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Ack, well over a month late. *hides* Apologies to justbreathe80… - Vecchio fest! [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Vecchio fest!

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[Dec. 28th, 2006|09:56 pm]
Vecchio fest!


Ack, well over a month late. *hides* Apologies to justbreathe80 and everyone else!

1369 words of Vecchio/Angie, mostly, though there is Vecchio/Irene and Fraser/Victoria in there too. Spoilers for Victoria's Secret, One Good Man, Juliet Is Bleeding, and Burning Down the House.

Prompt #15:

We had the real thing up there in the moonlight
Didn't cost nothing but each of our hearts
One day you stopped smiling and singing those love songs
Then you decided to make a new start. (“you don’t have me”)

[Disclaimer: These characters belong not to me; I make no money off of them. Suing me would be singularly unprofitable.]
The Real Thing

The worst part about the whole affair was that when Ma looked back at him, mouth pulled into a tight, disappointed line, she was only looking at him. She wasn't expecting Angie to fix anything; she was expecting him to do it, all by himself. He and Angie aren't together in this -- which you would think goes without saying, but it'd still be nice to be able to turn to her and say something normal. Roll their eyes, mutter about how Ma's got too much hope for her own good, something like that. But instead he's trapped in a room with a silent woman whose head is at God knows where, with his Ma expecting him to make her come out of this room smiling -- because he's her son, and he knows better than to let a good marriage go to waste.

And he does. But he also knows a bad marriage when he sees it, and this would be a bad marriage. It doesn't take much; it'd gone bad the minute Angie'd decided she wanted out. Who even knows why, it's not like Ray'd noticed anything out of the ordinary. They're normal. They're comfortable. They have something solid, and even if they're mostly not wild or romantic or half out of their minds with lust, they've got something real. And they'd had their moments, anyway; there were a few good crazy moments there, with a just little too much champagne, where they'd just stay up late giggling for no good reason at all. It's not like the movies, but recipes never turn out as good as they look in the cookbook, anyway. It's enough for him. It's the kind of thing he always thought he'd end up getting: not too hot, not too cold; just cool enough to hang onto and just warm enough for him to want to.

Apparently, that's not enough.

"Sorry about them," he mutters, strolling over to the window and staring out over the front lawn. "They're just trying to help. You know how that is." He hears a squeak as she sinks down onto their mattress. "Don't worry, we'll have you and your stuff out of here in twenty, tops."

She doesn't respond for a long time, and it's not a comfortable kind of silence that stretches out between them. They'd perfected that -- two people have to, when they're working hard and living together and coming home exhausted more often than not -- but it's hard to keep that when he's only seen her for a couple of hours at a stretch in the past few days. Even then, there were lawyers between them, trying to sort out whose stuff is whose. There'd been a few seconds there, when they'd looked at each other across that fancy mahogany table that was too snotty for its own good -- just a few, where they were back on the same page and the lawyers were about a hundred pages ahead of them and neither of them knew what the hell they were doing.

Of course, then her lawyer decided that he wanted Angie to get the Riv, and Ray'd gotten a little distracted.

"God, this is morbid," she says suddenly.

Ray lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "No kidding."

Ray's watching Fraser carefully; Fraser's watching the clock just as carefully and twitching, like it might just do something interesting and somehow turn back half an hour.

Victoria's half an hour late already, and if Ray knows anything about criminals, she's probably not gonna show. If Ray knows anything about women -- which he mostly doesn't -- she's not really the love of Fraser's life, either. If she were, she'd be here already. Angie would've done it for him -- she still would, if it was Ray on the line, needing her help. At least, he's pretty sure she would.

"Has she called?" Fraser asks, mouth tight, and Ray shakes his head.

Hey, what the hell. He'll give her another half hour. Besides, Irene wouldn't show -- she just can't. It's not her fault that she can't. She just can't.

"Promise me," Irene breathes.

"Okay," Ray says, fast, "okay, I promise, just -- "

"Promise me."

"I just said, I promise, now -- "

"Promise me."

"Look," Ray whispers, "look, just relax, okay? You're gonna be okay, you hear me? Just -- relax, can you do that for me?"

She smiles, just a little bit; her eyes're closed, have been for a while now. Then, like she's listening to him, finally, her head slumps to the side.

"She's fading," someone says, and Ray takes a step back, heart pounding. "Pulse down -- oxygen -- " There's gloved hands flying everywhere -- people're shouting, there's alarms going off, but Irene's face is still.

She listened. She's relaxing. She's not going to come back, and Ray doesn't need to be a doctor to know it.

She'd kissed him. She'd smirked at him and then she'd kissed him. Angie. Okay, maybe she wasn't flirting, exactly, but -- damn, it was close. It was something. Enough of a something for Fraser to be eying him, anyway.

"She's a friend," he says, because that's really all Fraser needs to know. You can't go back on something like divorce. You can't pretend marriage is 'til death when you already know it isn't.

"I see," Fraser says, like he doesn't believe a word of it. God, the guy can't ever quit being right, can he?

"And it's none of your business," Ray snaps.

Fraser gives him the big-eyed Mountie look -- oh no, he'd never even dreamed it was. "Understood."

Ray's almost ready to take off. His bags're packed, he's got his files, he's got a top-secret plane waiting to fly him into Nevada, he's even called Fraser and dropped a couple of hints that got him absolutely nowhere. Fraser'll figure it out when he needs to, though. He's got a knack for that kind of thing.

Last stop: Angie's place.

