Disclaimer: Um, poor. These characters are not mine and no profit derived.

Story Notes: Wellthere already was an ending, then Ray whispered in my ear that he might like to spend a little more time in California. And so he does. And he needed a local friend so I gave him one. Benny still also figures prominently of course.

We fell off the roof and broke. The divorce became final ten months ago. I left Chicago in January. I guess you could say I had custody of our last Christmas. I spent it with the family and told them that Benny and I weren't going to be together, pulled Ma aside and asked her to keep and eye on him.

Moving here wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. Maybe because I had work to wrap myself around. I came to Los Angeles to give my officer the direct order that her assignment was over and that she was to return to Chicago. She met that order with her immediate resignation. After I debriefed her for the final time, she told me that she was staying in Los Angeles. She needed the ballplayer to forgive her. She didn't think that is was going to happen but she held onto the slim hope. And she wanted to be where he could easily find her.

I have forgiven Benny. People think that if you've forgiven you stay. I guess some people do stay, I couldn't. In the ceremony when they say in sickness and health, for sickness I think that people substitute cancer. I did. An everyone thinks sure it'll be tough but if my spouse gets cancer I'll be there. No one thinks about the sickness of a hurt so deep, you find yourself in the john dry heaving everyday, you find yourself daydreaming about places in the city where a body could be dumped and not found for a long time. If you could bring yourself to eat, there might be a little more Technicolor but mostly nothing comes up, if you could bring yourself to touch your husband the virtual body being dumped might become a real one.

No one thinks about the sickness of denial so deep, the one in denial pretty much stops speaking because they don't know how to lie outright. The denial won't let them even see the truth much less speak it. I got tired of riding the porcelain bus, I got scared of having nightmares about putting another bullet in him. I couldn't live with my husband's silence, his kind of hysterical blindness. I can admit this truth. These were sicknesses I never considered.

I'm on a kind of open ended leave. I'm available to handle red phone issues, but mostly I'm incommunicado. After Vegas, except for my honeymoon, I never really took any time off. I'm renting a place in West Hollywood or boys town as some people call it. I keep to myself. I often sit at the Starbucks on my neighborhood corner and watch the scenery move down Santa Monica boulevard. A lot of the "scenery" is breathtaking but none as beautiful as....

I don't think about him as much as I did. Or I do but the pang isn't as deep, isn't as debilitating. I've some help with it. My officer is originally from California which was one of the reasons we picked her for the assignment. She's living with her father and sister out in Malibu. She's sort of been my tour guide. Helped me find my place. Helped me get acclimated to the city. And I'm still keeping an eye on her. She's kind of a not fully resolved red phone issue. And we commiserate about the fucked up relationships we've gotten ourselves into.

The ball player came out of the coma and is doing intensive physical therapy. His parents are trying to sue the school district and in turn the district wants to sue both police departments, the feds. The parents believe law enforcement knew a dangerous criminal was in the school and didn't move quickly enough to get him out. They still don't know about her. The mark took a plea so there won't be a trial. If they aren't able to settle the parent's lawsuit out of court, she might have to testify. I'll do whatever I can to shield her. She hasn't really seen the ballplayer or spoken to him since he regained consciousness. She knows when and where his p.t. appointments are. Sometimes she parks nearby so that she can catch a glimpse of him being wheelchaired from/to the parking lot. I don't try to stop her. What the hell leg do I have to stand on? What happened to the ball player was essentially not her fault. I shot Benny, in the back. You put that up against a little lite stalking....

We have an agreement though, she never goes without me. Someone needs to be there to stop her when just watching isn't enough. Even though moving here was easier than I thought, Being alone is hard sometimes. Some nights, especially after I first moved into my place, my officer would sleep with me. No sex, just a warm body to hold onto. Strictly platonic. Mutual comfort. It's close to the line I guess, but she isn't my subordinate anymore.

