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Ray pulled up in front of Benton's apartment complex, and looked out the window and up at the rows of windows. No way was he looking forward to walking up six flights just to give Benton's door a knock, not when they'd just be leaving a moment later. To top it all off he was...weirdly nervous. He hadn't been on a date, not one that meant anything,

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"For god's sake, Diefenbaker, you're not going to starve if I don't bring you back any leftovers. No! It would be foolish to spend money on a separate entrée! Who said you were coming along, anyway. This is a date. I--"

Fraser froze at the sound of an engine shutting off outside. He hadn't even chosen a shirt yet! He ran to the window and thrust out his head. "I'll be down in a moment!"

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Ray looked up in surprise and then grinned. "Just let down your hair!" he called back, hands cupped around his mouth.

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A literary reference! Fraser beamed down at him before disappearing from view. A smattering of carefully pressed shirts lay on the bed, and Fraser snapped up the blue one, the sudden lack of time making his decision easy. Once it had been neatly tucked into his jeans, Fraser gave Dief one last look of warning and went bounding down the stairs.

"Hello, Ray," he greeted, marveling at how easy it was to speak around the lump in his throat.

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Jesus, Benton was fast.

Ray opened his mouth but didn't reply right away. "Hi," he said kind of loud. "Uh..." Sheepishly, Ray scratched the back of his head, glanced around and moved two steps away, back to his car. He leaned in, reaching his arm through the open window.

"This is for you," Ray said, straightening up, with a White Trillium in his hand.