Voyeur

By Courser

I find myself here again. Watching her. Even knowing it's wrong, I continue. Diefenbaker watches me in accusation. I've stopped making excuses to him. I spend most of my free time here now that Ray is gone and been replaced by....I don't really know who. I guess it's just another part of the legacy Victoria left to me, begun in the long days in the hospital. Intruding into other peoples' private lives since my own is too painful for close examination.

Why her? What is it about her that compels me? I am sure that the location of her apartment is part of it. I can see into almost every room from here, my perch on the fire escape. Her apartment seems nicer than mine, but not much homier. Boxes still line the living room walls after several months. She makes little effort to make it her home. From overheard telephone conversations, I know this is her second residence in one year. Maybe she feels it isn't worth the trouble. Yes, I can hear her telephone calls, though there aren't many. She doesn't appear to have many acquaintances. Like me, she leaves her windows open almost constantly. I feel a kinship with her. She isn't afraid of intruders, keeping what appears to be a .38 caliber revolver in her dresser drawer. Only one man visits her and as ashamed as I am to admit it, those are the times I may spend the entire night on my fire escape. She often draws the blinds when he is with her, but from my vantage point, I can still see through the slats, though with the lights off, there is very little too see.

I was ironing some shirts on a Sunday afternoon when she came to my attention. I simply glanced out my window and saw what I thought was a crime in progress. What kind of crime, I wasn't entirely sure. She knelt on the floor next to her bed, blindfolded, hands bound behind her. The man stood in front of her stroking her hair and her face. I couldn't look away, but was about to shout at him, when he put a strawberry to her lips and she smiled and said something soft and low. Embarrassed at what I was witnessing, I looked away, determined to concentrate on my ironing. I should have walked away from the window, I know that now, but I was confident in my ability to ignore what was going on only a few meters away. In spite of myself, I looked again a few minutes later. And so it began. The man had unbuttoned her blouse and pushed it off her shoulders and her brassiere was shoved up on her chest. He crouched down before her and fondled and kissed her breasts. I heard him tell her they were lovely, beautiful and indeed they were. Her bound hands had pulled her shoulders back and thrust her breasts upward. I was thinking about the strange games people play, when he stood and unzipped his trousers. I felt as if my heart had stopped beating. I didn't want to watch this, I really didn't. As naive as I appear, I do know the ways of the world and the nature of things between men and women. Experienced, even, many of them, though I don't feel the need to proclaim the fact. Victoria may have been the only woman I thought I had loved, but she is not the only woman I have ever been with. I was embarrassed for this woman, subjugated in this way, and as guilty as the man who was now guiding himself to her mouth. Yet still I watched, my heart had resumed beating, though at an accelerated pace. My mouth had gone dry, probably from gaping open and I snapped it shut. Please understand that I wasn't really getting any kind of vicarious thrill out of watching them, though I did feel myself respond to the graphic sight, I was more horrified than fascinated. I have always believed that.....relations, such as this should bring pleasure to both participants, and I could not see how she could derive any real pleasure from this activity. She applied herself to her task, while the man held her long hair away from her face. As a man, I can say that she is very effective, her efforts having an effect on me even at a distance, loath though I am to admit it. This continued for what seemed an eternity, but in fact was probably only five or ten minutes. My sense of time was rather confused. Suddenly, she let out a small gasp as he pulled her away by her hair, roughly dragging her to her feet. He turned her around and bent her over the side of the bed, pushed her skirt over her hips and stripped off her underwear. He took her quickly, with no apparent concessions to her comfort. I heard no protest from her, however, in spite of her awkward position, arms still tied behind her back. He used a handful of her hair to pull her to him. He ordered her sharply, though I couldn't quite make out what, exactly, it was. She gasped and cried out a little, though from pleasure or pain, I wasn't sure. Perhaps a combination of both. This seemed to trigger his rather vocal release and he collapsed onto her back. A few moments later he released her hands and removed her blindfold. As she shook her hands, he dressed, and with a kiss he collected a few things and left her. I turned away and sat down, trying to make sense of what I had witnessed. I heard a haunting melody and looked back over to the apartment. She was just sitting on her sofa, listening to the music. It was then that I was trapped.

It's been several months now, since I first watched her humiliation at the hands of the man. Fortunately, his visits are infrequent and that particular scenario has not repeated itself. It is clear to me that he does not love her. He rarely kisses her and when he does, it is never the prolonged, gentle kiss that kindles fire within a woman. It is the hard, devouring kiss of a lustful man. She carries within her a kind of quiet dignity, though, untarnished by the base treatment she occasionally receives from the man. To be completely honest, he isn't always insensitive. I have seen him be gentle and kind, pleasuring her. It doesn't appear to be difficult and unless it is a ruse, she is very responsive. Perhaps after her harsh treatment, pleasant sensations are intensified. Maybe it's just me, but it seems self serving, a concession to ensure she will continue to be available to him. He doesn't deserve her. Everything I have seen indicates that she is a kind, caring and generous woman. She walked past the Consulate two days ago, just as I was leaving. She met my eyes levelly, smiled openly and said hello. My mind was elsewhere, so when I recognized her, I think my response was rather high-pitched and surprised. She didn't seem to notice and kept walking.

As I watch her today, she goes about her chores. She has cleaned the kitchen, swept the floors and disappeared intermittently to wash several loads of clothes across the street. It's hot and sticky and she's pinned her long mahogany hair up with a chopstick, a tool far too long for the task at hand. All day she's listened to the haunting music I first heard that day. I now know that the artist is Sara McLachlan, another Canadian, oddly enough. The man hasn't made an appearance in several weeks and I am hopeful that the alliance is over. Bits and pieces of telephone conversations lead me to believe that he's begun seeing another woman.

Occasionally, late at night, I think about what it might be like if I were with her. I'd want to erase her memories of pain and subjugation with long deep kisses and gentle caresses. I have fallen asleep thinking about how her full breasts would feel in my hands, and my mouth. I think about pleasuring her over and over again before seeking my own release. Other times I think about what her mouth would feel like on me. Sometimes I dream about it and awaken in a state not unfamiliar to celibate men. While somewhat embarrassing, it does save me the trouble of having to take matters into my own hands, so to speak. Other mornings I awaken unbelievably aroused. Living alone does have it's advantages, I suppose. I think my preoccupation with her is merely a reaction to the damage Victoria has wrought. It's unhealthy, and if I were any more obsessed with her, I could be considered a stalker. I have no illusions of intimacy with her though. I don't believe that she loves me, or even knows me. Well, she might recognize me as part of the neighborhood, based on her greeting the other day. Today I actually considered joining her at the Laundromat. Well, except I did my laundry yesterday and have nothing left to launder. That, and the fact that if I did become acquainted with her, I would have to confess my indiscretion to her. It would be dishonest of me not to. I'm as guilty as the man who humiliated her in the first place. In the middle of my mental calisthenics I realize that I am hungry and dehydrated. Climbing in my kitchen window, I find Deifenbaker trying to escape the heat under my bed and ask him if he'd like to accompany me to the diner. He gives a long suffering groan telling me that since he can't come inside with me, he'd just as soon stay here, thank you very much, but could I bring him something back. I tell him that I understand, I'm not accustomed to this heat either. Picking up my hat, I leave the apartment and start down the street towards the diner. Just as I come to the front door of the next apartment building, she comes out the door.

"Excuse me. Oh! Hi." She says cheerfully. I think she's recognized me. Oh dear.

"Hi." I answer, but just seem to stand there looking into her eyes. They are an incredible shade of deep blue.

"You're the guy from the uh, the um...." She can't remember the name of it, apparently.

"Canadian Consulate. Yes." I hope to god that's where she remembers me from and not the man who's been watching her apartment for months.

"Right. Yeah. Don't you live in that building over there?" She asks.

"Yes. Yes, I do." I smile, but I know I'm showing too many teeth. I've got that deer in the headlights look, I can feel it.

"Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm Laura." She says and extends her hand. I look at it like I've never seen one before and finally take it in mine and try to give a not-too-firm-not-too-weak squeeze. Her hand is warm and soft with a sure grip. My mind is a complete blank.

"The pleasure is all mine, Laura. I'm Benton Fraser, RCMP. Call me Ben." Thank you, grandmother, for instilling me with proper etiquette. You said it could save me in any social situation and you were right.

"RCMP, that would be......"

"Royal Canadian Mounted Police." At least I'm on familiar ground here.

"Ah, yes. Great hat." She said as she pointed at my head with an odd smile on her face.

"Thank you" I reply, but she still has that grin on her face. Like she's going to burst into laughter any second. I take it off and look at it.

"What is it?" I ask. Whatever it is, it's contagious because I feel myself smiling in response.

"Nothing, actually..." she's trying to decide whether to tell me what she finds so funny.

"Well, it's just that I grew up in Colorado, and there we associate that kind of hat with Smokey the Bear"

"Smokey the Bear?" I ask, never having heard of this person.

"Yeah. Uhm...'Only YOU can prevent Forest Fires'" she says, imitating a deep male voice and looking at me for recognition.

I am totally lost, but at least she's not thinking about where my apartment might be. I simply smile and shake my head and say "I'm sorry, I don't.....uh,"

"He was kind of the mascot for the US Forest Service. He was this brown bear in coveralls with a hat like that. Being Canadian, you'd have no way of knowing." She explains and though she's no longer laughing, her eyes are still full of good humor.

"Yes, right. Uhm, well, I was just going to uh, get something to eat and uhm...would you care to join me?" I can't believe I'm asking her to join me. I don't know what I'll do if she says yes.

"I wish I could, but I can't. I have an errand I have to run." She looks apologetic.

"Another time, perhaps." I answer.

"Yes, I'd like that. It was nice meeting you, Ben." She turns to leave.

"You too, Laura." I'm already heading down the street when she calls my name.

"Ben?"

"Yes?" She's walking towards me again.

"I'm sorry about the Smoky the Bear thing. I hope I didn't offend you. I didn't mean to be disrespectful, or anything." She's actually worrying about offending me? The man who's been watching her for months?

"Oh, no, no. No offense taken."

"Good. Bye, then." She says over her shoulder.

"Good bye" I resume my walk to the diner, but only a few steps later, her voice stops me again.

"Ben"

I turn to see her only a few meters away, close enough to still see the laughter in her eyes.

"Nice view from the fire escape, eh?" She turns and walks away as crisply as a cadet.

Ohhh dear.

Chapter 2

For a moment I consider following after her and attempting to explain myself, but can think of no explanation for my behavior. That, and my shoes feel like they're made of lead. I continue to the diner, even though my appetite is gone. I need to think this through. Preoccupied, I take a booth in the back, where it's cool and quiet.

What did she mean by her comment about the fire escape? Presumably, she had observed me watching her. How long has she known? It's doubtful that she knows about the initial episode that attracted my attention since she was blindfolded at the time. The only way she could know was if the man had seen me watching them and mentioned it to her. That seems unlikely, since he was, well, somewhat preoccupied. I feel some small sense of relief at that realization. But if she's been aware of me, why hasn't she closed her blinds? Ok, she has closed the blinds in her bedroom since then. When exactly did she do that? I'm assuming that she's unaware that I can see through the horizontal slats, situated as I am one floor above hers. I pause in my ruminations to order chicken for myself, spaghetti to go for Diefenbaker. My association with Ray and his family has made him a devotee of Italian food. My panic has begun to subside. She didn't seem angry and it does seem possible that she's unaware that I have seen her compromised. It seems a reasonable assumption. Her bedroom blinds are closed and her bathroom window is frosted, so she really has no reason to believe that I would have occasion to observe anything unseemly. No, no, that's not entirely true. There was the time they were in her kitchen. They'd been out somewhere together and when they returned she'd gone into the kitchen for something. He followed her and backed her into the counter near the window, kissing her hungrily, savagely, even. Her arms draped loosely around his waist and he brought his hand to her face, caressing at first, but then he put his palm on her chin and drew her jaw down, opening her mouth more fully to his. He continued kissing her for several minutes and then, his hands in her hair, he drew her head back and put his mouth to her neck. She gasped loud enough for me to hear, then held him more tightly to her, hands massaging the long muscles of his back. His hands had crept under her shirt, stroking her skin, then releasing her bra. He drew his head back, looking at her, then I saw him apply his teeth to the muscle at the base of her neck. She arched her back and moaned long and low, one hand now on the back of his neck, holding him to her. A few moments later, he released her neck, and she loosened his shirt collar, giving his neck similar attention and though he found it pleasurable, his response was not as heated as hers. He pushed her shirt and bra up together and began to stroke her breasts with his hands. When he reached the sensitive points, she pulled her head away and he began to kiss them, as he had before. I heard her gasp painfully and she told him to take it easy. He continued for a few more moments, then he said something I couldn't quite make out, but she lifted herself and sat on the counter, her back to the window. At first I could see him over her shoulder, then slowly lowering himself between her legs. For some time, I could only see her back and shoulders through the window, gently undulating in the moonlight. Finally, her back arched, her head fell back and I could see her face, eyes tightly shut, a series of small cries escaping her lips. Stunned, I sat back in my chair. I felt almost ill. A light sheen of sweat covered me and I felt weak and shaky. Not terribly surprising since every drop of blood seemed to have raced to my groin. I was repelled by my behavior and my body's subsequent reaction. Guiltily, I glanced back to her window. She was still seated on the counter, but he was now standing in front of her and I could tell from his movements that he was taking her there. She braced herself, one hand behind her, one on his shoulder. He was progressing quickly towards the end, lifting his hand to stroke her cheek. In that moment I was sure I had misunderstood what had taken place before. Perhaps he did care for her. The illusion was broken when he drew his hand back and slapped her face. Not terribly hard, but hard enough that I could hear the blow. She recoiled from the pain and I heard him order her, as again he slapped her, followed quickly by his release. They remained stationary for a moment, then she disengaged herself and slid off the counter.

"Leave. Now", I heard her say clearly, quietly.

"I, I'm sorry. It's just, you're so sweet when you.."

