Fic: VI. Disseminated [PG] - Due South (Arch to the Sky)
Title: Disseminated
Fandom: Due South; Arch to the Sky
Pairing: Turnbull/Vecchio
Rating: PG
Words: 543
Timeline: Right after Out.
Summary: Rumors fly as everyone tries to adjust.
Prologue
I. • II. • III. • IV. • V. • VI. • VII.
Epilogue
"I heard she punched him in the nose."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Apparently he walked out of here with it bleeding all over his uniform. And he was crying."
"Sounds like him."
"I mean, Turnbull. Really? I always knew Turnbull was weird, but Vecchio?"
"Makes you wonder about Fraser, huh?"
"Fraser? No way that guy was queer."
"'Course he wasn't. But maybe Vecchio was looking for more than a replacement partner, if you know what I mean."
"I don't wanna know what you mean. God, that's sick."
"Isn't it? Here, gimme that, I'm hungry."
"Take it. Wish they'd get some better coffee around here. They expect me to deal with these punks running on nothing but this sludge?"
"Keep wishing. Maybe the resident fairies'll grant it."
"Kissing."
"No way."
"Really! Right on Vecchio's desk!"
"You're serious."
"Yep."
"He was not."
"Who asked you, Dewey?"
"I was there. He only threatened to kiss 'im. Thank God."
"Nice face, Tom."
"What? Nobody wants to see that. You ask me, I say they should keep that stuff to themselves. I don't care what they do, I just don't want it shoved in my face."
"You'll have the full force of my displeasure shoved in your face if you keep it up, Detective." Welsh appeared from nowhere. He was good at that. He leaned on Dewey's desk like he belonged on it, and looked at everyone gossiping like every canny high school teacher that ever caught them smoking. "All right, listen up."
It was called out. It wasn't a voice anyone could argue with.
"The gossip stops here. I know I can't stop you people from flapping your mouths, but at the very least, you're not going to do it here. You got a problem? Take it out of my precinct. I hear any more of this crap and I'll stand you in a corner like a bunch of little kids. You got me?"
Frannie hadn't let anyone in her door since their brother had left.
Ma cooked dinner with stiff shoulders, staring into the pot like it was a door to a scene a million miles away.
Maria had slammed herself against the front door, pressing on it with her back, like she could keep the devastation outside if she could only press hard enough.
When Tony got home, she'd yanked him into the bathroom and dumped the entire mess on him in one hushed go. She slapped his arm when all he had for an answer was a disbelieving snort, but even then, she pressed herself into his chest just to breathe while he held her up.
The kids knew something was wrong. They walked around like they were waiting for something bad to happen. Speaking up quietly, like they might set something off.
It all reminded Maria way too damn much of her childhood.
It was the quietest dinner the Vecchio household could remember having in a long, long time.
Ray's Mountie was quiet in the passenger seat.
Now and then Ren's nostrils would flare as he breathed. Just a little labored. Enough to go unnoticed by most people, but not Ray. Neat trick.
He glanced to his own hands on the steering wheel. Don't think it's gonna run away on you.
Fandom: Due South; Arch to the Sky
Pairing: Turnbull/Vecchio
Rating: PG
Words: 543
Timeline: Right after Out.
Summary: Rumors fly as everyone tries to adjust.
Prologue
I. • II. • III. • IV. • V. • VI. • VII.
Epilogue
"I heard she punched him in the nose."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Apparently he walked out of here with it bleeding all over his uniform. And he was crying."
"Sounds like him."
"I mean, Turnbull. Really? I always knew Turnbull was weird, but Vecchio?"
"Makes you wonder about Fraser, huh?"
"Fraser? No way that guy was queer."
"'Course he wasn't. But maybe Vecchio was looking for more than a replacement partner, if you know what I mean."
"I don't wanna know what you mean. God, that's sick."
"Isn't it? Here, gimme that, I'm hungry."
"Take it. Wish they'd get some better coffee around here. They expect me to deal with these punks running on nothing but this sludge?"
"Keep wishing. Maybe the resident fairies'll grant it."
"Kissing."
"No way."
"Really! Right on Vecchio's desk!"
"You're serious."
"Yep."
"He was not."
"Who asked you, Dewey?"
"I was there. He only threatened to kiss 'im. Thank God."
"Nice face, Tom."
"What? Nobody wants to see that. You ask me, I say they should keep that stuff to themselves. I don't care what they do, I just don't want it shoved in my face."
"You'll have the full force of my displeasure shoved in your face if you keep it up, Detective." Welsh appeared from nowhere. He was good at that. He leaned on Dewey's desk like he belonged on it, and looked at everyone gossiping like every canny high school teacher that ever caught them smoking. "All right, listen up."
It was called out. It wasn't a voice anyone could argue with.
"The gossip stops here. I know I can't stop you people from flapping your mouths, but at the very least, you're not going to do it here. You got a problem? Take it out of my precinct. I hear any more of this crap and I'll stand you in a corner like a bunch of little kids. You got me?"
Frannie hadn't let anyone in her door since their brother had left.
Ma cooked dinner with stiff shoulders, staring into the pot like it was a door to a scene a million miles away.
Maria had slammed herself against the front door, pressing on it with her back, like she could keep the devastation outside if she could only press hard enough.
When Tony got home, she'd yanked him into the bathroom and dumped the entire mess on him in one hushed go. She slapped his arm when all he had for an answer was a disbelieving snort, but even then, she pressed herself into his chest just to breathe while he held her up.
The kids knew something was wrong. They walked around like they were waiting for something bad to happen. Speaking up quietly, like they might set something off.
It all reminded Maria way too damn much of her childhood.
It was the quietest dinner the Vecchio household could remember having in a long, long time.
Ray's Mountie was quiet in the passenger seat.
Now and then Ren's nostrils would flare as he breathed. Just a little labored. Enough to go unnoticed by most people, but not Ray. Neat trick.
He glanced to his own hands on the steering wheel. Don't think it's gonna run away on you.