"Ray..." Fraser tapped him on the shoulder. "Ray..."
"Oh, hey, sorry Frase, what's up?" Ray asked.
"Is everything alright?" Fraser asked.
Ray shrugged. "Chicago lost the Olympics."
"Ah, that is unfortunate," Fraser said.
"I don't even live there anymore, but you know, I was kinda rooting for them," Ray said.
"Of course you were," Fraser said.
Ray shrugged. "Oh well, nothing doing. Hey, I got some stew cooking, it'll be another half hour or so, you wanna..."
"Perhaps," Fraser suggested. "You cud turn the heat down on the stew, let it cook a little slower."
"Why would I... Oh..." Ray's eyes lit up and he grinned, when he realised what Fraser was suggesting. "Yeah I could do that."
Ray decided Fraser was the best remedy for just about anything.
A sweaty couple of hours later when they finally tucked into dinner, Ray had forgotten to be disappointed that Chicago wouldn't be hosting the Olympics. Actually he had pretty much forgotten how to think at one point. They things his Mountie could do with his hands should be illegal. Not to mention his tongue, Ray really loved his tongue...
"I was thinking," Fraser said, interrupting Ray's train of thought. "Perhaps we could take a trip down to Chicago, visit with everyone, it's been a while."
"Hmm, I guess," Ray said. "Commiserate with people."
"Or celebrate," Fraser said. "Chicago is still a city close to our hearts. With some wonderful people, regardless of whether the world at large agrees."
Ray smiled. "Yeah... yeah, that'd be good."
Chicago may no longer be home, but it had been – and Fraser was right, it didn't matter what the rest of the world thought about it.