"I don't want to hear it. I don't care. Good night." She righted her clothing as she walked to the door and opened it, waiting for him fasten his trousers. He was still breathing heavily as he left. I was again astonished and horrified at what I'd seen and it's effects own body. Shifting uncomfortably in my seat at the diner, I pause in my recriminations and remember that the lights in my apartment were off that night. I had wanted to ensure that my obsession remained undiscovered. I also remember because Ray had come by just after Laura's guest had left and asked me why I had been sitting in the dark. I was still feeling guilty and rather disoriented when I'd answered the door and I explained that I had fallen asleep while reading. He gave me a doubtful look and made some comment about Mounties reading in the dark and I'd indicated the flashlight next to my bed. Fortunately he was willing to let the matter drop and we'd gone off to investigate an assault in the area. In any case, I remember that the only time Laura's face was turned toward the window was when..... well, while her eyes were closed tightly. Even if she had opened them, I doubt she would remember anything she might have seen.

I'm feeling quite confident that my trespass is undiscovered by the time my meal arrives. Just as I'm about to put a piece of chicken into my mouth, I look up and there he is. My father.

"'Lo son." His ghost says.

"Dad! Could you please stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Sneaking up on me. I could have choked."

"What?"

"The chicken. I could have choked on the chicken."

"Oh son, I think you've been doing entirely too much of that."

"Too much of what?"

"Choking the chicken. For god's sake, you'll go blind!"

For a moment, I can't believe what he's just said. Then I can feel the flush begin at my neck and I know that my face is the same color as the uniform he's wearing. It's like I'm fifteen all over again.

"Dad, don't you have to be somewhere?" I realize that I'm addressing the now extremely unappetizing bird on my plate.

"Where else should I be, son?"

"Oh I don't know.....anywhere."

"Everybody on this side is beyond help. They're dead. You, on the other hand, are very much alive and in need of some fatherly advice, I think."

The waitress looks my way and I wave her over and ask her to wrap up the food. When she goes into the kitchen I look back at my father.

"Can we continue this elsewhere?" I ask

"Certainly, where ever you like." He responds and when I look up from the check, he's gone. Thank god. I'd like to continue coming here.

I check outside quickly before leaving the restaurant. I'd like to avoid another encounter with Laura. At least until I've sorted a few things out on my own, anyway. I walk quickly back to my apartment. Fatherly advice indeed. And I don't even want to contemplate his chicken comment. Not to mention it's completely inaccurate. When I arrive, Diefenbaker is anxious for his supper and is pleased with my choice. I walk to the refrigerator and put the remnants of my dinner inside. Before I even realize what I'm doing, I'm looking at Laura's bedroom window. I stand to the side to hide my presence there. It's dusk and she's turned on her light while she puts away her laundry. The room is small and I can see almost all of it from here. Her hair is down now and appears to be damp. The now familiar strain of music floats across the narrow alleyway to me. It's a different artist, but no less haunting. I had thought that once I spoke her, once I had actually met her, that this compulsion would leave me. She's wearing a short red satin shift that I recognize as her nightwear. Her hair is the color of autumn leaves and I love the way it curves around her shoulders as it dries. I find the color scheme mesmerizing - deep red hair over red satin over fair smooth skin. I imagine how the different textures would feel against my hands when I hear my father clear his throat behind me.

"So this is what that woman has reduced you to, son?" The words were spoken with a deep sadness and I don't have to ask who he means.

I don't know how to answer him. Victoria destroyed me in a way I had never thought possible. My once unshakable confidence in my own true nature is no longer so unshakable. I am fallible. I drop into the chair opposite his at the dining table.

"For years I've marveled at the things men do in the name of love. I've seen men lie, cheat, steal, betray their friends..... and I never imagined that I would be one of them. I violated everything I believe in and stand for. If Ray hadn't......."

"You're human, son, just like everyone else. No one is infallible. You always try to see the good in people. I taught you that. But her anger and thirst for vengeance overpowered any good there might have been in her. She came here for the specific purpose of bringing you down and used your own principles against you."

"I thought I could handle it.....handle her. Everything deteriorated so quickly."

"As they so often do. She planned it that way. Keep you so off balance and scrambling that you didn't have time to think things through. But son, you can't let it keep eating at you. You can't continue to stand at that window and watch life go by. You have to live it for yourself."

I look guiltily at the window overlooking Laura's apartment, then dropped my head.

"Did you ever do something that you thought couldn't be forgiven?" I ask him.

"Of course I did. Several times in fact, but that isn't the point. Victoria stabbed you in the heart and left you for dead and if you don't get on with your life, she'll have won. What about that woman across the way there? The one you keep watching."

Oh god, back to that are we? I try to dismiss it.

"She already has a lover."

"Does she now?" He just looks at me, knowing I haven't told him everything.

"Yes, she does." I return his stare, refusing to give in.

"So what if she does? It's possible he isn't kind to her. Maybe he doesn't love her, ever thought of that?" He asks me, challenging me, knowing that it's true.

"I'd say that's her choice."

"Maybe she doesn't know that there are other options. How do you know that she isn't sitting over there, right now, wondering if any one else would ever care for her." I can't decide if he's speaking metaphorically or from observation.

"I don't, but I fail to see......."

"'Course you do! Because you're too lost in your own self-pity! Give her that choice! Take her!"

"What!!!!" I hear my voice rise in unbelief. He can't be suggesting what I think he is.

"Oh, for god's sake, man, get your mind out of the gutter. I mean take her away from him. Win her. You've been far too isolated for far too long. Why by the time I was your age, I already had a son and lost my wife. It's my fault, I know that now. I wanted you to be self-sufficient, son, but not like this."

"I don't know if I can." I get up from the table and walk to the kitchen window.

"No you don't. And you'll never know if you don't try. But oftentimes those things we treasure the most are the things we have to fight for. It gives them their value. I had to fight for your mother, son, Buck Frobisher had his eye on her as well."

"This is different. Buck Frobisher was your friend...." I look through the doorway and find myself addressing an empty chair. He can be the most exasperating man. Diefenbaker gives a sharp bark that tells me he is in agreement with him.

"You would" I say to him, switching the lights off, and returning to the window. Laura's in her living room, now. Her television is on, blue light flickering through the room. She's applying something to her legs and arms, smoothing it over her limbs with long strokes. I consider my father's suggestion. I wouldn't know where to begin and I reflect that I've never actually had to pursue a woman. Not in this sense anyway. Is it done with feats of strength and skill? Skills I have, but hardly useful in this environment. She is hardly in any mortal peril here. The few women I have known......intimately, have simply turned to me for comfort or safety or physical need. I don't ever recall actually seeking out a woman of my own volition.

Hypothetically, though, if I were to pursue her, how would I go about it? Surely in all of my training and experience, I've learned something useful. I suppose I could ask her out to dinner. I already have, and she refused. Yes, and then I said 'perhaps another time' and she said she'd like that. Dinner it is, then. How to ask her? I don't know her phone number and I don't have a phone, so that leaves written and personal communication. I can't be sure of when I'll next see her and if I wanted to see her next Friday, for example, then perhaps written would be best. It would also be less intimidating for her, give her time to consider her answer. Now, how to phrase my request? I find pen and paper and sit at the table and begin.

Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP, respectfully requests your .......presence? Attendance? Acceptance? No, no, no. Too formal. Let's see...

Please meet me for dinner Friday at 8 PM........uhh, no. Too abrupt.

Laura,

I enjoyed meeting you today. (Ok, so far, so good) Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner Friday evening? (Do me? No, poor usage)

May I have the honor of accompanying you to dinner....(No, that implies that she has someplace to go and I want to go with her)

May I take you to dinner at 8 PM, Friday, 20 July (Succinct and to the point. Good.)

I await your reply.

Respectfully,
Benton Fraser

I fold the carefully scripted note in half and throw the rejected versions in the trash. Pleased with the knowledge that I was able to frame a coherent invitation, I prepare for bed. I won't send it of course, it was merely an exercise. If I were to send it, I'd write it on something other than plain note paper. I settle into bed feeling more confident than I had in some time. As I drift off, I find myself thinking of Laura's hair and skin, wondering again how it would feel against my hands and face.

I awaken with a start. I had been dreaming about her, though fortunately, I felt none of the physical aspects that usually accompanies those dreams. Well, no more than is typical for a man my age. I have early sentry duty today so I commence my morning routine. Standing at my sink, preparing to shave, I hear Diefenbaker moving about and oddly, he walks past the dining table on his way to the kitchen window. As he bounds out the window and down the fire escape, I see he has a piece of paper in his mouth. A quick glance at the table confirms my fear.

"Dief, No!" I shout after him. It's no use of course, he's deaf, so I climb out the window after him. Just as I start down the stairs. I see Laura walking briskly by at the end of the alley and Diefenbaker making his way towards her. Only then do I realize that I'm standing on the fire escape clad only in my shorts and shaving cream. No where to go, but back the way I came, I throw myself back through the kitchen window, landing painfully on my shoulder, quickly gaining my feet again. Standing at the far left side of the kitchen window, I see Diefenbaker approach her just before she passes from view. He stops directly in front of her to stop her progress and drops the note at her feet. I hear him whine as he looks up at her. She tries to sidestep him and continue on her way, but he bars her way, much as he would a suspect. He paws at the note and barks. She looks at him, then and says "What is it, huh?" Diefenbaker touches the note with his nose, whining. "What? You want me to have this?" She bends down and picks it up. Dief races back up the fire escape and into the apartment nearly knocking me down in the process. He says not a word as he curls up the rug, quite pleased with himself.

"I can't believe you just did that!" I scold him, but he just turns his head away and closes his eyes. I realize that I'm left with only two options. I must either try to find and excuse to break the date with Laura, or god help me, go through with it. Oh dear.

Chapter 3

I try to get on with my morning routine. Facing myself once again in the mirror, I bring the blade to my throat. My hand is shaking. I close

my eyes, take a deep breath..............let it out slowly.......open
my eyes, and.......my hand is still shaking.  I drop my head.  This is

ridiculous. I have faced down seasoned killers and been less shaken. I put away the straight razor and pick up my safety razor. I haven't nicked myself in 10 years and I don't plan on starting now. I find comfort in the ritual and familiarity of my routine. By the time I have fastened my Sam Browne, I have calmed myself. Time enough to think of a solution to my dilemma.

I walk briskly to the Consulate, the air already warm and humid. I don't relish the idea of standing sentry today, sweat running down my back in rivers. I am hopeful, however, that by applying discipline to my body, I will bring order to my mind. I have solved many complex puzzles during sentry duty. It is only by freeing the mind that one can stand immobile for so many hours. The mind is never idle and if I don't give it something interesting to do, it will catalogue every itch, ache and tickle. Over the course of a day, it would surely drive me mad.

I arrive on time and, after checking in, I assume my post. Initially I concern myself only with getting into position. Feet the proper distance apart, weight distributed evenly. Knees must be relaxed and slightly flexed, spine straight, but not unnaturally so. I square my shoulders and flex my neck to each side, hearing a gratifying pop, then fix my eyes on the horizon and become stone. A fixture, nothing more. Doing nothing to draw attention, but remain unflinching in it's face should it find me.

My body now fully under control, I begin to assess the situation regarding Laura. I do wonder what possessed Diefenbaker to take my note to her. Was it out of some sense of loyalty? Is it possible that he thought he was helping me? The exercise was executed flawlessly. Or did he take it to spite me, mocking me for all the times I have watched her from the darkness of our apartment. I suspect the later, but for a moment entertain the notion that my father put him up to it. Preposterous! The specter of my father is a product of my own mind and I fail to see how a figment of my imagination could possibly compel my wolf to take matters into his own hands.........or jaws, as the case may be. I decide not to admonish him for his actions. His motivations notwithstanding, the deed is done and if it were not for my own highly questionable actions, I would not be at this impasse.

Impasse. That's a nice word for it - I'm up to my neck in it and sinking fast. I try to think of any legitimate way I could retract the dinner invitation. Unfortunately, I don't think there are any. Somehow I don't think that telling her that my wolf erroneously delivered the note will do. Why would I compose a dinner invitation to her if I didn't want it delivered? Perhaps I could simply cancel the invitation. I'd need an excuse, but saying I already had previous plans wouldn't do. Damn! It suddenly occurs to me that even if I did think of an appropriate excuse, I would have to tell her in person. It would be impolite to try and send her another note. Well, that leaves me with actually taking her to dinner. It's not as if I haven't done it before. I went to dinner with Mackenzie King and nothing untoward happened. I mean, I did spend most of the evening completely confused, but I'm pretty sure Laura isn't assuming that I'm an accomplice to fraud. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. A niggling thought worms it's way into my brain. Maybe she won't even accept. She could have a previous engagement, or maybe she just doesn't want to go out with me. Maybe she just thinks of me as the cretin who watches her apartment, not someone she'd want to spend an evening with. I'm quite sure she wouldn't want to have dinner with me if she was aware of everything I've seen. Would she? No. No. Wait. What was that look she gave me when she said "Nice view from the fire escape, eh?" I can't close my eyes, but I try to recreate the scene in my mind nonetheless. Her head was turned toward me in profile, eyes slightly narrowed. In anger? No, her eyes didn't have the hard glint of anger and her face was relaxed. Amused? The corner of her mouth turned slightly up as she spoke and there was something, I'm not sure what, in her eyes. Great Scott! Could she have been flirting? With me? If I wasn't at attention, I'd smack myself in the head. I don't have much experience with this. How does one know? I mean this is far more subtle than most of the looks I've gotten from women. Looks that remind me of the way Diefenbaker looks when presented with raw meat. A frightening, predatory look. Which is why Diefenbaker doesn't see much raw meat. No, no, this was far more subtle and not the least bit predatory.

I think I'm going to have to ask Ray. I know I'll regret it, in one way or another. I remember the incredulous look on his face when he realized that I'd actually slept with a woman. He knew almost nothing about Victoria at the time, but for just a moment he was unbelieving. That I, as moral and upright as he believed me to be, would, with knowledge aforethought, commit premeditated fornication. He was incredulous for a moment, then overjoyed that, at least in his mind, I had descended from saint, to ordinary man, driven by the same desires as any other mortal. And oh, was I driven. Well Ray, my friend, Victoria may have been the most infamous, but she was by no means the first and she won't be the last, I'm sure.