It's better this way. Better that I'm here because he couldn't leave Chicago. His assignment doesn't permit his leaving the windy city, mine did. And I've done this before, left my family. And Benny is going to need the family when he's finally ready to deal with Arizona. When it all comes together I can't imagine him alone in Canada. But I can imagine him with Ma's arms wrapped around him, comforting him, soothing him. The family doesn't really get why we're not together. Frannie was less surprised than the rest of them, but she's still confused. And how do you tell your mother that she raised the kind of son, who was a danger to his spouse. Even as hurt as I was, I couldn't bring myself to mess with the Mountie mystique. Maybe I should have, maybe that would have gotten him to face the truth of what he'd done, of what he felt.

It breaks my heart to think about what that moment is going to be like for him. He's resisted seeing for so long that the realization will probably shatter him. If I were a better person, a less selfish person, I would have stayed and helped him. I would have been able to persevere through the sickness. But he will have to come to the understanding on his own that he was in love with Stanley Kowalski. I understand that it doesn't mean he didn't love me, doesn't love me, but he doesn't understand that. The denial won't let him.

******************

Benny called me yesterday. The one year anniversary of our divorce. He's coming to Los Angeles, wants to see me. Like I said I mostly keep to myself but...I have met someone. I talk to the family a least a couple times a week, mostly to Ma but sometimes to Frannie or Maria, the kids. One night, about six months after I got here, the homesickness was eating my ass for lunch. I couldn't shake it. I couldn't call my officer to distract me, she was doing some stunt work on a film. I got dressed and wandered into Joseph's Trattoria , an Italian joint on the boulevard.

I'd passed it several times, but had never gone inside. I figured it couldn't measure up to Ma so why bother. But that night I was desperate. I decided even if they screwed up the food, the smells would at least be right. I could pretend I was at home. It was a weeknight, a Tuesday. The dinner crowd was light. I asked for a booth in the back, so that I could watch the room. There was a tricolor ravioli on the menu that sounded good and I figured it couldn't be messed up too badly.

After the waiter left, a host, not the same one that showed me to my seat, brought over a bottle of Red. A good bottle, a bottle I hadn't ordered. The host presented the label to me. "Thank you but I didn't order that."

"Yes, sir," he said. "This is compliments of the owner."

"I'm sorry but I can't."

"He insists," the host insisted. It flickered through my mind that I had been made. That there was someone who recognized me from Vegas, but I'd been watching the room and there weren't any heavy hitters. Maybe the restaurant was the cover for something else and I'd missed it. I'd checked intelligence about what might be going down in this neighborhood before I moved here. Mostly trouble with Russians not Italians, but just in case I was dealing with an unknown player, I put on a little bit of the "I'm gonna shoot you in the heart and leave your body to rot in the desert" look.

The kid swallowed hard but stayed his ground. His prick boss probably threatened to fire him. He was good looking, in a natural, non gym enhanced way. He reminded me of those skate kids, kinda like this guy I saw on ESPN, Bam Margera I think his name was. Scruffy, but breathtaking under all that hair.

The hosts hair was a dark brown, thick, almost to his shoulders, His eyes were a chestnut brown and his lashes brushed his cheeks and his lips were full, red. He was about my height, had maybe ten pounds on me. Probably Italian.

From my time in Vegas, my marriage and since I've been here I realize that though I might not have a type I have a feature. It's the eyes. And his eyes sparkled.

"Where you from?" I asked.

"Back East."

"Where exactly?"

"Jersey."

"I can't hear it in your voice."

"Yeah, I got tired of people thinking I was 'connected' cause of the accent. So I can take it off when I want to."

"Italian then?"

"Yeah."

"Okay Jersey, paisan to paisan, I am not accepting a bottle of wine from a total stranger. What's the catch."

"You've never been here before. He wants to welcome you to his restaurant."

"There are vintages a couple hundred dollars cheaper that your boss can say hello with just as nicely. And how does he know that I've never been here before?"

"I guess he figured you'd be so impressed by the vintage you wouldn't say no. He's pretty good about keeping an eye on who comes in and out of his place."

"He's barking up the wrong tree with that approach. He wants to have a drink with me, he should ask like a man."

I didn't want to have drink with anyone. I just wanted a quiet meal but I guess it was the principle. And if the food turned out not to suck I wanted the option of being able to come back without any static from the "owner."

