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Ray woke to the sound of his apartment door closing. He bolted upright and had his glasses askew on his face and one hand on his gun before Fraser appeared in his bedroom doorway, all apologetic-like, holding a -- was that a picnic basket?
"Fraser, what the hell," he said, more surprised than angry. He let go of the gun -- which was empty anyhow, and what was he going to do if it had been an actual break-in, throw the gun at the guy? -- and adjusted his glasses as he glanced at the digital clock next to his bed. Eight a.m. Eight a.m. on a Saturday. "There'd better be a whole keg of coffee in that basket and a dead body at the precinct with my name on it, buddy."
"I'm sorry to have startled you, Ray." Fraser really did look sorry, so Ray generously decided to forgive him. Fraser gave him a small smile and then approached the bed, from which Ray hadn't actually moved. He sat on the edge, a lot closer than he would have a month ago, way back before Ray'd said "Forget this" in the middle of an argument about pizza toppings of all things and leaned across the GTO to kiss Fraser right on the mouth.
Fraser set the picnic basket on the other side of the bed.
"It's simply that -- well, last year, when we were assigned to protect Alderman Orsini and--" Fraser cleared his throat a bit nervously, "--your ex-wife, you made a somewhat disparaging comment about the idea of ... breakfast dates."
"Breakfast dates."
"Yes, Ray. Breakfast dates."
Ray blinked and shook his head. "Jeez, Fraser, you remember that?"
"Oh, yes, Ray," Fraser answered solemnly. "I remember it well. You insisted that breakfast dates were -- I believe the word you used was 'stupid' -- because the purpose of a date is to get into a bed, not out of a bed."
Ray felt the smile spread across his face until he was grinning. "Wow, you really do remember that."
"Indeed."
"So this is ..."
"This is me proving you wrong, Ray." Fraser smirked, which was something else he did a lot more now that the two of them were partners partners, and started unpacking the basket.
"I don't know, Ben," Ray said, stretching his arms over his head, loving the way Fraser's gaze moved up and down the length of his torso, the way his eyes grew bright at the sight. "I don't feel much of an urge to get out of this bed right now. In fact, I think I could stay in this bed all day."
Fraser stared at him, blinked, looked at the picnic basket, and then looked back at Ray.
"That," he said in a slightly strangled voice, "is also an option."