JDM for the soul
Soooo I just had dinner with probably the last person i'll get to say goodbye to, and it was a good dinner, it was excellent, but still. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. I decided to take myself to see The Losers to cheer myself up.
( CLAY/ROQUE, I SHIP IT. LIKE BURNING. )
“Wait, this is the lady who protested at the skeet shoot for the fair?” Hanging on to Fraser was harder than it looked, the man limp and all-but-dead weight even as he beamed happily into Ray’s face.
“It was understandable, Ray. She has valid points, and after I explained very firmly about the sabotage-“
Ray slung one of Fraser’s arms over his shoulders. “This is the same gal who’s sixty-four and drives a Humvee? Who just renewed the gun license for a revolver?”
“And the one who orders her ‘special brand’ of tea from Harold Mills over in Creekfront,” Tony murmured. He was laughing, the sick bastard, as Ray tried to steer an uncoordinated Mountie toward the door to the bar.
At that, though, Ray stopped dead. “You’re kidding me.”
Fraser’s look had gone thoughtful. “It was indeed a rather strange taste, Ray, but quite lovely. The incense she uses in the house is very strong, and I couldn’t quite make out what blend-- oh.” His eyes got wide and startled, his mouth dropping into a nearly-perfect O. “Oh, dear. Did she --? Ray, did I just get --?”
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