He stares at his partner from across the table. "You know if you treated him more often, I wouldn't have to buy him a latte. He likes chocolate, by the way."
Fraser actually returns the look, which is tinged with some concern. "Ray, chocolate is poisonous to canines. The lethal dosage of theobromine in dogs is--"
A hand comes up, his fingers running over his eyebrow. "Centuries of genetic drift doesn't make him immune." He looks back up at his friend. "No chocolate, Ray." It's a request that more or less demands agreement.
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timeasmymeasure
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