If You Can't Be With The One You
Love
by Blarney Stone
Rated NC-17
explicit m/m sex, language
spoilers for COTW
Alliance owns all due south
characters. No copyight infringement
intended.
***********************************
"Did you hear, Kowalski's coming
back," Jack Huey said, serving a wine
spritzer to Francesca and a Shirley
Temple to Turnbull. The comedy club
that he ran with his partner, Thomas
Dewey barely broke even every month
and the two cops often had to wait
tables. It was a good thing that
neither given up their day jobs with
the Chicago PD.
"Fraser too?" Francesca said
hopefully. Life hadn't been the same
since the mountie had decided to stay
in Canada after capturing his mother's
killer, Muldoon.
"I don't know. I just heard from Lt.
Welsh that Kowalski would be back at
his desk on Monday," Huey answered and
moved off to serve his other
customers.
Francesca turned to her companion.
"Have you heard anything about Fraser
coming back, Turnbull? Turnbull?"
The mountie had a far away look in his
eyes. "What? Oh no, Miss Vecchio. I
haven't heard a thing from Fraser
since he took the extended leave of
absence six months ago. If he were
returning to his duties at the
consulate, surely someone would have
mentioned it to me."
Francesca patted him on the arm.
"Don't worry Turnbull. You've been
doing a fine job as Deputy Liason
Officer. I don't think they're going
to replace you. Anyway, when Fraser
does return, he'll probably get a big
promotion for capturing Muldoon. Maybe
he'll get the dragonlady's old job.
That new guy just isn't working out."
"Do you really think I'm doing
a good job, Miss Vecchio? I've been
trying very hard to fill Fraser's
shoes, but something seems to be
missing," Turnbull sighed and
took a swig of his Shirley Temple. "I
just wish I knew what it was."
*********************
Ray Kowalski sat at his desk, his desk
not Vecchio's, and contemplated the
load of cases that Lt. Welsh had
greeted his return with. Actually,
they were a relief from the constant
flood of questions from his
co-workers. Yes, he had a good time
dogsledding through the Yukon with
Fraser; no, they didn't find the Hand
of Franklin; no, he didn't know when
or if Fraser planned to return to
Chicago; no, he wasn't going to hunt
Vecchio down and slit his thoat for
running off to Florida with his
ex-wife. Not that the last question
was relevant anymore. He had a
sneaking feeling that Stella was at
this very minute on a plane heading
for her mother's house, with a sordid
tale of how the slick italian Romeo
had done her wrong.
The sight of Francesca in her new
uniform, cheered him up for a moment.
Who would have imagined Francesca as a
cop? Not only a cop, but a hero as
well. She had made the papers for
rushing into a burning building and
recueing six small children from
certain death. Since their parents had
not survived the blaze, she had become
their foster mother for several months
until a family that was willing to
adopt al=l the children could be found.
Perching on the edge of his desk, she
picked up his name tag. "It's funny
seeing 'Ray Kowalski'. I'd pretty much
gotten use to thinking of you as Ray
Vecchio. A Ray Vecchio from an
alterate universe, of course."
"Of course. Look Frannie, I don't know
anything about whether or not Fraser's
coming back. But I wouldn't get my
hopes up if I were you," Ray
warned.
Frannie sniffed indignanty, "Do you
think that's the only reason I would
talk to you?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Well, you've got a problem with your
self-esteem then, Mister. I wasn't
even thinking about Fraser, all alone
in the wilderness. He is still all
alone, isn't he?"
Kowalski suddenly found himself very
absorbed in a case file. "I don't know
Frannie. He was by himself when we
said goodbye at Moosejaw. I can't say
what happened after that."
"Oh," Francesca said,
disappointed. "Well, you
should come over for dinner some time.
I know Ma would be happy to see you
again."
"Yeah, sure. Maybe I'll do that."
"I'll see you later then."
"Yeah, see ya Frannie." As Frannie
moved away, Kowalski exhaled in
relief. He most definetly didn't want
to be the one to tell her where Fraser
really was and what he was doing. He
turned his attention back to the case.
He might as well try to get some work
done.
"Excuse me, Detective Kowalski."
Ray look up and nearly freaked
when his eyes focused on the red serge
standing in front of his desk.
"Detective Kowalski, are you all
right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Turnbull, what've you
been up to lately?" Ray said lightly,
hoping to mask the wave of misery that
was washing over him.
