Disclaimer: Standard Disclaimer. I´m only posting this because I have no shame. Or so says my father anyway. Please send comments, questions, compliments, and otters to sdelcul@yahoo.com.

Author's Notes: I apologize for the list overload, but please bear with me (feel free to send angry emails and fling inanimate objects) until I catch up. Keep in mind that internet is a two hour bus ride away at the moment and I have to boil my water before it's safe to drink. Gotta love rural Ecuador!

Story Notes:

For ten years I thought only of revenge. Every morning when I woke up in jail, I blamed him. Every night after the death of my sister, I planned.

And then I saw him again. Beautiful. Pure. Clean. And I hated him even more because a part of me wanted nothing more than to let him love me, even then. It hadn't been hard to track him. I learned a lot in prison, and he might as well have been wearing a sign. --Here I am, come and get me.--

And yet I hesitated when I actually saw him. He was happy to see me, and I hadn't expected that. He was still so untouchably good. I loved him almost as much as I hated him. I let him make love to me, but I also wanted him to, and that wasn't part of the plan. I found myself hesitating at each step.

I met his friend Vecchio and even though he was a cop, I almost liked him. He threatened me if I hurt Benton, and I liked him for it. In another life we might all have been great friends.

Of course, I hated him as well. His love for Benton was pure, not contaminated like mine. In his own way Vecchio was as unsullied as Benton. Then I realized that Vecchio loved Benton. Really loved him. Neither of them knew it, but Benton was months, maybe even weeks away from loving him back. The only thing stopping Benton was his guilt over me.

I had to change the plan when I realized that. Vecchio was in the way and he was strong. Now I realize what ruined my plan. First, I was weak. In the end I wanted Ben to come with me not for insurance, but of his own volition. Because he was mine, not Vecchio's. With enough time I could have made him forget Vecchio, forget Chicago, forget everything but me.

Ironically I used the wrong weapon. I used his love for Vecchio and his guilt for me. I should have destroyed Vecchio while I had the chance. Before he showed up at the train station and ruined everything. Vecchio did the one thing I hadn't expected. The only thing that could and did ruin my plan. He chose duty over love and shot his best friend in the back. What is it with these people?

For a month as I hid again, terrified that they'd send me back to prison, I didn't even know what had happened. Within six weeks I knew that Ben was okay. There was a search for me, but I didn't even have to change aliases. I'd been erased. For Benton and Vecchio, it seemed, I'd never even existed.

I wonder if they're sleeping together yet. If Vecchio broke through that shell and fucked him hard, in punishment. Or maybe they make love, slow and gentle. Do they kiss? Does Ben warm Vecchio's fingers with his mouth? That mouth was almost my undoing.

Maybe he's giving Vecchio a sweet little blow job right now. Or maybe Vecchio's blowing him with that damned mouth and those expressive hands. I can picture them together easily: bodies intertwined, hands moving against contrasting skin tones-- I come within a few minutes.

I won't go back. I can't. But I can't move on either. Damn them both.

End Twenty Minutes Late by silvina: sdelcul@yahoo.com

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