Looks like I picked the wrong day...

by Trish Darbyfeld

ObDisclaimer: This story contains references
          to implied solvent abuse and at least one `jeez'.
          You have been warned.

          All characters remain the property of Alliance,
          and I promise to put them back where I found them
          when I've finished playing with them.
          Which might be sometime next millennium at the
          rate I'm going. :)

     Detective Ray Vecchio let out a sigh that was more of a
     groan and sagged forward, resting his forehead on the file
     he was reading.  "Ahh, jeez.  What a day."

     On the other side of the desk, his *de facto* partner
     Constable Benton Fraser was, unusually for him, leaning
     back in the visitor's chair with his feet propped on the

     wastebasket.  Collar undone and tie hanging on the hatstand, 
     sleeves rolled up and hair dishevelled from him running his
     fingers through it, Fraser looked positively ruffled --
     for him.    "It *is* proving to be one of those days,
     isn't it?"

     Ray straightened with a groan, indulging in a bone-popping

     spine stretch.  "That *was* a rhetorical question, wasn't it, 
     Frasier?" he groused.

     Instead of his usual "Yes Ray," Fraser merely muttered "Yeah, 
     it was."  Which demonstrated how tired *he* was.

     Ray groaned again, arching his back and running his own
     fingers through his hair.  "Looks like I picked the
     wrong week to quit sniffing white-out."

     That made Fraser look at him sharply.  "Sniffing white-out?" 

     "Yeah," said Ray in tones of great satisfaction.  "Sniffing
     white-out."  With that Ray picked up the correction fluid
     from where it sat in readiness for his next typing bout,
     applied it to one nostril, sniffed deeply and pantomimed

     a state of happy dazedness; goofy smile, glazed eyes and all. 

     "Er, Ray," Fraser pointed out.  "Surely if you're going to
     inhale that stuff -- and I'd advise you *not* to -- you
     should take the cap *off*?"

     "Hey, Benny," said Ray in tones of great satisfaction,
     "with my nose you don't *need* to take the cap off."

     With that he applied the correction fluid to the other
     nostril, inhaled deeply, assumed the same expression of
     dazed goofiness, reeled slightly and sank to the floor.
     While Diefenbaker went to check on him, Fraser, Elaine,
     and the Duck boys exchanged bemused glances, shrugged
     practically in unison, and offered Ray a round of applause
     for his acting talent.

     "Fuzz, get your whiskers out from up my nose," came a mutter 
     from under the desk.