[Ray: You sure about that chapter title?

Fraser: Not entirely, but it was the best way I could think of to tie the beginning of the chapter to the end.

Ray: It's kinda corny.

Fraser: Does it offend you?

Ray: Nah.

Fraser: Then I think you may keep your criticism to yourself.]

That being settled—please enjoy the latest chapter. I'm pleased to note that the trouble in saving new documents appears to have been resolved. ~B. Fraser

Chapter Twenty-four: Heroes Of a Feather

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" I asked when RayK and I got back to our doors.

"Nah. I've been too busy to make any plans. I'll probably just watch TV."

Diefenbaker put his paws up on Ray's door and looked at him, tongue hanging out.

"Looks like Dief wants to watch TV, too," Ray said.

"Or he hopes you're planning to eat dinner while you watch," I said knowingly.

Ray knelt to give Dief a scratch behind the ears. "Well, I don't mind if he wants to hang out. You're welcome too, if you want," he added, glancing up at me. "But I'll probably just be having canned soup or something for supper." It looked like he wasn't upset about the cookies anymore.

"I'll keep it in mind. Right now, I want to go by the Vecchio house to get the wood stain Ray offered me."

"Oh, yeah. You want a ride?"

"That's kind of you, but if I let you drive me around all the time, I'll have to start giving you gas money."

"I'm cool with that," he said, smiling as he got to his feet. "I won't charge you what a cab would, and the wolf rides free."

"You're sure you're available now?"

"I'm not doing a thing."

"In that case, I accept."

A few minutes later, we were getting into Ray's car again. The GTO was as familiar to me and Dief as the Riviera by now, and the passenger seat was always adjusted for me, except for the week before, when Francesca had ridden in it.

Once Ray was about to put the car in gear, Dief leaned over and licked him about the collar.

"Gah! Stop that!" Ray exclaimed, trying to fend Dief off with one hand.

"You're making it awfully difficult for him to drive safely," I chided Dief, who backed off.

I looked over at Ray's neck, where Dief had been licking. It looked as if the area had completely healed, so my previous concerns were probably unfounded. "How's your neck?" I asked.

"A little moist, thanks to your wolf, but I'll survive."

"I was referring to the abrasions you incurred in your scuffle with Tanner."

"Oh, that? That was nothing. It's my ribs that still smart. And my hand from clocking Tate."

"Your ribs?"

"Yeah... Tanner kneed me pretty good. It's some nice colors. But it only hurts if I touch it or lie on my side the wrong way."

"Did you see a doctor?"

"Hell, no. It wasn't that big a deal. Hurt worse when I took a shot to the bullet-proof vest. That got pretty, too."

"I remember. I'm still amazed you didn't go to a doctor on that occasion."

"Eh. I'd had worse than that in the boxing ring."

"I don't see how that negates the value of seeking professional medical guidance."

Ray smiled and shook his head. "Trust me, I'm fine, okay?"

"If you say so."

What I had thought would be a quick stop at the Vecchio house turned into a somewhat longer visit. Mrs. Vecchio hadn't seen us since we'd had dinner there, and she had a lot to say to Ray by way of thanks for his part in what had transpired the week before.

"You, my boy," she said, giving him a kiss on the mouth that seemed to embarrass him a good deal, "you are our angel!"

"Oh, ma," Ray protested.

"Without you, Francesca would be in some murderous man's basement, hungry, no sunlight, alone—if she was lucky! And you risked your life for her. You're a good boy."

I smiled at this display of fondness. Ray had come a long way since I'd met him; I'd always known that his declaration of "I don't risk my neck for anyone!" had been less than honest, and now it seemed he could no longer deny his own gallantry.

"A good brother and son," Mrs. Vecchio continued. "You'll stay for dinner, of course."

"Uh..." Ray looked at me, at a loss for words. His adoptive nieces and nephews were crowded around him, two clinging to his legs with impressive grip strength for their size.

It was still a couple of hours before dinnertime, and I had been wanting to work on staining my table that afternoon, but that hardly seemed important in comparison to a mother's feelings. "Staining the table can wait," I told him.

"But you wanted to get that done, right? I mean, you're going to be busy tomorrow..."

I got the feeling Ray didn't want to stay, at least not right now. "Perhaps we could come back afterward," I suggested, watching his face carefully to see if this were a suitable compromise.

"Yeah," he said. "We'll get started on his table, then we'll come back for dinner. Okay?" he asked, looking back at Mrs. Vecchio.

"All right," she said, "but you make sure you're here at seven. Seven," she repeated, looking at me.

I nodded. "I'll see that we're on time," I told her.

"Uncle Ray," Little Tony said, tugging on Ray's sleeve. "You're a hero."

"Uh..." Ray laughed. "I don't know about that."

"You certainly are!" Mrs. Vecchio declared. She ruffled Little Tony's hair. "Now, you kids say bye and let Uncle Ray go so he can take Fraser home and do chores and get back here in time for dinner."

The children reluctantly released Ray from their clutches.

"You did want to have dinner with the Vecchios, didn't you?"

