Oh, I can think of more than just one instance…
Receiving The Crisis by Thomas Paine still sticks out as… well, not the worst, but it was the most devastating at the time. Probably because it was the first, or the first I can recall clearly, at least. I was hoping for a toy bulldozer that year.
I'm sure that I have made some mention of it in prior entries, but my grandparents owned a traveling library when I was a boy. As a librarian, when my birthday came around each year, my grandmother never really understood or fully appreciated how any of the things I asked her and my grandfather for would aid me in any way at all later on in life, and so she generally gave me book in place of what I wanted.
I was given The Crisis for my sixth birthday.
Now, as an adult, I realize she had nothing but the best intentions and my best interests in mind, but at the time, I was furious. So furious, in fact, that I fed the book to a walrus. I overreacted, and there really is no excuse for such a display of ungrateful behavior, but on the other hand, there’s almost no reasoning with a frustrated six-year-old acting on pure emotion. The passing walrus was simply excellent timing.
[locked from Ray Vecchio]
More recently, for my birthday two years ago, Ray took me to… monster trucks. I can’t really say it was a gift I hadn’t been hoping for, because he certainly wasn’t obligated to get me anything at all; I had no right to hope for anything.
At the end of the day, though, I did regret that the… interesting experience hadn’t come with earplugs.
It's been exactly two months since we brought her home from the hospital. I think it's a nice coincidence.
Happy Thanksgiving to all. Yes, Ray, I'm well aware that it's still October.
I feel as though some sort of disclaimer is necessary, because had it not been for my father's meddling, I think it would be safe to assume that which I am about to divulge would never have come to pass.
So there you are; it's completely his fault.
Well, perhaps not completely. It's not as though he held a gun to my head. My actions were my own, but they weren't without the urging of a third, deceased party. So it's mostly his fault.
At any rate, I may have... offered myself, in some inappropriate capacity, to my superior officer. Unnecessarily.
Apparently, when a woman is interested in becoming a mother and she informs you that she would like you to be 'involved' in the 'process', she doesn't necessarily mean... what I had initially thought. What most would have thought, I suspect. How was I to have known she meant she was considering adoption??
I'd... really rather prefer not delving into it much beyond that, actually. It was all very embarrassing, a huge misunderstanding on my part. And it made for a rather uncomfortable experience at work for the remainder of the week.
A leg up indeed...
01. Hometown: I moved around a lot as a child, but I spent my earliest years in Inuvik.
02. Hair color: Brown.
03. Hair length: Short.
04. Hair style: Not much of a style
to it, per se.
05. Eye color: Blue
06. Shoe size: 10
07. Mood: Content
08. Orientation: I'm married to a man. What I am beyond that, doesn't really matter.
09. Available?: For what?
10. Lefty/righty: Right.( The rest.Collapse )
Perhaps, if the individuals that I happened to be responsible for retrieving any specific information from/about weren’t terribly observant and I wasn’t expect to actually speak at any point. As long as those were the specific conditions I was working under, then, yes, I might.
Under all other circumstances imaginable? No, probably not. I’m barely suited for undercover work, otherwise.
Maintaining the guise of a used car salesman for a matter of a few days seemed to pose quite a bit of difficulty (maybe more than a bit if you were to ask Ray), and that was a lot less high-risk than the sort of thing that I would imagine any serious espionage would be required for.
I’m not a very good liar when the stakes are relatively low, never mind when they're through the roof, hence being expected to speak potentially giving way to effectively shattering the illusion and therefore ruining any ruse meant to be maintained altogether.
In short, it’s probably for the best if I’m never approached to do any such thing.
Fraser probably could have counted the total number of hours he’d slept in the past few days all on one hand, but he really isn’t feeling it too much. Or at all. He has about a million things on his mind, all of which can be linked back to just one thing, and it definitely wasn’t sleep. It’s been hectic, with more time spent at the hospital than outside of it, a bit more last minute paperwork and a lot of worrying back and forth between him and Ray that they’d forgotten something or other, even though they had gone over everything about a hundred times, forward and back. It was all just nerves, though, most of which melted away once they had been given the okay and they could finally go home with their tiny new addition.