The host set the bottle on the table. Before I could begin another objection, he extended his hand. "I'm Joseph Alta and this is my place. Would you have a drink with me?"

He had the element of surprise working for him and he was sitting in the booth and pouring before I could read him the riot act.

"What's with the big set-up?" He blushed and I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I only knew one other person who could blush so beautifully. "I wanted to meet you and I didn't know how to do it."

"You really own this joint right? How old are you anyway?"

"I'm thirty-two and yeah it's my place. We've been open for three years."

"Then you walk up to me and say. "Hey, I'm Joey Alta. Welcome to my restaurant. I hope you like the food. Here's a bottle of wine on the house."

"I...that makes sense now but when I saw you walk in I thought....I didn't think it would be that easy to get to you. I see you at Starbucks, at the dry cleaners sometimes, you got this wall around you that screams stay away."

"Hey, you caught me on a good night." A vulnerable night. I would have thanked him and no thanked him on any other night, but that night I couldn't. Once he started talking I realized I needed, wanted the company.

He joined me for dinner which was quite good. I had a couple of glasses of the wine. We talked a lot. About family. He had six siblings. About being away from our families, he had been kicked out by his when he was sixteen, about how he wanted to get married eventually. I skimmed over the fact I was recently divorced. Sitting in the sun had taken care of the white strip leftover from my wedding band.

And then we were at the awkward part of the night, to thank him for the dinner and go or stay and see what else he had on his mind. Only it didn't feel awkward. I liked Jersey, liked talking to him, liked looking at him, and liked the way he looked at me. I was a little surprised that I hadn't noticed him around the neighborhood before. I do keep the blinders really firmly in place when I'm out though, total focus. A little something I learned from Armando.

"What are you thinking about? I couldn't resist the urge to stir the pot. Maybe it's the wine. He blushes again and it hurts a little less. Jersey's hand slides over mine. "I was thinking about kissing your nose. I was thinking about what you'll look like in my bed."

"Dinner and a bottle of wine, you think I'm that easy?"

"No, but maybe I am." His words are bold but his cheeks were full of color.

His place was just above the restaurant. A large single room done kind of ultra modern with a couple of plush leather couches, some chrome and a bed on a kind of platform in one corner. We had another glass of wine in his living room then he wrapped his arms around me. His full lips covered mine in a sweet exploratory kiss. It was nice being held by my officer, but I missed this. The solidity of a male body pressed against me. The hard muscle flexing under skin, under my hand. His capacity to take my weight, to take a little "manhandling." I shoved him backward onto his couch and made my body heavy on top of his. He moved his hands to touch me but I grabbed his wrists and held them above his head. His eyes were what got me but his mouth was amazing. So different from Benny's, but I pushed that away as I ground into this man I'd only known a few hours. One night stands are sleazy, but I needed. Marriage meant regular touch, regular sex. That was a door that couldn't be closed again. I guess I didn't just miss my Ma's cooking.

Our kiss deepened. I could feel him getting harder under me but I took my time. His body bucked against mine as he moaned my name. I slid my tongue out of his mouth and bit his bottom lip, "You wanna do this in your clothes Jersey?" When he opened his eyes and looked at me it almost sent me over the edge. The total arousal, the raw desire. It freaked me a little to see that in another man's eyes. "Are you gonna stare at me all night or are you gonna finish what you started?" There was a teasing challenge in his voice but his eyes didn't change. I covered his mouth with my own and lost myself in this near stranger.

*******************

I woke up in the middle of the night and didn't know where I was. The male body beside me felt wrong and I was out of the bed and on the other side of the room like a shot. Jersey is a light sleeper and he woke up as soon as I was out of the bed.

"Ray, Ray are you alright?" He got up in nothing but his birthday suit and approached me tentatively. His hands were where I could see them. Somehow he knew to do that instinctively. I guess that's how you approach a wild animal. I must have looked insane to him. There was a little fear in his eyes.

"Where am I?" I whispered. "You're at my place." I guess my eyes showed that, that didn't mean anything. I couldn't get my breathing under control and he came closer. He wasn't radiating threat so I let him put his hand flat against my stomach. "It's okay Ray, take your time, breathe slowly. In and out. In and out."