I recall Laura as she appeared yesterday on the street. The dark hair twisted up, some wisps escaping to float free, some sticking to her damp neck. I try to place the exact shade of her eyes but find myself at a loss. Deep sapphire perhaps, but that evokes a feeling of cold and her eyes were anything but cold. I imagine they can cut like an acetylene torch in anger. Like when the man had slapped her in the kitchen. It was quite some time before he visited her again. It had been almost a month and I can't imagine what he must have said to get in her good graces again, but one evening he appeared. They went into the living room and sat on her sofa. Eventually he leaned over and kissed her. Actually a series of kisses, then he led her to her bedroom. The blinds were down, but I could still see them through the diagonal slats, angled as they are. He removed his clothing, but he stopped her from removing her own. Then he drew her down on the bed with him. This time was different from the others I'd observed. He allowed her to set the pace of events and things progressed much more slowly. I saw her put out her hand to shut off the light, but he stopped her. She rose and turned on the hall light, turning off the lamp next to the bed when she returned. He was left predominately in her shadow, the light shining on her back. She sat astride him while he slowly removed first her blouse and bra, she occasionally dropping down to receive his kisses, then rising again. They shifted around a bit and her remaining clothing dropped away. The next time I saw the long line of her back, it was bare, her outstretched arms obscuring most of her breasts. She flattened herself against him then slowly, drew herself slowly down his body and back up again. They kissed again roughly, his hands on her head, but after a few moments, she pulled away and taking his head in her hands, kissed him more slowly. It was as if she were showing him how she wanted to be kissed. It appeared then that she dropped her mouth to his neck and his hips began to surge towards hers. She continued for a moment then pulling back from his neck, she sat down on him, pushing him to the bed. She moved against him and I thought it had begun until she rose up and reached down, apparently taking him into her hand. I saw her hand move against him and he brought his hand down near hers, palm upwards. They moved together for a short while, she rolling her head on her shoulders. Then she slowly sank down onto him, resting there momentarily. At first she rose and descended slowly, then without changing the pace, she leaned over him, resting her weight on her forearms. Still, without increasing the pace, she began to rotate her hips, tilted forward on the upstroke, tilted back for the descent. I was mesmerized at the suppleness of her spine, arching and flexing alternately. The man stroked her back as she did this and finally came to rest on her hips, pulling her down on him. She began to rise and fall more quickly now, gripping each other's forearms for support. He raised his knees a bit for better leverage and I could see how she had wrapped her legs around his thighs, her heels resting inside his knees and he began to lift her slightly with his efforts. As things progressed to a close, her hands slid down his arms as she reclined on her shoulders, legs still bent under her and entwined, her back bowed over his legs. Her flexibility was amazing, but not long-lived. Grasping hands, they pulled against each other, bodies straining and I heard both of them, this time, give voice to their pleasure. Soon thereafter, she pulled herself up, freed her legs then lay back down. They remained that way, head to foot for perhaps twenty minutes, then they arose. He dressed and she drew on a robe and again he left her with a brief kiss.

I come back to myself, having lost track of time during my recollection. I also believe that I have physically relived the memory. I'm momentarily concerned, but the cut of the trousers and length of the tunic are sure to cover any potential embarrassment. The problem will resolve itself shortly. I am more concerned that I am unsure of how much time is remaining. Eventually the bell tolls, and I know it tolls for me as I step away from my post and briskly walk to the corner coffee shop. It's crowded, but the waitress knows me and shows me immediately to a table and takes my order. Her attention is just a bit over-solicitous and I begin to wonder if she too is flirting with me. When she returns with my order, however, she just seems harried and I don't dwell on it. I finish my lunch and return to the Consulate where I methodically review the documents requiring my attention. In general, little is required other than a signature. I forward more complex issues to Inspector Thatcher's attention. Occasionally, a telephone call is required to clarify or request more information. Suitably distracted, the afternoon passes quickly and directing the appropriate documents and my reports to the Inspector, I leave the consulate. Ray appears to have been waiting for me and he steps away from his car at the curb.

"Hey, Benny, how's it going?"

"Fine, Ray."

"I was in the neighborhood and seein' as it was about your quittin' time, I thought I'd drop by - offer you a lift, you know?" The look on his face was carefully neutral as he walked back to the driver's side door.

"No." I really don't understand what this is all about, but I'm confident that if I wait quietly it will become apparent.

I open the passenger door of Ray's car and get in. He puts it in gear and we roar away from the curb. After two blocks I realize that we are not going to my apartment.

"Ray"

"Yeah."

"My apartment is in the other direction."

"I know Benny. I was kinda hopin' that you'd look at something for me."

"Of course, Ray. I'd be happy to provide whatever assistance I can"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Truth? We got a report of a kidnapping this morning. We get there and the guy's gone and didn't leave much behind. I was hoping that you could do your Mountie thing and give me a little edge in the investigation."

"What Mountie thing?" I ask perplexed. I am unaware of any specific training that is different from any other law enforcement agency.

"You know, the uh....licking, tasting, smelling thing you do."

"Ahhhh!" I reply vaguely.

"What do you mean, Ahhh. You're ok with this, right?" I think Ray is a little concerned that he's offended me.

"Yes, Ray. Of course I'll help. If you like, I'd be happy to teach you some of the basics" I couldn't resist baiting him just a little.

"Uh, no thanks. I think I'll take a pass on the dirt-eating lessons."

"As you wish" I reply trying hard not to crack a smile. "Any demand for ransom yet?" I ask.

"No, and there isn't likely to be. It looks like the kid's dad snatched her. What little evidence the guy left behind is pretty flaky. I thought you might be able to make something of it before the lab guys destroy it."

"Of course. I'm afraid I'm not familiar with crimes like this - parents kidnapping their own children."

"Ok, let's say the kid's parents are getting divorced. The judge may order the father to pay, say, $500 a month in child support and gets to visit his kid every other weekend. But the mother, she's angry, doesn't hold up her end. The guy never gets to see his kid. But if he misses just one child support payment, Bang!!! His butt's in jail. So this guy, he figures he can kill two birds with one stone. He gets to see his kid, and he gets back at his ex-wife for makin' his life a livin' hell."

"What about the child?" I think, appalled that the adults involved have so little regard for their children.

"What about it? In some rare cases a special attorney is appointed to represent the interests of the kid, but that's pretty rare. I know, it really sucks, but in these cases there really isn't much we can do except document as much as we can. If this guy has any brains at all, he's long gone out of our jurisdiction. We'll notify other departments to be on the lookout for him. We just gotta cover all the bases."

"Understood." I tell him, but I truly don't understand at all. I assume it's one of the many quirks of urban society.

Shortly thereafter, we arrive at the crime scene, a day care center near the downtown area. Ray directs me to some boot prints not far from the front entrance. Kneeling down I examine them closely. There are traces of mud left behind from the tread. I carefully rub a small bit of it between my thumb and forefinger, extremely fine grit, in fact it's almost slimy. I touch my tongue to it and then inhale over it, trying to get an idea of it's essence. Clay. The type of clay used to make bricks. I glance over at Ray, his back turned towards me. I really don't understand his unease with my methods, but I respect them. I do believe he has managed to keep attention away from me and my investigations. He turns as he hears me approach.

"Clay." I tell him.

"What, like from pots?"

"Well, that too, but this is the type of clay used to make bricks. I think your man may have worked at a brickworks."

"And the boots?" He asked.

"His boots are a common enough type as I'm sure your forensics lab will find. I don't think that they'll be much help."

"Benny, you're amazing. Let me put in my two cents and we'll be outta here."

I nod in agreement and look around a little more to see if anything else becomes apparent. Nothing does and Ray returns in a few minutes.

"On the money, Fraser. Dad works at the Illini Brickworks. They'll check it out. He may have taken her outside Chicago, but maybe he kept his job. If not, there aren't too many brickworks in northern Illinois. Shouldn't be too hard to track him down."

"Think they'll find him?" I ask.

"Probably. He doesn't have a record or anything, so he'll probably take good care of the kid in the meantime. Unless he leaves the state completely, he shouldn't be too hard to find. Wanna get something to eat before I take you home?"

"Yeah, Ray, that sounds good." I reply, realizing that I am indeed hungry.

"Pizza, ok?" he asks on the way to his car.

"Fine, as long as I can take some to Diefenbaker. If I come home smelling of pizza without bringing him some, he won't talk to me for a week."

"Well, you'll have to save him some from your half. I'm not giving any up for that chow hound. He steals my food as it is."

"All right, Ray." I tell him as we get into the car.

We pass the short trip in companionable silence. I'm thinking of asking him about the finer points of flirting, but I'm not sure I want to discuss it with anyone. Ray's my best friend, but his perspective on women is, well, very different from mine. He grew up in a house full of women for one thing. Which would probably make him ideal to discuss this with. I just don't want to appear, uh, foolish. There it is, my pride getting in the way. I decide, if the opportunity presents itself, I'll try to broach the subject.

We arrive at the restaurant, are seated and Ray orders for us. He spends the time until the pizza arrives explaining the intricacies of domestic law. I presume that they are quite similar in Canada. Among the Inuit, child welfare is the responsibility of the entire community and therefore these issues are generally settled socially. By the time Ray has finished with his explanations, the pizza is half gone. I find my appetite has left me again as I try to find a way to ask him about.......women

"Ray, I uh, well, I find myself, um...."

"Yeah." He says around a mouthful of food.

"Well, I'm finding myself at somewhat of a, uh....disadvantage, in..."

"Benny, near as I can tell, you were born disadvantaged."

"Well, no Ray, not exactly. Except when it comes to...um, certain areas that I now find...."

"Women? Fraser, are you asking me about women?" Ray says a little too loudly for my taste. His eyebrows have crept up his forehead.

"Ray, please! Lower your voice." I'm embarrassed and look quickly around us to see if he was overheard. Fortunately, the restaurant is almost deserted, the only other occupants seated across the room.

"I'm sorry, it's just that you always avoid the subject like the proverbial plague. I mean even when Victoria had you by the......." He stopped mid sentence at what must have been my pained expression.

"Sorry," He starts again, "I didn't mean to bring back bad memories. So, what do you want to know?"

"Well, as sophomoric as it sounds, I wanted to ask you about......um... flirting. I mean, I know when women are, uh.... Aggressive, but what about the more subtle cues, which as I understand it, are more in the realm of ......flirting." I am about as uncomfortable as I can ever remember, with the possible exception of the time his sister, Francesca, came to my apartment late one night, in what could be called less than appropriate attire.

"You want to know how to tell if a woman is flirting with you, is that it?"

"Yes, Ray." I am thankful that I didn't have to explain further.

"Well most of it is in the eyes. She'll kind of make eye contact and then look away real fast, kinda like she hopes you didn't notice, but maybe she hopes you did. Maybe she smiles a little, but not too much. She wants you to know she's interested, but not too interested, you know?" He looks at me expectantly.

"No, Ray, I'm afraid I don't."

"Ok, maybe we can do this another way. You think a woman is flirting with you?" at my reluctant affirmative, he continues, "So what did she do?"

I have to be very careful here, I don't want to reveal too much.

"Well, I've seen her in my neighborhood a few times and we met on the street outside her apartment. We said hello and then she made a comment about my hat. We exchanged a few more pleasantries then, as she was leaving, she said she'd hoped she hadn't offended me." I realize I may have left out a few salient details, but I thought it should be enough to start with.

"Sounds like a definite possible. Did she make eye contact?"

"Oh yes."

"And what was the hat thing about?"

"It was something about, uh, Smoky the Bear."

"Oh Yeah! I'd forgotten all about him. I knew I'd seen that kind of hat somewhere, when you showed up with it. When she said that, what was she doing?" Ray was being very attentive.

I shut my eyes to revisit the episode.

"She was smiling, laughing almost. And she remembered seeing me at the Consulate, but she couldn't remember the exact name for it." I open my eyes and look at him expectantly.

"I'd say she was flirting, but not real obviously. Maybe she wasn't even aware of it."

"Is that possible?"

"Sure. Sometimes people don't even know they're doing it."

"Ahhh."

"I've even see you do it."

"No, I never......" I protest.

"Oh, yes, I have. I'm sure it's unintentional, if that makes you feel any better, but every once in a while you'll be talking to a lady and you get this kinda thing going like you're nervous or something. You make eye contact, then you look away, look back again. You're flirting, sort of, and you don't even know it."

"Ahhh." Now I really am perplexed, but I think I have a little better comprehension.

"So, you going to ask this woman out or what?" He asks. I'm not prepared to discuss this, so I answer the only truthful way I can.

"I don't know, Ray."

"Go for it, Benny."

"Go for what?"

"Her. Ask her out, it's only a date. I mean it doesn't have to be a big deal. Ask her out for coffee or something." He says, as we pay the check and get ready to leave.

"I'll consider it" I tell him and pick up the leftover pizza for Dief. Ray insists on giving me a ride home even though it's only 26 blocks and the weather is mild.

"Just get in the car, Fraser."

"Ray, it's out of the way...." I really don't need a ride home.

Ray leans over the roof of the car and says quietly.

"Benny, shut up and get in the car. I got somethin' I wanna to say to you."

"Oh. All right" I get into the car with trepidation. Ray is a man of few words and I'm afraid of what he wants to say. He puts it in gear and heads toward my apartment.

"Look, I know, guys, we aren't good at this kind of thing, but I just wanted you to know that I think it would be.........well, nice, if you met someone. I know that Victoria really ripped your heart out, but you can't let that stop you. You're a good man. Like the ad says 'Just do it'"

"Just do what?"

"Ask her out, go on a date, what ever passes for courtship behavior in Inuktuk, or where ever it is you come from. You gotta move on. 'Nuf said, now get outta here and I'll talk to you later, ok?" Ray had pulled up in front of my building. He had actually been quite eloquent and I was touched by his concern. So much so that I decided to forego pointing out that I was from Inuvik, not Inuktuk.

"Thank you Ray, I appreciate your......."

"Get outta here, Fraser. Go feed your wolf. I gotta get home and get some sleep." He interrupted me. Apparently he is less than comfortable with his sentiment.

"Good night." I say and he waves his hand in reply and is gone. I reflect that I am indeed fortunate in counting Ray Vecchio as my friend. When I open my door, Diefenbaker looks at me expectantly.

"Yes, I know I'm late, but Ray needed my help. I brought you some pizza" I show him the peace offering and he takes it from me. I've decided to completely ignore his behavior this morning, since I can't decide if he was acting out of malice or trying to be helpful. It's hard to tell with wolves. A familiar knock at my door interrupts my speculation.