"Sure," Ray said, keeping his eyes on the road. "It's just... it's so early, the kids would be all over me for hours. I can't take all that."

"You like kids."

"Yeah, I know. I do. I really do. And I missed them while we were away. But..." he glanced down and then looked back at the road. "I don't know. I guess I at least want a chance to clean up a little. I didn't bother to shower today, and I'm in my street clothes..."

"Should I put on my uniform?" I asked, not wanting to embarrass Ray by not rising to the occasion.

"No," he said quickly. "It's not like it's a formal dinner or anything. I just feel kinda... shabby."

"I see."

"Hey, if you get a chance, tonight might be a good time to talk to Franny."

I couldn't contradict that. "Perhaps so."

When we got home, Ray went to his apartment to shower and change, and I began putting down layers of newspaper on the kitchen linoleum to catch any stain that fell from the table. I decided to stain the legs and underside of the table first. I was about halfway done with the first coat when Ray knocked at the door.

"Come in," I called.

Ray's hair was standing up from his head in wet spikes, and he still had a towel around his shoulders, but he had put on some of his nicer casual clothes. "You want a hand?" he asked.

I pointed to the extra brush beside the can of stain and he joined me on the floor, picking it up. I could tell he hadn't done much woodworking before, but he mimicked my actions and took to it all right. "You're a natural," I told him.

He laughed. "Great. Greatness. If Welsh fires me, I know I'll have a career in wood staining to fall back on."

I smiled at his quip. "I'm sure Welsh isn't about to fire you."

"Let's hope not. But yeah, I'm guessing he'll just suspend me for a week or something. Better have my badge and gun ready to hand over on Monday."

He didn't sound bitter; it was hard to read his mood. "What was it Tate said that made you so angry?"

"Eh... he said something ugly about Franny, and she was listening in. He probably didn't even mean it."

"Do you regret it?"

"I don't know. I guess so. But I don't regret sticking up for Franny. I don't think anyone's done that, much."

I thought he was partly right, given the arguments I had heard between Francesca and her brother. Still, RayV had proven very protective of her in specific situations.

"Of course, you have," Ray added.

I was definitely willing to defend Francesca if she needed it, but I wasn't sure if Ray was referring to a particular instance.

He shook his head. "I still can't figure it out. Did you, or didn't you?"

"Did I, or didn't I, what?"

"Sleep with her."

I immediately focused my attention on the task at hand. This was not the first time he had asked me, and as my friend, I felt it was completely inappropriate for him to continue doing so after my first refusal to answer.

"Are you ever gonna tell me?"

"There's no reason for me to tell you."

"I don't know about that... I mean, if you did, then I gotta ask if you're gonna be okay with it if I start going out with her. And there are other reasons it would be helpful to know, too."

"Such as?"

"Don't distract me."

"From what?"

"The main question."

"I've already told you, I'm not going to disclose a secret which is not mine alone to tell. Even if it were... there are things one does not reveal, even to a partner and friend."

Fortunately, that seemed to deter him for the time-being. He always knew I was serious when I spoke directly of our friendship.

He moved to dip his brush into the can of stain again and wrinkled his nose. "Man, this stuff stinks," he said. "Are we gonna get high off it? Let's open the window."

I set my brush on the can's lid and stood up, glad to flex my stiff joints. "I'll open the one in the bedroom," I said.

"Will that make much difference?" he asked, going to the window at the edge of the living area.

"Two openings will encourage steady airflow," I explained. "It will help to dissipate the fumes more quickly."

"Huh."

"You know how it is if you put down one window in your car," I called, now in the bedroom. "The temperature and freshness of the air inside the car will change gradually, but you won't get a strong breeze unless you open two of them."

"I never thought about it much before."

We reconvened at the table.

"Scientific principles are all around you, Ray," I told him, taking up my brush again. "A little applied observation will take you far."

"Guess that's my problem. I'm not the most observant person. I mean, I notice stuff if I think it might be important, but if I don't, then it's like it's invisible."

"Anyone can learn to be a keen observer. You just need the motivation."

We worked without talking for a little while; then Ray said, "Hey, Fraser?"

"Yes."

"That, uh... that dream catcher: You weren't mad that I gave it to Ray, were you?"

"No, not at all. I did think, in light of your recent nightmare, that you might want to keep it."

"Well, yeah, there's that. How much trouble would it be to make another one?"

"With genuine eagle feathers?"

"Could you substitute something else?"

I thought over the native American lore with which I was familiar, and then remembered something. "I do have a raven feather I could use."

"Ravens are good?"

"Ravens are fly."

He gave me a strange look and then laughed. "You're trying to talk street again?"

"I thought the pun appropriate. In any case, though the raven is sometimes an irresponsible trickster, he is also commonly a heroic figure in folklore."

"Heroes are cool."

"And can undoubtedly ward off bad dreams."

"Sounds good."

I nodded. "Then, as soon as I can get my hands on some willow saplings, I'll start making it."

"Willow... okay, sure. Thanks."

Thank you for reading. Please spare a moment and do us the courtesy of leaving a little feedback. It only takes a second to be courteous. ~B. Fraser