| Subject: Lyric Wheel: An Invitation To Dance (Slashy) |
Author:
MoonPuppy
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Date Posted: 17:05:01 08/12/01 Sun
Disclaimer etcetera: Not mine. But I do have control of your vertical hold.
Rating: PG-13 for delicate innuendo.
Notes: This was done for the 2nd dueSouth Lyric Wheel. Lyrics are at the end of the story. Oh, and this was supposed to be 4K or less. Please. I can do 4K writing a check. I think this is the shortest thing I've ever written.
Requirement: the story must be told from a secondary character's point of view.
An Invitation to Dance by MoonPuppy
I pulled the drapery aside and looked out my front window. It was a hot summer day and there were few people on the street. Those that were out there seemed mired in the ground they trudged across. No-one's feet slipped and slid across the surface. They dragged, they tramped, they fought to free one foot while the other pulled them along.
The only thing that connected them was the fact that they were alone. All alone. Like I am. Standing alone on the sidelines of the world. Watching other people whirl and dance though the joys and tribulations that are their lives. Which was fine with them, because they had someone. They were together, one part of a couple, one half of a pair, one member of a family that may only include two, but it was more than one. One couldn't be a family. Well, a person could claim they were; a family, that is. A family of one. One that might include pets of some sort or that might just be one alone.
I sighed heavily and let my forehead rest on the cold glass surface. It was cold despite the heat outside, because of the air conditioning in my home. I liked it cold. It reminded me of home. Canada. It was cold at home. It was lonely at home. So being lonely reminded me of the cold of my home. And being cold reminded me of the loneliness of my home. It was a nasty circle, but one I found I could not break. Perhaps because the cold had settled into my heart, keeping the loneliness there company.
Behind me, in the living room, a clock chimed. I turned and regarded it. Five p.m. In an hour I was expected to be at the Canadian Consulate to be in attendance for a small gathering that Inspector Thatcher was throwing. I sighed again, turned away from the window, and began unbuttoning my shirt in preparation for changing into my uniform. The knock at my door took me by surprise; I hadn't noticed anyone approaching.
Checking my shirt to make sure I was still presentable, I opened the door to the smiling visage of Detective Ray Kowalski. "Hey, Turnbull! What's up?"
"De . . . Detective . . . Kowalski," I stuttered, shocked at my visitor. "What are you," I began, then regained my composure. "I mean, how can I help you today?"
Kowalski ducked his head, shaking it. He looked back up again, smiling broadly. "I don't want you to help me, Turnbull. I just wanted to know if you wanted to go out, maybe grab a bite to eat, catch a movie? Something like that?"
I stood, open-mouthed, my hand still on the door knob, utterly lost for words. Detective Kowalski had come over to see me?
Into the silence, he added, shrugging, "I was gonna call, but I don't have your phone number, so I figured I'd just drop by. I didn't interrupt something did I?"
My mouth finally kicked into gear. I blurted out, "No, I'm alone."
" 'All the lonely people', huh? 'Where do they all come from?' " He smiled to break the sentiment of the lyrics he quoted. "Hey, you can do things alone, ya know."
I couldn't stop what came out next. "But, what about Constable Fraser? I thought you and he were friends?" I blushed immediately at the pathetic tone my voice had taken.
"Ah, Turnbull," Ray started, then changed the topic. "Can I call you Renfield?" At my nod, he continued on with his original thought. "Renfield, a man can have more than one friend, can't he? Especially when one friend . . ."
My brain took control of my mouth. "Especially when one friend is busy, so you can fall back on the other friend who has nothing better to do but wait with bated breath for you to pay attention to him." I slammed my hand over my mouth. What had I been thinking? How dare I speak to someone like that? My father would have beaten me for that arrogance, that rudeness.
"Nooo," Ray said, moving his head from side to side slowly, his brow furrowed, but not taking offense at my statement. "Especially when one friend says that maybe I would like to be friends with a very intelligent, very nice person who happens to cover his shyness with nervous gestures and bumbling."
I could feel myself turning red with embarrassment. "Oh . . . my . . . I'm so sorry De . . .De . . ." I was so ashamed of my behavior I started stuttering for the first time in ten years.
"Call me Ray," he interrupted me. "Hey, can I come in?"
Oh, my, Lord. I'd been babbling at the man, rudely at that, and hadn't had the decency to invite him into my home out of the heat. "P, p, pu, lease," I managed to get out. "Please come in Detective, I mean, Ray. Please come in."
He smiled broadly at me. "Thanks. Don't mind if I do." He stepped inside the door which I closed behind him. "So, you up for some on the town time tonight, Ren? I can call you Ren, can't I?"
No one had ever called me Ren before. No one had made the attempt to be my friend before. "Certainly, Ray," I answered. "It would be an honor to accompany you tonight, but, unfortunately, I have another engagement I am required to attend."
Ray's face dropped, his happy expression disappearing. "Oh, well, sure, I can understand." He shrugged, "After all, it's not like all you do is sit at home waiting for invitations to go dancing or something."
I smiled at the man for the first time today. "Were you going to ask me out dancing, Ray?"