"Mr. Fraser" I recognize the voice of Mr. Mustafi, my neighbor, and answer the door.

"Good evening Mr. Mustafi. How can I help you?"

"Yes, a nice lady came by earlier this evening and was going to put this note on your door. I remember you said that notes weren't good - that people know you aren't home when they see a note, so I told her that I would give it to you. Is she a friend of yours?" He said, everything coming out in a rush.

"You did the right thing, Mr. Mustafi, Thank you kindly." I ignore his question, take the note from him, and glance at it. I don't recognize the handwriting. I suddenly feel as if I'm not getting enough air and bid my neighbor good night and close the door. It's a simple piece of ivory stationary folded once and taped. On the front, in a feminine hand 'Benton Fraser', is written. I open the note and read quickly.

Dear Benton,

Thank you for your invitation. I would be delighted to join you for dinner on Friday.

Please pick me up at my apartment, number 23D, at 8 PM.

I'm looking forward to seeing you again.

Sincerely,

Laura Hastings.

Ohhhh dear.

Chapter 4

All week I've been preoccupied with my upcoming date. I find it hard to reconcile the fear and anticipation that I feel. Fear, of course, for all the obvious reasons. While I am experienced and confident in my abilities as a law enforcement officer, I've hardly been a raging success at affairs of the heart. Put on the spot, I'm even more stiff and awkward than usual. Anticipation, because a small part of me wants to see her, get to know her better......even touch her perhaps. It's the same part of me that refuses to feel shame about watching her. The part of me that wants to make love to her, giving her everything the other man can't, or won't, give her. Overwhelmingly, however, I want to run away. Away from her and the things she makes me feel. I'm terrified that those things will consume me. As I look at myself in the mirror, I see my father behind me. Maybe he's getting better at this, his presence doesn't startle me.

"So, I see you've taken my advice. Getting on with things. Good, good."

I decide not to tell him that this wasn't entirely voluntary.

"I'm still not entirely sure this is the best course."

"I think it's a step in the right direction. Out with a lovely young woman, breeze coming in off the lake. So tell me, what's your plan?"

"What's my plan?"

"Yes, you have to have a plan. Take her out under the stars, show her the aurora borealis. You, her, the moonlight. Ahhh, yes."

I do believe the man is unhinged.

"Dad, in case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of Chicago. The stars are barely visible and we are far too far south to see the aurora borealis."

"Oh" he says, looking around him, "So we are."

"I'm taking her to dinner."

"And?"

"And? What 'and?'"

"Surely you're going to do more than feed her. You've got to sweep her off her feet, son."

"Don't you think it's a little late for dating advice?"

"Better late than never, I always say."

I give him a long look. There was a time when I would have welcomed this advice, but it's too late for that now. I take the red serge out of the closet and examine it. It served me well on my date with Ms. King not so long ago.

"Good God son, you're going to wear that?"

"Why on earth not? It's the best uniform I have."

"I know it's your dress uniform, but don't you think it's a little......well, bright? I mean I'm stuck with it, but you have a choice and I'm afraid that while you wear it well, it might......overshadow the poor woman. Do you happen to know what she's wearing?"

He stood by my dining room window and inclined his head towards Laura's apartment. Could he be suggesting what I think he's suggesting? I make no move towards him.

"Don't tell me you're getting squeamish now? Lord knows you've been watching her for months and now you develop a conscience about it?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what? Don't you want to know what she's wearing?"

Letting out a sigh of exasperation, I turn off the light and walk to the window, standing to the side to hide my presence. I look around the side of the window and glance into her bedroom. Laura sits on the bed, her back to me. She isn't wearing anything at all and her hair is wet. I drop my eyes and scratch an eyebrow with my thumb.

"So what's she wearing? What color?"

"She's not wearing anything, dad." God, this just keeps deteriorating. Fortunately the mere sight of her isn't enough to create a .......physical reaction in me. I really don't think I could hold up my end of this conversation with that going on. It tends to put one at a distinct disadvantage. When I look back she's standing, still with her back to me and begins to bend over to pick up something on the floor.

"Oh!" I hear myself exclaim, walking quickly away from the window. It's infinitely safer talking about my clothing choices.

"Um, fine, well, I'll wear the brown then." I tell my father's ghost. Maybe he'll go away if he's satisfied with what I'll be wearing.

"Good choice, son. More versatile, too."

"Thank you." I'm not sure what he means by versatile, but I don't ask. I gather my toiletries and head for the door, "Now, if you don't mind....." I address him, but he's gone. Thank god. I head for the shared facilities and draw a bath. While it runs, I pass a hand over my jaw, considering my reflection in the mirror. Do I need to shave? No, probably not. Getting into the tub, I wish for perhaps the thousandth time that this place had a shower. It's so much more convenient. Oh, a tub is fine for soaking aches and pains away, but a shower's so much more efficient. It only takes a few minutes to do what's necessary and soon I'm finished, making my way back to my apartment. With my father gone, I again turn out the light and look into her apartment. I'm relieved that she's since dressed in what appears to be dark green, I think, though it's hard to tell at this distance. She looks at herself in the mirror, adjusting the drape of the dress, then leaves the room and the light in her bath comes on. I turn my light back on and begin to dress myself. I'm tying my tie, when it occurs to me what my father meant by versatile. I can take my jacket off and still be wearing the shirt. If I were to remove my tunic, I'll be left in my undershirt and braces. Considering how warm it is, the brown does seem the better choice. I polish my shoes and belt, brush my hat. I check my watch. Seven fifty. It's time. I take a deep breath, go to the refrigerator. I bought a small bouquet of flowers this time, rather than a corsage. I couldn't help but notice that it seemed to give Ms. King some concern, so perhaps this is more appropriate. With a word to Deifenbaker, I leave for Laura's apartment, taking approximately four and a half minutes to arrive at her door.

Again, I take a deep breath and knock twice. After a moment, she answers and I can't think of a thing to say. Her dark hair is up in some type of clamp, a few tendrils left loose to frame her face. Her eyes are still the same arresting shade of blue, set off by the deep green of her dress. It's cut in a "V" showing just a bit of uh.....cleavage. I am determined not to stare and move on, noting the way the fabric flows over the flare of her hips, falling to just above her knees. She is standing in her stocking feet. I snap my gaze back to her face.

"Hello. Uh, you look very.....nice, this evening." Nice! That's the best I can do? Nice? I sort of thrust the flowers at her.

"Thank you. They're lovely. Why don't you step inside and I'll put them in some water." I remove my hat as I step inside and close the door behind me. She steps into her shoes, black, with 8 centimeter heels, and walks into the kitchen. I can see her from my place by the door. She's opening and closing cupboards, finally finding what she's looking for. She rises on her toes, the hem of her skirt traveling upwards as well. I'm fascinated by the shape of her legs, muscles of her calves and thighs flexing.

"Ben, can you reach this?" she interrupts my observations. I walk into the kitchen and easily reach the vase. I hand it to her and as she's filling it, I'm struck by my memory of her with the man in this very kitchen. I force it from my mind and try to think of something to say. At this rate it's going to be an agonizing evening. She arranges the flowers in the vase and passes close to me on the way to the living room where she places them on a table. Her scent is........warm, slightly sweet and a little....musky. She turns to me and I realize we have said very little to each other.

"Shall we go?" She says, picking up her purse and walking to the door. I nod and follow her, waiting while she locks it.

"You look quite nice yourself, Ben." She takes my offered arm and we make our way outside. Unfortunately, there's not a cab in sight, but we walk to the corner, where I'm able to hail one on the cross street. I help her into the cab, following her in on the passenger side. I give the driver the name of the restaurant and he pulls away from the curb. Laura is sitting quite close to me, fidgeting. I feel her hand on the outside of my thigh and start a bit.

"Uhm, you're sitting on my skirt." She's trying to pull it out from under me.

"Oh, I, I'm terribly sorry" and lift myself as she frees and straightens it. She doesn't move away however, still sitting close. I must look mortified because she puts her hand on mine, her eyes focused on the road in front of us.

"It's ok. No big deal." I turn my hand over and take hers in mine. Her skin is warm and dry as her fingers curl gently around mine. I relax a bit at the simplicity of her gesture. She seems so polished, comfortable with all of this. Looking at the side of her face, though, I see a hint of tension around her eyes. Perhaps she's not as calm as she appears.

"Laura, uhm, I hope you like seafood. Marlowe's is supposed to have some of the best in Chicago." I try by way of conversation.

"Oh, I love seafood. It's one of my favorites. I've never been there, though."

The driver glances over his shoulder and winks at me, though I don't know why.

"Good. I'd hoped you did, although I'm sure they serve other.....uh, things as well. I ate a lot of fish growing up and I find I miss it." I say, hoping she'll pick up on my rather thin opening line. I'm really not enjoying this.

"Really, where did you grow up?" She asks as I'd hoped. Not that I really want to talk about myself and my background, but with witnesses and suspects, they are often more forthcoming if you reveal something about yourself. Of course, she isn't either of those, but I believe the principle still holds.

"In the Yukon and Northwest Territory in Northern Canada. My mother died when I was young and my father was away a lot of the time, so I was raised by my grandparents."

"Ahh, I see. I was close to my grandparents too. And how did a Mountie come to be stationed in Chicago?"

"I came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father and for .......various reasons, I stayed on as Deputy Liaison Officer." There. All that's out of the way. "You mentioned you grew up in Colorado. How did you come to live in Chicago?"

"Well, I was born here, in Chicago, but my family moved to Colorado when I was about 14. I spent most of my formative years there, hiking, camping and all that. After I graduated from college, I got my first job back here."

"What do you do?"

"I'm an accountant. Not terribly interesting, I'm afraid."

"No, no, I'm sure there are aspects of it that could be, er..might be considered interesting."

"Ben, you're very kind, but no, it isn't remotely interesting. I just like solving puzzles, that's all."

"Aaah." Luckily the cab stops in front of the restaurant. I help her out of the cab and pay the driver, in American bills. I stopped at the bank on my way home and exchanged a fair sum. I replace my hat, she takes my arm and entering the restaurant, are quickly shown to our table. I put my hat on an extra chair and we open our menus. I'm a bit taken aback at the prices, but am prepared. I glance at Laura, but any concern is carefully concealed

I give her a few minutes to examine the menu, then ask her, "So, Laura, do you know what you'd like?"

"I don't know, Ben, it all looks good. What are you going to have?" I think she's being circumspect. She doesn't want to order something too expensive, so she's going to wait until I decide before making a final choice. It occurs to me that her manners are impeccable, well versed in the thrust and parry of social interaction.

"Well, I'm told the lobster is quite good" I say, telling her that she should feel free to order it. I also give silent thanks to my grandmother once again for her endless etiquette lessons.

"I don't know, I think I'd prefer the salmon." She's chosen an item half the price of the lobster. Her grandmother probably told her to never order the most expensive item on the menu. I smile at the thought.

"What is it?" she smiles back. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no, not at all. It's just that I was practically raised on salmon." I say, then "I think I'll have the shrimp" an entre more expensive than the salmon, but still far less than the lobster.

"I suppose salmon isn't much of a treat then." She says, and I notice for the first time how her eyes seem to glow in the candlelight. I'm sorry that her hair is up. I imagine how the different shades would reflect the light. I hear music, and see that there is a string quartet set up to one side of a small dance floor. Maybe we can dance later on. Serious conversation can be avoided when dancing. It may be the safest thing to do.

"Uh, well, no. Although it is a treat when well prepared. I grew up with salmon cakes, salmon loaf, salmon salad......"

"You had salmon loaf too? My grandmother used to make it, but from canned salmon." She leans toward me over the table as if to convey a secret and I meet her halfway. "I know it sounds disgusting, but I used to like to eat the spine." Her smile is a little embarrassed and she looks away. It looks like flirting, at least the way Ray described it.

"No, it doesn't. I used to like them too. And their chock full of calcium, very good for you." I take the opportunity to cover her hand with mine and she turns it palm up.

"That's what my grandmother used to say" She smiles at me again, and when the waiter comes to take our orders she gently pulls her hand away.

"Good evening sir, madam. Would you like to hear about our specials this evening or have you decided?"

I give him our orders and he asks if I'd like to see the wine list. I look at Laura and raise my eyebrows in question, and she shakes her head.

"No, I don't believe so."

"Sparkling water, perhaps?" He asks her.

"No, thank you. Maybe coffee or tea later."

"Very good, then."

"You don't drink?" I ask her.

"Oh, every now and then, but generally, no. I got my fill of it in college. You?"

"Other than the occasional toast to the queen, no." I hear the quartet begin a particularly lovely waltze.

"Laura...... may I have this dance?" Before the words are entirely out of my mouth, her eyes widen in surprise, and perhaps a little fear.

"Uh, well, um. I don't dance......well, I have, but not very well, I'm sorry." She looks truly unhappy about it.

"I'm quite sure you'll do just fine" I tell her, but as I begin to rise, she lets out a little squeak of protest.

"No!" she seems quite distressed and I sit back down.

"I'm really sorry, Ben, it's just that the last man I danced with told me that I kept trying to lead, which I didn't think I was doing, but......." She looks away.

While I'm sorry to have distressed her, part of me is pleased to have broken her composure. I'm determined to do this for her. I wonder if it's the same man I've seen her with. I look at the dance floor and am relieved to see several other couples. I know she wouldn't any attention drawn to her.

I take her hand again and she looks into my eyes. "Laura, it'll be fine. Come on, I'll show you."

"Oh, god. I know I'll step on you or something." She looks away again.

"You can trust me. I won't let you be embarrassed." She looks at me again and finally gives a little nod of her head, eyes wary. I help her with her chair and fold her hand into my arm as we walk to the dance floor, then turn and face her. I place her left hand on my shoulder and her right around my waist, then put my arms around her. I've never been this close to her before, her scent is intoxicating, but I put my mind to the task at hand. She's stiff, her back rigid and hot. I bring my mouth close to her ear and whisper "Relax."

I can tell she's trying, and some of the tension leaves her body. I take a few tentative steps and she follows awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, Ben, I just don't move very well." She says quietly, her eyes fixed somewhere else.