I tried to match the rhythm of my breathing with his words, with his coaxing. As my breathing started to get under control, he kept speaking low in my ear, as his hand moved up and ran soothing circles on my chest. "I'm Joe. You seem to like calling me Jersey. You're in my loft. We had dinner together at my restaurant downstairs. We came up here afterward, had what I would consider some mind blowing sex, you stayed the night. If you want me to I can drive you home right now."

"Sorry Jersey." And I caressed his face so that he would know that I did remember who he was. What we did. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at me, still worried. "That's okay, let's get dressed and I'll take you home." And tuck you in and stay the rest of the night apparently. When I woke up later at my place, I smelled sausage and as I made my way into the kitchen, I saw evidence that someone had slept on my couch. He was in my kitchen, cooking. He smiled at me with just a trace of apprehension.

"You had a rough night, I thought you might need a good breakfast. I can leave now if you want me to." I moved to him and stroked my finger across his cheek and kissed him chastely. Bed head looked good on him. "Thanks for looking out for me." We sat for breakfast and ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Am I the first since the divorce."

"Yeah."

"You're really not ready for this are you."

"I like you Jersey."

"I know that I could tell, but -

"But I have been married twice to people that I loved. And when I made vows the second time, to my husband I was one hundred percent sure that I was marrying for life. That I would never be with anyone else. He's the only man I've ever been with, he's the only man I ever woken up beside. Until last night. I never thought there would be another guy. You were incredible. I'm not ashamed of what we did, but I don't think I know how to be with anyone else. I don't think that I can do it."

"Are you still in love with him."

"It's ...we have a lot of history."

"Okay," he runs his hands through his hair again. His all purpose tell. "This is what I have to say to that. Your ex is an asshole."

Anger flashes in my eyes and he puts up a placating hand. "You left your whole family because of him. People who are obviously very important to you."

"It's not that simple."

"It is to me. Unlike my family, your family loves and accepts you and you're living here instead of Chicago where you belong."

"Jersey... Joe" my voice is just a notch below threatening. "My ex really is off limits."

"Man, he did a number on you. Okay. Okay. I, uh...I've had a crush on you for almost two months. When you walked into the restaurant last night, I knew I had to take a shot." He threads his fingers through his hair. "I think we have a lot in common, we're compatible. You get that my family is really important to me even though they kicked me out. Not a lot of people understand that. I want to see you, I want to spend time with you. I don't do the fuck buddy thing. I'm glad I made you feel good. Ditto. I want to be more than that. But I understand that's not a space you're in right now. I'd like to at least be someone that you can call friend. I'd like to at least be someone you can say 'hey' to at the dry cleaners."

"Does that mean you don't want me to come to the restaurant anymore?"

"No, I definitely want you to come back to the restaurant. My mother use to always tell my sisters that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Maybe that'll work for me." His eyes twinkle at me.

I'm pretty sure that I'm blushing because my face feels hot. It's weird that it's never really occurred to me that someone else might want me. That there are guys that I pass every day that might want to get next to me. That I might like. I guess there is a part of me that feels like that would be cheating on Benny. Which is stupid considering how things went down between us.

"Benny, my husband, was my best male friend. It would be good to have a guy to hang out with again."

"Well let's hope this turns out better than that. Tuesdays are usually a little slow at the restaurant. Come by when you have time."

************************************************** Jersey and I usually have dinner together every Tuesday, unless one of us gets tied up with something else or in his case someone else. For someone who doesn't do fuck buddies, he goes on a lot of dates. I think that may have something to do with what happened between us that night, but I can't do anything about it. I'm not ready to be with anyone. On Monday nights when the restaurant's closed we go to the Y in Beverly Hills and shoot hoops. We do what guys do, trash talk, look at other guys (I'm wounded not dead), eat.