It was Detective Kowalski's turn to blush. It was cute, not that I'd ever admit it to his face. "Um, well, see, Fraser mentioned that you were a fine figure on the dance floor, something he could never reconcile with your clumsiness on the job. And, well, I like to dance, and, um . . . I thought, well, cuz I've done some work for Vice, I know a couple of places we could go dancing and not draw a lot of attention. Well not draw attention as two guys dancing, not that you wouldn't draw attention for just being you, as big and good looking as you are, and I better shut up before you damage me more than I am already. I mean, I know I'm making assumptions, but I've got this gaydar thing that's always worked for me before and if I'm wrong, just tell me and I'll leave."
"Ray," I said, "I would love to go dancing with you. I would love to do anything with you that you'd like, but I've got to attend a function at the Consulate tonight. I'm surprised Constable Fraser neglected to inform you of that fact. He'll be there also."
Ray ducked his head. "Yeah, well, I didn't exactly tell Frase I'd be heading over here tonight after I dropped him off at his place. We'd gotten to talking about the affair tonight at the Consulate and that's when you and your dancing came up. I didn't mention I was coming over here and he didn't say you'd be at the function-thingie. After all, it's your extra day off, isn't it?"
Ray was referring to the fact that once a month each of us at the Consulate got an extra day off to make up for the over-time hours we had to put in. I nodded in agreement, shocked that he knew my schedule. "Yes, Ray, it is, but I volunteered for this duty." I ducked my head as my embarrassment once again shaded my skin. "It was a chance for me to . . ."
My voice faded out as his filled in, ". . . dance?"
I nodded in agreement. "I love to dance," I said softly. Then something else he'd said penetrated my brain. "You think I'm good looking?" I told myself I wasn't fishing for compliments; I was just astounded to be thought of that way.
Ray nodded. "Handsome, even. So what's say? Can you get out of the function or do I gotta work up my nerve and try this again some other time?"
"I . . . I . . . I," I was flabbergasted. One one hand I had duties I had volunteered to attend to, and I had never not attended a Consulate affair. On the other hand, no one had ever asked me out dancing before. I took a deep breath. I need more information to make a decision. "How long have you felt this way?"
"About what?" He frowned at me, not understanding the question.
"Dancing. With me." If he was going to play the fool, who was I to stop him?
He glanced down, then back up at me again, his eyes suddenly dark with arousal. "I've wanted to dance with you for a long time, Ren. It just seemed that the music was never right."
This set me back. I'd never had anyone desire me like this. I was thrown off-stride yet again. "And what happened? Did the song change?"
"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. "More like someone turned the record over and the remix on the flip side was better to dance to."
I felt heat flood my groin. A tingle I hadn't felt for a long time ran through my body, and I turned away to hide my reaction.
"Ren?" He asked, placing a hand on my back.
I turned back around, displacing his hand. "I need to know, Ray, exactly what you are speaking about," my inner thoughts voicing themselves. If we were speaking at odds, I needed to know now. Before I made a fool of myself.
Ray took a deep breath and wiped a hand over his face. He took a moment to begin speaking, but when he did, his voice was sure and strong. "I want to go to bed with you Renfield Turnbull. And I also want to go dancing with you. I want to go to ball games and out to dinner, and I wanna spend time with you, get to know you." His eyes met mine, as if in challenge. "I'm tired of admiring the scenery from a distance."
I couldn't help it, I blushed, even as I grinned widely. "As am I, Ray. I have admired your scenery, so to speak, from the moment I met you."
His grin equalled mine. "So, what's the word? Can you get outta tonight? Or am I gonna have to get into a monkey suit and go with you?"
The thought of the man in front of me dressed in a tuxedo caused me to blush all over again. "I . . .I . . . um. . . . if you could excuse me for just a moment while I make a call?"
His grin, if possible, widened even further. "Be my guest."
I almost ran to my phone to call the Consulate. Constable Fraser answered, "Canadian Consulate, Constable Fraser at your service. How may I help you?"
I explained that a situation had arisen and that I would not be able to attend the function tonight. I asked if this would be a problem and was told that, while I would be missed, it was not a problem and there would be no remonstrations against me. I thanked the Constable and was surprised when he wished me luck.
"So, what's the word?" Ray asked me as I hung up the phone and turned around to face him. I hadn't been aware that he'd followed me to the phone.
"I'm free for the evening," I said and I reached out, tentatively, to touch his face.
He turned his head to cup his cheek into my hand. "Good. Greatness. I think we could make a great pair, Ren."
I spoke my agreement as I bent my head to gently kiss his lips.
~fin~
The lyrics I was sent by Sylvie: (Thanks!)
Eleanor Rigby by The Beatles
Ah, look at all the lonely people.
Ah, look at all the lonely people.
Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been,
lives in a dream,
waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door.
Who is it for?
All the lonely people.
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people.
Where do they all belong?
Father McKenzie writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear,
no one comes near,
look at him working.
Darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there.
What does he care?
All the lonely people.
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people.
Where do they all belong?
Ah, look at all the lonely people.
Ah, look at all the lonely people.
Eleanor Rigby, died in the church and was buried along with her name,
nobody came.
Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave,
no one was saved.
All the lonely people.
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people.
Where do they all belong?
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