[ Ray always knows just what to do. Always. In this case, he drops his hand away and instead throws his arm across Fraser's shoulders, and everything that had been tilting ever to one side snaps back to normal: to Ray, his partner, his friend. This he can do. This is just like every other day, with Ray's arm offering support, and Fraser looking aside at him with his own warmth shining in his expression.
This works. It always has. He's smiling an unFraserlike glittering smile by the time they get through the doors together, the pleasure and contentment pouring off him where only there had been anxiety before. Maybe he'd just lost control of his own face, but it couldn't be helped--not really. He was the happiest man alive. Ray Vecchio coming in a close second, obviously.
Not rushing ahead as they stepped inside, because he wanted to maintain that contact, Fraser only stopped to fetch his tuning fork from his pocket - better not to ask where it came from - and took down two glasses of wine from a passing tray, holding one out for Ray.
The party was full under way. Maybe they'd settled down a little faster than Fraser had guessed they would. That or his brief interlude with Ray had taken longer than he'd realised it would. Either way, Ray and Stella had already settled down at the table with plates of food that they were hardly touching, chatting animatedly with Ma Vecchio. Francesca was sitting gloomily on Stella's side of the table looking like this was a funeral rather than a wedding. Welsh was scarfing down cocktail sausages. The music was playing and everyone was happy.
He took a sip of sparkling white wine, then tapped metal against glass, raising it high so that the sound rang out over the entire crowd. The music stopped, and Fraser gathered himself. He really wasn't bad at public speaking, per se, but it wasn't his favorite pastime either. Still, if he never made another speech again, this was the only one that mattered, and as he had everyone's attention he stepped forward, looking for reassurance at Stanley behind him as he began. ]
I know that traditionally the Best Man is expected to refrain from giving his speech until the latest possible moment. I suspect the delay serves many purposes. First, to keep the bride and groom on their toes for as long as possible as to what he might say. And it's true, I could tell you some stories: for instance there was this one time where Ray-- [ Fraser, get to the point! Ray always did know the best moment to interrupt. ] Well, never mind. Further, I imagine, for whatever reason - stage fright or perhaps a lack of planning - the best man might be hoping that some bizarre and unhinged friend might bring proceedings to a grinding halt before he ever has to open his mouth. Unfortunately the only bizarre and unhinged friend I have who might do such a thing is Detective Kowalski, here, and I'm afraid I already swore him on his best behavior. [ He looked fondly at Ray again - his Ray - then back to the one who now belonged to Stella. ] Or perhaps, much more likely, he's hoping his fellow guests will be drunk enough by the time he starts that they can't help but laugh at all his jokes. My own speech, I'm relieved to say, need not rely on such a crutch; besides, I've been reliably informed that Canadian humor doesn't translate south of the border.
[ Everyone had a good laugh at that. Fraser's smile was still sunny, but now it became a little more subdued. ]
Ray, I love you. You were, are, and always will be my first true friend. When I came to Chicago I was entirely alone but for the bag I had slung across my shoulder, and you--well, I can't say that we hit it off right away but it was oh...within those first few minutes or so. As my partner, you whined and complained your way through the better part of the two hundred seventy one cases we worked together. We were almost killed during our escapades more than fifty times, and although the exact number escapes me I'm confident you still remember it, even now.
[ Fifty seven! shouted Ray, and Fraser smiled. ]
Fifty seven times. You see what I had to put up with?
[ He took a breath before he continued, suddenly filled with much more emotion than he'd been prepared to deliver. They'd speak again, but these words felt so final. They felt like 'Goodbye'. When he'd gathered the strength to face it, his smile had fallen, become something a little sadder; more melancholy. ]
I was planning to tell an Inuit story - a fisherman's tale, really - about a hungry man who became delirious on the sea ice and in desperation used his own frozen toes as bait, but as I think about it it's probably not very appropriate. Still, I think Ray would be disappointed in me if I didn't share some element of wisdom with him. So here it is: A wise man once told me that a man's hair is who he is; that it makes a statement. Now Ray's, as I recall, says 'Mess with me and you're dead'. The contouring around the sides says 'Watch out, this guy might be dangerous', and the feathering at the back, of course, appeals to the female demographic. Ray expressed concern to me that he might be losing his Je ne sais quoi. Well, I think I'd have to disagree. Stella is a beautiful, intelligent, talented woman, a wonderful dancer, and a fierce attorney. She's also very lucky to have won the affection of a man as wonderful, as loyal and generous as the man sitting beside her now.
But she's also as blind as a bat.
[ Okay so they were going to go off the rails at some point, that was sort of inevitable. Nobody had realised that it had happened yet. Fraser wasn't mean, he was probably getting to something, right? It was a set up for a joke--it had to be. Only Francesca seemed to register the appropriate concern. ]
Oh, I'm sure you'll both be very happy. I couldn't be happier for you, in fact, because it is in her loss that I have found my own happiness. You see, Stella Vecchio has had the good fortune to bear the last names of both of my partners. She has been as fortunate as I am to have known them both. So believe me when I tell you now, Stella, that if you hurt that man as you hurt this one, misuse him and mistreat him as you did this one: I will hunt you to the ends of the earth.
[ He raised his hand to still the rising hubbub. ]
As the matter stands, however, Ray is happy. Ray is happy, Stella is happy, Ray is happy and I am happy - everyone's happy! Ray has a new dance partner, and I intend - with all due haste, and as soon as I can find a two person sleeping bag with a zipper down the middle - to whisk him away to the great northern wastes with me. Where, hopefully, we'll both continue to be happy together, if you all know what I mean.