*****************************

My ex is gonna be here in about five minutes. I think that's his cab pulling up in front of the Trattoria right now. It's in between the lunch and dinner rush so there aren't any other people in the restaurant right now except me and a couple of busboys. I see Benny hesitate for a second trying to determine if he's at the right place. I told him that the restaurant was closed until dinner but that it was open for us. His hesitation at the door gives me the chance to look at him for a minute. I figured he'd be dressed in jeans but he's wearing a suit, no tie and his shirt is unbuttoned at the collar. I wonder if our relationship was all about our suits. The one he's wearing now is the first one I bought him. I remember the pride I felt watching as the tailor took his measurements. He blushed one of his deeper shades of red as he protested that the suit was too expensive and that I was making too big a fuss. His hair has grown out a little bit. And I like the longer hair on him. His gaze shifts and he's looking at me through the glass of the door. Our eyes meet and I'm glad that I had the presence of mind to meet him in a public place.

I wasn't sure what the first moments of seeing him would be like. I didn't know if the urge to harm him would rear its head. A surge of violence is the very last thing I feel. God, he's beautiful. A year apart has restored my ability to feel a simple primal desire for him. I motion Benny towards me. He smiles and I forget why exactly we aren't together. Up close I can see that there have been some changes. The suit hangs on him a little. There are dark smudges under his eyes and shadows in his eyes.

As he crosses the threshold of the restaurant, I stick my hand out to shake his, but he pulls me into an embrace instead. He holds me like that for a few minutes and whispers in my ear. "I've missed you." I break the embrace first and peer into his eyes. There's an uncertainty there. "It's good to see you Benny." And some of the uncertainty fades. He smiles again. And I feel a little giddy.

The chef left spaghetti with meatballs for us and after I show Benny to the table I get the plates. I pour myself a glass of my usual Cabernet and make a move to pour water in his glass.

"The wine will be fine Ray." I raise an eyebrow at him and he raises one back at me.

"Okay." I thought that perhaps he was out here for work and decided to try and fit me in but maybe that's not the case. We both dig into our meals. For the most part we speak generally about the family. He tells me about the new guy Frannie's dating, the poodle Dief's got his eye on, etc...And I know that there are other things coming, more serious things, because in addition to the good food, the meal has been a symphony of his tells. He's flicked his thumb across his eyebrow, I think four times already, cracked his neck once. And now his tongue darts out between his lips and I want to kiss him badly. But, I wait. This is Benny's show.

I take our plates away and as I slide back into the booth across from him, he sips his wine and rubs his eyebrow with a vengeance.

"I, um." The eyebrow again. "I was afraid that you wouldn't want to see me."

"I left because I couldn't stay, not because I didn't want to stay."

"Understood." And I wait wondering if it's a real *understood *or an understood to buy him some time before he launches into the reason he's here. Understood is certainly more than I got when I told him I had signed the papers he originally served on me before Arizona.

That night was the height of my rage. He looked through me with the same stoicism he'd been using the month since our return from Arizona and I looked at him and saw a dead man. I stayed with Ma that night and was one of the first at the courthouse, hoping desperately that I didn't run into anyone I knew. It wasn't common knowledge that my marriage was in trouble. I wasn't ready to go public with the news.

"A few months after ...after you moved to California, I received a phone call from Sister Mary Agnes. She said that she'd heard that we were separated and she wanted to offer her encouragement and counseling. I don't know if you are aware that she is a licensed psychologist. She explained to me that there seemed to be some bias with regard to the mandatory counseling for same gender couples seeking a divorce. Apparently when same gender couples sought to obtain dissolution of their marriages and expressed a desire not to go through the counseling, the clerks were less likely to insist, more likely to doctor the relevant paperwork whereas with heterosexual couples this was not the case. According to Sister Mary Agnes, several groups are trying to commission a study to ascertain the long term effects of this bias."

I hide a smile behind my hand. Because I know there is a much shorter version of this story that I will never hear. I didn't realize I'd missed his storytelling until my ex started talking.

"She mentioned that many of the same gendered marrieds were a little stunned when they started having the same sorts of problems as their heterosexual counterparts. Apparently many couples believed that the absence of "battle of the sexes" tension would insure a better success rate. That has not been the case."

He picks up his wine glass. And I notice for the first time that the skin on his ring finger is lighter. Like a ring has only recently been taken off. My heart constricts as I glance at my evenly tanned ring finger.

