Dizzy Land

"That's about the size of it, yeah." It was really kind of nice to be the one telling the ridiculous story for once. "Oh, also, I got her gun off her. Got it back at my place. She's not too happy about that."

Ray looked a little skeptical at the apparently random choice of shop. "You sure you don't want a place where there's more trees or something? How do we know if nobody's living here already?"

"HEY," he yelled into the doorway, almost in the same breath. "ANYBODY LIVING HERE ALREADY?"

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"Well, I don't know at the moment, but-" Benton started, only to be cut off by Ray's shout. He waited the requisite 7.5 seconds for someone to reply, either by shouting back or perhaps by shooting at them, and when neither occurred, he continued; "It does appear to be empty, although it may have an occupant who is simply out at the present time. I imagine I will have to ask around to be certain."

To the question he could only shake his head and drag his thumb across one eyebrow.

"Trees? Well, yes, I suppose. Although there doesn't seem to be much in the way of a suitable area for a campsite, if that is what you're suggesting." A thought occurred to him. "Which, ah, land were you assigned to?"

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"Not here, no, but there's a kind of little island with woods and stuff." And okay, said woods didn't look all that much like the vast frozen tundra they'd recently been hiking across, which Fraser seemed to consider homelike, but to Ray's city-born eyes it still looked more like somewhere you might want to camp, which in his mind equaled 'stuff Fraser likes.' (After being made to sit by campfires in a Chicago city park a few steps away from a wino and a pretzel seller, this was probably a forgivable apprehension.) "You gotta take a boat, though. I'm in, uh, Cowboys and Indians Land? S'in a fort-thing. Over that way." He pointed.

Looking back at the store, "You wanna go in or what?"

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"Frontierland?" Benton guessed, thinking of the map he'd seen in one of the ticket booths. "And I do think I ought to stay in the area to which I was assigned."

He gave the shop a dubious glance. "It doesn't really seem necessary. They're all quite similar, really. Where has Diefenbaker got off to?" he added, lookig back the way the had come.

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Ray rolled his eyes. "You don't gotta stay in Main Street just because Mickey said, 'Main Street.' It's not a law. Nobody cares." True, he was staying in his own assigned land, but that was just, like, convenience.

Where was the furface? "Probably scouting out the junk food situation. Which, there is a lot." He looked down the street. That popcorn wagon hadn't been knocked over, but... "Hot dogs and pretzels over there," he said, pointing at Coke Corner (http://www.mouseplanet.com/guide.php?pg=AAE406).

Edited Date: 2008-10-24 05:16 am (UTC)

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"Oh. Well in that case, perhaps somewhere less... commercial would be more comfortable," he agreed, looking off to where Ray was pointing. "Oh dear. This is going to be a problem." He raised his voice to call the wolf. "Dief! Diefenbaker! Strange, in a new place one would think he would stick a little closer."

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Ray looked at Fraser in bemusement. "Wolf get un-deaf or are you working on some kind of psychic link through shouting? C'mon," he said jerking his head at the restaurant, and striding off.

In regard to Fraser's living space... "I got the stuff that was on the dogsled," Ray offered. Not that that was much of a comfort to Ray, who was already missing his record collection and cowprint plates and photos and assorted other crap he'd accumulated over thirty-odd years. Not to mention having an actual bed. But he figured not-California had to be even weirder for Fraser than for him. So, "There's pemmican. It's all yours, believe me, buddy."

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The reason Diefenbaker wasn't sticking close to his human happened to be very simple. He'd found someone prettier to spend his time with. Specifically a prettier, furrier someone.

Starbuck had been running. In fact, she'd been running a lot more than usual, telling herself and everyone else she knew that she needed to clear her head. As a result, she had gained a gaunt look that was very unlike her, but she didn't seem to notice.

She also never did consider that these runs she was going on might lead her to into unwelcome company. And she certainly hadn't expected another dog to come up and make friends with Sador in the middle of her jog. "I don't know what you two think you're doing," she called out. "But she doesn't have time for any funny business, so I'd give up now, if I were you."

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Diefenbaker turned his head to gauge the newcomer for potential doughnut possession. Finding her decidedly lacking in that department, he gave her a dismissive yip and bounded off in the other direction, encouraging Sador to follow.

Around the corner, Benton gave his partner a fond smile.

"Why thank you Ray. That's very generous of you." He lifted his head in the direction of Dief's bark. "Ah- there he is."

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Sador tore off after the dashing young rogue, prompting Starbuck to follow, cursing as she went.

The cursing died the instant she rounded the corner.

Leoben was there. Accompanied by... the strangest looking man she'd ever seen. This might have had something to do with the fact that he looked like he was dressed to go camping. On the freezing tundra. The hat only made for a wackier picture.

Her hands curled into fists. "Sador. Back."

Edited Date: 2008-11-07 06:13 am (UTC)

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A second later, Ray had stepped in front of Fraser, one hand pushing his friend back warningly and the other going to rest on his gun.

