Cold Water Wash, an er fanfic

Rating: FRT (Fan Rated suitable for Teens)

Spoilers: None.

Content Warning: Ray's slightly dirty thoughts, but that's it. :D

Disclaimer: ER and its characters are the property of Michael Crichton, John Wells, Amblin Entertainment and Constant C Productions. No infringement intended, please don't sue, yadda yadda yadda.

Notes: Set during S12, some time before "I Do." Most of my bunnies are angst, but I was in the mood for something happier. ;) As for the shirt, I'm going on the assumption that she stole more than one. The one near the end of Season 12, and the one mentioned here.

Cold Water Wash

Ray bobbed his head in time to the music coming through his headphones as he pulled the load of dark clothes from the dryer and deposited them into the laundry basket where his bottles of detergent sat waiting. Hiking the basket onto the hip his iPod wasn't clipped to, he carried the whole thing upstairs, unable to keep the grin from spreading across his face.

He couldn't wait to see Neela's reaction when she came in from work - which was likely to be any time, since her shift had been over for a while - and found half her laundry done. After all, she'd done his often enough; he figured it was only fair to return the favor.

Letting himself into the apartment, he set the basket on the kitchen table and started work on sorting and folding.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Neela trudged up the building's front steps and into the foyer, stopping to check the mail on her way. She sifted through the small stack with a sigh.

Junk, junk, bill, junk, bill...

Locking the mailbox, she shuffled the items back into a neat pile and started up the stairs.

Letting herself into the apartment, Neela tossed the mail and her keys onto the table by the door and stopped dead as her bag hit the floor with a soft thud.

Ray was standing at the kitchen table, headphones in his ears, sorting laundry and singing along with The Clash.

Shaking her head with a rueful smile, she came up next to him at the table and pulled out one of his earphone buds. He looked down at her, startled. "Oh, hey. Didn't hear you come in."

She smirked. "Yeah, I see that."

"How was your shift?"

"Busy." She glanced down at the basket and frowned. "You did laundry."

Ray grinned. "Yep."

She was instantly wary. He did laundry and he's grinning? Not a good sign, Neela. Not a good sign at all.

"You never do laundry." She furrowed her brow, chewing at her bottom lip as her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "All right, what did you break?"

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Nothing."

She shot him a look.

"What? Can't a guy do something nice for his favorite roomie?"

"Most roommates? Sure," she smirked. "And of course I'm your favorite, I'm the only one that'll put up with you, you wanker."

"Haha, Roomie, you're killing me," Ray countered dryly as he gestured to the basket. "You gonna help me sort and fold this and get all your stuff? And only your stuff? Last time you did laundry, I lost a t-shirt."

Neela cringed inwardly; she hadn't thought he'd notice.

Oops.

Ray put his earphone back in and resumed singing along with his music as they worked their way through the load of dark clothes, folding and sorting into two piles as they went.

They were nearly finished when Neela put the red t-shirt she'd just finished folding on Ray's pile and reached into the basket to pull out something else as Ray did the same. Feeling a tug on the other end of what she'd just grabbed, she looked up to find her lavender bra held out between them; one end in her hand, the other in Ray's.

Her lavender bra that used to be white.

Her lavender bra that used to be white that her roommate was now staring at.

Shit.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Earphones dangling around his neck where they'd fallen out of his ears, Ray stared at the lavender scrap of lace and satin - his mind filling in the empty cups with twin mounds of smooth dusky skin - and wondered if his overactive imagination was anywhere close to the real thing.

Neela snatched the lacy garment out of his hand, effectively snapping him out of his reverie.

But it didn't last long.

He hazarded a glanced into the basket, and sure enough, the matching panties - now lavender as well - were peeking up from between the legs of his faded blue jeans.

Oh fuck.

He imagined them sliding up over taught calves and smooth thighs to barely cover rounded -

"Bloody hell!"

He shook the thought loose with an effort and watched as she snatched the panties and balled them up with the bra.

"How the hell did those even get in there?"

"They, uh -" He glanced nervously at the wad of lace and satin in her hands, and she shoved it behind her back. "They were probably mixed in with the stuff in your darks basket."

"And you're supposed to wash in cold water!"

Ray shifted uncomfortably, glad that the laundry basket hid most of his lower half from her view. Oh, there was no need to worry about that.

They stared at each other in silence for several moments as tension crackled in the air around them. Finally, Neela shook her head clear and gathered up her pile of clothes from the table.

"I'm - uh - I should go put these..."

She jerked a thumb in the direction of her room and he nodded, swallowing thickly as she made a hasty retreat.

Alone with a litany of thoughts he should not be having about his roommate, Ray plucked his jeans from the bottom of the now empty basket and folded them haphazardly.

Wash in cold water.

He wouldn't forget that again.

His mind conjured up an image of lavender satin and lace, wrapped around smooth mocha skin in all the right places and he shifted uncomfortably against the tightening bulge in his jeans.

Or maybe he would.