"Well, hey there, Alderman Orsini. Long time no see!" Kowalski sneered. "I would have thought you would still be in jail for fraud and a few other delightful charges."
Orsini straightened his jacket and answered, "You know perfectly well that the governor gave me a full pardon. He understood that there was extenuating circumstances."
"Extenuating circumstances! Why you bastar-"
Vecchio yanked his partner out of the politician's face. "Let's talk about this somewhere private, shall we?" He pointed to the office that he had comandeered.
"Of course." Holding his head high, Orsini started off.
"Putz," Kowalski muttered.
*****
"So, Orsini who was the chick that you hired to take a shot at you?" said Kowalski as he perched on the side of a desk.
"How dare you?" Orsini bellowed, sweat covering his brow.
Vecchio stood behind him, his hands resting on the back of his chair. "Come off it, Orsini. We know that you hired someone to take a shot at you during your last campaign to get voter sympathy. It's your m. o."
"I was a troubled man. Since then, I've found the love of a good woman and it's changed me," Orsini declared.
"Oh yeah, I've seen the new missus. Remind me to buy stock in Viagra," Kowalski snorted.
"You have no right-"
Vecchio cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. In a quiet deadly voice, he said, "An officer was shot. He's in a coma; the doctors don't know if he's going to pull through. If he doesn't make it, a big fat target gets glued to your ass and every cop in this city is gonna be gunning for it. Do you understand me?"
Orsini let out a sob. "I swear, I had nothing to do with it. I've never seen that woman before. Besides, she was firing real bullets. I would never have let her fire real bullets at me, if I had put her up to it."
Vecchio nodded slightly. "That makes sense."
"What?!" Kowalski shouted. "Maybe she accidently put real bullets in; maybe she decided to really blow his fucking head off. Who knows? You're not gonna worm your way out of this one; you hear me, Orsini?"
Desperately, he turned to Vecchio and pleaded, "You have to believe me! I'm innocent." He pointed to Kowalski. "He has it in for me. I slept with his wife."
"Ex-wife," Kowalski interjected.
"Oh, you slept with Stella?" Vecchio answered. "Well, so what?! I slept with her too. Half of Chicago's slept with Stella!"
"Hey!"
"Uh sorry," Vecchio said sheepishly. He yanked open the office door and said to the uniformed cop, "Take him downtown. Put him in a cell."
"No, no, please," Orsini begged as he was led away.
After he was gone, Vecchio turned to Kowalski and said, "I don't think he had anything to do with it."
"So why are we taking him in?"
"Because he's an asshole, Stanley. Haven't you been paying attention? Well, that leaves us with a mystery woman, and the only one who got a good, up close look at her is in no condition to help us," Vecchio sighed, holding open the door for his partner.
"She should get a medal for trying to plug that weasel," Kowalski commented.
"I'm with you on that, but this mystery chick shot a cop, and for that, she's going down."
********
Ray Vecchio stood in the doorway of Officer Ricky Caruso's hospital room. The wounded cop lay in a coma in his bed, attended by a nurse, a very concerned nurse, who stroked his face with tender loving care. Vecchio cleared his throat, and the slim, dark haired man looked up in surprise. Vecchio was struck by the nurse's curious golden eyes.
"Excuse me," the detective said, "i just wanted to check on the condition of Officer Caruso."
The nurse, who's name tag identified him as Martin Corley, frowned sadly. "He's still in a coma, I'm afraid. Right now, all we can do is wait and see."
Vecchio regarded the fallen cop. Caruso had caused quite a comotion among the women, and some of the men, when he had transferred to the precinct from some hick town out of state. Even now, with his face deathly pale, he was quite a looker; brown hair, muscled body, and a face like an angel (always trouble). No wonder Nurse Corley was practically drooling over him.
Just wait till the boy wakes up and hits you with those dazzling green eyes, Vecchio thought. He knew from his own experience that the right look from a pair of green eyes could reduce a grown man to a puddle of melted jello. So lost was he in his own thoughts, that he didn't notice that Nurse Corley was speaking again.
"--I don't care what the reason was, the person who did this horrible thing should be punished to the full extent of the law," he said bitterly.
"I'm with you there, pal. When we find the chick who did this, she's gonna spend the next 20 years contemplating the error of her ways," Vecchio answered firmly. His cell phone rang and he pulled it out. "Vecchio,"
"We've got a witness who swears he got a good look at the shooter," the voice of his sister informed him.
"I'm on my way."