I recall how she moved in bed and think "Nonsense, you move beautifully" and stop dead in my tracks. I'd said it out loud. She looked at me, one eyebrow raised, a flush coming to her face.

"You're very kind, but I don't think so." I feel my face flush as well and decide a different tack is necessary. Gently, I pull her close to me, until we are chest to chest, both of her arms around me. I feel her palms against my back, my hands on her shoulder and waist. She feels wonderful in my arms, tense as she is.

"You do. This is just ..... unfamiliar. This might be....easier for you" I feel her shudder a little as I place my right foot between both of hers, my left back and to one side. I studiously ignore the fact that this puts my knee dangerously close to her groin. At first, I merely shift my weight from one foot to the other, first moving into her, then drawing her back with me. After a few repetitions, I feel some of the tension drain away. I wonder if she'd be this tentative if we were.....intimate. Or if she'd be the one instructing me. The latter, I suspect. I have a great deal more experience with dancing. I begin to take small steps and she follows, tentatively.

"See?" I whisper into her hair, "Not so difficult." The song ends and I suspect she'd had enough for the moment. When we separate I notice that she's flushed, her eyes dilated. I take her hand and lead her back to the table.

"Thank you" she says quietly and takes a long sip of water. Her eyes are dark. I'm afraid I've upset her.

"No, thank you........I'm sorry if I...well....."

"No. It was very nice...I.. enjoyed it. Really." I'm not so sure she did, but she reaches for my hand across the table. I take it and she strokes the back of my thumb with hers. The sensation mesmerizes me. I'm finding that I'm mesmerized any time we touch. This unsettles me. I don't want to be consumed, the way Victoria consumed me. Fortunately our meals arrive and we take our time eating. I offer her one of my shrimp and watch as her white, even teeth pull it off my fork. She offers me a piece of salmon and I follow suit, watching her eyes as she watches me. We are both careful not to reveal too much, but I think I see desire there. I know I desire her, but for what reason? Am I merely trying to rescue her? It simply wouldn't be fair to lead her on, so to speak. No, I don't think so. The effect on me when she is close is just too.......intense. We finish eating, exchanging amusing anecdotes. The evening is about to draw to a close. I find that, in spite of my discomfort, I have enjoyed her company.

"Laura, do you think I could have another dance?"

"I guess so, since you're brave enough to want to risk it."

I get up and help her with her chair again, but I don't immediately lead her away.

"Laura, may I...uh..." she looks at me questioningly as I bring my hand to her hair. She bows her head, though and I look at the implement, pressing two pieces together. Her hair falls to her shoulders and I take the liberty of dispersing it with my fingers. She looks back up at me, that unreadable expression on her face. The light catches her hair and I'm again reminded of crimson leaves in autumn. I pocket the clasp as we make our way to the dance floor. I pull her into my arms and she's much more relaxed this time. She rests her head on my shoulder, while I keep our movements small and simple. In spite of the slow pace, I feel winded. I lower my head and her scent fills my nose. Her hands stroke my back in small circles and suddenly it's the most amazing thing I've ever experienced. I'm going to have to stop this. It takes a considerable amount of control on my part not to kiss her right here. She's just so......inviting. The song comes to a close and we return to the table again. We continue holding hands across the table. The waiter returns, asking if we'd like coffee or tea. We both refuse and he passes me the check.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment?" I stand as she gets up from the table and makes her way to the ladies room. Probably her grandmother's second lesson. I review the bill, take the necessary bills from the hatband of my Stetson and put them, along with a generous gratuity in the folder. Laura returns shortly thereafter and we take our leave. The doorman hails us a cab and I take care not to sit on her dress this time. Again, she sits close to me and I can't help but notice that her skirt has crept halfway up her thighs. I stare for just a moment, then look straight ahead. I don't know what to do. Her hands are folded primly in her lap and as much as I'd like to, I can't very well just grab one. I'd try to put my arm around her, but at this proximity, I'm likely to hit her with my elbow on the way up. I give up and put my hands in my lap as well.

"Ben, I had a wonderful time. I really enjoyed your company this evening." She says. I'm a bit confused at her sudden formality and composure, but perhaps she's as discomfited as I.

"The pleasure was all mine, believe me." I respond quite properly.

Fortunately the traffic is lighter this time of night and we arrive at her building shortly. I help her out, pay the fare and walk her to her door. She fumbles with her keys, eventually finding the correct one and unlocks the door. My heart is pounding so loud I'm surprised she can't hear it. I want to kiss her goodnight, but I'm anxious. She turns to me, standing in the open door.

"Ben, it was a lovely evening. Really." She's smiling at me and puts her hands out to me. I take them, and draw her towards me.

"I enjoyed your company, Laura. Thank you for dancing with me" I loosen my right hand and bring it to her shoulder, then the side of her neck. I drop my head and touch my lips to hers, lost for the moment in that simple chaste kiss. Her lips are warm and moist and for a brief moment draw on mine, returning the caress. Then I draw away, feeling like I've been underwater for a month. My breathing, while not ragged, is certainly heavier than is normal. I straighten, determined to take myself home.

"May I see you again?" I begin to turn away.

"Yes." She says, but her hand is on the cross-strap of my uniform. "But I don't think you're finished quite yet, Constable." Again, her eyes are dark and she tugs on the strap, pulling me to her. My eyes widen in surprise and as her free hand pulls me down, she rises on her toes to meet me. She presses her lips to mine, no longer quiescent. Her lips pull at mine in a way that scatters all my thoughts and intentions, my hand tangling in her hair, pulling her head back. My control is shattered and before I know it, my tongue gently strokes her lips in supplication. She obliges me, moaning softly and returning the gesture, the velvet of her tongue gently traversing my lips. I hear my answering groan as I kiss her more deeply now, memorizing the landscape of her teeth, tongue and palate. Her hands are kneading the long muscles of my back as she takes my lower lip tenderly between her teeth, her tongue tasting, releasing, then sliding deeper, to rest briefly behind my front teeth before continuing it's journey. Another groan, louder than the last, escapes me. Finally, the activity slows, stops and we separate, both of us breathless. She trembles in my arms and I don't have to ask why, shaken myself.

"May I see you tomorrow?" I ask her, trying to compose myself.

"If you wish" She draws away from me. She meets my eyes and I understand, now, the deepening of the color. Passion.

"Oh, yes." I breath deeply, trying to clear my head. Not trusting myself to kiss her lips again, I kiss the top of her head in parting.

"Goodnight, then. Sleep well." I know that for me, at least, sleep won't come anytime soon.

"You too, goodnight" she steps inside her door and closes it.

I make my way to the sidewalk, taking a deep, cleansing breath. Laura's effect on me is disturbing. I've never felt such passion, even with Victoria, and it scares me. The short walk to my apartment does little to cool my ardor and I strip my uniform off without turning on a light. Deifenbaker gives a soft woof in greeting.

"Oh, really! Just exactly what do you find so amusing?" I ask him, but he just lies down on the rug staring at me.

I'm not quite sure what to do with myself and move aimlessly around my apartment, eventually slamming my knee into a chair. The sharp pain brings me back to myself for a moment. I'm near the window and conceal myself, looking into Laura's apartment yet again. She's in the kitchen, drinking from a glass, then walks to the bedroom, turning on the bedside lamp. She begins to undress and I just.....can't.....take...it. I hear my blood rushing in my ear as my excitement ratchets tighter. My breathing and heart rate quicken and I am not entirely aware of my actions. She brushes her hair and I feel it in my hands, then pouring something into her hands, she begins to rub it onto arms, legs and now her....breasts. I feel her skin under my hands, warm and pliant, her breasts, soft. I close my eyes and relive her kiss, the taste and feel of her tongue sliding against mine, the hard edges of her teeth, the sensation of her tongue on my lips and between my teeth. Perspiring and breath ragged, I'm awash in her scent and feel of her mouth. Remotely, I'm aware of something building deep inside me, but pay it no mind, thinking only of her lips, tongue and teeth.......on me. In the same moment as the thought, bright light blooms behind my eyes, a sensation so intense it's almost painful consumes me and I hear myself gasp loudly in surprise.......and release. I lean heavily against the wall, my knees weak, slowly returning to myself. I'm deeply shocked at my own behavior and putting.....things to rights, I go to the kitchen sink and wash my hands. Leaning heavily on my arms, head down, I try to reorder my thoughts, justify what I've done. Shame weighs heavily upon me and though it's nothing I haven't done a hundred, perhaps a thousand times before, it's never been like this. I've never felt quite this..........lost.

I go to the bed and lie down. Sleep should come easily now. Just before I drop off, it occurs to me that, while she agreed to see me tomorrow, I didn't give her a time. Which is just as well, since I have no idea what we're going to do either.

Oh dear.

Chapter 5

In spite of my.......activity last evening, I awaken early in a state that has become far too common. I choose to ignore it, still unsettled, knowing it will eventually fade.

While I asked to see her again today, I am......unsure of how to proceed. I dress and see to breakfast for Diefenbaker and myself, remembering that I have agreed to help Ray verify a suspect's alibi this morning. While I eat, I scan the entertainment section of the newspaper and find an announcement for a concert in City Park at 7 PM. While unfamiliar with the artists, I enjoy most forms of music. I find myself smiling as I remember last evening's parting kiss. Not the hesitant, simple kiss I gave her, although I'm sure it was the catalyst, but the second kiss, her kiss. The way she pulled me to her by the strap of my uniform

took me by surprise and yes, yes I was .........afraid of what she might
do.  Her mouth was......inquisitive, but not invasive and while she may

have initiated, it was I who ventured forth to explore further. The way her lips parted under my tongue was so.......patient, unhurried. When she made her own entry to my mouth, it was with the same languid

care.  It was extremely.........stimulating and I found myself wanting
more...... 

"Put you on a slow boil, did she son?"

"Dad!" I started badly, deep in thought as I was. I'm extremely thankful

he didn't show up last night.  Either during my date or ......later...I
barely suppress a shudder.  That would have been........awkward. 

He's looking at me expectantly.

"Slow boil?" I squint at him. Sometimes his use of language is less than clear and I suspect it has nothing to do with the fact that he's dead.

"Left you wanting more, didn't she? Not so much that it's cruel, just enough to remember her by. Am I right?" It really is eerie the way he seems to read my mind at times. Is it possible? Well, he is in my mind with all my other thoughts. I may have to have a conversation with him about poking around where he shouldn't. He should keep to his own, uh, jurisdiction. In my mind. I shake my head in confusion.

"Ahhh" I try to be noncommittal

"Wise, son, very wise. A gentleman never tells. So, what's your plan?"

"A concert, I believe, unless she has some objection."

"Music to sooth the savage beast. Well done, son, well done." He chuckles, much to my confusion.

"Savage beast?" I repeat, but I don't see him anywhere. He says the most curious things and then leaves without explaining himself. It's almost, well, rude. There's a knock at my door and it occurs to me that my apartment is quite a busy place as I answer it.

"Hey, Benny! 'Ya ready?"

"Good Morning, Ray, um, could you wait for just a moment?" I ask him. I decide to leave a note for Laura informing her that I will be out this morning.

"Yeah, ok. What for?" He enters the room and closes the door behind him.

I find another piece of notepaper and pen and head for the dining table, looking towards Laura's bedroom as I pass the window. It does appear that she's still sleeping, but I don't dare to take a longer look while Ray is here.

"I uh, just need to.....well...." I can't compose a proper message to her while trying to find a suitable explanation for Ray. I take a deep breath, remembering KIS - Keep It Simple -

"I need to write a note, Ray." Hoping that this will satisfy him for the moment.

Dear Laura,

Thank you for...... *for what?*

"Who to?" Ray asks.

"What?" I'm trying to concentrate on my composition.

"Who to, who's the note to?" Ray can be so insistent.

"Laura Hastings, excuse me Ray, give me just a moment"

Dear Laura,

Thank you for last evening.

I had to leave for *uh, meeting? No, errand? Too vague?* an appointment.

I will contact you at my earliest opportunity

"Hey, is she the lady that you thought might, ya know.... Be flirting with you"

*Ray, in your own words, "shut up!"*

I look forward to seeing you again.

Sincerely,

Ben.

"Well, is she?"

"Yes, Ray" I say patiently, folding the note.

"I'll meet you at the car, this'll take just a moment. Diefenbaker, go with Ray, I'll be right back", I tell them as we leave my apartment.

Once we reach the street, I run over to Laura's apartment and up the stairs, slipping my note under the door. When I return to the car, they are both waiting for me on the sidewalk and I get into the passenger seat after holding the door for my wolf.

Ray doesn't say a word until the car is well underway. I knew his silence wouldn't last.

"So....You two had a date?" While it's phrased as a statement, it's asked as a question.

"Yes, Ray." I keep my answers short and to the point. I want to be irritated at his prying, but he was helpful the other evening.

"How'd it go? I mean, I'm not trying ta be nosy, I just, you know, hope everything went well."

"Everything went fine."

"Fine."

"Yes, Ray." We ride in silence for a time.

"Didja kiss her?" I raise my eyebrows as we look at each other. I wait a moment before answering him.

"Yes, Ray" Well, he deserves to know that his perceptions were correct.

"Really?" I just nod affirmatively.

"So, how was it?" He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, knowing he's pushing his luck.

I'm beginning to feel a bit warm as I try to answer him

"Well, um, I'd have to say.....it was, uhhh..."

"That good, huh?" He grinned at me.

"She grabbed my strap, Ray."

"She grabbed you?" He looked at me, eyebrows raised.

"Uh-huh, by my....." and I gestured at my chest by way of explanation.

Ray grinned at me "and that's a good thing, right?"

I'm becoming increasingly uncomfortable with this conversation. "Well, uh, I suppose..."

"'S'okay Benny, 'nuf said. But why a note?"

"As you know Ray, I don't have a telephone, and even if I did, I don't have her number."

He digs his mobile phone out of his pocket, dialing the precinct.

"It's Vecchio. Hey Elaine, I need a phone number for a..." he looks at me. "name?"

"You really don't need to do this , I'm...."

"Name!" He barks at me.

"Laura Hastings" I say quietly

"Laura Hastings on Racine as soon as you get a chance."

"Ok.......I know, I kn...Thanks Elaine"

I am spared further conversation by our arrival at a warehouse. Ray questions the employees while I search for evidence in the parking lot. Statements by the staff lead us to several other locations and it's several hours before I realize that I should contact Laura.