Ah. What was I saying? To the happy couple. [ He raised his glass. ] I wish you every happiness.
[ Everyone drank. Fraser drank. He looked back toward Ray hopefully. ]
no subject
This works. It always has. He's smiling an unFraserlike glittering smile by the time they get through the doors together, the pleasure and contentment pouring off him where only there had been anxiety before. Maybe he'd just lost control of his own face, but it couldn't be helped--not really. He was the happiest man alive. Ray Vecchio coming in a close second, obviously.
Not rushing ahead as they stepped inside, because he wanted to maintain that contact, Fraser only stopped to fetch his tuning fork from his pocket - better not to ask where it came from - and took down two glasses of wine from a passing tray, holding one out for Ray.
The party was full under way. Maybe they'd settled down a little faster than Fraser had guessed they would. That or his brief interlude with Ray had taken longer than he'd realised it would. Either way, Ray and Stella had already settled down at the table with plates of food that they were hardly touching, chatting animatedly with Ma Vecchio. Francesca was sitting gloomily on Stella's side of the table looking like this was a funeral rather than a wedding. Welsh was scarfing down cocktail sausages. The music was playing and everyone was happy.
He took a sip of sparkling white wine, then tapped metal against glass, raising it high so that the sound rang out over the entire crowd. The music stopped, and Fraser gathered himself. He really wasn't bad at public speaking, per se, but it wasn't his favorite pastime either. Still, if he never made another speech again, this was the only one that mattered, and as he had everyone's attention he stepped forward, looking for reassurance at Stanley behind him as he began. ]
I know that traditionally the Best Man is expected to refrain from giving his speech until the latest possible moment. I suspect the delay serves many purposes. First, to keep the bride and groom on their toes for as long as possible as to what he might say. And it's true, I could tell you some stories: for instance there was this one time where Ray-- [ Fraser, get to the point! Ray always did know the best moment to interrupt. ] Well, never mind. Further, I imagine, for whatever reason - stage fright or perhaps a lack of planning - the best man might be hoping that some bizarre and unhinged friend might bring proceedings to a grinding halt before he ever has to open his mouth. Unfortunately the only bizarre and unhinged friend I have who might do such a thing is Detective Kowalski, here, and I'm afraid I already swore him on his best behavior. [ He looked fondly at Ray again - his Ray - then back to the one who now belonged to Stella. ] Or perhaps, much more likely, he's hoping his fellow guests will be drunk enough by the time he starts that they can't help but laugh at all his jokes. My own speech, I'm relieved to say, need not rely on such a crutch; besides, I've been reliably informed that Canadian humor doesn't translate south of the border.
[ Everyone had a good laugh at that. Fraser's smile was still sunny, but now it became a little more subdued. ]
Ray, I love you. You were, are, and always will be my first true friend. When I came to Chicago I was entirely alone but for the bag I had slung across my shoulder, and you--well, I can't say that we hit it off right away but it was oh...within those first few minutes or so. As my partner, you whined and complained your way through the better part of the two hundred seventy one cases we worked together. We were almost killed during our escapades more than fifty times, and although the exact number escapes me I'm confident you still remember it, even now.
[ Fifty seven! shouted Ray, and Fraser smiled. ]
Fifty seven times. You see what I had to put up with?
[ He took a breath before he continued, suddenly filled with much more emotion than he'd been prepared to deliver. They'd speak again, but these words felt so final. They felt like 'Goodbye'. When he'd gathered the strength to face it, his smile had fallen, become something a little sadder; more melancholy. ]
I was planning to tell an Inuit story - a fisherman's tale, really - about a hungry man who became delirious on the sea ice and in desperation used his own frozen toes as bait, but as I think about it it's probably not very appropriate. Still, I think Ray would be disappointed in me if I didn't share some element of wisdom with him. So here it is: A wise man once told me that a man's hair is who he is; that it makes a statement. Now Ray's, as I recall, says 'Mess with me and you're dead'. The contouring around the sides says 'Watch out, this guy might be dangerous', and the feathering at the back, of course, appeals to the female demographic. Ray expressed concern to me that he might be losing his Je ne sais quoi. Well, I think I'd have to disagree. Stella is a beautiful, intelligent, talented woman, a wonderful dancer, and a fierce attorney. She's also very lucky to have won the affection of a man as wonderful, as loyal and generous as the man sitting beside her now.
But she's also as blind as a bat.
[ Okay so they were going to go off the rails at some point, that was sort of inevitable. Nobody had realised that it had happened yet. Fraser wasn't mean, he was probably getting to something, right? It was a set up for a joke--it had to be. Only Francesca seemed to register the appropriate concern. ]
Oh, I'm sure you'll both be very happy. I couldn't be happier for you, in fact, because it is in her loss that I have found my own happiness. You see, Stella Vecchio has had the good fortune to bear the last names of both of my partners. She has been as fortunate as I am to have known them both. So believe me when I tell you now, Stella, that if you hurt that man as you hurt this one, misuse him and mistreat him as you did this one: I will hunt you to the ends of the earth.
[ He raised his hand to still the rising hubbub. ]
As the matter stands, however, Ray is happy. Ray is happy, Stella is happy, Ray is happy and I am happy - everyone's happy! Ray has a new dance partner, and I intend - with all due haste, and as soon as I can find a two person sleeping bag with a zipper down the middle - to whisk him away to the great northern wastes with me. Where, hopefully, we'll both continue to be happy together, if you all know what I mean.
Ah. What was I saying? To the happy couple. [ He raised his glass. ] I wish you every happiness.
[ Everyone drank. Fraser drank. He looked back toward Ray hopefully. ]
How did I do?