Looks like I picked the wrong day... 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.