(no subject)

Fraser? I want you to come to lunch with me. Or I can come over to yours, I don't care. Just choose somewhere and tell me where.

Good For The Soul (for fraser_rcmp)

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.