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The yellow square stuck to his phone was the first thing Ray saw when he got to work and dumped his jacket on his chair. 


Welsh called me early this morning, he couldn't reach you. Mentioned something about voicemail. I'm at Fairfield Street, meet you there.


Glancing at Welsh's office, Ray caught sight of gruff eyebrows raised in his direction and gave a meek wave before picking up his jacket and car keys. Fraser owed him a coffee. 


Pausing mid stride at the sight of another yellow square on his phone, Ray sighed. He and Fraser really needed to have words about work boundaries and boundaries in general. This was the second morning in a row. 

Reaching his desk and picking it up, he screwed it up and tossed it in the trash can. As he sat down, his gaze landed on a large take-out cup of coffee from O'Niell's. Tentatively Ray reached out and wrapped his fingers around it. Still hot. Frowning, he rescued the post-it note from the trash and opened it up. 


Regarding yesterday morning. You're quite right, I was out of line. Please accept this token of apology. With extra chocolate. Call me later? 


A small smile played over Ray's lips and he sipped the coffee. The sweetness spilled over his tongue. How did Fraser always get it just right? 


Humming to himself as he picked up his phone, Ray noticed the post-it stuck to the photo frame on his desk. 


I have tickets to a Bulls game courtesy of the consulate. I am told they are optimum seats. Not sure if you'll be interested. Call me? 


Ray huffed and pursed his lips, fingering the slip of paper. Hanging up his current call, he hesitated thoughtfully. Then, with a smile, he pressed the speed dial button for the Canadian consulate. 


Weeks passed before the next little slip of paper appeared on his desk. This time in pastel pink. The Consulate must have had a stationery upgrade. Ray snickered then scowled at the neat handwriting. 


We're out of milk. I'll be over later tonight because of the visiting dignitaries. I've left some food in the refrigerator, so you needn't order take out. Please remember to feed Dief, he chose not to accompany me this morning.

Thank you kindly


Ray snorted and peered at the wolf hiding under his desk. "Dignitaries pissed you off too, huh?" 

The wolfy grumble was all the answer Ray needed. 

"Yeah, me too buddy. What say we get pizza tonight? Just you and me." 

Dief barked and Ray grinned. 


Ray flung his jacket onto his desk and slumped heavily into his chair. 

"What's got into you?" Frannie peered at him, absently chewing gum. 

"You know how you never really know someone until you live with them?" 

Francesca smirked and took the post-it note Ray held out. 


I would appreciate it if you wouldn't leave your soiled coffee mug in the sink for days. The remains of chocolate smarties harden to a near impossible to clean sludge. If you must add an unhealthy amount to your coffee, have the decency to rinse it first. 


"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?" 

Francesca chuckled. 

"What is so damn funny, Frannie?" 

She shrugged. "Well, it's not like Fraser being a neat freak has come as a surprise, Ray. I mean, wasn't it only last week he reorganized your sock drawer, and you said, and I quote, 'he's going to be the death of me, but I've never had cleaner clothes'?" 

Ray scowled. "Do you have a point?" 

Giving him back the post-it, Francesca smiled. "I don't know, Ray. I think you secretly like someone take care of you. It's not like you were doing a stand up job before was it?" She popped her bubblegum and sauntered off. 

"Thanks, for nothing, Frannie," Ray muttered sullenly. 



Thank you for the delivery of maple syrup to the consulate. It was very thoughtful, if unnecessary. You have made Turnbull quite happy, however. I had a chance to think over what you yelled at me, and there is a six pack in the refrigerator. I hope you can accept my apology too. 

Yours, Ben. 

P. S. I'll be home early."