"That a friendship comes to an end does not negate the value or strength of that bond. Rather, it entails that two people have come as far as they can together and can let each other go without accusation or bitterness." (Source unknown)

Leftovers
by: M-A

Ray Vecchio sighed as he sipped at the hot dishwater that passed for coffee at the station house. He'd been looking forward to these days ever since the end of his undercover assignment was announced. Now, he wondered what he'd come home to. Not friendship, surely not.

The one thing that had kept him sane during his time undercover was the memory of his friendship with Benny. That was all he had to hang on to during the darkest days of his life. He longed to return home to Chicago and find his friend again and be able to confide in him once more.

Instead, he'd returned to Chicago to find a different Fraser, one whose friendship with Vecchio's replacement, Ray Kowalski, had brought some changes. Fraser was outgoing now, and snarky, even fun in a way he had never been. The changes suited his friend; Vecchio only wanted to be part of that change.

He watched Fraser and Kowalski for a long moment, envious of their complicity. The two had recently come back from spending three weeks on an adventure in the far north and it seemed that that time had cemented their friendship. Vecchio, trying to get back in synch with his old life, couldn't figure out where he fit into the dynamic of Fraser and Kowalski's relationship.

He was surprised that he wasn't jealous of Kowalski, only of the time he got with Fraser that Vecchio didn't. And it wasn't that Benny was unkind or unpleasant with Vecchio. Oh no. He still claimed to be Vecchio's friend, still claimed that he held that friendship dear. But Vecchio could see that things had changed. Plans were made with Kowalski first and Vecchio was rarely invited along. If he was, it was because Fraser and Kowalski needed an extra goalie or a lift because the GTO was in the shop or, perhaps, Vecchio thought uncharitably, because Fraser was feeling guilty.

Vecchio found that it became harder and harder to talk to Benny, feeling more like a burden than a friend as the weeks passed and his return to Chicago was no longer a novelty.

This day, he watched Kowalski and Fraser make plans for the weekend, knowing that Vecchio could hear them, knowing that Vecchio had no plans, knowing that Vecchio would have loved to join them, and never, Vecchio was sure of this, intending to hurt him.

There had been a time, early in his return, when Vecchio would have invited himself, had invited himself. But that time was long past. Sometimes, you just had to know when to quit.

He took another look at the official letter in his hand, rereading it once, then twice, considering. He loved police work, but there was only so much time left until someone he'd met undercover and betrayed demanded payback or a bullet found its way a little lower. He was only forty and he felt that one stage of his life had ended. Maybe it was time to start over. The letter was a sign.

His uncle Salvatore had recently passed away and left Ray, his favourite nephew, his bowling alley in Florida, near Key West, for Ray to do with as he pleased. Vecchio thought of Florida and sunshine in Stella's hair, and how she could help him handle the legal side of things. Uncle Salvatore had probably not meant for Ray to keep the bowling alley running himself, had probably expected his nephew to sell it, but Ray decided to throw caution to the wind.

Fraser and Kowalski came into the lunch room, then, to get coffee. They gave Vecchio a cursory hello, but Vecchio no longer cared. Sometimes, when it got to the point where you felt like a leftover, you just had to let some things go to let other things in.

Fin.