Good For The Soul (for fraser_rcmp)

[r_vecchio]

It took a little longer to get to the Consulate than Ray had initially imagined. He had been topping up Kowalski's coffee cup all morning, never leaving it less than three quarters full in the hopes that at some point his partner would need to relieve himself. Turns out Kowalski has a pretty damn good bladder, large too; but at the first signs of discomfort, Ray had sprung up impatiently and offered to get him another drink, Kowalski wincing and shooting out of his chair. He was higher and twitchier than a four year old on sugar but even the wonders of caffeine couldn't interfere with the basics of human nature. Ray'd slipped out whilst Welsh was tied up with IA and Kowalski was still finishing in the bathroom. On his way out, he topped up the idle coffee mug again and left a sprinkles-covered donut on Kowalski's desk. He figured that could maybe salve his conscience for the time being. It was sneaky, he knew, but it was far better than telling a hyped-up cop with a hell of a temper that he was taking his husband out to lunch and oh yeah, sorry pal, but you're not invited.

He pulled up at the Consulate and kept the engine ticking over, winding down the passenger window and squinting up out of it for Fraser. He'd already decided he wouldn't be getting out and going inside.

Comments

[fraser-rcmp.livejournal.com]

"Very well," Fraser says with a short, stiff nod. He has no real place to argue considering he hadn't, in fact, put any thought at all into where they should go like he'd been asked to do. They could have ended up just about anywhere and his appetite would have been the same: nonexistent.

[r-vecchio.livejournal.com]

Ray looks back to the street without another word, rolling his shoulders in an obvious effort to loosen up, maybe even relax a little. He's taken Fraser to lunch hundreds of times before and if there's a touch of deja vu about this particular situation, then Ray choses to ignore it.

"Kowalski's eating donuts for lunch," he says, taking the corner slower than usual and crawling along the road. "He's worse than the wolf sometimes." At least that's changed - there's no hint of malice in his voice when he's talking about his Polack partner.

Parking spots are kind of hard to find around Eddie's at lunch time. Ray ends up straddling the Riv half on the sidewalk, half on the road and cutting the engine pretty quick, wondering why he hadn't just dumped the car at the precinct and walked it.

[fraser-rcmp.livejournal.com]

"Is he?" Fraser asks. He'd probably never compare Ray's eating habits to Diefenbaker's, but the idea of him having donuts for lunch is slightly worrisome. Part of him wishes Ray could have come, too, but the rest of him understands why he couldn't. That part of him has understood for some time now, even if he's pretended otherwise.

When the engine is shut off, Fraser makes no immediate effort to move. His seatbelt remains buckled, hat still on the dashboard as he continues to sit as if awaiting an invitation. He can't help but remember when Ray had returned to Chicago, how he'd taken him out for lunch and exploded in the dining area. This wasn't anything like that, not really, yet there the memory way, at the front of his mind.

He'd really rather not ruin anyone elses' lunchtime this afternoon, if it wasn't too much to ask.

[r-vecchio.livejournal.com]

Ray's out of the Riv and pocketing his keys, expecting Fraser's head to pop up the other side of the car at any moment. When the time doesn't come he leans down and hangs off the doorframe, peering into the car.

"You coming or what?" He offers Fraser a smile, a genuine one, only a little nervous around the edges. Pushing off the Riv, he straightens up and backs down the sidewalk towards Eddie's, waiting for his friend to follow.