Chris Matthews didn't know why, after nearly two years, he still let Morgan piss him off so badly.
Most days, they got along. Small, petty arguments were either over by the time one of them left for work or forgotten somewhere along the way. There were a lot of petty arguments, but most of them were good-natured ones. Chris was used to them by now.
But then there were days when the small arguments exploded into big ones. It didn't happen often. Usually, Chris was able to diffuse the situation or ignore Morgan's bitching about one thing or another. But some days ... well, some days Morgan was just impossible to ignore.
Today was one of those days.
"The fucking paper was in the fucking bushes again." Morgan stalked into the kitchen with the offending paper under his arm.
Chris took a bite of cereal and talked with his mouth full. "So call the delivery service. Again."
"I thought you did, last week."
"Well, yeah. Because you told me to. That's why I said 'again'." Chris shoveled in more of his cereal and eyed the clock. He had a bet with Tucker that he'd beat him to work for the third shift in a row. Of course, since Tucker was probably getting laid and that was why he was always late, it couldn't be considered much of a loss.
"I'm canceling this paper. I only read the Wall Street Journal anyway." Morgan glared at the newspaper and dropped it onto a chair.
Chris picked it up and eyed him. "Uh, no. I read this paper, and it runs good articles on the fire department. We're not canceling the paper."
That was met with something muttered under Morgan's breath about the fire department and then stony silence.
Chris raised a brow. "Excuse me? Are we back to the same old argument about firemen?"
"I didn't say firemen, I said fire department. Did you buy mango juice?"
He ignored the juice question. "For fuck's sake, Morgan. You work for the fire department." Morgan was one of the educators that worked with the department captains. He presented the coursework that was necessary for the firefighters to meet their forty-five hours of required classroom time per year.
"I know. So do you. In fact, isn't it time for you to be there?" Morgan glanced at his watch in a truly infuriating way.
Chris shoved back his chair and stood. "Sure. I'll just take the paper with me. It'll make room in the house for your pretentious Wall Street Whatever."
Morgan glanced up from the paperwork in front of him. "You're offended by my choice of reading material?"
"Sure, that's it." Chris shook his head in disbelief. "Why does it always come back to this? I'm not offended by most of the shit you say, but I thought we covered the fact that you bashing firefighters or the fire department isn't cool. You'd think after two years together, you'd try to be less of an asshole about it. You live with a fireman. You used to be one. You work with firemen. So when you can't shut your mouth about how above them you are, then I'm offended."
"I know, Mr. Matthews." Morgan's gray eyes were calm as he watched Chris grab his keys from the counter. "And you would think that after two years together, you'd try to be less sensitive."
"Less sensitive." Chris blinked. "That's how you think we should solve the problem? By me ignoring you when you're a dick?"
Morgan leaned back and took off his glasses. "Sure. I ignore you when you're being one."
Chris left his bowl on the table and the front door standing wide open when he left for work.
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