*********
In interrogation room #2, Vecchio sat by one Mr. Ed Bert, while Kowalski paced the lloor, radiating an overload of nervous energy. Francesca came in bringing coffee for Mr. Bert. Without an invitation, she sat down across the table from the witness.
"Okay Pops, tell us what you saw," she began.
"Do you mind?" Kowalski said, leaning down to eye level with her.
"Sorry, go right ahead, Stanley," she answered, leaning back in her chair.
"Okay, tell us what you saw. . Pops," Kowalski demanded.
"Well now, I was trying to get close enough to Mr. Orsini to shake his hand, he's a great man, you know," the gnarled old gentleman said.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get back to the story," Frannie encouraged. Kowalski shot her a hostile look.
Vecchio smirked. He got a kick out of watching the two of them together. They must have been a riot with their 'sibling' fights when he was undercover.
"Please continue, Mr. Bert," he asked smiling.
"Like I was saying, I was trying to get close enough for a handshake, but there was this woman in front of me and she wouldn't move. She was a tall, skinny thing with long black hair. She was wearing a black dress; no it was a skirt not a dress. Kinda looked like what the gals wore back after WWII," he smiled fondly, "Oh those the days, let me tell you. . "
"Did you get a look at her face?" Kowalski interupted.
"Why no. I just saw her from behind."
Kowalsk dropped his head, closed his eyes and counted to ten. Didn't work. "Then why the hell are you wasting our time, you old geezer?! I've got a dozen people who could tell me that much."
The elderly man glared at him. "Because, you young punk, I've got a piece of information that none of the others will be able to give you."
"And that would be?"
"That woman wasn't a woman. It was a man!" Mr. Bert folded his arms across his chest in smug satisfaction.
"A cross-dresser?" Vecchio sat up quickly. "How do you know?"
"I'm 78 years old; I can tell the difference between a man and a woman. This one had a way of walking." He glanced shyly at Frannie before continuing. "You know, like his equipment was bunched up too tight. Pardon me ma'am."
"That's a thought," Kowalski mused, scratching his stubbly chin. "Orsini's been trying to get a club for transvestites shut down. He says it's indecent. What's the name of it?"
"Chicks With Dicks," Frannie put in calmly.
Vecchio snorted. "Hey, truth in advertising."
"It's not too bad," his sister assured him, "Mostly people go there, hang out, have a few drinks, maybe meet someone nice. It's not like they're having sex on the tables or anything."
Kowalski turned narrowed eyes on her. "And how do you know about it?"
Francesca flashed him an electric smile. "Why, I went in there once when my car broke down. Everyone was very nice to me. Turnbull happened to be there and he gave me a ride home." She twisted slightly, while crossing her legs and gave Kowalski a brief view up the side of her skirt.
Vecchio surpressed a growl at the sound of the Mountie who was dating Frannie. This was not a relationship that was going to get his seal of approval.
"Let's pull ourselves away from the Adventures of Frannie for a moment, shall we? So, you're positive, Mr. Bert, that the shooter was a man?"
"Yep!"
Vecchio stood up. "Thanks for coming down. If we need anything else from you, we'll let you know." He walked the old man to the door.
After showing Mr. Bert out, Vecchio turned around to the others. Kowalski was eyeing Frannie speculatively, and she was smiling sweetly back at him. Oh brother, he thought.
"I think we need to go down to that club-" he began.
"Chicks With Dicks," Frannie interupted, with a raised eyebrow for Kowalski.
"Enough, Frannie! Let's go down there, Stanley and see if anybody knows anything."
"Do you want me to come with you? I can introduce you. . "
Vecchio cut her off with a glare. "C'mon partner." He stormed out, dragging a reluctant Kowalski, who was still staring at Francesca.
*****
Chicks With Dicks was not the sleazoid hangout that he had assumed, Kowalski realized. It was brightly lit, cheerfully decotrated with cozy tables, and filled with men, many of whom were dressed, some more successfuly than others, as women. He and Vecchio made their way to the bar, where an attractive red head was mixing a martini.
"Hello Officers! What can I do for you," she asked.
"How did you know we were cops?" Kowalski questioned.
She looked him up and down, and smiled, "Just a lucky guess." Vecchio pulled out his ID and showed it to her. "Are you any relationship to Francesca Vecchio?" she asked. "She gave me an absolutely fabulous makeover. That girl has a real talent for it, if you know what I mean!"
"No, explain it to us," Kowalski requested, leaning forward.
