Work Text:
Ray Vecchio keeps looking in the mirror like he does every morning in Vegas, seeing an undercover Chicago cop turning into Armando "The Bookman" Langoustini. He's preparing for another day and night undercover with the Mob. He thinks of how the persona of Armando has been cultivated to be inside him, and he feels it taking hold again.
"Cultivated," he murmurs aloud, and laughs mirthlessly at the thought of science fiction pod people growing into inhuman replicas of humans. For a moment he feels unwell at the comparison, how on the surface it's hard to tell the original from the copy, the human from the inhuman.
When Ray turns away from the mirror, Armando's ghost is there as he sometimes is, and Armando says in greeting "September 21, Raimondo. Ray Vecchio's birthday is being celebrated somewhere, but not here."
