Geometry

Chapter 13

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"Fuck, Frase, I hate moving!"

Ray dumped the fifty-pound bag of Dief's kibble in the middle of the kitchen floor. He wasn't hauling it another inch. He and Frase had been moving all morning and afternoon, and Ray ached in places he barely remembered having.

The apartment was full of cardboard boxes and assorted things too awkward to pack, like his bike and neon clock, and if it weren't for the spaciousness of the place, there wouldn't even be room to move. Ray couldn't believe he'd been worried about them not having enough stuff to fill up the apartment. The thought of all the unpacking made him quail. Packing had been bad enough, and he'd been cramming that in whenever he had a spare minute for the last week, which made for some irritating moments when he couldn't find something and hadn't a clue which box to look in. He just hoped his beloved Bulls t-shirt reappeared at some point...

Exhausted, Ray flopped down on their new couch and wished desperately for a beer. "Aw, shit, Frase, we forgot beer!"

In the kitchen unpacking Ray's cow-patterned dishes, Fraser forbore to lecture his partner about his language. The temperature soared to over a hundred again today, and Chicago was having a genuine heat emergency. With his higher body temperature and subcutaneous fat layer, Ray flatly forbade Fraser hauling boxes, grumbling he was not nursing his partner through a case of heatstroke, and assigned him unpacking duty instead. That meant Ray had done all the heavy lifting and carrying in this brutal heat, and even with the help of the freight elevator and a couple of moving dollies, his t-shirt and denim cutoffs were soaked with sweat and his wildly spiked hair was a wilted wreck.

It would have been worse, but after they'd got to the wharf with the rental truck, Dief greeted them enthusiastically, took off and showed back up twenty minutes later with a dozen of Marina's student tenants, Theresa leading the way. Between the kids they'd gotten the rental truck emptied out in short order, and Theresa even offered to take the truck back. Ray slipped her a couple of fifties for the group in fervent gratitude and promised to fix her next traffic ticket. She grinned and took off with a lanky boy with spiked hair so similar to his it made Ray chuckle.

The stuff they'd picked out Saturday had been delivered, the mattresses and frames, Fraser's nightstands, the new couch, and the polished brass coat rack Fraser mysteriously took a liking to at the furniture store. Ray didn't mind; it made a handy place to hang his shoulder holster. The apartment might be a mess, but at least it wasn't as bare as Ray feared. And the air conditioning worked great.

He looked over at Dief, sprawled in the floor in front of the AC vent. "Suppose the Doc would spot me a beer, Dief?"

Dief raised his head and yipped once. Really, since Theresa clued him in about the yes-and-no trick the folks around the wharf used to talk to the big wolf, it made things a lot easier even if Ray didn't speak wolf.

The wolf heaved himself to his feet, trotted over to the door in the living room wall that didn't seem to go anywhere and barked twice. Frase and Ray exchanged startled glances as the lock popped and the door opened slightly. Dief nosed it open and disappeared through it. Ray got up, shoved his way past several boxes and his bike, and pushed the door open, looking through.

"Hey, Frase, this goes right into Mina's apartment. It's that door by her bookcases. I thought it was a coat closet."

Fraser came around the breakfast bar and stood beside Ray, looking through the open door. "I don't think we should be in Doctor MacLeod's apartment without an invitation, Ray," he said dubiously.