"Ray, do you think Elaine might have that number yet?"

"One way to find out......." He calls the station and a few moments later repeats the number to me. I'm about to ask him to stop at a pay phone when he pulls the car into a service station and opens his door.

"I gotta make a pit stop. Make it quick, ok?" He says, handing me his cellular telephone as he leaves.

"Ray, I don't think this constitutes official use" He looks at me, exasperated, through the open door.

"Just do it, I'll be back in a couple a minutes"

"Thank you, Ray" I say as he shuts the door and I can hear him mumbling on his way to the restroom

I enter the proper numbers and put the phone to my ear.

"Hello."

"Hello, Laura, uh, this is Con... Benton Fraser."

"Oh hi, Ben. Thanks for your note."

She sounds pleased to hear from me.

"Er, you're welcome. I thought, uh, would you like to attend a concert in City Park this evening?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice. What time does it start?"

Her voice is pitched low and I'm reminded of the sound she made as I kissed her.

"Well, um, it starts at 7, but uh, perhaps, er, you'd like....dinner?"

"Ben?"

The way her eyes changed color with emotion.

"Yes?"

"Why don't I just make us something we can take with us?"

The way her hands stroked my back while we were dancing.

"Oh! Well..... I wouldn't want you to go to any, er...trouble."

"It won't be any trouble, I'll make something simple, ok?"

Her hand on my chest, pulling me towards her.

"Yes, uh, that would be nice.....Laura. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, at least not until you've tried it."

The way her tongue felt against mine.

"Tried what?

"My cooking."

Oh dear.

"I'm sure whatever you prepare will be just fine, Laura. I'll pick you up at 6 o'clock, all right?"

I know I'm sounding a bit rushed, but Ray's returning from the men's restroom and her voice is very.....distracting.

"Yeah, that'll be just fine. I'll see you then."

"Yes, I'm looking forward to it. Goodbye."

"'Bye." I listen until she rings off, press "end" and snap it shut.

Ray gets back into the car and I hand him his telephone.

"Thank you, Ray." For both the use of your phone and the privacy, I don't need to add.

"No problem, everything worked out?"

"Yes, fine"

"Good, 'cos there's a couple of other places I wanna check out, if you're up for it." He peers at me as he starts the Riviera.

"You ok, Benny? You look at little...uh....."

"I'm fine, Ray. It's just rather ....warm, in here." I explain, as it is indeed quite a warm day.

"I'll bet" he shoots back with a knowing look. "Ya know, you're the only guy I know who wears flannel in the middle of summer."

Ray puts the car in gear and I assist him in interviewing several more bartenders and shopkeepers. It's mid-afternoon when he finally drops me at my apartment.

"Ok, I'll talk to ya later and Benny?"

"Yeah?" I look back at him

"Have a good time. Relax a little, ok?"

"I'll try Ray, thanks."

Diefenbaker follows me up the stairs and through the door. Taking off my hat, I go to the refrigerator for some milk. I glance over to Laura's apartment, finding her in the kitchen. Preparing our dinner, I suppose. Just as my thoughts are about to wander, Diefenbaker whines loudly.

"You're absolutely right. I'm sorry, I haven't meant to neglect you."

He groans a bit, as I get his kibble and prepare it for him. He was hoping for something a bit tastier, but I really have been trying to keep him to a proper diet. I don't know what he's going to do when we go back north. Not a lot of candy bars lying about up there. On the other hand, if I ever have to track down a candy consuming litterbug, I'll have the perfect partner, I smile to myself as I put down his dish. Diefenbaker is not amused, but eats his kibble in silence. Except for the crunching of course. I go about my weekly cleaning while he eats. It's remarkable the amount of dust that accumulates in here during the week. My laundry will have to wait until tomorrow. I then realize that I'm not entirely sure what constitutes proper attire for tonight's concert. Reviewing my wardrobe, there's very little to choose from. Since the concert is in the park, I would assume the dress is casual. My casual clothing consists of bluejeans and any number of flannel shirts. I bit too casual for a concert, I'm afraid. It appears that my brown uniform will have to make another appearance. I wash up, shave and dress, forcing from my mind the memory of her hand tugging at me. Walking to her apartment, I find I am less anxious tonight. Outside her door I stretch my neck and straighten my tie before knocking. She answers quickly, wearing a light summer dress with a rather long, full skirt. Her hair is loose, falling around her shoulders and framing her face.

"Hi Ben, I'm so glad to see you." She smiles at me and I smile back as she takes my hand and draws me in to her apartment, closing the door behind me. I inhale her scent as she rises on her toes and kisses my cheek.

"I'm, uh, glad to see you too." I tell her as I brush her cheek with my lips, then let her lead me into the kitchen. Plastic containers of various colors and sizes are stacked on the counter with serviettes, cups and utensils. She carefully packs everything into a canvas bag and turns to me.

"I think that's everything. Do you think you could carry this?" She's beginning to walk past me, but I don't want to leave just yet. I want to kiss her again, realizing that I've been thinking of her most of the day whether I knew it or not. I reach out and touch her shoulder.

"Yes, of course, but I don't believe we're quite finished here yet." I bring my hands to her face and lower my lips to hers. Her mouth is as soft and inviting as it was last night when she said those words to me. This time I'm more aware of what I'm doing as I taste her lips with my tongue. She tastes of herbs and spices as I breathe her breath, her lips parting to grant me entrance. Again I feel the hard surfaces of her teeth and the soft velvet of her mouth as she explores my mine in return. I am lost in the sensation and taste of her, my hands winding in her hair as she sucks on my tongue. She backs to the counter and our teeth clash together as I follow her. I put my lips to her neck and Laura releases a breathy sigh that sends a tingle throughout my body, settling where we're pressed tightly together. Where I've become very.....stiff.

"If you keep doing that, we'll never make it to the concert" She says quietly near my ear, her warm breath sending additional signals to my groin.

"Understood." I agree and release her, straightening my jacket. Fortunately,

it's long enough to cover me.  I'm sure the.....problem, will subside
in the absence of any additional .........contact.  Picking up the bag,

we leave her apartment, finding a cab and arriving in plenty of time for the concert. The music is of a similar type to what I've heard from her apartment and Laura's pleased. There are no chairs, everyone sitting on the grass, many, like us, having brought supper with them. Once we found an appropriate spot, she spread the blanket. She watches me closely as I unfasten my belt and remove my jacket.

"Quite a lot of leather you wear." She says, taking it from me and bringing it to her nose. "I love the way it smells"

"Neatsfoot oil." I say quickly, by way of explanation. The way she handles it.......affects me. It's somehow sensual the way she runs her hand along the grain.

"Neatsfoot oil?"

"Yes. It's used to clean and polish leather." I remove my tie and unfasten the collar button. She takes my tie and carefully rolls it around her hand, tucking it into my jacket pocket. We sit down and she brings out the food she's prepared. Some sort of chicken salad we can scoop up with pita bread. The music haunting almost primal, but moving. When we're finished eating she pours us cups of cold tea and I put my arm around her, holding her close. I feel contended, lighter than I have in some time. The pace of the music picks up as the temperature drops with nightfall and I direct Laura to sit in front of me, between my knees, her back to my chest, with my arms around her. It feels good to hold her close and I rest my cheek on her hair, close my eyes and listen to the music. We sway together with the driving beat, the sensation of her body against mine creating a pleasant friction between us and through my.......oh dear. I try to make small adjustments, to avoid rubbing against her, but she puts a hand on my knee, tipping her head back to look at the side of my face.

"Ben? Are you all right?"

"Ah, yes. Fine, actually, I, uh just......"

"It's ok.  Relax....." she brushes her lips against my neck and I moan.
At least she's stopped moving, rubbing against me.  "Close your eyes......

listen to the music." Her voice is low and sultry. I don't think she fully appreciates my predicament, that closing my eyes and listening to the music has caused the problem in the first place. I try to relax. I'm quite sure that I won't ...well....embarrass myself, I'm more concerned that she can feel me against her back. She kisses my neck again, flicking her tongue against it. I feel an answering surge down below and flinch, both from pleasure and embarrassment.

"Ben, it's all right. I'd be far more concerned if you weren't..........responding"

I feel my eyes widen at her comment. I look down at her, clearing my throat before attempting to speak.

"Um, might I suggest you keep still or you might get more....er..... response, than you bargained for." I say, hardly believing my own words. She chuckles against my throat, the sound vibrating against my chest, traveling.......everywhere. Fortunately she heeds my warning and remains relatively still within my arms. I'm relieved that she doesn't find it objectionable, even more so that she respects my concerns. Some women might have found it amusing to taunt me. The fact that Laura isn't one of them makes me increasingly fond of her. I recall the man that visited her. It's possible that she may have paid dearly for such an offense. I haven't told her of what I'd observed and am now unsure if I should. While confession is good for the soul, it shouldn't come at the cost of another. The concert is coming to a close and Laura draws away from me with a brief kiss in the darkness when the stage lights go down. We gather the blanket, putting my belt in the bag, my coat over my arm. I hail a cab from the waiting group and soon are at her door again. She unlocks it and I enter with her, putting the bag on the kitchen counter. She retrieves my belt and hands it to me. Our hands touch and I pull her into an embrace, kissing her more fiercely than I had intended. The intensity of passion I feel surprises me. She eventually breaks away, leading me by the hand to her sparse living room, boxes still against the walls. Urging me to be seated on the couch, she resumes the kiss, her arms around my neck. I groan loudly as her tongue strokes behind my teeth, then between my molars where I gently close my teeth on it. I release it, moving to kiss her neck and she cries out sharply, her back arching against me. I ease her back until she's partially reclining on pillows and continue my assault, pressing my teeth into her sensitive skin. Her reaction is immediate, her hips pressing into me. My hands stroke her back, moving towards her hips and she begins suckling at my neck, then taking my earlobe between her teeth, a gasp escaping me in response. She lets go of my ear only to drag her teeth down my neck, briefly attaching to a muscle there, before licking the spot and inhaling sharply over it. Conscious thought leaves me momentarily as I'm overcome by sensation, my hand now on her bare thigh beneath her skirt, stroking the silky skin. I find myself pressed firmly against her hip as she rubs against me, recreating the delightful friction from earlier this evening. My entire body wants to make love to her and is amply prepared to do so, but inevitably rational thought returns. I cannot do this thing. Not now. Not like this. Not tonight. I am ill-prepared, having never thought of protection, never thinking it would come to this so soon. Ill-prepared mentally as well, what making love to her will mean. There have been brief encounters in the past, the result of a chance meeting in the unforgiving extremes of my territory, most satisfactory, others less so. Victoria was the result of one such encounter. Only now do I understand that her body was nothing more than a bribe to buy her release. She never imagined that I would turn her in regardless of what we had shared. I don't want that for Laura. It is inevitable that I will return to my home. I don't want what is now so precious to be marred by anger and hate. As much as I want her, as hard as it is, I bring our kiss to a close. She's transfixed, fully aroused.

"Laura. Laura." She opens her eyes, deep sapphire now, and meets my gaze.

"I....I, uh, have to stop." I have trouble finding my voice.

"Hmm, oh, why?" She looks confused.

"Uh, if I, that is,er....we...continue on this course, I'm afraid I.....can't, won't be able to stop." I am apologetic, sorry to disappoint her and am prepared for her anger.

"Who says you have to stop?" smiling at me seductively.

"I, I uh, well, don't want either of us to do something in the...Ahh, heat of passion, that we may come to regret later." It sounds hollow to me, a cliche. Something I might say in the line of duty. She sits up, however, looking rather amused.

"Well, while I'm not so sure about regrets, but um, I understand, Ben. I just hope we can continue this....uh, discussion at another time."

"I'm sorry, to have....well, uh, started something here, that I'm unable to....um, consummate" Laura stands and I follow her to her door, collecting my things along the way. She puts her arms around me and presses her lips to mine briefly.

"Oh, I'd say you're quite able to....consummate........what you've started," I expect her eyes to sweep downward, to judge for herself the state of my preparedness, but they never leave my face. "but I appreciate your reluctance. Thank you for a lovely evening. Need I say, that I hope to see you again soon?"

"No. I share your sentiment, believe me. Thank you for your understanding, I just wasn't prepared for....well, this. The pleasure was all mine, believe me." I kiss her and leave, hurrying to the privacy of my apartment. Again, I leave the lights off, Diefenbaker acknowledging my presence with a soft woof. I have left the kitchen window open, so he could see to his needs without my assistance. I drop my things on a chair, quickly removing my shirt and trousers as well, and lie down on my bed. I knew when I left her, my physical need unsatisfied, that I would have to do this. I draw the sheet over me, turning on my side and thank god that Diefenbaker is deaf as I use my hands as I would have used Laura's body, combining images from my memory with my own experience of her taste, scent and touch. This seems less shameful, somehow, than before, when she was only an image to me. I imagine how our bodies would feel, moving together as they did with the music. I feel the tension build and visualize her hands on me, urging me on. The end comes quickly. I shudder with relief after the long period of arousal. As I begin to fall asleep, I make a mental note to myself. Buy condoms. Oh dear.

Chapter 6

It wasn't the thought of making the purchase that I found distressing. It was more the idea that I had a need for them. So soon, really, after Victoria's betrayal and my own horrifying deceits. I have only myself to blame. For my own vulnerability, my desperation and isolation as responsible for my downfall as she was. If I hadn't been homesick and lonely I might not have been so blind to her true intentions.

"So, son, here we are." I look up, startled, though I'm not surprised to see him. He always seems to show up when my thoughts follow this particular path.

"Yes."

"You know, I really wish you wouldn't brood so much. I don't know where it comes from, but I really wish you'd quit. ......Must be from your mother's side of the family."

"Oh, so you think I should just, just, just.....do what ever I want and damn the consequences?" I hear myself sounding snappish.

"No, no, course not, but 'there is a time for every purpose under heaven'. A time to be calm and considered and a time to go with your instincts. You're usually so good with these things, I'm surprised that you're at such a loss now." His words and off-handed praise deflate my indignation.

"Dad, the last time I followed my instincts with regard to a woman it almost destroyed me as well as those close to me. I don't want to make the same mistake again. I won't."

