Author's Notes: Written for the Courteous Ray Challenge at ds_flashfiction. Thanks to China Shop for beta. Title from 1 2 3, by the Indigo Girls.

When Ray opened the front door of the new house and saw Vecchio standing there with a suitcase in his hand and a look on his face like he'd forgotten Ray existed, his first impulse was to slam the door shut again. But then Fraser called out from the kitchen, and it turned into kind of a farce: "Who's at the door, Ray?"

"Ray."

"Ray?"

"Ray Vecchio."

"Ray Vecchio?" And Fraser came down the hallway, wiping his hands on a dishcloth, a puzzled frown giving way to a great big smile like Ray had maybe only seen on his face once or twice.

"Got your address from the Consulate," Vecchio said as Fraser shepherded him through to the tiny kitchen, and Ray tuned out the words, not wanting to hear apologies and explanations. His head was buzzing and his heart dropped right through his stomach like a stone. He took Vecchio's bag and coat and threw them in the spare room, and then went into the main bedroom and shoved some clothes into his gym bag, shrugged into his holster and coat like he was on autopilot, and scooped up his keys from the dresser.

Dief was in the backyard harassing the Chicago squirrel population, the Goat was parked on the street, thank Christ, and all Ray had to do before slipping out the front door was to scribble a note and leave it on the hall table.

I just have to go. Be back soon. A week, maybe. Love you,

Ray.