[Considering Fraser's usual unbreakable perfection, he really does look like shit. How is it that he can roll around in garbage trucks and fall in limitless feet of snow without getting a spot on him, and yet something like a wedding has him looking a little too ruffled? This Vecchio thing had perhaps upset the Mountie more than Ray could have ever predicted, but he still can't shake the satisfaction of possibly being rid of the guy, even if he was taking his wife with him.
By the time Fraser finally heads over, Ray's flicking his current cigarette to the ground, crushing it neatly beneath a polished leather shoe and shaking his head slowly. Fraser's started talking of 'what ifs' and even Kowalski knows that it's stupid to even try to think that way. Even if Fraser hadn't interrupted them that night, it'd be the same as every other time Ray and Stella had fucked since their break up; a brief reminder of why the two of them worked so well together, and then a morning full of regret, bad feelings and arguments, all blending into the reminder of why they'd parted ways. Stella had said herself that she still loved Ray, but the two of them seemed incapable of being near each other without eventually arguing. They were both firecrackers, and when left too long together, they'd end up exploding into anger, only fuelled by their own stubbornness. Maybe Vecchio would be better at handling it, maybe he'd cater to her inflexibility better than just raising his voice to it. Maybe Vecchio would be a better husband. Kowalski just didn't want to know the outcome of it all.
Stella was gone. That had been signed away on a piece of paper just minutes ago. But Fraser was still there for him, even if he was throwing up in bushes and looking just a little lost by everything. Ray couldn't read minds, but he could certainly see some level of uncertainty in Mounties actions. Probably still reeling from the idea of losing his 'best friend'.]
It's fine, Fraser.
[He glances down at his hand and Benton's second attempt of grabbing for it, shrugging the concern off tiredly, and it's that tiredness that has him not even even fighting against the directional tug even as he gives the weakest of verbal protests.]
S'only a few scratches. You should be over there for the photos, I can go sort myself out and catch up later, yeah? Promise I won't jump off any bridges or drown myself.
[Jealousy or not, he supposes he shouldn't have his friend missing an important moment in Vecchio's life, even if he himself had absolutely no intention of going over there again and seeing Stella glowing with happiness about not being with him. Bitch.]
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By the time Fraser finally heads over, Ray's flicking his current cigarette to the ground, crushing it neatly beneath a polished leather shoe and shaking his head slowly. Fraser's started talking of 'what ifs' and even Kowalski knows that it's stupid to even try to think that way. Even if Fraser hadn't interrupted them that night, it'd be the same as every other time Ray and Stella had fucked since their break up; a brief reminder of why the two of them worked so well together, and then a morning full of regret, bad feelings and arguments, all blending into the reminder of why they'd parted ways. Stella had said herself that she still loved Ray, but the two of them seemed incapable of being near each other without eventually arguing. They were both firecrackers, and when left too long together, they'd end up exploding into anger, only fuelled by their own stubbornness. Maybe Vecchio would be better at handling it, maybe he'd cater to her inflexibility better than just raising his voice to it. Maybe Vecchio would be a better husband. Kowalski just didn't want to know the outcome of it all.
Stella was gone. That had been signed away on a piece of paper just minutes ago. But Fraser was still there for him, even if he was throwing up in bushes and looking just a little lost by everything. Ray couldn't read minds, but he could certainly see some level of uncertainty in Mounties actions. Probably still reeling from the idea of losing his 'best friend'.]
It's fine, Fraser.
[He glances down at his hand and Benton's second attempt of grabbing for it, shrugging the concern off tiredly, and it's that tiredness that has him not even even fighting against the directional tug even as he gives the weakest of verbal protests.]
S'only a few scratches. You should be over there for the photos, I can go sort myself out and catch up later, yeah? Promise I won't jump off any bridges or drown myself.
[Jealousy or not, he supposes he shouldn't have his friend missing an important moment in Vecchio's life, even if he himself had absolutely no intention of going over there again and seeing Stella glowing with happiness about not being with him. Bitch.]