"I know you won't. But son, you're looking for answers to questions that haven't even been asked. You can't hope to know the answers. You have to take the journey to find them."

I simply nod my head, knowing he's right. Laura had ignited something within me something only she could remedy. I feel ....a general irritation, with everything. My clothing is too binding, my uniform itches, my temperature feels elevated. Perhaps I should have my ears checked.

"She seems......nice, son. For what it's worth, I think she could do you good."

"Dating advice from the dead?" but I instantly regret my harsh words, immune to them as he seems to be. "Sorry. It's just that this shouldn't just be about what's good for me. What about what's good for her? What about that? Maybe she doesn't need another man...........using her? You don't know what I almost did." My voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

"Who are you to judge what's good for her? Don't you think she should be the judge of that? She's an adult, capable of making her own decisions, just as you are. 'Appearances can be deceiving', I've heard you say it yourself, on more than one occasion. What you almost did was let yourself go for once and that's not always a bad thing."

"I'm not sure I follow you." What exactly is he getting at?

"There's a wildness in you, son, always has been, from the time you were a babe." He sits down across from me. "But ever since your mother died, you've bridled it. From age six on, you've kept it carefully hidden, controlled it. It's why you're so well suited to the north where you can be yourself, living by your wits. You need to let go of that control, be wild, before it destroys you. You need a relief valve, some....way to release some of that." He looks at me across the table and I flinch from his inspection.

"Look at yourself. You've been twitching and fidgeting since I got here. Something's gotta give. Let go. I think she" he indicates Laura's apartment beyond my window, "can help you do that."

I nod, get up, look over at her apartment. "I don't want to hurt her." I tell him in a small voice.

"You're kind, with a good heart and she's strong. Maybe she needs some of that wildness for herself, ever think of that? Maybe she needs you as much as you need her."

I take a deep breath and release it, trying to calm myself. Attending to my own physical needs hasn't eased my longing for her. I want her so badly, but is it merely lust I feel, or something else? I vaguely remember Ray saying something about love and lust, something about how I didn't reveal those things. Well Ray, just because you don't see them doesn't mean I don't feel them.

"I hope you're right" I turn to my father, but he's gone again. Of course.

I considered my father's words. It's true that over the course of living in the city, I've felt something, I'm not sure just what, building within me. Sometimes I feel as if I'm in a foreign place where I'm familiar with the language and customs, but I don't truly belong. While it's true that the United States is a foreign country to me, I suspect I would feel just as alienated in Calgary or Toronto. I recall feeling out of place during my time in Ottawa at the academy.

I hear the familiar creak of the Riviera's suspension system and go to the door, looking at Diefenbaker as I leave.

"You're sure you don't want to go?"

He groans and reclines on the rug to illustrate just how much he doesn't want to accompany me.

"All right, then, I'll see you later." I tell him as I shut the door and jog down the stairs to where Ray's waiting for me at the curb.

"Hey, Benny, I was just comin' in to get ya. What? No wolf today?"

"Hello Ray. Diefenbaker's a bit under the weather from the heat. I think it's mostly psychosomatic, but.....I'm going to humor him for now."

"You're humoring a wolf."

"For now. I've been a bit.......preoccupied, lately"

"You? Preoccupied?........Nawwww." His voice laced with heavy sarcasm, then, "Seriously, you ok?"

"I'm fine, Ray."

"You sure? 'cos you been kinda edgy the last coupla days."

"Yes......and I am not edgy."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

" It might help....."

"Ray! Please. I'm fine." I say, more sharply than I intended.

"Ooookay. 'Nuf said." Ray agrees, just as his cell phone begins to ring.

"Vecchio."

"All right, I'm on my way" he closes the cell phone, activates the emergency light and floors the accelerator all at once. I brace myself between the ceiling and the dash as he takes several corners at a high rate of speed.

"Some kids found a woman's body down by the river. Beaten, possibly raped"

Neither of us say much as we make our way down the steep slope to the corpse. The coroner is already there, preserving any possible evidence. A wave of panic flows over me when a head of dark hair, motionless, comes into view, very similar in color to Laura's, but I force it aside. There is no further resemblance. I squat next to the dead woman and make my own assessment of time and cause of death. Her wrists are bruised, indentations still present, meaning that they were bound at the time of her death. The indentation is too wide and well defined for handcuffs.

"May I?" I ask the coroner and she hands me a pair of latex gloves. Drawing them on I gently lift the stiff arm, sniffing at the wrist picking up the telltale odor of leather as well as a possible dye stain. I also note the livid strangulation marks on her neck, the hyaloid bone likely crushed. There are numerous bite marks on her breasts and thighs, several deep enough to have broken the skin. I estimate she died approximately 12 hours ago, but I'm not entirely certain of the rate of decomposition in this climate. I glance at Ray as I straighten, walk back up to the roadway, trying to find the proper perspective, a place the killer might have stopped his vehicle to unload the body. It's obvious that she wasn't killed here. I examine the roadbed at my feet, looking for anything......wrong, different, recent. There, a cigarette butt. I carefully pick it up between my gloved fingers, replacing it with a pen. While it could have been thrown from any of a number of passing cars, it's been crushed. I bring it to my nose, the acrid smell of burned tobacco still strong. I descend the slope once more, Ray meeting me at the bottom.

"I found this up there, where the body could have been unloaded. I know it's not much, but if DNA from this matches DNA from the body......Also forensics may want to check for tire tracks."

"Thanks, Benny. Those guys'll follow up on it." As he turns away, his cell phone rings again.

"Vecchio"

"All right, we're on the way. Yeah. Ok. Fraser!" I finish explaining what I've found and where, stripping off the latex gloves and handing them back for disposal.

"A suspect was just brought in. Beat cop caught him trying to take another woman" He explains as we walked to the car.

"So, what d'ya think." He asks as he puts the car in gear, turning directly into oncoming traffic. One of these days he's going to get one or both of us killed. Horns blare angrily from every direction

"Well, there's no sign of her clothing or sign of a struggle, so she wasn't killed here. Also her wrists had been bound with a three quarter inch leather strap of some kind, cheaply made too. She was strangled, with what, I'm not sure, though the ligature was narrower than what bound her wrists."

"Rape?"

"I believe so, though we'll have to wait for the coroner's report to be certain."

I sit quietly in the passenger seat, trying to get a handle on my emotions. For just a moment I was certain it was Laura lying down there by the river. The relief that it wasn't almost overwhelmed me. I do care for her, deeply. I need to see her. Tonight, if at all possible. I need to get away from the city, the ugliness for just a short while and I want her with me. I need to finish what I've begun with her. Or begin something with her....... it all get confused in my mind. Not at my apartment, with it's memories of Victoria and not hers and the memories of the man who used her. Someplace peaceful and clean, where we can see the stars above us, feel the breeze on our skin. I know a place, but I'll need a car to get there.

"Ray, I want.....I need to ask a favor of you."

"Sure Benny, shoot."

"Shoot? I'm afraid I...."

"What. What's the favor."

"Oh, well, I know it's a huge imposition and I wouldn't ask if, well, I didn't........"

"Geez, the point, get to the point."

"Quite right, Ray. May I borrow your car?"

"My car. You wanna borrow my car? Why? What for?"

"Yes.......I'd like to take Laura....out, and while taxis have been adequate
to this point and I'm sure I could engage one to....." 

"A date? You need my car for a date."

"Yes."

"Well, so when do ya need it?"

"Tonight, if at all possible."

"Tonight! I don't know, that's pretty short notice...."

"I understand. Please forget I asked."

"No, it's ok. You can use it, I guess I can get something from the motor pool"

"Thank you Ray. I'll take good care of it."

"You better. So......things are good....between you and her?" He watches the road, trying to make his inquiry seem casual.

"Yes, good," I try to be non-committal

"Good?" He looks at me.

"Good. Fine........ Ray? You are familiar, I presume, with......uh..the protocol of dating?"

"The protocol of dating? What protocol! There is no such thing as protocol when it comes to dating."

"Ahh." He cuts his eyes at me.

"Don't start with me, Benny"

I had hoped to learn if there was some sort of requisite time frame to adhere to before initiating, uh, well.... More intimate contact, but either Ray isn't aware of such social mores or more likely, simply refuses to acknowledge them. I realize that it hardly matters in my case as Laura certainly appears to have no objection to an accelerated........schedule. Ray pulls his car into parking lot and we enter the station house together. Lieutenant Welsh spots us immediately and waves us over.

"Detective Vecchio. Constable Fraser. To what do we owe the pleasure?" I'm about to reply that I am here in a strictly unofficial capacity when Ray answers.

"Fraser was with me when the call came in, sir. He examined the crime scene and has made some preliminary observations. We get a search warrant for his place, yet? 'Cos Fraser here may have a few things for the guys to look for."

"Such as?" Lieutenant Welsh addresses me directly now.

"I believe her hands were bound with three quarter inch straps, cheaply tanned leather. The ligature may also have been leather."

"A belt maybe?" He offers.

"No, I don't believe so. This leather was thicker, something on the order of a dog leash or perhaps bridle leather. You see sir, belts are made of thin, stiff leather. The edges would have cut into her skin, but this leather was softer, more pliable."

"Ok, I'll get this out. The suspect is in Interview One, Detective."

Ray cocks his head at me.

"I'll be along shortly. I need to make a telephone call" I tell him.

"Ok, but make it quick. I wanna nail this guy" already Ray's eyes had taken on a menacing look.

"Understood." I go to Ray's desk, dialing Laura's number from memory. I ask to see her tonight, saying that I'm not free to talk to her now and that I would explain when I saw her tonight. I hang up and go immediately to the room where Ray has relieved the arresting officer. I move to stand quietly in the corner observing the suspect. In spite of the fact that he was caught in the act of abducting another woman, he is sure of himself, sure that there is little evidence to convict him. As I watch my friend interrogate this man, I find myself growing agitated. His eyes are small and cruel, his hands and fingernails dirty. While he admits nothing, his disdain for human life is evident. I close my eyes, remembering the pain and suffering etched on the woman's body, my own fears. Ray steps away from the man, looking at me in supplication. I calmly sit across from the table from this........man. I begin calmly, quietly as is my custom.

"I understand how quickly things can..........go wrong."

"You don't understand nuthin' " The man growled at me.

"Oh, but I do. You see a pretty woman, maybe ask her out for a drink. She accepts and you're having a nice time. You think that maybe she's fond of you, might like to........get to know you better, so you go someplace quiet, private. And then, what?"

"Nothin', just, just......nothin'"  but his protest is quieter, more
reserved, looking almost.......hurt. 

"Did she laugh at you?" I ask quietly. "Make fun of you? Humiliate you?" He says nothing, but his eyes are wide, I'm getting to the truth of the matter.

"So what was it? What did she say that made you so angry?" My voice is louder now, anger building within me.

"Tell me. What did she say, what did she do, sir, that caused you to tie her up and abuse her. Rape her!" On my final words I jump out of my seat, simultaneously slamming the palm of my hand down on the table in front of him. The loud noise causes not only the suspect, but Ray to jump in surprise. Ray's immediately at my side, tugging at my arm, leading me out of the room.

"She was just a dirty whore! Just a whore, but she thought she was so much better than me! Man, she was nothin', but she wouldn't put out for me!" the man is screaming his confession, but rather than relief, I want to do him physical harm.

"Okay, Benny, come on" Ray soothes, pulling me out of the room. I drop my head, leaning against the wall outside the interrogation room.

"I'm sorry Ray, I just........."

"S'okay, don't sweat it." I look up at him, smiling calmly at me.

"Hey, we got a confession didn't we? You all right?" Concern in his eyes, "You're really wound up, Fraser, and that ain't like you."

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Perhaps it would be best if I, uh........" I wave towards the door.

"Got laid." Ray whispers quietly. I can feel my eyebrows creeping up my forehead, my mouth opening in shock. His head still near mine, "You think I don't recognise the signs?"

"Beat it. Here." He hands me the keys to his Riviera "But one thing."

"Yes, Ray?" He leans close to my ear once more.

"No doing the horizontal bop in the Riv." I pull away and look at him, puzzled.

"Horiz......"  I suddenly understand his meaning, "Oh, Ray, no.  That's
not......." 

Ray laughs at my reaction "Go. Scram. Before Welsh shows up."

"Thank you, Ray." And I'm out the door and in the car. I carefully review the fundamentals of driving before starting it and leaving the parking lot. I stop at the nearest supermarket, go directly to the......uh, personal care section and am astounded by the selection of brands. One package catches my eye 'Lucky 13'. Hmm. Interesting how they have associated the traditionally unlucky number 13 with the word. I drop the box in my basket and move on to collect a few other things that are strictly not necessary. I realize it is a silly ruse, but continue anyway. After paying for my purchases, I go to my apartment and change into casual clothes. I look around my apartment nervously. I hope I haven't misread Laura, or that I'll disappoint her. I take my Hudson Bay blanket off my bed and signal Diefenbaker to follow me, making my way out to the car. I stow the blanket in the trunk along with my superfluous purchases, taking a moment to put several of the condoms in my pocket. Will Laura think me presumptuous? Or merely prepared. I shake my head, trying to dispel my doubts and go to her apartment, Diefenbaker dogs my steps. I knock on her door and she answers. Relief almost overwhelms me at the confirmation that she is safe, unharmed. Before she can even say hello, I've swept her into my arms, holding her close, smelling the clean scent of her hair.

"Ben! I'm glad to see you too." Her words muffled against my chest. I release her, holding her at arms length.

"Laura. I, uh, well, needed to see you." I really don't want to explain the event that has brought me to her door. It is enough, for now, that she is here. "Will you come with me? I want to, um, take you somewhere."

"Ben, are you alright? You seem upset." She reaches out to me in concern.

"Yes, I believe so. Will you come?"

"Of course. Do I look ok?" I take in her appearance. She's wearing a tan skirt that falls to her calves and a blue sleeveless blouse, her hair loose and slightly mussed.

"You look wonderful. Come on." I take her hand, fairly dragging her from her apartment, barely giving her time to lock her door.