"Sister Mary Agnes offered to see us together and I explained that you and I were....that you had ah, actually, in point of fact that you had relocated to California. She expressed surprise. She seemed a little distressed about the fact that you were in California. Then she asked me how that had come about. And perhaps it was time, the weight hadn't been easy to bear. It bled out of me. Arizona ... and everything else. I've been sitting with her a couple of times a week for the last nine months. I suspect your mother may have prompted the Sister to call me."

I sit a little straighter in the booth, pour a little more wine in my glass and sip it slowly to steady a sudden attack of nerves. Benny must be having the same attack because he's rubbing the hell out of his eyebrow. I lean back in the seat and drape my arm across the back of the booth. I don't want him to feel threatened.

"The first time -" His voice drops a full register. My hand tightens on the stem of my glass, what he's about to say, I can tell that while it's not the first time he's told this story, it's also not like one of those Inuit stories he could tell in his sleep, or one of those stories from his childhood where the pain has been dulled by distance. This pain is still fresh.

"The first time Stanley reached for me, we were on stakeout. There was nothing particularly memorable about this stakeout save for what transpired between the two of us in the car. I was obviously startled at first but it felt, there was a certain comfort in it. You'd been in Nevada for sixty days. And though there had been nothing spoken between us there was indeed something between us. The loss of which was very tangible." Eyebrow rub and he sips from his glass again. A year ago I wanted to, needed to hear about him and Kowalski. Needed him to admit what was on the tape and acknowledge the rest. Now I'm out of that zone. I don't know if I want this in my head.

"We never, we didn't, it was always on stakeout. He would either stimulate me orally or manually while we were in the car. And I would do likewise to him. A few times we....a few times such activities took place in alleys, without benefit of his car to shield our actions." For the first time, I'm actually grateful for his indirect way of speaking. It gives me time to slowly digest what he said. To wrap my mind around the impossible and censor the image of him on his knees like a hustler.

I don't know whether to reach for him or smack him for being so stupid. So I just keep drinking. Somehow his sleeping with Kowalski pales by comparison. Somehow his sleeping with Kowalski doesn't seem quite so horrible.

"Shortly before he took the assignment Stella divorced Stan." It's a good thing that Stella Kowalski isn't here. The derision is Benny's voice is a living thing. "I guess the two of us were what I believe you would call basket cases. I would hardly classify what we did as a relationship, but the Sister seems to think that it was indeed a relationship. A 'dysfunctional' relationship. We never...we never talked about any of it. It was like a drug, while he was fellating me I felt euphoric, high. The pain went away. But as soon as it was over I couldn't believe what we had done. And then there was the inevitable crash, but it never prevented the next time from coming. The only thing that prevented our behaviour from continuing was your return. We simply stopped." He looks at me now, I guess to check my reaction. I pretend I'm undercover and make my expression as neutral as possible.

A small smile drifts across his lips. He takes a deep breath. "The first two days in Arizona were distressing. I think I saw every goddamned place of significance and insignificance in Tempe." I'm so startled by the profanity, the vehemence I almost drop my glass.

"He insisted on taking me all over the city. And he talked almost non-stop. Just a steady stream about the place where he bought his cd's, the authentic Polish bakery, about the car, it seemed both a frustrating mix of the personal and the random. There were fleeting flashes of something underneath the surface. It was enough to scare me but I didn't suspect...I didn't put it together. I was able to identify the difference in his energy. He was always a little hyper, kinetic but the quality of his energy in Arizona, I realized was manic. Sister Mary Agnes thinks that Stan might have been suffering from an undiagnosed bi-polar disorder. We will never know. The third day started out about the same. We went to a car show. I learned more about how to restore a GTO than I ever hoped I would. That third day....."

Benny's tongue darts between his lips and he swipes his eyebrow. His hands start to shake and he laces them together but that makes no difference. The shaking extends to his whole body. I slide out of my side of the booth and into his side. I slip my arm around his shoulder and slide my hand over his hands. "It's okay caro. We'll take as long as you need. " Tears slip down his cheeks.