She was beautiful and healthy and she was theirs. She had her mother’s bright, blue eyes, and the second Fraser stared down into them, not long after she had been born, he was completely taken; he never even stood a chance. Ray didn’t fare any better, and watching him as he held her for the first time had been one of the single most amazing sights Fraser had ever seen. And, now, they got to take her home.
The drive to the apartment was mostly quiet, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence at all, just the silence of a long couple of days, some lingering shock and an all around feeling of contentment. Fraser’s hand didn’t leave Ray’s knee very often, and his eyes were practically glued to the car seat reflected in the rear view mirror.
When they pull up to the building, Fraser lets Ray see to getting Robin out, grabbing the baby bag and locking the car after him. He holds the front and elevator doors as needed, fishing his keys out once they’re on their floor and unlocking the door, swinging it open. He smiles at Ray and steps to the side, gesturing for him to head in.
It was surreal; they’d left the apartment one way and had returned another, as a family. And maybe it wasn’t typical, as far as families went, but what it was, was his.
Taking into consideration what I do for a living, I’ve had to be the bearer of what I’m sure most would agree is the worst possible news that a person could receive. It’s happened more times than I really care to recall, and it hasn’t gotten any easier over the years; I don’t foresee that particular aspect of it ever changing any.
It shouldn’t get easier.
Not the drive to the residence while you attempt to figure out just how to word something like that properly, not knocking on the door, waiting for someone to answer, or the look on the face of the person(s) the news is delivered to when you tell them that their son or daughter, husband or wife, won’t be coming home that evening, no matter how long they wait.
I can’t really write about just one time or just one case or just one life gone. I can say that I don’t ever want to have to break the news to the family and friends of any of the officers I work with. And I sure as hell don’t want to be on the receiving end. Not again.
"We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours,
we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love."
Happy Anniversary, Ray.
1. First Name: Benton
2. Age: 39
3. Location: Chicago, Illinois.
4. Occupation: I’m a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police
5. Partner? Professionally, I suppose I’m the unofficial partner to both Ray Vecchio and Ray Kowalski, both members of the Chicago PD. I’m married to the latter, so that’s an entirely different partnership.
6. Kids: None of which to speak, at the moment.
7. Brothers/Sisters: I have a younger sister named Maggie who lives up north.
8. Pets: Ray has a turtle and seahorses. I have Dief, though he really doesn’t appreciate being referred to as a ‘pet’
9. List the 3-5 biggest things going on in your life: I don’t want to jinx anything, but if all goes well I think this may just cover 1 – 5 completely. Possibly more.
All cryptic nonsense aside, the beginning of August isn’t too far off, and Ray and I will have been married a year than. I'd say that's pretty big.
10. Where and for what did you go to school? RCMP Academy. What for is pretty self-evident, I think.
11. Parents: Robert Fraser and Caroline Pinsent Fraser.
12. Who are some of your closest friends? Both Rays, of course, along with anyone else I work with. Quinn and Mark and Maggie, even if I don’t see any of them all that often.
Er, beyond that, describing
where I live will have to suffice, I’m afraid. I’m not prepared to deal with the possibility of another fire... or something worse.
I live in an apartment with my husband, a deaf half-wolf, a turtle, a pair of seahorses and a few of the offspring from one of them. And a ghost, but that's only some of the time, really, and he's gotten considerably better at not popping in unannounced. The other things, though, are more or less permanent.
There’s a kitchen, a living room, bathroom, bedroom, closets. Chili pepper lights... There were cow plates, too, they probably still exist somewhere within the apartment, I just haven’t attempted to hunt them down, but they’ve since been replaced. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to eat a hamburger while it’s sitting on a plate that looks like a cow?
The apartment is not too big (although, I did live in an office before Ray asked me to move in with him, so it is quite a bit larger than that), nor is it too small. It's more than good enough for us.