Answer to the May Serge "Sentence" Challenge

by MR

The driving, pounding rhythm echoed out of the nightclub into to the street, to be felt from where I stood on the sidewalk. Smoothing my hands across my black denim encased hips, and making one last quick adjustment to my black leather jacket, I walked up to the bouncer guarding the door to the private nightclub. I held up my member’s card and was waved inside. Standing at the edge of the dance floor, flooded with a sea of writhing, sweating man-flesh, I cracked my neck once before wading into the throng.

I must confess that I've never been able to understand how people can dance to music that's this loud. I find it almost painful. Dief refused to get any closer than across the street, despite my pointing out to him several times that he's supposed to be stone deaf, so I failed to see how the music could bother him. He just looked at me and mumbled something about being able to 'feel the beat' in his head.

Angry with myself, I shake the distraction from my mind. I am not here to woolgather. I'm here on a mission of mercy.

I've come to rescue Ray.

When Ray and I first found ourselves assigned to the Baccardi case by Lt. Welsh, we had no idea it was going to turn our lives upside down. Eddie Baccardi simply needed to be kept alive so he could testify against Franco Vanisante at the upcoming racketeering trial, because then Vanisante, who's apparently been a thorn in the side of the Chicago PD for years, would be guaranteed a minimum of life in prison. And no one, Ray said, was going to mourn him once he was gone, though he could think of a few lifers at Joliet who'd be more than glad to make him their bitch.

No, the problem was that nobody had bothered to apprise us of Mr. Baccardi's sexual preferences. Which shouldn't have made any difference, if not for the fact that he took one look at Ray and decided he didn't dislike the police half as much as he’d thought he did.

That was three weeks ago. Since then, Eddie has pawed, fondled, and, to quote Ray, "spindled and mutilated" him. The fact that Ray told him repeatedly he was not interested in no way cooled his ardor. The fact that Ray told him he was already involved with someone hadn't kept him from pinching his ass every chance he got.

And the fact that Ray couldn't tell him I'm the man he's involved with had drawn me perilously close to pushing Mr. Baccardi into oncoming traffic.

I wasn't prepared for how possessive I felt towards Ray, doubtless because we'd never met anyone who posed any threat to our, of necessity, hush-hush relationship. Mr. Baccardi had spent the last three weeks making Ray miserable, while I plumbed the depths of my soul and found the same beast inside me that is in all who love.

Tonight...well, tonight I was going to put paid to Mr. Baccardi and assert my property rights in one fell swoop. The trial had ended this afternoon with a conviction and two life-sentences to be served consecutively, so the kid gloves were off. Eddie had insisted that he and Ray go out together "one last time." "Alone," he'd added, looking suspiciously at me. I'd very nearly taken his head off then, but Ray had calmed me down, saying that he didn't want to get in trouble with the Leftenant, and that Baccardi could still make things hot for us if we didn't play nice just a little longer.

Mr. Baccardi didn't know it, but his time was officially up.

It took me a while to find Ray, what with the crush of bodies and the necessity of turning down invitations to "come over to my place for a drink later" from more patrons than I cared to count. When I finally did locate him, I stood a minute and watched him dance. I love to watch Ray dance almost as much as I love dancing with him, but it was interesting to see how he used the density of the crowd to keep Eddie from getting too close. Not that Eddie wasn't trying; I had this feeling that unless I intervened quickly, he was simply going to tackle Ray and go for it right there on the floor.

Abandoning any pretense of politeness, I pushed my way through until I managed to position myself between Ray and Eddie. It took Ray, who was "lost in the beat," as he's fond of saying, a minute to notice me. Eddie noticed me almost immediately.

"Jesus, Kowalski, what is it with you and the Mountie? You two attached at the hip or something?"

Ray opened his eyes and found himself staring at my back. "Fraser?"

"Hello, Ray," I said, not bothering to turn around. "Don't you think it's time for Mr. Baccardi to go home? Alone." I emphasized the last word. Ray told me later that I snarled it, but I find that difficult to believe.

Apparently something must've shown on my face, because Eddie took a step backwards. "Listen, Dudley, in case you haven't noticed, Kowalski's a big boy now, okay? I think he can find his own way home."

That did it. I backed Mr. Baccardi up against the nearest available pillar and took hold of his jacket collar, pulling him as close to my face as I could. "Ascoltate, parte piccola grassa della trippa italiana! Ho passare tre settimane che tengono la mia linguetta mentre avete fatto tutto bruscamente di colza del mio socio! Il caso ora è chiuso, il raggio ed io non sono più in servizio e voi, il signore, necessità di trovare qualcuno per giocare con chi è interessato in tal modo!"

Ray says I looked quite impressive during this speech, especially as I loom over Mr. Baccardi by a good three inches.

Eddie was sputtering like a fish who'd been yanked out of the river too fast, but I decided I'd made my point sufficiently. Besides, the music was beginning to give me a headache. So I eased him back down to the floor and turned to Ray. "Are you ready to leave?"

Ray was laughing so hard he couldn't speak, but I took the way his head was bobbing frantically to mean yes. Giving Eddie Baccardi one last withering stare, I took hold of Ray's arm and retraced my path through the crowd, trying to ignore the young men who looked first at Ray, then at me, then slapped me on the arm and said, "Sweet, dude!"

Outside the club, I found myself leaning gratefully against the wall, letting the cool night air fill my lungs. Ray had finally calmed down, though ever so often, he'd glance at me sideways and chuckle. "So." He finally said. "Guess you were as fed up with him as I was?"

I nodded, grateful that the pounding in my head was beginning to fade. "I realize I was a bit extreme, Ray. It wasn't my intention to embarrass you."

"Hey, did I say you embarrassed me?" I shook my head. "Truth to tell, it was kinda a turn-on." I looked at his face, then my eyes slid down his body to the front of his jeans.

"Oh my."

"Yep, all yours." He took hold of my hand and tugged me away from the wall. "Let's go home where things are a bit more private, huh?"

I nodded, still unable to take my eyes off his jeans. "It's going to be rather pleasant to sleep in our own bed again, isn’t it?"

"Did I say we were gonna be sleeping?" I shook my head. “You gonna tell me what you said to him?”

“Later.”

“Cool.”

FIN

# Translation of Fraser’s threat: "Listen, you greasy little piece of Italian tripe! I've spent three weeks holding my tongue while you've done everything short of raping my partner! The case is now closed, Ray and I are no longer on duty, and you, sir, need to find someone to play with who's interested in doing so!"

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