For Ynez

Okay, so he should've rung her by now. It's been over a week. He really should have rung her by now.

Ray stares at the desk phone for a minute, contemplating his options. He could phone from work and then if he feels like he's going to screw it up, he can just use a case or something as an excuse to hang up. Or he could take his lunch break early, talk to her then on his mobile. But Kowalski's already out of the precinct, somewhere with Fraser doing...whatever they do for lunch. Eat, Ray hopes. So that means he can't really leave the 2-7 just yet. That leaves option three. Don't call.

And that's not really an option at all.

He sighs and looks at the case notes in front of him. They've got a couple of leads, nothing major at the moment. It's a busted bank job. Security camera shots are kind of fuzzy and the guy bolted before he could even point his faux weapon at any of the people inside. Criminals these days just don't have the bottle to see these things through, Ray thinks. Shame. He and Kowalski have got to go question a couple of witnesses later but Ray doesn't think it'll be real fruitful. Sort of a futile attempt but they're cops, so...futility comes with the job.

He shoves the reports and paper work (still unfinished, Ray swears Kowalski is worse at filing than he is) to the side and reaches for his mobile. He passes it from hand to hand for a second before flipping it around to face him. He thumbs fly over the buttons.

Hey, I'm still alive.

Ynez Castillo. Send.

Jesus Christ, still a coward too.

He drums his fingers on the table for as long as he can bear before scrolling through his address book and landing on Ynez's number. He really should have rung her by now. Rubbing at his jaw, he punches her number into the phone on the desk, lifts the receiver and pockets his cell.