Disclaimer: due South is owned by Alliance Atlantis and several people named Paul. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: Originally written for ds_flashfiction's List Challenge. Many greatful thanks go to Lipstickcat, who agreed to have the actual list posted to her so that she could scan it and send me the jpeg, as I lack a scanner.

Fraser writes a shopping list each week and pins it to the refrigerator with a magnet shaped like a maple leaf. It wasn’t something that was discussed, it just sprang out of Fraser’s observations of Ray’s supermarket shopping habits when he’s lacking a… certain degree of prompting.

So Fraser writes a shopping list and pins it to the refrigerator on a Tuesday. By Thursday the once neat list is usually a conflicted and smudged mess, rife with Ray’s additions, amendments and— sometimes— arguments.

In fact Fraser has recently admitted to himself that he has begun to be deliberately forgetful when writing the list, just to see what Ray will come up with. In Fraser’s head it’s become sort of like a personal (and unorthodox) game of bingo.

Fraser (or rather, Ray) hasn’t managed to get a full house yet. He is also sure that Ray hasn’t cottoned on to this silly game. Fraser is both glad and disappointed about this. Glad, because he can perfectly imagine Ray’s initial response to the concept of shopping list bingo (there would almost certainly be an unflattering comparison to curling), but disappointed because if Ray knew then Fraser would be able to explain how exactly to gain a full house, and what the consequences of that would be.

That thought distracts Fraser, so he doesn’t spend more than a moment wondering where the shopping list has disappeared to.

A few weeks ago, Fraser started writing shopping lists. Ray figured it out pretty damn quick; it was obviously some freakishly polite way of pointing out that his kitchen (although he’d started to think about it as ‘their’ kitchen around about the time of the first shopping list) is a Mecca for junk food.

In retaliation, around about week two, Ray started editing the list whenever he was in the kitchen and had a pen handy. Fraser, Ray has decided, needs to learn how to prioritise.

Strangely, the shopping lists have been getting more incomplete the past couple of weeks and Ray has found himself actually adding normal grocery items. From this he concludes that Fraser is being a sneaky Canadian bastard, although about what, he hasn’t quite worked out.

Fraser’s not the only one who can be a sneaky bastard, however, and Ray’s decided that maybe it’s time that he lets Fraser know that two can play games with shopping lists. To that end Ray made a point of raiding Frannie’s desk before he left work and he now has a pocketful of brightly coloured marker pens.

As soon as Ray figures out where Fraser’s hidden the list, he’s going to do over his amendments. In capitals.

Diefenbaker doesn’t usually bother with the bits of paper that get to stuck to the fridge door for two reasons; firstly, it’s the inside of the fridge that counts and, secondly, what are shopping lists to (half) wolves?

That having been said, Dief has recently started checking (in the most casual way possible) that Ray has remembered to add donuts to the list each week.

As it happens, Ray has remembered. This isn’t what gets Dief’s hackles up, however. No, that is due entirely to the item on the bottom of the list, in Fraser’s handwriting.

Eukanuba light? Dief is horribly offended by the implications of that. He paws at the list until it falls down, leaving a couple of streaky paw prints on the enamel door, and attempts to tear off the bottom of the list.

This proves unsuccessful and Dief deposits the soggy strips of paper in one of Fraser’s boots while he considers what to do with the rest of the list.

Although a muddy paw print now obscures the Eukanuba light, it is also incriminating evidence.

After much consideration— and a certain amount of difficulty— Diefenbaker manages to post the chewed up list through one of the air vents on the turtle tank.

The turtle stares at it a myopic fashion. It trundles through its water pan and grit and then over the list, adding a few more muddy smears and then bites one corner in an experimental fashion. A second experimental bite and the turtle drags the list off to use as bedding.

Dief snorts in a satisfied fashion and goes to find an empty donut box to put in front of the fridge door to remind Ray about buying important things.