[ When urged to lower his hands, Fraser takes advantage of the opportunity to turn very slightly into Ray, pressing his shoulder lightly against the other man's chest, as though seeking protection. Every movement has to mean something now. Ray is listening to his body, watching him, and that's all the communication he can spare. Like cornering a target in dead silence, this is where they have to do their job to the very best of their ability; live and breathe as partners as though they were one. There's no second shot at this.
Ray was good. Overly cautious, but good. Rather than come off as avoidant, the role he played was the same overwhelming possessiveness that Ray had been acting on since they first stepped into the club. It fit the role he was playing, but more importantly Frasier personally appreciated it. He felt safe with Ray calling the shots.
The woman on the other side of the bar had seen it all before. To her, they were just another couple wanting just the same things; just as Ray would stand in the interrogation room and experience the same interview hundreds of times over his career. She peered at them for a few seconds, then turned away without providing an answer, fetching a ring of dozens of shiny keys of various shapes and sizes, and dangling them in plain sight. ]
I'll help you out. Half for the drinks, and you get this-- [ She put an empty tip jar on the counter beside them. ] Make up the rest of it or don't, but the house makes sixty bucks either outta your wallet or theirs. Dom or not, everyone around here's gotta play by the house rules, you know? It's just business.
[ No sooner had the tip jar touched he countertop, but the too-close man from earlier was pressing a ten into it, trying to avoid getting too close to Ray in the process. ]
Are you kidding? [ He had a nervous voice for a man with a zip up groin. The indentation on his nose and worn hair around his ears indicated long periods of wearing too-small spectacles, and there was printer ink on his fingers. An accountant, if Fraser had to guess. ] It's worth that just for walking in.
no subject
Ray was good. Overly cautious, but good. Rather than come off as avoidant, the role he played was the same overwhelming possessiveness that Ray had been acting on since they first stepped into the club. It fit the role he was playing, but more importantly Frasier personally appreciated it. He felt safe with Ray calling the shots.
The woman on the other side of the bar had seen it all before. To her, they were just another couple wanting just the same things; just as Ray would stand in the interrogation room and experience the same interview hundreds of times over his career. She peered at them for a few seconds, then turned away without providing an answer, fetching a ring of dozens of shiny keys of various shapes and sizes, and dangling them in plain sight. ]
I'll help you out. Half for the drinks, and you get this-- [ She put an empty tip jar on the counter beside them. ] Make up the rest of it or don't, but the house makes sixty bucks either outta your wallet or theirs. Dom or not, everyone around here's gotta play by the house rules, you know? It's just business.
[ No sooner had the tip jar touched he countertop, but the too-close man from earlier was pressing a ten into it, trying to avoid getting too close to Ray in the process. ]
Are you kidding? [ He had a nervous voice for a man with a zip up groin. The indentation on his nose and worn hair around his ears indicated long periods of wearing too-small spectacles, and there was printer ink on his fingers. An accountant, if Fraser had to guess. ] It's worth that just for walking in.
[ Twenty to go, right? ]