"That third day, after the car show, we ate at a few establishments that he said were his favorites. He had full meals at both places. And it was odd because I couldn't reconcile how he could look so thin if he had been eating in that manner. Then we returned to his apartment. He was still...I couldn't, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed him to stop talking. Because of our prior history I suspected he wasn't going to 'kick me in the head.'" Benny's voice breaks and a body wracking shudder goes through him. The tears are still coming and his voice is getting smaller and smaller.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, Ray. I only wanted to make him stop talking just for a moment. Just long enough for me to ascertain what was happening. When I reached for Stan and kissed him it...it, I lost control of the situation. " He pulls one of his hands from under mine and wipes his eyes.

"I understand now that to some degree his behaviour was classic for someone suicidal. He was giving away his possessions, but because Stan wasn't really a material man, he didn't have the usual possessions to give away. The things he had to give, his favorite places to buy cds, his favorite place to get a cheeseburger, everything about his car, his body, he gave to me. When I heard the tape ... I was so ashamed I didn't know how to explain what had happened. How it happened. I mean of course I know how it happened but I ...I never loved him. Let me clarify, I did, some of what I felt for Stan could be characterized as love but certainly I didn't love him. Not in the way I loved you. Not in the way I love you."

I don't want to hate Stan Kowalski. It's been a year and despite the way he was on the tape. He died in pain. But he broke Benny. He broke us. His black hole of need tore us apart.

"It would seem I have a perfect record in people leaving me. I don't know how to make them stay." He wipes at his eyes with the heels of his hands. My lips brush his temple.

"I live within walking distance. Come home with me." He nods. "I just need to let my friend know we're leaving." He nods again without speaking.

Jersey's in his office at the back of the restaurant. He stops whatever he's doing on the computer as soon as I step in. He pins me with a look.

"Jeez, Ray you neglected to mention that he's fucking gorgeous."

"How do you know what he looks like?"

"I ...uh came out a little bit ago, I figured I'd introduce myself. Get a look at the competition. But it seemed kind of intense."

"Yeah," I reply quietly.

His gaze sharpens. "You're going back to him."

"Jersey...

"That's one thing we definitely have in common with our het brothers, we let a pretty face get away with murder."

"We've been through a lot together."

"You are still in love with him."

"It's not a easy as that."

"It would be with me."

"I know." He looks at me with eyes that say pick me for an instant, then he glances at his watch. "I've got a date." I smile at him affectionately. "Don't let me stop you stud."

Before he leaves the office, he stands toe to toe with me and I know what he's gonna do before he does it. I don't make any attempt to stop him. The kiss is a passionate declaration from Jersey. A reminder of what he wants from me, of what he wants to give me. He finally lets me up for air. A huge smile splits his face in two.

"Call me later. Lemme know you're okay."

"I will."

He leaves the office and I wait a few minutes to pull myself together. I'm not made of stone.

Benny is waiting for me just outside the entrance to the restaurant. He gazes at me and his blues are a little more shadowed then when I got up from the table. I thought that Jersey was going out the back, up to the loft. I should have figured he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to speak to Benny one on one.

"Your friend doesn't care for me."

"He doesn't know you Benny."

"But he knows you."

"Yeah, but not the way that you do."

The shadow recedes a little and he nods his head. I slip my hand into his. "Come on."

While we're waiting to cross the street, I'm suddenly overcome with the moment. Standing on the corner, in this neighborhood, holding his hand without any kind of apprehension. It feels great. And after a year of watching other men with their husbands, with their boyfriends being affectionate, making out in public, I bring his palm to my lips. He startles slightly but flashes one of the smiles I thought I would never ever see directed at me again.

And I don't think, I pull him to me so we're chest to chest and then we're mouth to mouth. I know that he can probably smell Jersey on me, taste him on me, but he returns the kiss as though it's just us, as though the last year hadn't happened. As though we're still married and standing in the middle of our living room. I hear some laughing around us. A couple of 'can I get some of that' and 'get a room', but nothing ugly or threatening. When we finally come up for air we've missed the light and have to wait for the next change. My legs are jelly and Benny vibrates beside me.