Vecchio pushed him back. "Lay off, Stanley," to the bartender, he said, "We're here investigating the attempted shooting of Bob Orsini."
At the mention of the politician's name, several of the patrons turned hostile eyes toward the cops and began muttering.
Vecchio looked around and said loudly, "Okay, so most of you have no love for Orsini. Well, to tell you the truth, I wouldn't have shed any tears if he were pushing up daisies now, either. But whoever was trying to take him out, got a cop instead. That makes this person priority one with every cop in Chicago. Some of them aren't gonna care whether he's brought in dead or alive. If you know anything, you'd be doing the shooter a favor by telling us now."
A large, bulky man, wearing a green silk dress, stepped forward. "Why are you assuming it was one of us that did it? Orsini had a lot of enemies."
"We know that," Kowalski interjected. "I hated him myself, but a witness has pointed out that the shooter may have been a man dressed as a woman."
The man in green shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Listen, last week, a woman, I mean, a _woman_, was found in the back alley with her neck broken. Her name was Christina,. . I can't recall her last name. Anyway, she was Orsini's secretary. I remember reading that in the paper, and thinking that he'd sent her down here to spy on us, only that wouldn't make any sense. You can always tell a woman from a man. Of course, Orsini may not have known that."
"You think there's a connection to the shooting?"Vecchio prompted.
"The secretary was 3 months pregnant. She was also tall, and blonde, just Orsini's type. It wouldn't do at all for Mr. Morality to get caught knocking up his secretary.That's all I'm saying," he glared at the cops. "Oh yes, one more thing, she was survived by an older brother, according to the papers." Vecchio and Kowalski looked at each other thoughtfully.
*****
Later that evening, Kowalski unlocked his apartment door and held it open for his partner.
"So, you think maybe it was the brother dressed like a woman?" he asked.
Vecchio shrugged, took off his jacket and threw it on the couch.
"Maybe it was just a red herring, and they're trying to keep us away from the real shooter?"
Without a word, Vecchio disappeared into the bedroom.
"I don't know, my partner Ray," Kowalski said to himself. "There are so many possibilities, but it's very clever of you to suggest it. Why don't we have a beer and talk about it." He took his holster off and hung it up, then answered himself. "Okay Ray, let's have a beer, and order pizza, then we could have sex in my bed for a change, instead of the floor, and pretend that we actually like each other."
A hand clamped down on his shoulder and whirled him around. Kowalski's eyes widened at the fury in Vecchio's face, and at the tube of lubricant in his hand.
"You stay away from my sister, you hear me, Kowalski?" Vecchio hissed.
"I didn't do anything to Frannie. She was playing games with me!" Kowalski protested innocently.
Vecchio grabbed his arm and jerked him along until they reached the couch. With rough hands, he unsnapped Kowalski's pants and yanked them and his boxerbrief's down to his ankles.
"You think she's a guy, don't you?" he demanded
Kowalski's breath was coming in short gasps, as his large, purple erection rubbed against the angry italian's suit. "I don't --" Vecchio jerked him around and shoved him over the back of the couch; his ass lifted into an easy to access positon. "So much for foreplay!" he muttered.
"I'm gonna fuck you hard, long and rough, just the way you like it. Even if Frannie was a man, that's something she would never do for you," Vecchio snarled. He squirted a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and jammed them into Kowalski's asshole, who squeaked in surprise.
Anger and lust blurring his vision; Vecchio grabbed his partner's sweating ass, and rammed his dick in to the tight passage. On some level, he was aware of Kowalski's cry of pleasure/pain, but all he could think about was being deep inside this man, who was the most annoying person that he had ever met; of making him stay away from Frannie; of making him obey.
The next thing he knew, he was up to his hilt in Kowalski's ass. The younger man was trembling and his spikey blond hair was soaked with sweat. Good, Vecchio thought, good.
"This is what you want, Stanley, what you were made for," he growled, as he began to hammer Kowalski's asshole. "You love to be fucked. Francesca loves to be fucked. You see the problem don't you? "
"ray, ray, ray!"
"DON'T YOU?!" Wham, Wham, WHAM!!
"yes ray, please!!"
"Good boy," he whispered, and focused all his attention on thrusting. Time slowed; the universe narrowed until the only things that existed were Kowalski's whimpers, his dick and the warm, slick chute that he worked it in and out of.
Kowalski shuddered as he came; the muscles in his asshole squeezing Vecchio unmercifully. He groaned deeply, and released in long, agonizingly good spurts.
