Rating: PG

Category: Humor, Snapshot

Disclaimer: They belong to Alliance, not me . . . I'm just taking them out to play!

Notes: Not betaed, but the idea came to me when I woke up at 4:30 and managed to fall back asleep . . . and it was still with me when I woke up at non-Fraser time, so I'm going with it!

Call Me Julius

Debbie Hann, March 15, 2000

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ray pounded on the steering wheel. "Today sucked, Fraser! Sucked! First I'm out of Smarties, so my coffee doesn't even taste right, which, it turns out, didn't matter all the much since I spilled most of it all over my lap in the car. Then I get to work and Stella is there giving me sour looks cuz I messed up some forms and she can't read my handwriting. Handwriting!" He threw his partner a look filled with frustration, "Don't you think that after all the time we were married, she'd've figured that when I'm in a hurry, my g's and y's look a lot alike?"

Fraser didn't have time for even a polite response before the tide of Ray's words continued rushing forward.

"Didn't have time for lunch, an' then, even though we caught a bad guy, Welsh thought we took, and I quote, "a needless risk," so he reams me a new one. And now," he punctuated his words by pounding his fist into car top by his ear, "the GTO is making a funny noise. I'm cursed," he moaned, dropping his head as he pulled into a parking place by the Chinese restaurant. "Cursed."

Searching for something to say that might help, the word "curse" sparked something in Fraser's mind. "Well, you know Ray, today is the Ides of March."

Ray slowly lifted his head, slanting a look at his partner in the passenger seat. He took in the Wide-Eyed Mountie Look and knew he was being teased. Trying to hide an answering smile, he said, "Fraze, I told ya' I wasn't into that voodoo hocus-pocus jujitsu thing."

"Right you are, Ray."

A few minutes later, Ray was taking his remaining frustrations out on a bowl of extra spicy Mongolian beef, and Fraser thought it might be a good time to briefly revisit one of the earlier issues.

"Ray," he started, gesturing slightly with noodle-laden chopsticks, "Lt. Welsh may have had a point about the risk involved in what you--,"

"Whoa!" Frustration and amusement threaded though his tone, "You, the Mountie, car chasing Canadian, are lecturing me on risky maneuvers?" Throwing his own wide-eyed look, Ray grinned at his friend, "Et tu, Benton, et tu?"

The End

Copyright Deborah Hann, March 2000