(("dashing young rogue" *DIES*))

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"Ray, what are you-" Benton began, tilting his body to one side to peer around the man who was inexplicably blocking his view. A blond woman in jogging apparel was giving them an icy glare.

Well, it didn't take a Mountie raised by a librarian grandmother to put two and two together here. Still, the beautiful Alaskan husky was a surprise.

"Ray," he said quietly as he noticed the hand go for the gun, and then raised his voice to greet the woman. "Good afternoon, ma'am."

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"Who the hell are you?" she asked, sure that a flutter of annoyance had crossed her face at being called 'ma'am'.

She tracked Ray's motion toward the gun and widened her stance. Not that it would stop a bullet.

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"Nice," Ray said, before Fraser could start in on the standard preamble about RCMP, the killers of his father, blah blah. "That is real polite. You don't got a name for him, huh?"

"Kara, right?"

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"I've never seen him before," she growled, because there was no way she'd let him treat her like a child on top of it. She didn't bother confirming her name because the fact that he had to ask wasn't funny.

The other man... didn't look anything like she'd imagined one of the Final Five would. Which only confused her more. Maybe Leoben had already managed to make friends in this place. Wouldn't that be nice.

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"Excuse me," Benton interrupted, stepping out from behind Ray as the other man clearly had no intention of moving and giving the woman, Kara, his best, most reasonable smile. "I'm sorry, but this man cannot be who you think he is. Detective Vecchio is a member of the Chicago Police Department and a good man. I personally have seen him save dozens of lives and put his life in danger for the sake of justice and upholding the law, which, if I'm understanding the situation correctly, seems very much at odds with your belief that he is... some sort of genocidal robot."

As his calming speeches went, that one had been pretty good until that last bit. Benton scratched at his eyebrow with a fingernail.

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Ray took a break from the glaring to roll his eyes. "Kowalski, Fraser. Detective Kowalski." Having his virtues listed like that - all sincerely and Fraserishly - was really kind of uncomfortable.

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Starbuck's brow furrowed. "Right. He's your personal friend, saved countless lives, and you don't know his real name. And I should believe you why exactly?"

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"Well, because I'm telling the truth," Fraser pointed out reasonably. "And I was aware that Vecchio isn't his real last name. May I ask why it is that you are so certain that my friend is whoever... or rather whatever... you think he is?"

Dief, meanwhile, seemed rather concerned by the whole affair, and crossed over to the woman and looked up at her before trotting back to where Sador was standing. Once there he gave a short, soft bark in her direction.

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Ray, his face screwed up in a rather teenagerish blend of embarrassment and aggravation, had begun rubbing his temple with one hand and making vague, wordless cease, desist, nevermind, leave it gestures in his partner's direction.

At least Fraser hadn't brought up the whole "Stanley" issue. Small favors.

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Sador whined back to Dief, snuffling heavily in what nearly sounded like exasperation. She lay down on the ground and put her head on top of her paws.

Starbuck had the strangest urge to tell the dog to stop talking about her, which was just crazy, and should have been the first indicator that she needed sleep. "Okay, so you gave me the wrong last name and now expect that I'm going to listen to you, when you've admitted that you lied to me already." This guy wasn't very smart.

The question was one that had been asked to her different ways by different people since toaster arrived and it's wearing her thin enough that she snaps, "Because he has the same frakking face! And I don't mean he looks just like, I mean it's a copy. I'm not crazy, I don't make things up, and I don't have to prove it to you. He is responsible for the death of billions of people. Him and all the rest of them."

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Fraser looked taken aback.

"Oh," he said. "I see." A long pause while he considered, and then he offered a heartfelt; "I'm sorry."

Billions of people. If it were true, and he supposes it has every right to be, given where they are and what has happened... well, the horror of it was unfathomable, really.

Dief whined and lay down beside Sador and put his nose down against hers.

"My wolf seems to have taken a liking to your dog," Benton observed.

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"That's great, that's just...that is great," Ray said, giving Dief an et tu, Brute glare.

"Fraser wasn't lying about the name thing. He doesn't lie," he said, defending his partner. Okay, sometimes Fraser got kind of...creative with the truth, he was really good with the strategic omission thing. But this was not one of those times. "I was undercover, it's a long story, he's just in the habit of calling me that."

"It's not important, what is important is..." He tried to collect his thoughts. "I am not this guy, this guy you think I am. I never killed anyone," and that hurt a hell of a lot more than he was expecting it to, coming out; it might be true, but he still remembered Beth Botrelle, and how close he'd come to having her blood on his hands. "I think I would know. So you don't believe me, fine, whatever, I can't make you. But I am..."

It really was unfathomable, unimaginable, if it was true: billions dead. Ray's mind more or less caroomed off of it, refusing to understand because it was way, way too much. He still felt weirdly horrible and somehow guilty as he tilted his jaw up and said, "...I am not gonna be feeling sorry for you, Kara." He'd only just managed not to say 'lady,' again.

