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It wasn’t what you’d call love at first sight. It wasn’t even like at first sight–in fact, the only first-sight-type-thought he had about Fraser was, “Whoa–red,” and then a lot of things had caught fire.
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“Fraser, I’m trapped in a rental cabin, in the middle of a blizzard, dressed like a gay prostitute. If I don’t get drunk enough to forget this ever happened, I will have to kill you.”