Why won't html show in the heading box? It should be: Frozen Penguin Seeks Agony Uncle Aunt
I was over on![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
aerye's lj because I fandom stalk her because she says nice things about my post mortem Ray/Ray because she's wonderful and fabulous and fabulous and wonderful, oh and writes but good everything. Anyway, she had a survey up, because somebody on her friend's list, who I have tentatively assumed is shayheyred, asked her to write Huey/Frannie and Aerye wanted to know, basically, how much we'd vomit at the idea. Cute.
Only then, I did it. Yes, I wrote some cute PG 13 het, which is oddly RayK-centric, hopefully keeping everyone happy. And implied RayK/Louis, to which Jack is totally oblivious, andaerye wishes she was.
I am so hoping I have finally got the hang of which Duckboy is which. And if I have, it has spoilers for Juliet Is Bleeding and Whichever Episode The Hose-Him-Down Comment turned up in.
Frozen Penguin Seeks Agony Uncle Aunt
Jack stood in the bullpen like a frozen penguin. He'd gone to Fraser, 'cause, yeah, Fraser was The Mountie, and was discrete and wouldn't spread it all over the station, and yeah, face it, the Mountie knew anything. Anthropology professor left a suicide note in cunniform, give it to the Mountie, who could not only read it, but tell you it wasn't suicide and that the note actually implicated his murderer, a mentally unstable ex-cop ex-vet current-nutjob.
And he gone and asked Fraser, and still got it shouted all over the station by fucking Kowalski, who'd lost none of his shit when he'd lost his name. Yeah, Jack knew Kowalski alright, he was Louis's buddy, he'd drag them all drinking when everything was peachy and they'd play pool and shoot the shit, he'd drag them all drinking when his marriage was crashing and burning and he'd be a total shit. What Jack didn't get is why Louis hung with the guy like that, even took him home when Stella, who was way too classy a lady in Jack's humble opinion to have married Kowalski in the first place, had chucked him out for the night like a badly behaved pussy cat. And yeah, Kowalski moved like a cat all right, but he was nobody's pussy, whatever some of the guys in the breakroom might say about him and the Mountie, like that guy in Shakespere Romeo stabbed, King Of Cats. Oh yeah, all attitude, which one day would buy him the fucking farm.
Not that Kowalski hadn't been good when Louis had died, came round, said how sorry he was, how bad it was when a partnership got nixed like that, told him he needed somebody, he got him.
And then Kowalski had vanished into thin air, like a magician. Exactly like a magician, or maybe a quick change artist. Yeah, exactly. Whenever he'd met Kowalski, he'd been enough Kowalski to fill out an entire room. And then one day, his car broke down in a bad neighborhood and he'd been about to step into a bar to use their phone, when a soft voice came, "You really don't want to go in there, man, they really don't like cops none."
It was this blond Billy Idol type, okay, not quite, blond Billy Idol type into guys and crystal meth was closer, but still not quite right. Dealer? User? Jack had had no idea, until yeah, he'd thrown him his cell phone, still there in that alley, and the light had changed just for a moment, and it was Kowalski. And then it wasn't, again.
So yeah, Kowalski was his own good cop/ bad cop. But he was meant to be Vecchio now, and he hadn't changed none, still on that asshole kick, or maybe he was just angry at Dewey, maybe he'd been closer to Louis than he thought. Maybe they'd had long soulfull talks on Gardino's couch while Louis sobbered him up enough to be able to roll into the 1-3 the next morning. Hot sweet coffee and comiserating about the lack of hot sweet women.
So maybe, that was why Kowalski had said it. Hated Dewey for taking his pal's place, 'cause while they knew each other, they weren't close and maybe it was tough being undercover, even when you were barely under the covers at all, answering to a new name and getting none of the credit for your work must suck plenty.
But while he might dream of him and Dewey and a hose, it remained that he couldn't do it, to put it into Kowalski-ese, it wasn't buddies.
So he'd gone and talked to the only person he thought was clued up enough on this sort of thing, Frannie, and she'd been nice and great about it, and wasn't quite as much an airhead as he thought. Funny and smart enough funny that Dewey never suspected they were laughing at him.