It was over. Vecchio backed away from his lover, and adjusted his clothing. He was tired, he just wanted to go home. "See ya tomorrow, Stanley," he said. collecting his jacket and heading for the door.
Kowalski slid off the back of the couch and reached down to pull up his pants. When the door slammed behind Vecchio, he sank to the floor.
This thing between them had always been fun. No strings, no emotional crap, just good old healthy sex. But now, he realized he wanted more. Love maybe? Ray Kowalski knew in his heart that he would never love Vecchio, and that Vecchio would never love him. This was merely buddy-fucking, fantastic, mind-blowing buddy-fucking, granted, but not anything serious. Sooner or later, he was going to have to work up the courage to go out and find a 'meaningful relationship'. The clock was ticking on the Ray/Ray Brotherhood.
*************
A warm, wet tongue traced a pattern down his back. Kowalski wriggled sensually. "More!" he demanded. The tongue had reached his pale, white ass and greedily licked his skinny, round cheeks. "Fuck me!" he ordered. A finger pushed inside his passage. It was a small finger; much smaller than Vecchio's.
His muscles clamped down and he began to ride it. "Another one!!" he shouted. Sure enough, another unsettlingly small finger joined the first. Both then started a rhythm of thrusting and massaging. "Mmmmmm," he crooned. He gripped the sheets in his sweaty hands and worked his ass against the invading digits.
"Your dick, now!" he moaned. A third finger entered his asshole. Nice, but not what he wanted. He was ready to fucked hard and mercilessly, the way Vecchio did when he was riled up. "Come on, don't you have a dick?" he gasped.
He twisted his head around and Francesca smiled down at him from her positon hovering over his butt.
Ray Kowalski woke up screaming. He looked around desperately. No Frannie. Sighing in relief, he lay back down, reached under the sheet and grabbed his throbbing rod.
Naturally, the phone rang. With a heartfelt groan, he picked it up.
"What?!" he growled.
"And a bright and happy good morning to you too, Stanley," Vecchio's smug voice answered.
"What do you want?"
"Meet me at the hospital, I've got a break in the case." Vecchio waited for a response. "You with me, Stanley?"
"What! Yeah."
"Are you jacking off?"
"No..yeah"
Vecchio laughed, "You're so predictable. Want some help?" he offered.
"Where are you?"
"Stuck in traffic. So, are you naked?" "Yeah."
"Is Little Stanley all big and purple?" Kowalski looked under the sheet. "Yeah."
"That's good, Stanley. Close your eyes and do what Uncle Ray says."
"Okay, Uncle Ray."
"Good boy. Now wrap your hands around it. Look at that! It's huge. I wish I were there, 'cause I think it needs to be licked. Pump it, Stanley, can you do that for me?"
Groans and gasps. "Yes, Uncle Ray!"
"Work it, Stanley. C'mon baby, c'mon! That's good! Oh yeah! Do you wish I was with you, Stanley?"
"Yes, Yes!!!"
"Tell me you wish my stick was in you ass right now!"
"Yes, Uncle Ray!"
"Cum for me, baby! I love it when you get all sticky!"
Unintelligible moans and screams filled his Vecchio's ear. "Are you done?"
"Yes."
"Good. Jump in the shower, then get over to the hospital." He started to hang up , then added. "You owe me a blowjob, and I will be collecting."
*********
Officer Ricky Caruso lay still as a dead man in his hospital bed. Nurse Martin Corley smoothed the blankets over him, a tear running down his face.
"Any change?" Vecchio's voice breaking the silence.
Corley straightened up, then turned around to face the two detectives. "I'm afraid so. It could be weeks before he comes out of it, if he ever does."
"That's a real shame," Kowalski commented, shaking his head. "He's a good cop, who was only trying to do his duty. He doesn't deserve this."
Nurse Corley picked up a pitcher from the nightstand and began to water the many plants in the room. "No, he doesn't" he agreed.
Vecchio walked around to the other side of the bed and put a hand on Caruso's cheek. "Even if a person had a very good reason for wanting to wack Orsini, still.. " he trailed off, shrugging.
Kowalski reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a picture and showed it to Corley. "This is you sister, Christina Corley, isn't it?"
"Yes," he answered numbly.
"She was found dead outside of a club called Chicks with Dicks, right?" Corley nodded and Kowalski continued. "Have you ever been to that club?"
"Yes," Corley sighed.