"I've taken over Constable Fraser's
duties at the consulate. I've found it
very challenging. And I was in a
commercial; perhaps you've seen me."
"A commercial?"
"Yes, it was all so strange. I met,
ran into, well, fell over this
gentleman at the park. It turned out
he was directing a commercial for an
antacid. He thought I would be perfect
for the lead. The whole thing was
about a politician who was running for
office and got hit by his own campaign
bus. Can you imagine anything so
ridiculous?" Turnbull asked, laughing.
"Yeah, I mean, no. Sounds great
Turnbull. I haven't watched a lot of
tv lately, but I'll keep an eye out
for you. So why are you here?"
Turnbull pulled up a chair and sat
beside him. "I'm here about the
MacGregor case. I see you have it in
your hand. Winston MacGregor is wanted
in Canada for the murder of two
prominent businessmen."
Kowalski scowled, "It says here that
he has a sister in town. I can't
believe that he'd be stupid enough to
go there. That's the first place we'd
look for him."
"It's been my experience that the
criminal element is none to bright. I
think we should pay a visit to the
sister," Turnbull said
decisively.
"You're experience? What the hell kind
of experience do you have? And what do
you mean we should pay her a visit?
"
Turnbull stood up and put his hat on.
"I did say that I had assumed Fraser's
duties. Since MacGregor is wanted in
Canada; I've been assigned to help you
in your investigation."
"WHAT?!!? Lieutenant. ." Kowalski
rushed into the office of his
superior, Turnbull right behind him.
"Lieutenant, please tell me that I
don't have to work with Dudley
Doright's dimwitted brother on the
MacGregor case."
"Sorry Kowalski. It's a done deal. You
and Turnbull are gonna work this case
together. Think of him as Fraser only,
not." Lt Walsh waved them out of his
office.
Kowalski looked up into the smiling
face of Turnbull and stalked off
grumbling. "Come on, we don't have all
day."
**************************
Sitting in Kowalski's GTO, Turnbull
ran his hands over the leather seats.
"This is a fine car,
Detective."
"Yeah, I think so."
"You know Detective, I've always
preferred a smaller car myself. One
with a good, strong engine; able to go
the distance."
"The GTO may be small, but it's got
power," Ray revved the engine to prove
his point.
"Mmm, your motor sounds finely tuned,"
Turnbull said appreciately. "Do you
think I could drive it sometime?"
"Not a chance, Turnbull. I do the
driving."
"I assure you that I would be careful.
I wouldn't damage any of the
bodywork."
"Forget it. You Canadians don't know
how to drive. I let Fraser drive once
and it was a disaster."
"My technique is quite different from
Fraser's. I have been complimented on
a number of occasions for my skills in
the driver's seat."
"Look Turnbull. It's my car and I do
the driving. If you want to ride with
me you're going to have to accept
that."
Turnbull was silent for a moment, and
then said, "Don't you think our
relationship would be more enjoyable
if we took turns driving?"
"No, and we don't have a relationship.
This is temporary, so don't get
attached."
"If you say so," Turnbull agreed
reluctanty, "May I call you Ray?"
"No."
********
"Don't do anything to embarass me, " Ray warned as they stood at the
front door of Emmeline MacGregor.
"Oh I would never. . "
The door opened and a devastatingly beautiful woman, who bore more than a passing resemblance to Kim Basinger, regarded them suspiciously. Ray cast a glance over at Turnbull and saw him smiling politely.
"What can I do for you boys?" the beauty said in a throaty voice.
Ray flashed his badge , and said, "Chicago PD. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your brother."
She regarded Turnbull with a smoldering look;
starting at his legs and slowly working her way up. "You're not a
Chicago cop."
"No ma'am. My name is Constable Renfield Turnbull, RCMP. I've been assigned to assist the Chicago PD in locating your brother to question him about several crimes commited in Canada."
She shrugged, and stepped back, holding the door open for them, "Come on in."
Turnbull went in first and her eyes locked on his well-muscled backside. "Ask your questions, Constable." She lit a cigarette.
"That's not healthy, Miss MacGregor. Studies have proven that smoking causes severe medical problems," Turnbull gently scolded.
"Yeah, and it stinks too," Ray put in, even though he privately was glad for the smoke. At least it covered the scent of her cheap perfume.
"I like to live dangerously," she smiled at Turnbull and ignored Ray.
