[ But his mind wasn't on stories. He was still dwelling on separation and it's crushing inevitability. That was what his father had told him, after all, wasn't it? That nothing ever stayed the same. Everything, even partnerships, had to end. There was a bittersweet finality to this, as there had been to losing the ghost of his father, seeing his mother for the first and last time. Ray would soon be gone, as everyone would eventually be gone in time. That was true also of this Ray - the new Ray - maybe even of Fraser himself, and certainly of his posting to Chicago.
How long could he string it out? He'd been a police officer for seventeen years, a Constable for most of that. People who had gone to the Academy a decade after him were being promoted over him to jobs that appealed to their city aspirations in Toronto and Ottawa. How long would it be before, choice or not, they took him out of the field and put him behind a desk, far away from the snow, or real police work, where he couldn't embarrass any more Canadian officials?
And would retiring on full pay even be worth the way it would destroy his soul to have to suffer through it?
He ate quietly, distractedly, and then at last lowered the pizza just a few inches - still on his first slice - and looked sadly across at Ray again. ]
Perhaps it wouldn't hurt if... This once... If we shared a drink that was somewhat stronger than camomile tea.
[ He felt like he needed to excuse himself. ]
It is a wedding, after all. [ And nobody needed a miserable Mountie bringing down the mood before festivities had even gotten started. Just one drink--enough to dull the razor sharp edge of his mind and soften him up. What could go wrong? ]
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[ But his mind wasn't on stories. He was still dwelling on separation and it's crushing inevitability. That was what his father had told him, after all, wasn't it? That nothing ever stayed the same. Everything, even partnerships, had to end. There was a bittersweet finality to this, as there had been to losing the ghost of his father, seeing his mother for the first and last time. Ray would soon be gone, as everyone would eventually be gone in time. That was true also of this Ray - the new Ray - maybe even of Fraser himself, and certainly of his posting to Chicago.
How long could he string it out? He'd been a police officer for seventeen years, a Constable for most of that. People who had gone to the Academy a decade after him were being promoted over him to jobs that appealed to their city aspirations in Toronto and Ottawa. How long would it be before, choice or not, they took him out of the field and put him behind a desk, far away from the snow, or real police work, where he couldn't embarrass any more Canadian officials?
And would retiring on full pay even be worth the way it would destroy his soul to have to suffer through it?
He ate quietly, distractedly, and then at last lowered the pizza just a few inches - still on his first slice - and looked sadly across at Ray again. ]
Perhaps it wouldn't hurt if... This once... If we shared a drink that was somewhat stronger than camomile tea.
[ He felt like he needed to excuse himself. ]
It is a wedding, after all. [ And nobody needed a miserable Mountie bringing down the mood before festivities had even gotten started. Just one drink--enough to dull the razor sharp edge of his mind and soften him up. What could go wrong? ]