(no subject)

[ozsaur.livejournal.com]

Many thanks to Cliona for fast and helpful beta. Thanks also to Ana for a look over and to Ardent for getting me here.



Duly Noted


Ray found the first Post-It note tacked in the middle his front door.
He read it, crumpled it then tossed it over the stair rail, not caring
where it landed.

He found the second in all its square, yellow neatness stuck in the
exact spot on his windshield where it would block his vision. He
plucked it off and tore it into a million tiny pieces without reading
it. As the bits drifted away on the breeze, he felt a mean
satisfaction that Fraser would disapprove of the litter buggage of the
street.

He found the next one stuck to the telephone on his desk at work. That
one ended up wadded in a ball and lobbed into the waste basket.
Another one was tacked in the precise center of the back of his chair.
That too ended up in the trash.

He sat down and pulled the Emerson file off the top of the stack where
he found the next one on the inside of the folder. Snarling, he
snatched it off and threw it under his desk. Hours later he would
discover it again, stuck to the heel of his boot.

One was handed to him by the guy at his favorite hot dog stand. It
ended up in the gutter.

The lady at the dry cleaners rolled her eyes when he yanked it off the
protective plastic covering the suits he wore to court. He threw it in
the garbage bin.

The last one was on the box of pizza delivered by Sandor. Ray shoved
open his window and set the Post-It free with a curse.

Ray got a beer, sat down on the couch and fumed for a while. When he
opened the pizza box, he found, written in black marker on the
cardboard, the same message he'd been refusing to read all day.

Ray - Please call me.

There was nothing left to do. Ray grabbed the box of pizza and tossed
it out the window.

The next morning, there was no Post-It note on the door. No Post-It
on the car. No Post-It on the telephone. He wasn't really looking for
them anyway.

When he got home, he sat for a while, trying to get the hot dog he'd
had for lunch to settle down. Sighing he finally picked up the phone.

"This is the Canadian Con-"

"You kissed her."

There was a long pause then, "Ray, I am sorry I couldn't bring myself
to be rude enough to fling her to the ground and castigate her for her
effrontery--"

"You. Kissed. Her."

Another pause, "If you couldn't tell that -she- was kissing -me- and
that I was attempting to reject her advances, then I don't see the
point of discussing it any further."

Ray sat and listened to the dial tone until it started that annoying
beeping noise.

*****

Fraser found the first Post-It note on the outside of his office door.

Comments

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

The detail of this is wonderful, and the best part is that unlike the notes, we have no details at all about the woman in question -- and we don't need them. But the end line is the best, because you just see the whole thing rolling on its merry way, and that just made me grin.

[ozsaur.livejournal.com]

You're right, the woman wasn't the important element. Women fling themselves at Fraser all the time. This was about Ray and Fraser. Thank you for your comments!