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carlyinromeTITLE: Keepsake
RATING: PG-13
FANDOM: Thunderheart
PAIRING: Ray Levoi/Walter Crow Horse
SUMMARY: From
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derangedfangirl’s prompt: Ray kept a pair of panties from an ex-girlfriend and forgot, they just ended up in a box of random stuff. How the fuck was he supposed to know Walter would end up going through his things?Ray was reading the morning paper when a pair of panties appeared in the middle of the sports section. They were purple, sheer lace, and, if he recalled, a size 5. He recognized them immediately.
“These yours?” Crow Horse asked. “I ain’t never seen you in them. Not that I don’t want to, mind.”
“You went through my stuff?” Ray asked without looking up. He resisted the urge to touch the lace; his fingers remembered the feel of it, and twitched.
“Don’t try to squirm around the question. I was looking for my gloves you stole—”
“Borrowed,” Ray muttered, finally looking up.
“—and I thought maybe they’d be in your dresser—”
“In a box way in the back under everything. A locked box.”
“Lock wasn’t what you’d call sound,” Crow Horse said, but Ray thought he looked a little uncomfortable. “You gonna tell me about your undies, or what?”
“They’re not mine,” Ray said irritably. He set the paper down, and—gingerly, like they might be hot—picked the panties up. They were soft and familiar in his fist.
“So you stole someone else’s britches?”
Ray blushed. “They were—they were more a gift.”
Crow Horse was just staring at him. Ray sighed. “Jessie,” he said. “That was her real name.”
Crow Horse’s brow rose. “Real name? What was she, a—”
“She was a dancer.”
“Ballerina wears fancy underpants like that?”
Ray blushed darker. “No. She was . . . she was an exotic dancer.”
Crow Horse’s jaw hung a little loose, and Ray felt a flash of pride for shocking him. “You dated a stripper, Ray?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Crow Horse mocked. “You can’t just leave it at that; you owe me a story.”
After you broke into my stuff? Ray thought, but he went on with it, anyway. “I was working undercover, lower level management for the mob. There was a gentleman’s club on my route, and she worked there.”
“And you liked her.”
Ray’s blush was becoming serious, strawberry-red and all the way down to the triangle of chest visible under his undershirt. “Yeah. I liked her a lot.”
“Obvious she liked you okay, too,” Crow Horse said, “since she gave you her crazy underthings and all.”
“Yeah, we—we had an affair. It—it’s one of my biggest regrets.”
Crow Horse’s brow creased. “Cuz she was a stripper?”
“What? No—God no, of course not. Because—because I was undercover. And when I left her—when I had to leave her—I had to do it without ever telling her the truth.”
Crow Horse feathered his fingers through Ray’s hair, and Ray found himself leaning into the touch. Crow Horse bent down and kissed his cheek, and then stayed low, speaking softly against Ray’s cheekbone.
“Well, sweetheart, it was for her own protection, eyah? You did good by her.”
Ray wanted to argue, but Crow Horse was kissing him; Crow Horse’s hand was sneaking down under his undershirt, the touch rough but fond. Ray felt his grip on the panties loosen, and he relaxed against Crow Horse.
Crow Horse chuckled. “Still like to see you in them britches, though, Ray.”
Ray bit him, and then dragged him into the bedroom. The panties stayed on the kitchen counter.
“These yours?” Crow Horse asked. “I ain’t never seen you in them. Not that I don’t want to, mind.”
“You went through my stuff?” Ray asked without looking up. He resisted the urge to touch the lace; his fingers remembered the feel of it, and twitched.
“Don’t try to squirm around the question. I was looking for my gloves you stole—”
“Borrowed,” Ray muttered, finally looking up.
“—and I thought maybe they’d be in your dresser—”
“In a box way in the back under everything. A locked box.”
“Lock wasn’t what you’d call sound,” Crow Horse said, but Ray thought he looked a little uncomfortable. “You gonna tell me about your undies, or what?”
“They’re not mine,” Ray said irritably. He set the paper down, and—gingerly, like they might be hot—picked the panties up. They were soft and familiar in his fist.
“So you stole someone else’s britches?”
Ray blushed. “They were—they were more a gift.”
Crow Horse was just staring at him. Ray sighed. “Jessie,” he said. “That was her real name.”
Crow Horse’s brow rose. “Real name? What was she, a—”
“She was a dancer.”
“Ballerina wears fancy underpants like that?”
Ray blushed darker. “No. She was . . . she was an exotic dancer.”
Crow Horse’s jaw hung a little loose, and Ray felt a flash of pride for shocking him. “You dated a stripper, Ray?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Crow Horse mocked. “You can’t just leave it at that; you owe me a story.”