And he was going to take her out to dinner tonight.
And it wasn't really a price to pay for the help, because how can it be a price, when you enjoy paying?
I was over on
aerye's lj shayheyred, asked her to write Huey/Frannie and Aerye wanted to know, basically, how much we'd vomit at the idea. Cute. Only then, I did it. Yes, I wrote some cute PG 13 het, which is oddly RayK-centric, hopefully keeping everyone happy. And implied RayK/Louis, to which Jack is totally oblivious, and
aerye wishes she was.I am so hoping I have finally got the hang of which Duckboy is which. And if I have, it has spoilers for Juliet Is Bleeding and Whichever Episode The Hose-Him-Down Comment turned up in.
Jack stood in the bullpen like a frozen penguin. He'd gone to Fraser, 'cause, yeah, Fraser was The Mountie, and was discrete and wouldn't spread it all over the station, and yeah, face it, the Mountie knew anything. Anthropology professor left a suicide note in cunniform, give it to the Mountie, who could not only read it, but tell you it wasn't suicide and that the note actually implicated his murderer, a mentally unstable ex-cop ex-vet current-nutjob.
And he gone and asked Fraser, and still got it shouted all over the station by fucking Kowalski, who'd lost none of his shit when he'd lost his name. Yeah, Jack knew Kowalski alright, he was Louis's buddy, he'd drag them all drinking when everything was peachy and they'd play pool and shoot the shit, he'd drag them all drinking when his marriage was crashing and burning and he'd be a total shit. What Jack didn't get is why Louis hung with the guy like that, even took him home when Stella, who was way too classy a lady in Jack's humble opinion to have married Kowalski in the first place, had chucked him out for the night like a badly behaved pussy cat. And yeah, Kowalski moved like a cat all right, but he was nobody's pussy, whatever some of the guys in the breakroom might say about him and the Mountie, like that guy in Shakespere Romeo stabbed, King Of Cats. Oh yeah, all attitude, which one day would buy him the fucking farm.
Not that Kowalski hadn't been good when Louis had died, came round, said how sorry he was, how bad it was when a partnership got nixed like that, told him he needed somebody, he got him.
And then Kowalski had vanished into thin air, like a magician. Exactly like a magician, or maybe a quick change artist. Yeah, exactly. Whenever he'd met Kowalski, he'd been enough Kowalski to fill out an entire room. And then one day, his car broke down in a bad neighborhood and he'd been about to step into a bar to use their phone, when a soft voice came, "You really don't want to go in there, man, they really don't like cops none."
It was this blond Billy Idol type, okay, not quite, blond Billy Idol type into guys and crystal meth was closer, but still not quite right. Dealer? User? Jack had had no idea, until yeah, he'd thrown him his cell phone, still there in that alley, and the light had changed just for a moment, and it was Kowalski. And then it wasn't, again.
So yeah, Kowalski was his own good cop/ bad cop. But he was meant to be Vecchio now, and he hadn't changed none, still on that asshole kick, or maybe he was just angry at Dewey, maybe he'd been closer to Louis than he thought. Maybe they'd had long soulfull talks on Gardino's couch while Louis sobbered him up enough to be able to roll into the 1-3 the next morning. Hot sweet coffee and comiserating about the lack of hot sweet women.
So maybe, that was why Kowalski had said it. Hated Dewey for taking his pal's place, 'cause while they knew each other, they weren't close and maybe it was tough being undercover, even when you were barely under the covers at all, answering to a new name and getting none of the credit for your work must suck plenty.
But while he might dream of him and Dewey and a hose, it remained that he couldn't do it, to put it into Kowalski-ese, it wasn't buddies.
So he'd gone and talked to the only person he thought was clued up enough on this sort of thing, Frannie, and she'd been nice and great about it, and wasn't quite as much an airhead as he thought. Funny and smart enough funny that Dewey never suspected they were laughing at him.
And he was going to take her out to dinner tonight.
And it wasn't really a price to pay for the help, because how can it be a price, when you enjoy paying?