Title: The Kopper King Tavern
Author: nona.
Rating: Adult.
Genre: Romance.
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio.
Notes: Ben finds a bit of home in Chicago.
Ray Vecchio sat in Ben Fraser's quiet office listening to the tick of the wall clock and watching the wolf doze in the chair by the window. Ray studied Dief and waited for Ben to break his pretense and explain why he really wasn't available to go to dinner with him that night.
"Is Thatcher planning some sort of Canadian takeover that requires only your help? You haven't been free for months, Benny," Ray asked finally breaking the stillness.
Ben almost smiled as he toyed with his pen.
"No, Ray. It's nothing as elaborate as that," he explained and began to straighten the papers on his desk.
He kept his eyes on his paperwork to avoid Ray's distinctly inquisitive expression.
Ray stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat and shrugged his shoulders. It was clear that he was only going to get the run around from his friend.
"I'm sorry that I can't have dinner with you tonight. But, I'll let you know when I can."
Ray gave up and rose from his seat. He'd been trying to cajole Ben into getting some human contact outside of the somber face of the Queen peering out at him from the portrait hanging on the far wall, but he'd had enough.
"Sure, Benny. Another time," Ray answered dismissively and without another word, he turned on heel and exited the office.
Ben watched him go and felt a twinge of remorse. He almost got up from his desk in order to catch Ray so that he could explain what was actually occupying his time. But the action never made it passed the thought and Ben turned his attention back to his paperwork.
Forty minutes later, the wall clock chimed the top of the hour, softly signaling that it was safe for him to call it a day. He got up from the desk and closed the office door with a nudge of his boot toe.
The wolf stirred in the leather arm chair when Ben opened the closet door. He smiled fondly at his wolf and undressed quickly. He changed out of his uniform and into a clean pair of blue jeans and a long sleeved blue denim shirt. After lacing up his hiking boots and shrugging on his leather jacket, Ben cast a glance at Dief. Opening the office door he asked,
"Ready, boy?"
Dief scrambled off the chair and eagerly trotted out of the office. Ben picked up the guitar case that had been leaning against the wall by the door and followed his wolf out.
It started to snow as he and Dief waited at the bus stop. Ben turned his face up towards the darkly mottled sky and felt the wet flakes dissolve into cold tears on his warm skin. Exceedingly tempted to open his mouth to catch them, he stopped himself just the bus cut sharply towards the curb and began its deceleration. When it finally stopped, the folding doors jerked open and peeking in, Ben was glad to see that he recognized the driver.
"Evening, Fraser," the driver said with a smile and then glanced down at the white animal peering up at her with big brown eyes from the first step on the bus.
"How are you, Eleanor?" he asked.
She smiled and with a jerk of her head, she gestured that the both of them get aboard the bus. Ben returned her smile and paid the fare for two.
Eleanor had been driving the same line for three years now and one night out of the blue, came this young man with a white dog, and a lame story about it being a police dog that needed to ride the bus with him on police business. It wasn't against the DOT rules to allow service dogs aboard buses, but any random pet wasn't allowed. If he hadn't been wearing that bright red and black uniform, and if the dog hadn't been on a leash, she would have shut the doors in his face and driven off. But he'd been so polite and had explained so earnestly that she'd suspended her disbelief and allowed him aboard with his promise to get picture identification for the dog.
Fraser had ridden the bus three nights during the week and once on Saturday night, for the last four months. He always paid for himself as well as the fare for the dog that was now properly photo identified. He didn't make any trouble. The dog stayed out of sight and didn't make any trouble either. Unfortunately, she couldn't say the same about some of the passengers that rode her bus.
Tucking the guitar upright between his knees, Ben looked down at the wolf sitting comfortably by his feet. He gave Dief's wet head a stroke and then a scratch.
They rode in silence on the relatively deserted bus for nearly an hour. When Eleanor announced his stop and drew close to the street's curb, Ben got up, bid her a goodnight and got off the bus. It was snowing much harder now and was beginning to pile up on the sidewalk in thick white drifts. He walked briskly down two blocks before turning down a brightly lighted side street. The building was a two story brick faced structure and Ben looked up at the blue and white neon sign that read: "The Kopper King Tavern".