"Was Christina coming to see you the night she was murdered?" Kowalski questioned.
Corley gazed into Vecchio's sympathetic green eyes. "I guess," he answered.
"You better tell us, Martin. It'll make it easier on you in the end," Vecchio encouraged.
Corley regarded the unconcious policeman. "I didn't mean to shoot him. It was an accident. We were struggling for the gun and it went off." He looked from one cop to the other. "You do believe me don't you?" he implored.
"We believe you," Vecchio assured him."You just wanted Orsini."
Corley sank down into a chair by the bed. "Christina was in love withi him, God knows why. They'd been seeing each other for months. She told me that he was going to leave his wife; that they were going to get married." Kowalski and Vecchio exchanged knowing looks. "Yes, I know it was foolish of her," Corley agreed. "But love makes fools of us all. Well, Orsini's wife found out and told him to end it or she'd tell the press and ruin his career. He met with Christina the day before she died to break up with her. That's when she told him she was pregnant. He ordered her to have an abortion. She said no, and they had a huge fight. The last time I heard from her, she said she was going to talk to a reporter. She believed that once the truth was out Orsini's wife would leave him and he would come back to her." Corley wiped his eyes with his fingers. "I told her that it was cazy and that he had never loved her, but she hung up on me, and I never heard from her again."
Silence reigned for a moment. Vecchio gently questioned, "You figured Orsini killed her, or had her killed." Corley nodded. "Why didn't you go to the police?"
"What good would that have done? Even if they had believed me, Orsini's wormed his way out of criminal charges before. He has money, power, and friends to pull strings for him."
"Can't argue with that," Kowalski said, eyeing Vecchio.
"Don't look at me like that, Stanley! I'm sorry about your sister, Martin, but you shot a cop and you have to pay for that." He pulled out his handcuffs, walked around to Corley and snapped them around his wrists.
"You're right, Detective. I deserve whatever I get," Corley said dejectedly.
Vecchio took him by the arm and led him towards the door.
"wait. .wait," a weak voice pleaded.
Three heads turned around to see Ricky Caruso his eyes open trying to sit up. Corley let out a sob of relief.
"don't take him," Caruso begged.
"I got no choice, Caruso," Vecchio said glumly. "If I let him slide, it's the same as all the people who let Orisini walk. The law's the law no matter if it's someone you care about." Vecchio smiled. "I learned that from a mountie I used to know."
Caruso held out his hands, and Vecchio nodded and released Corley. He rushed over and grasped Caruso's hands.
"don't worry. I'm going to be okay, and you don't have a record.?" Corley shook his head. Caruso smiled. "I didn't think so. we'll tell your story and I'll ask the judge for leniency. you won't get much time, maybe even a suspended sentence. i'll stand by you through this; I promise. "
Corley raised Caruso's hands to his lips and kissed them. "To think out of all this pain, something wonderful has happened. I wish I'd met you sooner." "me too," Caruso agreed.
"Time to go Martin," Vecchio gently pulled him away.
"i'll see you soon," Caruso promised.
*********
Several hours later, Vecchio and Kowalski sat in the Riv, parked outside of Kowalski's apartment building.
"You know we've got nothing solid on Orsini. He's not even gonna go on trial over this," Kowalski complained.
Vecchio sighed. "Yeah, I know, but it's sure gonna shoot his political career all to hell. And sooner or later, he'll slip up. He's natural born scum, he won't be able to help himself."
They sat quietly for a few moments. Then Kowalski said, "I've been thinking, Vecchio."
"Oh boy, we're in trouble now."
"Ha ha, very funny. Anyway, I think we should define our relationship."
Vecchio looked at him shocked. "Define our relationship?"
"Let's face it; we're just fucking, that's all."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. I love fucking. It's my favorite thing. But sooner or later, on or both of us is gonna find someone else."
Vecchio shrugged, "So?"
"Let's agree right now that when that happens, we'll just end it. No screaming, no fighting, no throwing things, just say goodbye and it's over. Okay?" Kowlaski extened his hand.
With a sigh, Vecchio took it. "Okay," he answered. Then he jerked the blond detective over to his side of the seat. "I believe you owe me a blowjob," he reminded.
"Oh, do you want that now?" Kowalski asked, all innocence.
"Why yes I do, Stanley." Vecchio leaned his head back, as Kowalski slid down between his legs and struggled to unfasten his pants. "One day we're gonna be through, but not today, Stanley, not today."
the end.
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