He won't admit it, but he gets a kick out of visiting Fraser in the dying moments of his sentry duty shift.
He gets to talk as much as he wants, no interruptions, no informative nuggets of trivia hurled into the conversation, splashing him with something scarily like education.
(Not that you can trust the guy; Fraser probably makes half this shit up… no. No, he doesn't. He wouldn't. Somehow, that's worse. Ray's used to creative embellishments; the truth throws him, confuses him.)
He never gets there too early; wouldn't be fair on the guy. You wouldn't always know it, but Fraser's human, and Ray knows, without too much false modesty, that he's a hell of a funny guy.
And he wouldn't really want Fraser to crack up, spoil the pretty picture the tourists ooh over, stare at, snap pictures of.
Well… maybe once. Just once. Does that make him a bad person? To want to be the one who made Fraser fail? Yeah, it probably does.
So? This is news?
But for all the pleasure of watching gleefully, expectantly for the tremor of a smile, the twitch of a muscle, the pleasure of just… looking, Ray's always sure, always safely, snugly, securely sure, that it won't happen.
He trusts Fraser not to let him down and be like…yeah. Whomever.
Not to be anything less than what he is, no matter how fucking funny the one about the horse and the drunk monkey was -- well, yeah, maybe that one had been out of place on the street where women and children were passing and no, he doesn't know what he thought he was doing, and yes, it won't happen again, shit, give me a break here, will ya?
Can't a guy keep a friend company?
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