Four months ago, he would have never thought of going to the Kopper King. He just wasn't the saloon type of man. But after seeing a flyer advertising a Calgary born band that played there regularly, his curiosity had been piqued for it reminded him very much of his life north of the border. He'd once visited a bar of the same name on the Alaskan Highway outside of Whitehorse. Although it hadn't been a pleasure visit, but a fact finding mission, Ben knew that by offering to buy the first pitcher, tongues would loosen more than if he'd approached the locals on any other basis.
The Chicago version of the Kopper King was nothing like the one he'd seen in the Yukon, but it still had its down home dim and cramped local charm. It was a place where a man could go to meet interesting people for a night of lively conversation and good familiar music. And it surprised him to find that a large portion of the bar's patrons were Northwestern Canada transplants who had been drawn in by that recognizable name.
Then before he knew it, he had joined in with a few of the regular musicians for a couple of traditional songs one night. His jump into the musical mix escalated into a regular gig. It was so regular that they'd even included his name on the homemade flyers that advertised the motley crew. He'd never felt so apart of something in his life, never felt so welcomed.
Except for when he was with Ray. Ray was the brother and friend he'd always wanted.
The thought of Ray gave him pause and he felt another stab of guilt. He should have at least asked if Ray wanted to come along. But it was too late now. Maybe he'd ask him to come next weekend.
He opened the door directly below the sign and went in. The heat that met him was almost overwhelming however Dief ran inside, happy to escape the frigid temperatures outside. Immediately the wolf darted up the shadowy narrow hallway to greet the woman sitting beside the wooden podium just outside the double wide opening that led to the heart of the tavern. The walls thumped with the muffled bass coming from the jukebox and Ben could hear the joyous voices of people spending a Friday night with friends and a few beers.
"Dief!" the woman squealed and hopped off the stool to embrace the wolf. "Oh, geez, you're all wet!" she cried with delight.
She stood up and shook the water from her bare arms. Her loose chocolate brown tee shirt which sported a Canadian Flag with a smaller American flag where the maple leaf should have been was spotted with melted snow and she plucked at it, pulling it away from her equally as dark skin. She looked up.
"Hey, Ben! What's going on?"
She saw the snow sliding off of the shoulders his leather jacket and held up both hands in a warding off motion.
"I'm not hugging you," she laughed.
Ben grinned foolishly.
"Hi, Val. I'm sorry about Dief."
Val waved it away and gave the panting wolf a pat on the head. Tucking a braided hair behind her ear, she picked up a pen from the top of the podium and scribbled something in the open notepad there.
"Oh, hey, Ben, Eddie is out. He said that he'll be back in about...fifteen minutes. If you want you can go in the back and leave your stuff. And that green box on top of the desk is yours. He said that you'd know what it was."
Ben put the guitar bottom down to rest against his boot.
"Thanks. Where's Agnes, is she here?"
Val looked through the open doors and towards the bar. After scanning the crowd for a moment, she pointed with the tip of her pen.
"She's over there with David and Thelma by the end of the bar in front of the stage."
Ben followed her sights. The backlit bar ran the length of one wall and spotting them, he thanked her. Picking up his guitar he paused and asked,
"You're not staying here tonight, are you?"
He indicated the podium and Val rolled her eyes.
"Josie can be a..." Val paused and seemed to think the better of what she was going to say. "I'll be up there with you guys a few songs in. I've got door duty right now."
Val the scratched at her corn rowed scalp and gave him a sly look.
"If you keep hanging around acting like you work here, she'll put you out here before you know it."
Ben wanted to break into laughter. Door duty didn't bother him in the least. He'd had enough experience thanks to his Inspector.
"I'll keep that in mind, Val," he said instead and went to find Agnes while Dief decided to stay with Val.
Ben trotted down the three steps that led into the bar and threaded his way through the maze of scuffed wood tables and chairs. David spotted him before he got within earshot and lifted a hand in a wave. Agnes turned and her face brightened when she saw who it was. She was standing with one meaty arm slung over her girlfriend's thin shoulders.