"Do you, Constable?"
"No, he doesn't," Ray practically snarled, "He Canadian. He doesn't even cross the street against the lights." Turnbull nodded his head in agreement. "Now, Ms MacGregor, have you heard from your brother recently?"
"No, I haven't, but then Winston and I have never been close." She turned away from Ray and Turnbull and bent down to pick up an ashtray.
You are so obvious, you cheap bimbo, Ray thought, checking Turnbull's reaction. He was still smiling politely.
Emmeline straightened up and favored Turnbull with a sly little smile. "Can I get you a drink?"
"Well, apple cider would be . ."
"He doesn't want a drink; he's on duty. Here's my card, if you hear from your brother call me."
Ray handed her his card and grabbed Turnbull by the arm and started dragging him towards the door.
****************
They drove in silence, Ray fuming and Turnbull puzzled.
"Detective Kowalski, if I've done something to offend you, I'm truly sorry," he offered.
"You're sorry? You're sorry? Here we are in the middle of trying to track down a murderer and you throw yourself at the guy's sister! That is so unprofessional. Fraser would have never done that," Ray accused.
Turnbull blinked several times and wondered if he had, once again, missed something vital. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember throwing myself at Miss MacGregor."
"Oh yeah, what about all that smoking is bad for you health crap? You don't consider that a come on?"
"No. I was only concerned for her health. After all, thousands of people die every year. ."
"Concern?! Concern, my ass!!!" Ray snapped.
Turnbull's face turned bright red, and he stuttered, 'Your, your what?"
"I don't want to talk about it anymore. Where the hell do you want me to take you?"
"The consulate. Inspecter Brisco will be excpecting a full report," Turnbull said quietly.
***************
Inspecter Brisco was an asshole, Ray decided moments after meeting the man. He wouldn't have thought that it was possible to like anyone less than the Ice Queen, but here he was being proved wrong, he mused, watching the short, balding man bitch at Turnbull.
"I'm extremely disappointed with you Turnbull. You should have been more forceful with the MacGregor woman. She must know something. She's probably trying to hide that murdering brother of hers."
"Alleged murdering brother, sir," Turnbull interjected.
"Don't interupt me, Constable," Brisco snarled. "If you want to keep your job as deputy liason officer, you had better start improving."
"Hey, ease up, tubby," Ray said, unable to keep quiet any longer. "If she did know anything about MacGregor's whereabouts, she wasn't going to tell us. I've set up a 24 surveilance around her house, if he shows up we'll get him."
Brisco rounded on Ray, "What did you call me? I suggest you watch your step Detective Kowalski. You don't want to cause an international incident."
"With Canada? Oh yeah, I'm shaking over that possiblity," Ray sneered.
"You wait right here. I'm going to give your Lt. Welsh a call," Brisco stomped off to his office.
'You do that, tubby," Ray smirked.
Turnbull ran after him. "Sir, sir! I'm sure he meant no disrespect. Americans often give people pet names. It's a sign of affection."
"Yeah, like stupid, anal retentive, paper pushing, pilsbury doughboy," Ray muttered to himself as they disappeared into Brisco's office. Morbid curiousity compelled him to have a peek inside. His jaw dropped to the floor at what he witnessed. Brisco had backed Turnbull up against a wall, and his hand was firmly placed on his butt.
"Sir, that highly inappropriate," Turnbull protested.
"Come now, Renfield. We've had this discussion before. If you're nice to me, I can do wonders for your career," Brisco leared, giving him a hard squeeze.
Turnbull winced, and said, "I think I've done very well on my own."
Brisco laughed viciously. "Oh you do? Well, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you are a bumbling, incompetent idiot and the only reason that I gave you this job was because I wanted you to suck my dick!"
"Oh that's it! That's really it," Ray growled, storming in. "You don't need Turnbull to suck your dick. Consideirng it's size, I think a hamster would do a better job."
"Get out! You've got no business barging into my private office!" Brisco screamed.
"Piss off, freak. Come on Tunbull, we're getting out of here."
Brisco caught hold of Turnbull's arm and held him in place. "You're not
going anywhere. That's an order."
"Get your hands off my mountie!" Ray hissed, and threw a punch at Brisco. The sickening crunch of his nose breaking followed and the little man collapsed onto the floor.
Looking from Brisco's body to Ray's bloody hand, Turnbull cried, "Oh dear!"
***************
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