Edited Date: 2008-11-20 07:19 am (UTC)

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"I guess so," she said to Fraser, turning her head to glare at Sador. It would have been sort of funny, in any other situation, watching how the dog carefully avoided Starbuck's eyes.

She barely even heard the rest, or at least, it didn't register properly until he said her name. Because, no matter how much he protested that he didn't know her, the fact that he had done that made him sound more like Leoben than anything since he had arrived. Even in a different accent it sounded right. "I never asked you to feel sorry for me," she said, perhaps the first time she had spoken to him and it didn't sound instantly hateful. "That's the last thing I want from anyone."

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Fraser scratched the side of his nose.

"I have a friend," he said after a moment. "Another friend, whose name really is Ray Vecchio. Like this Ray, he is a police officer and a good man who has dedicated his life to protecting people and upholding the law. He has a large family, including a mother who loves him very much. And he also happens to have the same face as a Mob lieutenant and very dangerous man named Armando 'the Bookman' Langoustini. That's the reason I called Ray -this Ray- by his last name; he's been deep undercover, posing as the Bookman after the real Armando Langoustini was killed in a car accident, and Ray -this Ray, Ray Kowalski- has been posing as Ray Vecchio, to protect that cover."

Dief picked up his head again and looked over at Starbuck, as if to see how this logic would affect her. Benton, for his part, simply gave her a small smile.

"Ray Vecchio is nothing like Armando Langoustini in any way, save for his appearance, which is almost perfect. Isn't it possible, in all the billions of people that do or did exist that there might be someone with the same face who isn't that man... especially if he isn't a man at all, but a copy of a man?"

Benton still wasn't sure he was understanding that whole situation correctly.

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"Well, every other freaking person I met here did!" Ray exploded, aggrieved. "Okay, so you didn't ask for it. First good thing about you."

He'd tried not to wince as Vecchio got brought into it all. Honestly, the whole mess of undercover for an undercover operative had never made that much sense to Ray. (But honestly, he had never really expected his life to make sense.) Of more importance was the fact that, after living Ray Vecchio's life for all those months, he'd actually just met the guy and had kind of had to wonder if it had all been worth it at all. Not that this was anything he could say to Fraser, who he knew still looked on Vecchio as his best friend.

Edited Date: 2008-11-21 07:58 am (UTC)

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"Other person?" Her eyes narrowed. "You were asking other people about it." Very few people in the park knew the story to an extent that would allow them to feel sorry for her. No one had mentioned talking to him about it.

She was a little upset about that.

The friend's reasoning left quite a bit to be desired on top of it. "Possible? Every day things happen in this place that shouldn't be possible. So if you're trying to convince me that there's a remote chance that he might not be the man that I see, then you're right, there is a chance. But the cylons learned to mimic us very well. So you see my problem." It didn't matter how he acted, what the differences were between Ray Kowalski and Leoben. She would never be able to believe, with her whole heart, that there was no chance he could be someone else who had just discovered another brilliant method of deceiving people, skewing the truth.

She'd prayed for the bastard's soul. But she had still hoped he wouldn't come back.

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"You know," Benton pointed out after a thoughtful moment's silence. "Animals have always been able to perceive many things that we cannot. I once saw a penguin at a local wildlife rehabilitation shelter uncover one of the volunteers, who was stealing money and medicine from the organization. Perhaps if you cannot trust your own judgment, you might trust hers."

He tilted his chin at Sador.

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Starbuck pointed in Sador's direction. "Her? She appeared out of nowhere! Showed up on my doorstep one day and never left. How the hell am I supposed to know what she's thinking?" She folded her arms across her chest. "Besides, last I checked, we didn't have dogs barking at Boomer before she shot the Old Man. Oh wait, that never would have happened anyway, because we don't employ the 'First Colonial Dog Squad' to discover and intercept cylons. But I am so glad that penguin worked out for you." What a frakking ridiculous idea.

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Ray shot her a don't make fun of the Mountie (even though he is completely unhinged, seriously, penguins? What?) At least it's not an Inuit story glare, and then leaned forward to beckon to Sador. "I-Am-An-Evil-Robot," he said, softly, in an extremely bad "mechanical" voice. "Where-Is-John-Connor?"

He stopped with his hands on his thighs and looked up at Starbuck from underneath his eyelashes. "You know what? If you can't even trust your own freaking dog, you've got more problems than...than I know how to deal with, okay? Besides, exactly what the heck do you think I'm gonna do around here?"

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The joke was unfortunately lost on Starbuck. Then again, it was probably just as well.

"I don't know, and you might not either. Which is why I have every reason to have more problems than you know how to deal with."

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Fraser looked askance at Ray during the attempt to impersonate a robot. Considering that she did in fact suspect him of being a robot, this didn't exactly seem the most prudent course of action.

"Perhaps, under the... rather unusual... circumstances, the best course of action might be simply that we make an attempt to stay out of your way Miss... Kara," he finally offered. "A gesture of good will... or at least an attempt to be less of an annoyance."

He glanced at Diefenbaker.

"I'd offer to make the same promise for my wolf, but... you see, he rarely listens to me."

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