"Benton, Merry Meet!" she greeted him, showing a delightful gap between her front teeth. "I'm glad you made it out tonight. I wasn't sure you'd be able to come, with the snow coming and all."
Brushing aside a mass of wild frizzy red hair, she put her beer in her other hand and hugged him with one arm.
Ben grinned at her and shook hands with David.
"Where's Dief-butt?" she asked looking around for him.
"Oh, he's with Val. She'll bring him over afterwards I'm sure."
"Okay, good. I thought you left him with Ray."
Agnes cleared her throat noisily and paused for a moment, just for effect, before she asked, "Where is Ray? You talk so much about him and you said that you'd bring him. Is he here?"
Ben swallowed his guilt again and shook his head.
And the lie made him feel even more reprehensible. But the lie was easier than the truth; the truth for which now he felt infinitely petty for hiding. Agnes cocked a brow and tapped the mouth of the bottle against her small pentacle pendant. The glass against silver made a light tinging noise.
"Ah well...maybe next time, eh? We'll get to meet this elusive friend of yours."
David groaned theatrically and left to get another beer.
Eddie's hand clamping down on his shoulder distracted Ben.
Ben turned and they shook hands in greeting.
"Benny, my man, you made it."
"Ben," he corrected him unobtrusively and with a smile. "It's good to see you, Eddie."
"Ed," Eddie said, mimicking him and then laughed heartily, slapping him on the shoulder. "C'mon, we're on in twenty minutes, you can throw your shit in the back."
Eddie's arm about his shoulders guided him away. And once again, Eddie never asked why Ben never liked being called by that nickname. But even if he had asked, he would never learn that that particular nickname could be used by only one person; and that person wasn't Eddie Cole.
In the back room, Ben hung up his jacket and immediately took out his guitar. Looping the strap over his shoulder, he started testing its tune. Eddie lit a cigarette and flopped down onto the old ratty plaid couch and did the same to his fiddle. They played together for a bit before the rest of the band members began to trickle into the room.
"You nervous, Benton?" Agnes asked.
She rolled her upright base out of the corner near to the dusty piano and unzipped its canvas cover. Pulling it off she folded it into sections against her body with several chopping motions of her arms and walked over to Ben again.
"Nervous, eh?" she asked again.
"A little," he admitted.
"Ah, you'll do fine," she said knocking him in the shoulder.
David was the last to come into the backroom and he already had his electric guitar strapped and ready to go.
"Where's my amp?" he asked Eddie.
"I should know?" he asked in response.
"It's on stage, Dave," Agnes said and began rolling her bass out through the side door that led to the stage.
Ben could hear some wild whoops from the people in the bar and then Agnes telling them good naturedly to "shut up". David grabbed his pick and followed her. Finally Eddie stood up.
He practiced a few more notes and nodding to Ben he grinned around his cigarette.
"Shit, yea, I finally got the bastard," he said referring to the music. "C'mon Benny...I mean ah, Ben. Val said that she'd be with us when you do "You Can't Stay Here". [*lyrics below*]
Ben took in a long breath then he and Eddie joined the rest of them on stage.
True to her word, Val came up on stage and took up her guitar to help them all to accompany Ben's first solo. His surprisingly agile and smoky voice caressed the quietly intimate song and he sang as if the person for whom he meant it was in the room watching and listening. When he was done, the crowd broke into appreciative applause and whistles.
Giddy from the experience Ben relaxed and began to truly enjoy himself. The band ended their forty-five minute set with a crowd wide drunken yet joyful rendition of "Drunken Sailor".
He wanted to stay afterwards, he really did. But it was getting late and he'd been assigned to be at the consulate in the early morning to let the electricians in to do some quick spot work. David, who'd offered to give him a ride back had been held up and was taking care of some business with the tavern owner and had asked Ben to wait a little while for him. While he waited, Ben got a table near the bar and whiled away the time talking with Val until she was pulled away by a phone call.
