Rating: PG (slash)
Pairing: Zuko/Vecchio
Category: poem
Disclaimer: The characters used in the following story are not mine. I do not make any money out of this. It's written for fun and for the fans of the show.
Feedback: birgitt.schuknecht@uni-essen.de
Spoilers: The Deal
Teaser: Frank Zuko discovers that his feelings for Ray have truly changed. Haven't they?
Author's Note: This little piece was written for the July challenge of
the ficwrite list (onelist). (Thanks for the inspiration, Karen
Manetta.) It was fun writing it, and I hope you enjoy the read. Feedback
would be greatly appreciated. It's a Due South story, and may fit
anywhere in the time line of the first two seasons. Standard disclaimers
apply. These characters do not belong to me. Rated: PG-13. Thank you
kindly for reading this.
July 1999.
Challenge rules:
"Write a story using the following five words:
1) Star Wars
2) bleach
3) Presidential
4) filter
5) referee
Any fandom, any characters. The key is trying to stay under 750 words
for serious stuff, 500 words for humor."
They Are Among Us
by Birgitt Schuknecht
"Benny, this isn't Star Wars or Independence Day, it's real life. And I
have to deal with it." Detective Ray Vecchio of Chicago PD sounded at
least as tired as he looked.
His unofficial partner, Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP, was sympathising,
but nevertheless merciless, when he made clear: "Actually, Ray, it is
Independence Day."
Ray rolled his eyes heavenwards: "And what good does this holiday to me?
This is creepy! Four victims in only two days. Look at the cases: No
clues whatsoever! Any age group, even a child, barely a teenager.
Murdered for no obvious reasons." Ray gave a small shudder, looking even
worse then a few minutes before. "Then we have a perfectly normal
housewife, killed on the steps of her own apartment, a pro soccer
referee found in an alley only two blocks from here and a wealthy
businessmen murdered in the presidential suite of Chicago's finest
hotel."
"So your only clue is the fact that all victims were visibly maimed,
before the attack. Each of them had clearly visible bandaged limbs,"
Fraser pleaded with his friend. Ray slowly nodded. "And that fits with
the story Markus Garell tells for several days in my neighbourhood. He
warns against extraterrestrial infiltration and is convinced that aliens
enter the bodies of the human population."
"So?" Fraser was not discouraged. "Garell is convinced that they are not
used to living in human bodies. In consequence they suffer accidents
frequently."
Ray stared at his friend: "Are you telling me, Benny, that this creep
believes everyone who bumps his head is infiltrated by an alien
lifeform?"
Fraser nodded: "He made that quite clear."
"And you think he turned killer?"
"It's not important what I think. It's possible and you should check it.
There are no other clues."
"All right, Benny, this is crazy, but I've got nothing to lose here.
I'll get the machinery going. "
Two hours later the two friends witnessed the how Garell was arrested
for murder. When they came for him, he surrendered without resistance
and spilled his testimony. He ended with yelling, "I had to stop them.
They're among us."
Ray was relieved that the nightmare was over: "He doesn't look like a
creep, let alone a killer." Garell was very young, barely 25 years old.
But his hair was completely white, as if it was bleached. It gleamed in
the sun, filtering through the window of his apartment.
"Ray, if criminals..." Fraser was interrupted by Ray's impatient
gesture.
"I know, Benny, I know. But he sure is too young to end like this."
"He will be much older when he's out of medical treatment."
"Benny, you're so polite and nice most of the time. But when you say
things like this, I am sure that there is also something dark in you."
"Ray, I wanted only to state the fact that he will be treated
appropriately in psychiatry."
"I know, Benny, I understood you perfectly."
The friends spent the evening together at the Vecchio home. Mrs. Vecchio
was busy in the kitchen with preparations for dinner on a grand scale.
She'd seen the exhaustion of her spent son and reacted in her normal
manner. He would feel better after having some home-made pasta. Ray had
turned on the TV waiting that dinner would be ready.
"Basketball," muttered the Mountie and left for the kitchen, offering
his help, which was heartily accepted.
When the door bell rang, it was Ray who opened the door. And couldn't
believe what he saw. Dark guy, wearing dark glasses and a dark suit. But
the most unusual about him was a bunch of forget-me-nots he held in his
hands.
"Ray Vecchio?"
The stunned detective nodded: "What is that? Are Fed budgets so tight,
that you guys are expanding into flower delivery? Where's your
obligatory partner?"
"These are for you." His visitor handed over the flowers and was gone
the next moment.
Then the phone rang. Ray snapped out of his shock and picked it up:
"Vecchio." His voice trembled slightly.
"Did you get the flowers? We just wanted to let you know: WE ARE AMONG
YOU!" And the phone went dead.
"Beennnyy!" Hearing Ray's panicked yell both the Mountie and Mrs.
Vecchio raced to him.
"What is it?" Fraser stared at the flowers in his left hand, the
receiver still in his right.
Mrs. Vecchio supplied: "You look as if you saw a ghost, caro!"
Ray was close to tears: "This isn't Independence Day. It's surely
Halloween!"
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