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UNTOUCHABLE - June, 2000
I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I can continue going on like this, knowing how I feel about him and that he's just so... goddamn untouchable.
Benny, the Perfect Mountie, untouchable like the Frozen Ice Prince of the North that he is. Untouchable face, untouchable mouth, untouchable body, untouchable heart... I wonder if he even *gets* it. Gets how fucking beautiful he is, lying there, eyes closed, face relaxed. That pelt of dark hair just a little bit out of place... God knows he's the only person I've ever met who looks sexier than he normally is with pillow-hair.
He's like some fallen angel.
Benny, my best friend, my partner for over a year now, lying there in that hospital bed because *I* shot him.
He was going to leave with her. He said so to me and I told him I was aware and damn him, does he even care that he's *killing* me?
I watch him sleep and want nothing more than to reach out and touch his face. Brush his hair back from his forehead. In my dreams, I stand over him as my fingers brush over his jaw and he wakes up, mouth curving into that sweet smile of his, those bluer than blue eyes opening and looking up at me and he tells me he loves me and he doesn't know what he was thinking and he wants to be with me and--
Fuck it. Fuck *him* and his holding me away from him for so long. Doesn't he understand how much I--
I love him. I want him. Stupid me, falling in love with the Mountie.
He's the most annoying man in the world.
But there is so much to him that only *I* get to see. The smiles reserved for *me* and me alone, the way he looks at me sometimes that I swear maybe he does feel the same way about me. The way he practically runs screaming for the hills when *any* woman looks at him. But when I find myself looking at him the same way, and when he catches me before I can beat some sense into myself, he just *smiles* at me and it's okay. It's okay. I'm good. I'm fine.
Bullshit. I'm far from fine. I want my best friend in the worst way possible. That's not right. It's not right at all. It's not right that I'm *Catholic* for God's sake, but God knows I'm probably not the first, and I won't be the last, and I'm gonna burn for eternity for more things than coveting my best friend's ass.
He looks good in blue.
I fucking shot him. I saw a gun in her hand, I know I did. Or maybe I just think I did and I really would have preferred it if he died than see him leave with her. No, that's not true. It can't be.
Maybe it is.
I don't think I'll ever get enough of watching him sleep like this. But at the same time it drives me nuts, because I want nothing more than to hold him and soothe him and tell him how sorry I am for doing this to him, and shake him for doing this to *me*, for killing me slowly from the inside out.
I'd call him a bastard but I know I'd just beat the shit out of myself for saying it. He doesn't get it. Doesn't know what he does to me.
Or maybe he does. I just don't think, don't know, if he's even... *capable* of that kind of thing. Clueless Benny.
I sigh softly and slump down in my chair a little, wincing as my shoulder hurts like a bitch. The *things* I have done for him. Crawled through garbage, destroyed God knows how many suits, taken on cases no self-respecting cop would just because he has this perverted sense of duty, gotten myself blown up, and, Goddammit all, my car...
What's one little bullet for the Mountie? Maybe if I'd jumped a little more to the right, or higher or whatever, the bullet would've hit something vital and I wouldn't have to sit here with my arm in a sling and watching Benny sleep like I have been for three fucking weeks now. Wouldn't have to keep on sitting here and wanting him.
I woke up yesterday and he was in my room. Sitting there and watching me... like I've been watching him? I dunno. Who knows what goes on inside that head of his?
Tomorrow we get to go home. Joy of joys, back to life as usual for the two of us. And, soon I hope, we can get out of this city that I've lived in all my life and that suddenly seems so claustrophobic.
I don't know how Benny can stand it.
I can't stop the smile at thinking of me and Benny, up there in the wild unknown, fixing up his dad's cabin, *all alone*. Don't know if I'll be able to keep myself from jumping him. Maybe if we're up there long enough, he'll welcome even my attentions.
A nurse comes in and tells me to get out of Benny's room. Sighing, I go back to my own and even though I doubt I could fall asleep, I'm out like a light, dreaming sweet dreams of my fantasy-Benny. The Benny who touches me and holds me and whispers in my ear and loves me, loves me so much it fucking hurts to wake up and find myself alone in bed.
At his insistence, I let him drive me to my place. How sweet of him to treat me like an invalid. And when he pulls into the driveway he just automatically comes into the house with me, and goddammit, what do ya know, the house is *empty*, like everyone just sorta forgot I was coming home today, or they just knew on a deeper level that I wanted some time *really* alone with Benny. And he looks at me, and smiles, and steps up close and damn! He's looking at me like he wants to eat me and here he is, pulling me so gently to him, running his hands down my back as he leans in to kiss me and oh my *God* I'm dying--
His voice breaks into my thoughts as he tells me we're here. I shake my head, and start to say something, but then Ma is coming out of the house and Benny's getting out of the car, so I follow suit, and Ma's hugging me and telling Benny she's made extra so he can stay for dinner. She takes his arm and leads him into the house and I follow along behind, watching his back.
It sucks. It sucks worse than anything else.
But there's a certain joy to it. It never has to change. Never has to be anything other than that bitter-sweet longing that it always is. Doesn't have to see the person's flaws--like Benny *really* has any--and it can just keep on going and never die.
My beautiful, perfect, untouchable Benny.
If only he knew.