"You sounded good up there," said a voice coming up behind him.
"Thank y--."
The words died in his mouth when he turned towards the speaker.
"Ray."
"Hey, Benny. You were really great up there. Looked like it was fun."
Ray neither looked nor sounded angry and Ben stopped himself from apologizing.
"I did. I do I enjoy it."
"New hobby?" Ray asked leaning against the side of the bar and looking easily at him.
"Yes, Ray. About four months now."
Ray nodded and was silent. Dief tiptoed over to the two men and circling Ray's legs once, he sat down and leaned against the familiar cop. Ben saw this and felt even worse. Ray was family to him. How could he shut out his family?
Ben opened his mouth to apologize, but Ray interrupted.
"When are you going to be back here?"
"Tomorrow night," he said.
"Can I come?"
The innocent tone of Ray's voice made him smile.
"Yes, Ray. I would like that."
Ray gave him a crooked grin and he reached down to pat Dief's head. The wolf yawned hugely as if to indicate that he was bored with the both of them and just wanted to go home.
"Wanna ride?" Ray asked, "or are you gonna take the bus."
Embarrassed, Ben felt his face heat and he nodded, conceding to the fact that he'd been caught.
"Ah...just me tell David. Wait right here."
Once he'd gone, Ray turned to Dief.
"Why didn't you tell me you two were sneaking off to come here? I thought we were friends?"
The wolf snorted indelicately and lay down.
When Ben returned he was carrying a narrow shoebox and a plastic baggie of what looked colored candies. Ray snagged the baggie and untwisting the twist-tie he got a small handful of what he thought were oversized M&Ms chocolates.
"They're Smarties, Ray," Ben told him.
"They look like M&Ms."
He threw some into his mouth.
"They're similar. Only Canadian."
"And not sweet!" Ray groused around his mouthful.
Ben laughed and grabbed his guitar case.
"I'm ready when you are, Ray."
Ray continued to dissolve the chocolate in his mouth as he buttoned his coat and pulled on his leather and shearling skullcap.
Ben ran into Agnes outside the tavern and gladly introduced her to Ray. But before they left, Agnes caught Ben's arm and drew him away.
"Honey, you know you sang that song wrong," she said loud enough so that Ray, who was standing a respectable distance away, could hear.
Ben shot a panicked look in his direction and hoped Agnes would leave it at that.
"Agnes, please," he begged in a low voice.
She grinned again and pulling him closer, she ducked her head conspiratorially.
"Listen, Benton. I love you, you know? But if you intentionally slip 'his arms' instead of 'her arms' into that song one more time, I'll tell him myself."
She nodded towards Ray.
"I'm an adult, Agnes. I can handle it. Please, I don’t want you to get involved."
Agnes straightened and airily tossed her multicolored scarf over her shoulders.
"Suit yourself, Benton. But don't wait too long. Fine looking guy like that, he's bound to get snapped up sooner or later. Better by you, don't you think?"
She then pinched his cheek and went back into the bar.
"C'mon, Benny! I'm freezing out here!"
Ben picked up his guitar again and walked to where Ray was standing. In the hard bright moonlight, he looked happy with his face flushed from the cold and his hazel eyes shining. And Ben was tempted to kiss that smiling face. But he just gave that half grin of his and walked with him to the Riv waiting down the street. There would be other chances to tell him. Maybe tomorrow.
Your company's good, I know,
But I must wake up alone, and the party is over
You can't stay here
I'm moments away from sleep
And what you want to say, can keep
Till I'm awake and I'm sober
You can't stay here
When everyone else has gone
I've nothing for you, no song
To sing for you only
You can't stay here
And maybe you can't see why
But I'm an old fashioned guy
And I'd rather be lonely
Maybe you think I'm unkind when I tell you to go away;
I know what you offer, and I could be softer
And tell you to stay.
But to me you're a stranger. To touch you is danger
I know it's true.
'Cause what I've got at home is too dear
To risk for an hour with you.
You can't stay here!
I'll be all right alone,
And when I'm safe in (her arms) at home
I'll thank you for leaving
You can't stay here.