After you broke into my stuff? Ray thought, but he went on with it, anyway. “I was working undercover, lower level management for the mob. There was a gentleman’s club on my route, and she worked there.”
“And you liked her.”
Ray’s blush was becoming serious, strawberry-red and all the way down to the triangle of chest visible under his undershirt. “Yeah. I liked her a lot.”
“Obvious she liked you okay, too,” Crow Horse said, “since she gave you her crazy underthings and all.”
“Yeah, we—we had an affair. It—it’s one of my biggest regrets.”
Crow Horse’s brow creased. “Cuz she was a stripper?”
“What? No—God no, of course not. Because—because I was undercover. And when I left her—when I had to leave her—I had to do it without ever telling her the truth.”
Crow Horse feathered his fingers through Ray’s hair, and Ray found himself leaning into the touch. Crow Horse bent down and kissed his cheek, and then stayed low, speaking softly against Ray’s cheekbone.
“Well, sweetheart, it was for her own protection, eyah? You did good by her.”
Ray wanted to argue, but Crow Horse was kissing him; Crow Horse’s hand was sneaking down under his undershirt, the touch rough but fond. Ray felt his grip on the panties loosen, and he relaxed against Crow Horse.
Crow Horse chuckled. “Still like to see you in them britches, though, Ray.”
Ray bit him, and then dragged him into the bedroom. The panties stayed on the kitchen counter.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 03:50 pm (UTC)I think this is one reason that people who get into law enforcement make such interesting characters--why would anyone want to do such a demanding, frustrating, dangerous, heart-destroying job? Most of them just simply want to help people and they're pretty critical of themselves when they feel they've failed in some way. Not to mention the way this little vignette speaks to the toll that such jobs inevitably take on relationships.
Wow, that was a lot of thinking for my day off. :D But that's one thing good writing does: make one think.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 04:58 pm (UTC)An early draft of the script has a line where Coutelle makes fun of Ray for something he wrote in an essay to get in to the FBI. I'm sad that they took it out, because it reminds you that Ray is just this kid who, not very long ago, wrote an admissions essay about why he loves America. He's just this sweet kid who really believes in the American dream, and wants to protect its integrity . . . maybe because, in a lot of ways, he is the American dream.
Er, sorry. I had too much thinking, too. :) Thanks so much for the feedback; I'm really glad you liked the story, and I'm always interested to hear your thoughts.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 12:06 am (UTC)That bit about Ray believing in the American Dream (tm) makes my damn soul ache.
Also, RAAAAAY. Not being a slut shamer. Wearing his privacy like a shield. Having an overly-developed guilt complex. *snuggles*
And Walter! Having no problem with it once he knows the backstory.
If I have time at some point, permission to write Jessie/Ray? Because DAW. <3
no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 01:01 am (UTC)*blush* wellthankyousir!
*tips hat* You're welcome! You can repay me by writing more fic!
That bit about Ray believing in the American Dream (tm) makes my damn soul ache.
Here's the part from the alterna-script, if you've not read it:
Hey, hey, hey. J. Edgar would've
loved you. He'd love anybody who
joined the Bureau to, what was it?
"To enforce the laws of my country
and protect her interests"?
RAY
You crashed my file?
If I have time at some point, permission to write Jessie/Ray? Because DAW. <3
Omigosh, please! I'd be so flattered, and I love your Undercover!Ray fic. <3
no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 06:02 am (UTC)Teaser:
"Then it’s been three months and he still twitches away or subtly redirects Walter’s hands when they’re- he doesn’t even know what to call it, because ‘making love’ sounds like some shitty romance novel, and ‘fucking’ definitely doesn’t fit- but whatever it is, Ray’s inner thighs and his right hip are apparently no man’s land, and Walter can’t fucking figure out why.
Until-"
:)
Prompt: Bones. Summary: "Ray doesn't much like being naked."
no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 04:03 pm (UTC)That IS a teaser. I am thoroughly TEASED.
*grabby hands of coveting*
no subject
Date: 2012-06-16 06:02 am (UTC)PS: my posting schedule is weird now because I'm all in LA and shit.
:D
no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 12:33 am (UTC)One of Walter's great qualities is his ability to accept people and situations for what they are. He's an understanding character, especially with people who weren't raised the way he was or don't think the way he does. He could have been very annoyed that Ray still kept such a memento, but instead he demands the story behind it, probably because he's pretty sure it's going to be entertaining. Then he says the exact right thing to make Ray believe that what he did to Jessie was the only thing he could do. He does this because you know how to write this guy.
In other words, great story — I enjoyed it very much.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 01:02 am (UTC)Oh, wow, thank you so much. I always appreciate your takes on these little stories, and I'm so pleased you liked this one.