Author's Notes: Written for the LJ community Writer's Choice prompt #646, Scale

Fraser had been noticing Ray a bit more as of late, a feeling of concern working through his mind the last couple of weeks, though what it was, he couldn't place. But it wasn't until he was walking behind Ray, noting the way that Ray's pants seemed to hang more loose, not showing off Ray's assets, that it finally hit him. Ray seemed to be losing weight.

Not that Ray had any extra weight to lose; far from it. Ray was the definition of thin, contrasted to Fraser's more muscular bulk. And while Ray had the biceps and shoulders of a boxer, there was very little additional muscle or even subcutaneous fat that could be found upon his body. The loss of view hit Fraser - first because it was so striking. But foremost, because it was then that he realized he was actually looking.

Once he figured it out, he started noticing Ray closer, especially around the mealtimes that they shared. And while Ray complained about his stomach during one lunch (that he picked at) and had another abandoned dinner the next day (aborted only because someone decided to rob the diner they were in, and by the time they were finished with the perp, Diefenbaker had cleaned both their plates), Fraser came up with a perfect solution. As they finished paperwork, and the clock crept slowly towards their weekend, when Ray started getting antsy to leave, Fraser suggested pizza and beer. After all, it was a perfect meal while they watched a Blackhawks game, and something they'd done dozens of times before.

Refilling his glass of milk, Fraser returns to the couch, a beer in his other hand. He sits down, offering it to Ray, who takes it without looking away from the screen. It's Ray's second, so Fraser figures he's getting at least some calories, but Fraser turns his attention to the pizza box, where just one slice of pizza has been consumed by Ray, to Fraser's three. He tries to pay attention to the game though he slyly watches as Ray takes a second piece of pizza from the box - which is good. But after only a few nibbles, Ray pulls off a bit of the crust, and sneakily tries to hand the thick doughy treat to Diefenbaker as he drops the pizza back on the cardboard container.

"Ray," Fraser starts. "Are you feeling well?"

"'m fine," Ray absently mumbles.

"Ray."

"Ray."

"Ray-"

"Fraser - what?" Ray finally turns his attention away from the television.

It was then that Fraser was actually unsure exactly what words to use. After studying Ray's expression, he finally settles on, "Are you ill?"

"Why?" Ray asks. "I got spots or something?" He raises a hand, touching his forehead, then the back of his neck, even breathing into his hand to smell his breath for good measure. "Seriously, Fraser, I'm fine." Ray barely turns back to the television when he whips his head around suddenly, asking, "Why?"

Fraser opens his mouth to respond, and then blushes. The words turn over in his head for a moment and he finally decides on, "Well, Ray. From what I have been able to ascertain and due to certain corporeal form deviations in your gluteal musculature, it appears that your lean body weight appears to be significantly lower than the weight you have maintained since we began our partnership."

He certainly couldn't say Ray suddenly has a skinny ass, now can he?

"Corporeal? Lean body..." Ray looks at Fraser, then turns his gaze on his self, looking up and down his body. "Are you saying you noticed I lost some weight?"

"I am, Ray," Fraser says, glad that Ray hadn't picked up on every word he had said. Fraser could be creatively obfuscative when the situation called for it.

Ray studies Fraser for a moment, then nods his head before turning back to the television. "I have dropped a couple of pounds. But that's because I've uhh," and then he stops, raises his hand to the back of his neck, then says, "I've been trying to figure something out. And I usually think better when I do some running, so I've been doing a few miles a day. In the mornings." With a sigh, he adds, "I wouldn't have even noticed myself, except I finally stepped on the scale this morning and saw I was down a few el-bees."

"Well what about your eating habits?" Fraser asks, indicating the untouched remains of the pizza.

"I don't like to eat too much at dinner if I'm running in the morning," Ray says. "Don't make for a good run."

Nodding, Fraser accepts the explanation. "Well good. I'm glad that my concern was unwarranted."

"Hey. Thanks for checking up on me, though, Frase," Ray says with a wink.

It quiet again, just the sound of the Blackhawks announcers calling out the plays filling the room, until there's a hint of a chuckle. Fraser turns to his partner, finding the biggest grin on his face. "Yes, Ray?"

"Gluteal musculature, Fraser?" Ray asks, his head slowly turning from the screen until he held Fraser's gaze. "You saying you noticed my bony ass got bonier?"

Almost immediately a blush suffuses across Fraser's face. "Well, I..." But Fraser could never lie to Ray - even though the mischievous grin that is aimed at him is screaming at him to be honest and cut the obfuscation. "Yes, Ray. I did notice your bony backside."

"Cool," is all Ray says in reply, as his eyes go back to the screen. "But you know, what I lost in my ass, I've more than made up in my quads." And he flexes his legs, Fraser automatically reaching out, touching the rough denim material and appreciating the muscled flesh beneath. But instead of withdrawing his hand, Ray just puts his own down on top, letting their fingers rest where they sit.

After a few minutes, Ray scoots closer to Fraser, until they're touching shoulders to knees on the couch. And Fraser wonders if he and Ray both finally figured it out.