There's a pause before the door opens; she's in her bathrobe and slippers, and she's looking confused as all hell. In hindsight, Ray maybe should've done this sometime before dawn. "I -- Ray? What're you -- "

"Oh, nothing important," he says, all casual -- and Angie may not be his best friend or his partner, but she was married to him for a while there, and just that makes her straighten and frown at him.

"Nothing important, huh?" She gives him a once over. "There a reason why you're in your best suit at five in the morning?"

"I've got a meeting in Vegas." He shrugs. "I just thought I'd check in with you before I headed out."

"Vegas?" she repeats, eyebrows going up. She's not quite awake enough to play this game, but she can follow it just fine, and that's enough. "You're going to Vegas?"

"Yeah. I keep missing out on Miami, so I guess they figured I'd earned it."

"Ray, you'd hate Vegas."

"Yeah? What makes you say that?"

"Just think of the mafia -- you hate the mobs here enough as it is, you'd never -- "

"Yeah, you're right." He leans against the doorframe and looks her in the eye. "Guess I'll just have to cope."

She purses her lips for a second, then looks down at her feet and rubs the back of her neck. "I guess you will."

Good old Angie. Everything got through, and he didn't even have to break the rules once. "Thanks, Ange."

She shoots him a look. "What the hell're you thanking me for? Go on, get lost. Gamble all your earnings away. It's a good thing we're not married anymore, or I'd be stopping you." She gives him a little shove out the door, and then shuts it in his face.

There's some people out there who don't know what love is -- but Ray, he knows exactly what's on the other side of that door. He doesn't need marriage to know that.


[User Picture]From: j_s_cavalcante
2006-12-29 03:47 am (UTC)

You are quite simply brilliant. You put in the words that should be there and left all the rest in the silence, and your silences speak eloquently. This is beautiful and spare and wrenching and perfect.

The last line--well, it's two sentences, actually--is exquisite; one of the best I've read. You've nailed Vecchio so neatly. I love how he doesn't worry about Fraser, Fraser will get it eventually. And Angie gets it now, and she says all the right words. Wow. I see why he trusts her so much.

Vecchio fic doesn't interest me enough to make time to read it (I haven't been over to the fest home page, just saw this come up on my flist, I think) but I clicked on yours because it's yours, and I wasn't disappointed. This is wonderful.
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[User Picture]From: mondschein1
2006-12-29 05:04 pm (UTC)
*blushes furiously and hugs you* Thank you thank you thank you! I, um. Always get a little nervous writing Vecchio, to tell the truth? And I'm never sure if I've really really gotten him or if I've just gotten someone else entirely. But. Seriously, I'm so glad that this made sense to you, and your comments always make me bounce and do a little chair dance.
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[User Picture]From: nos4a2no9
2006-12-29 06:24 am (UTC)
j_s_calvacante really hit the nail on the head. This is brilliant, and you are brilliant, and you *get* Vecchio in a way that makes me reconsider my own understanding of the character. Like the rest of your work you are able to chip away at who this guy is and find the diamond-hard core of him. That hard work reflects on the other characters who show up here: Fraser, of course, but also Angie and how she understands him in a way no one else does or ever can.

Your writing here is lean and tight, and each section, each word, feels like an imperative. There's no fat anywhere here, and to carry the mining anaolgy into the field of the ridiculous, you burrow down deep and let the subtle messages about love, friendship and letting go unearth themselves through careful and percise shoring-up. In lesser hands the structure might be collapse but, like always, you manage to pull something meaningful and beautiful out of Vecchio's life. Thank you so much for posting this - it's an amazing bit of character insight and history.
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[User Picture]From: mondschein1
2006-12-29 05:07 pm (UTC)
*continues to blush insanely* OMG, YAY, I have LEAN writing. I just. I often find my writing to be either too verbose or so spare that nobody can make head or tail of it, so -- yes. *jumps happily* Thank you so much!
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[User Picture]From: llassah
2006-12-29 05:26 pm (UTC)
Oh, lovely. That's some brilliant writing you've got there- you get Vecchio so damn well, and the sparseness of this is something that really really works here, and I have tons and tons of admiration for that. I love that you're not creating new scenarios for him, but you're showing him both by his view of the world, and other people's perceptions of him. And that's a really neat trick I wish I could do *g*. Beautiful, this one's going to be reread often, methinks
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[User Picture]From: mondschein1
2007-01-05 11:53 pm (UTC)
*G* I'm really glad this fic worked for you! Vecchio and sparseness are two things I always get nervous about writing. *quivers with yay at being reread*
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[User Picture]From: china_shop
2007-01-02 02:30 am (UTC)
"Oh, nothing important," he says, all casual -- and Angie may not be his best friend or his partner, but she was married to him for a while there, and just that makes her straighten and frown at him.

"Nothing important, huh?" She gives him a once over. "There a reason why you're in your best suit at five in the morning?"

This is amazing! I can totally see Vecchio here, playing casual and goofy, and letting the meaning sink in all by itself. ♥
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[User Picture]From: mondschein1
2007-01-05 10:55 pm (UTC)
Heee, thank you!

*pets the boy* Oh, oh, Vecchio. I squish you with EVERYTHING I've got and propose marriage to you just a little bit.
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[User Picture]From: ride_4ever
2014-11-05 02:45 pm (UTC)
Concurring with every positive thing already said about this fic.

You totally win at RayV.
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[User Picture]From: ride_4ever
2015-02-22 05:22 pm (UTC)
Back for a rereading. *points up to previous comment*
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