could be significant.”
“Whatever.” Ray gingerly stepped over a dried up pile of he-didn’t-wish-to-speculate and tried to keep up with the Mountie. They were currently wolfless, and Ray was really beginning to wish that he’d stayed up on the street with Diefenbaker. Seemed like the dumb animal was the only one with smarts out of the three of them.
“Ah, just as I suspected!”
“Who the hell are you?”
Ray cursed and grabbed his gun from the holster as he ran to catch up with Fraser, who had adopted a pose remarkably akin to parade rest in front of a hole hacked in the side of the sewer wall.
Skidding to a halt in front of the Mountie, who was in the middle of his Constable-Benton-Fraser spiel, Ray leveled his gun and yelled, “Chicago P.D!”
Squinting at the unexpected brightness on the other side of the hole, Ray took in what looked like a storage vault, filled with broken boxes, out of which spilled property deeds and insurance bonds, and a chagrined looking thief.
“I don’t believe this,” the thief groused as Ray cuffed and Mirandized him.
“I don’t believe you made us trek through the sewers,” Ray rejoined, pushing the man in the direction of the hole and the (eventual) exit from the sewers.