[ Tugging his jeans on, putting his day boots back on, Fraser kept his thoughts on the matter entirely to himself. There was something grave and deeply regretful in his expression now as he ducked his face in toward his shoulder. After a moment he looked back up, looking almost sad: ]
Ray.
[ His tone was admonishing. Like 'Break into the bridal suite, that would be against the law'. Except that Fraser was just winding him up. Ray, he said, like 'You're a terrible person how could you', when he was really setting himself up to say: It is a terrible idea, but you only live once, let's go do it.
So he said: Ray, and then he said: ]
Why didn't you mention it before? We certainly can't break with tradition now, can we? What sort of friends would we be? What sort of best man would I be?
[ Although he was already badly scored in that department, since Huey and Dewey had had to book the strippers for Ray's bachelor party; "What kind of best man forgets strippers!?" and "Guys in Canada don't get a lot of tail, do they?" which of course Fraser had needed to debate at length because of a misunderstanding about the meaning of the word tail (Welsh had cleared it up for him). In fact most of the bachelor party had passed like that, and Fraser had spent the rest of it intervening in Ray Vecchio's escapades. At one point this included keeping him from crashing Frank Zucko's place and introducing himself as Armando Langoustini. This apparently involved telling him to 'Get the fuck outta my town' followed by a string of blurred Italian insults which Fraser had only caught half of, but which, he thought, detailed his lineage (goats), and his choice of sexual partner (seabound mammals), his choice in underwear (used granny panties) and the things he liked to put in his mouth (dirtier than what Benny does).
All in all he thought that the best kind of best man was the one that saved a guy from getting shot in the face, so Huey and Dewey could go to hell. (And maybe that was particularly vicious of him, but they'd set one of the strippers on him for a laugh, and Fraser had been so humiliated he'd needed to step out for a half hour to cool off.)
He strode across the room, kneeling beside Ray pointedly and, just as it seemed that perhaps he was about to propose or something similarly inappropriate, eyes upturned, he tugged his pack out from where he'd stowed it under the bed, and expertly removed his pocket knife, a roll of whittling tools and a large reddish chunk of wood, the latter of which he handed to Ray.
no subject
Ray.
[ His tone was admonishing. Like 'Break into the bridal suite, that would be against the law'. Except that Fraser was just winding him up. Ray, he said, like 'You're a terrible person how could you', when he was really setting himself up to say: It is a terrible idea, but you only live once, let's go do it.
So he said: Ray, and then he said: ]
Why didn't you mention it before? We certainly can't break with tradition now, can we? What sort of friends would we be? What sort of best man would I be?
[ Although he was already badly scored in that department, since Huey and Dewey had had to book the strippers for Ray's bachelor party; "What kind of best man forgets strippers!?" and "Guys in Canada don't get a lot of tail, do they?" which of course Fraser had needed to debate at length because of a misunderstanding about the meaning of the word tail (Welsh had cleared it up for him). In fact most of the bachelor party had passed like that, and Fraser had spent the rest of it intervening in Ray Vecchio's escapades. At one point this included keeping him from crashing Frank Zucko's place and introducing himself as Armando Langoustini. This apparently involved telling him to 'Get the fuck outta my town' followed by a string of blurred Italian insults which Fraser had only caught half of, but which, he thought, detailed his lineage (goats), and his choice of sexual partner (seabound mammals), his choice in underwear (used granny panties) and the things he liked to put in his mouth (dirtier than what Benny does).
All in all he thought that the best kind of best man was the one that saved a guy from getting shot in the face, so Huey and Dewey could go to hell. (And maybe that was particularly vicious of him, but they'd set one of the strippers on him for a laugh, and Fraser had been so humiliated he'd needed to step out for a half hour to cool off.)
He strode across the room, kneeling beside Ray pointedly and, just as it seemed that perhaps he was about to propose or something similarly inappropriate, eyes upturned, he tugged his pack out from where he'd stowed it under the bed, and expertly removed his pocket knife, a roll of whittling tools and a large reddish chunk of wood, the latter of which he handed to Ray.
And then Fraser patted his knee amicably. ]
Lead the way.