*************************** I'm alone when I wake up the next morning. That kiss on the sidewalk changed the energy between us. We really intended to keep talking once we got to my place. But that little taste of the good part of how we use to be and the added adrenaline from doing it in public, I couldn't suppress that I just wanted to get him naked.

In my apartment I made coffee for me and found some tea that my officer left at my place. It wasn't bark tea but it was disgusting so I figured Benny would like it. He'd already taken off his jacket and was just in shirt sleeves on the couch. His cheeks were flushed and he was definitely aroused. Here we go I thought.

I handed him the tea and he smiled at me over his cup as he took a sip. "This is quite good," he murmured. He was always better at holding onto a pretense than I was. I sat down beside him and put my untouched coffee on the table. "I need to touch you."

He bobbled his cup a little before setting it beside mine. His eyes were clear when he looked at me. No shadows. I wasn't nave enough to think that they were completely gone, but at that moment, like on the sidewalk it was just us.

His eyes held mine as I unbuttoned his dress shirt and slipped my hand beneath his undershirt. I teased his nipple with my thumb and forefinger just to see the blue in his eyes darken. "Take this off." He pulled his dress shirt the rest of the way off and I yanked the undershirt over his head. I pressed him back against the couch and fastened my mouth over the teased nipple. I sucked and let my tongue swirl around the nub as he moaned and clutched at my head. He wasn't going to last long and we definitely weren't going to make it to the bedroom. Without neglecting his hardening nipple, I unbuckled, unzipped his pants and slipped my hand between his legs. He was already hard and I stroked him slow. I wanted it to last. His hand slid in over mine and he tried to quicken my stroke. "Please, please, " he moaned.

"Okay baby, okay just hang on a minute." Benny being who he is, I was sure since we'd been apart he hadn't done anything to take care of himself. I would have bet money. I at least jacked off a couple times a week. I use to think that was how Victoria was able to get so far in. A talented tongue on a man that hadn't had release in a while can take you far. I really wanted to be inside him but there was no way he was gonna last through preparation. I wanted us to at least share the orgasm. I sat up quickly, undid my pants and pushed them to my knees. I was already at full attention. As I tugged his pants lower so that his erection was completely free, I straddled him and lined us up. "Baby, look at me." He opened passion glazed eyes and tried to focus on me.

"Okay," I whispered, "Okay." I kissed him as I slowly rubbed myself up and down him. "Please Ray, I can' t...."

"It's okay baby, go ahead. Go ahead. Let go. It's been a long time. Just let go." He did, we both did all over each other and then he started to cry. I slid off his lap and pulled him to my chest and just held him while I stroked his hair. I don't know how long we sat like that, but eventually we got up to take a shower. A little foreplay in the shower but we did make it to the bedroom. And I made love to his pliant welcoming body gently, tenderly like it was our wedding night. Afterwards as we held each other, bodies tangled together, he told me that he was scheduled on a flight leaving for Arizona this morning. I tensed for a second but of course Stanley's still dead.

Benny raised himself up on an elbow and kissed me. "There are things I need to say to Stan." I caught myself on the verge of offering to go with him again. I didn't make the offer. He left about an hour ago. He'll come back here when he's done. It's good, I need some time. I try not to think about Benny on his knees giving his partner blow jobs like a two dollar whore or jacking him off in his car. I guess it's ironic because now I almost wish that he'd had a classic affair in nice hotels with good sheets. I know that what he did with Stan is partially my fault for the way that I left him. I know that Benny doesn't do alone very well, but I never thought I'd be in Vegas for so long. It looks like he wasn't the only one that needed to be forgiven. We definitely do have some things to talk about.

I push myself out of bed. An envelope and small box on the night table catch my eye. My name is written on the outside of the envelope in Benny's handwriting. I open it and read the note inside.

The time we've already known each other, the time that we've already been together is a pittance when measured against eternity. Our future still waits. I love only you..

Benton

I reach for the box on the table but I already know what it is. When I left Chicago, I gave Ma my wedding band. I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it and of course I couldn't wear it. I open the box to find my band shining at me. My guess is that he put his band back on when he woke up this morning. I feel a goofy grin spread across my face. It looks like we just might have that second honeymoon afterall.

End 2nd Version

Evans