I put her into the car, Diefenbaker in the back and head for the park outside the city where I have occasionally taken Dief for training. The air cools and clears as Chicago recedes behind us. Laura doesn't attempt to engage me in conversation, assuming correctly that I'm not in a particularly talkative mood just now. I reflect on the fact that many would find my actions macabre. My overwhelming need to make love to her somehow triggered by the death of another young woman. It doesn't feel macabre, though. It feels to me more like a .......talisman against death. Celebrating life in the face of it. The unending cycle of life, death and rebirth. Well, metaphorically anyway as I have my own talisman against the possibility of conception in my pocket. I keep to the maximum legal speed limit to the park. We arrive and I search for the most secluded area possible. I find a wooded area and pull the Riviera onto the shoulder, switching it off.

"Laura, I, uh......"

"Ben, hush." Her lips on mine, gentle, quieting the storm within me. "Tell me later, okay?"

"Mm-hmm." I break off the kiss, opening my door, getting my blanket from the trunk then letting both her and Diefenbaker out. I take her hand and the three of us walk into the trees in the dusk. We walk approximately 524 meters, out of sight and sound of the road, underbrush rising to screen us, grass under our feet, lush and green. Unrolling the blanket, I give Diefenbaker a simple command, in Inuit and he bounds out of sight.

"What did you tell him?"

"I asked him to guard our perimeter" I wind my hands tightly into her hair.

"Really? In what language?" She asks, one hand on my chest, the other on the back of my neck.

"Inuit. It's an easier language for him read." I've lowered my head to her neck, inhaling her scent.

"Read?"

"Yes, he's deaf." She pulls back, looking into my eyes and sees no jest there.

"Oh." Is all she says as I lower my mouth to hers.

We're almost shy with one another, now that the time for greater intimacy has come, our kisses gentle, tentative. I drag my tongue across her lower lip and she shudders and sighs, a sound I feel rather than hear. She opens her mouth and I venture deeper, encountering her teeth and tongue. She closes her front teeth gently and traps me there, gently suckling. A wave of heat rolls through me like thunder and I lower us to the blanket. She lies quietly as I kiss her, then pushes me over onto my back, exploring my mouth slowly at first, a low moan escaping me. She draws my lower lip into her mouth, holds it with her teeth and strokes it with her tongue, before moving her mouth to my neck. She alternates feather light kisses with gentle bites and I feel myself stiffen in response. She slows her attentions and reclines beside me. I roll onto my side and place my hand on her blouse, wordlessly asking permission. She makes no protest as I begin unbuttoning it, pushing it off her shoulders and arms, then beginning at her ear, drag my tongue and teeth down to the muscle of her neck, while I unfasten the back of her bra. Her reaction is profound, a gasping little cry escaping her, her body arching towards mine. I release her neck and she lies back, breath uneven as I lift her bra away. I gaze at her in the twilight, her nipples tightening in the cooling air. She reaches for my shirt, and I pull it and my undershirt off over my head as I lie down beside her. She seems unconcerned at being disrobed in the open like this. I put my hand on her stomach and I feel her muscles clench briefly before I bring my hand up to cup one breast. I watch her face closely as I stroke the soft skin of the underside then drag my thumb over her nipple, her eyes closing on a sigh. She turns to face me then and puts her arm around me, stroking my back, pulling me to her. I claim her mouth again as I roll onto my back, bringing her with me. She adjusts her skirt allowing her legs to fall on either side of mine, draws her knees up to sit astride me, her heat meeting mine through our clothing, then lowers her head to my chest. She lavishes kisses and nips across me and I hear an "Oh, god" escape me. She leans back and my hands go to her skirt and begin to unbutton it. She loses patience after four and rocking back and forth on her knees, gathers it up and pulls it over her head along with her slip, her undulations sending even more blood rushing to my already aroused penis. My need ratchets even higher as she raises her arms, fanning her hair over her shoulders, rolling her head ,reveling in the play of it over her heated skin. She answers my involuntary thrust by pressing down against me. I fondle her breasts again with both hands as I feel my control beginning to slip. She seems to sense this, sliding a bit further down my hips and putting her hands on my belt buckle, searching my eyes for permission. I say "yes" in a quiet, choked voice I hardly recognize as my own and she unfastens it and the button, drawing the zipper down slowly. Then she rests her hand on my abdomen, her fingers spontaneously flexing. She moves off me and lies on her side, her head propped on her other hand, looking into my eyes for a moment before leaning over to kiss me again, her mouth soft and hard at the same time. I match her intensity, our tongues sparring, before catching her teeth with mine, locking us together. I need for her to touch me, to feel my need for herself and I take her hand in mine and drag it down into my jeans, over my shorts. I feel her measure the length and breadth of me and I break my hold on her mouth, sucking in air at the intensity of her touch. I feel the animal within me rise and sit up to untie and remove my boots and socks, pushing off my jeans and shorts. With a hand on her shoulder I push her onto her back, then draw her underwear down her legs. I take a moment to look at her pale body in the moonlight, a slight breeze caressing my body. I lower my head to her breasts and taste them with my mouth, my teeth, my hands lightly stroking her skin and eventually finding their way to her sex. She raises her knee to allow me better access. I need to check her readiness as I don't want to hurt her in my ardor. I know that once I begin, there will be very little control left to me, need, want and desire singing in my veins already. I watch her face as I part her, finding her already wet and slick. She bites her lower lip as if to stifle an utterance.

"No, don't, I want to hear you." I say, my voice rough. She looks at me and smiles as I use my hand to bring her closer to release. She sighs and moans, her eyes on mine and reaches her hand between my legs, taking my testicles into her hand, rolling and stroking them. Some part of my control snaps and I cry out, wordlessly. It's as if I can feel her pleasure and mine at the same moment. She leaves my testicles and takes my rigid flesh into her hand now, gently squeezing at the base, then slow strokes, until I grab her hand to stop her.

"No. Please. I'm too......" She understands and takes her hand away

I am far too close now, my control tenuous. I reach over her taking a condom from my pocket and look at her again in the gentle moonlight, her eyes large and dark. She takes it from me, and tears open the packet and applies it to me with sure hands. I move over her, framing her head with my arms, her hand reaching between us to guide me. I feel the wildness, the animal within me now, craving release.

"Laura..... I don't want to hurt you." I say breathlessly.

"Don't worry, Ben, you won't...." her words end on a gasping cry as I slide into her, more deeply than I had intended. For a brief moment I'm afraid I have hurt her, but I feel her muscles tighten convulsively around me and recognize the beginning of her release. I draw out and slide back into her completely this time, her legs wrapping around my hips.

"Oh, god,..... Oh, god, you feel good" she whispers as I deliver another stroke, then two, and her voice dissolves into a series of moans and gasps as she reaches completion, her body straining against mine. I stop moving, every nerve of my being concentrated on the contractions pulling at me, bright pulses cascading through me like heat lightning. I hold her, quiescent, as she returns, smiling at me. I let go the remaining reins of control as I put my arms under her legs, lifting them, catching her wrists at her sides with my hands, letting my passion run free. Driving, plunging forward, my groans answered by her own. I feel her urging me on, meeting me. I hear her telling me to let go, my voice rising in crescendo as I find my own release, a virtual lightstorm behind my eyes. I return, panting, letting go her wrists so she can drop her legs, her arms reaching around me to hold me tight, both of us shuddering with aftershocks.

"I must be crushing you" I say a short time later, moving off of her and discarding the condom.

"Not really. Ben, that was....um, god, I can't think." She laughs quietly as I pull her to me again, settling her against my chest.

"I understand. I, too, am having some difficulty.......with words." I reply, not trying to organize my thoughts, knowing they'll reorder themselves before long. She is warm and soft against me, her hands tracing patterns on my chest. A night breeze washes over us, cooling our skin. Finding her voice again, Laura asks me what prompted me to bring her here and I tell her about the unfortunate dead woman and her killer. I confess my need to reaffirm life with her. I tell her that the experience

has been.......remarkable, I feel renewed.  Her leg is thrown over mine,
her thigh over my groin and I feel myself beginning to .......stir, again.

"Um, Ben, part of you seems to want a.....a repeat performance." She chuckles.

"Well, I think that uh....while the spirit is willing, the, er......flesh
is........weak"  I reply, referring to my only partially turgid state.

"I think I could....... well, maybe accelerate things a bit." Her voice low as she moves over me, stroking and kissing her way down my body.

"Oh! I, um, don't.....wouldn't want you to......Oh! Dear!" She takes me into her mouth and my universe contracts to that single contact point. It takes me a moment to gather the strength to put my hand on her face and guide her away from me.

"Laura, I don't want you to.....well, I mean, that's very, uh, pleasurable,
but I don't want you to.......demean yourself."  I look into her eyes,

her pupils dilated with desire.

"You think this is demeaning?" She asks, concern on her face.

"Well, not necessarily. I suppose it depends on one's........perspective" I prop my head on my arm, behind my head, my free hand stroking her face and hair.

"Quite right." She drops her head again and I watch as she licks at me, the combination of visual and sensory input wringing a moan from me.

"I find it very......powerful" she takes the tip into her mouth, sucks gently and I feel the rush of blood swelling me again.

"to feel you.......responding to me" her hand grasps me at the base, steadying me as she drags her tongue up my length.

"knowing that.....I'm......responsible.....for your.........pleasure" Her mouth descends again, her teeth gently closing on the shaft. I suck in a deep breath, clenching my teeth, then release it on a long moan as she slowly pulls away. I wind my hand in her hair, gently tugging her up to my mouth, tasting myself on her lips. She throws her leg over me and sits astride me again, soft and wet on my lower belly.

"You have more?" She asks as I suck on her nipple.

"Hmmm? More?"

"Condoms." She simultaneously giggles and gasps while I fumble to get another. She takes it from me and I move to roll her over.

"Not yet. I want to......" but she stops my motion with her hands on my shoulders, pinning me to the blanket. "taste you." I finish.

She shakes her head negatively. "Thank you, Ben, but just not.....now."

"Why not?" I ask, surprised at her reticence.

She slides down, straddling my thighs and stroking me, unrolls the condom. "Because.....right now....I want you........inside me." My hands on her hips, she regains her position, then descends, taking me in. She leans over me, her breasts grazing my chest and begins to move slowly on me, rotating her hips a little with each cycle. I feel the tension building within her, taut and hot. I push her upright, continuing her rise and fall and place my hand at the point where we are joined, my thumb stroking her softly in the same rhythm. Her pace quickens, punctuated with moans and whimpers and I feel her pleasure flowing through me in response. This time I'm better able to watch her, the sight of her riding me incredibly erotic. She seems to sense my reaction and changes her angle, taking me only shallowly, making us both breathless, ever closer to the end. With what sounds surprisingly like a snarl, I feel her clench around me and she drops down on me, repeatedly, hard and fast, her own beast released. Awash in the echoes of her orgasm, I put my hands on her hips, driving into her from below, my breath coming in sharp gasps, until I follow her. She rocks on me until the spasms pass, then drapes herself over my chest as our respiration returns to normal. A pleasant tingling hum courses through me, incandescent in the darkness. I suspect it's the result of all my nerve synapses firing at once. My vision clears and I see the Great Bear in the stars above. I entertain the notion that he's pleased, then smile at the thought that perhaps she is pleased. I feel Laura moving off me, disposing of the condom, curling around me again. Physical and emotional contentment lull me into a doze, Laura's slow even breaths tickling my chest. When next I open my eyes, Great Bear is gone.

"Laura. Laura. Wake up."

"Mmm. Ben." Her voice thick and slow.

"Come on, we need to get back." I tell her, sorting out our clothing.

"Hmmm, yeah, ok." She agrees, dressing. I find the used condoms and fold them into my handkerchief. Laura picks up the blanket and wraps it around her.

"Are you cold?

"Just a little chilled, I think." I put my arms around her, holding her close, then lead us back to the car, Diefenbaker joining us and nuzzling my hand. I drive back to the city at a leisurely pace, Laura dozing beside me, until I park the car in front of our buildings. I walk Laura to her apartment, declining her invitation to share her bed.

"Thank you, but no. I have to get up early and return the car."

"Oh, okay. Ben, you were, are....incredible...I, um...." I feel an easy smile cross my face

"As are you, Laura. Thank you, for......well, everything. I'll see you later?"

"Oh yeah. You'd better." She kisses me goodnight and I let her go, hearing her lock the door.

I gather my things and go to my own apartment. I undress and fall into bed, gaining a few hours of restful sleep. When I do awake, I find I feel better than I have in months. Well, discounting the slight twinge in my lower back. I bathe and dress quickly, eager to return Ray's car. He's at the precinct house, finishing up the paperwork on the murder. As I give him the keys, he looks at me appraisingly.

"Geez Benny, guess I don't have to ask how it went." He grins at me. I just smile back, not wanting to elaborate.

"How 'bout we get some breakfast. You hungry?"

"Starving."

"'Thought so. C'mon, let's get outta here."

Ray drives us to a diner and I manage to avoid his subtle questions and innuendo over our meal. I find I welcome his good natured teasing as I assure him that we did not do the "horizontal bop" as he refers to it, in his beloved automobile.

"Ray, while I'm quite sure it's physically possible to do that in a car, I don't see why anyone would want to."

"I guess it's an American thing, Benny. Every teenage boy's dream, makin' it with the prom queen in the back seat of his car."

"Aaaaah."

"What aaaah! So what kinda thing do teenage boys dream about up in the Yukon? Huh?"

"Well, personally, I don't recall any specific sort of thoughts, more of a general curiosity, I guess."

"So no fantasies of doin' it on a snowmobile or dogsled, anything like that?"

"No, Ray, both activities would be extremely hazardous to one's well-being. Hardly the material for fantasy." I see disappointment on his face.

"Surviving the environment tends to be the overriding concern, but I do remember once in high school there was a girl. Sometimes I used to think about her as I fell asleep, what it would feel like to be wrapped up in furs with her, a storm raging around us."

"You ever get to, you know, put that into practice?"

"Did you ever get the prom queen in the back of your car?"

"Hell, no" he laughs, "I didn't even have the car!" I laugh with him.

We return to the station and I assist him in filing his reports. It's late afternoon when he takes me home. As I get out of the car, he stops me.

"Hey Benny."

"Yeah."

"I'm, uh, really glad for you. Jealous, but glad. You deserve a break."

"Thank you Ray. I'll talk to you later, all right?"

"Sure thing." He pulls away and I go to my apartment, get Diefenbaker and leave again. We walk through the streets until I come to a flower shop and I ask the proprietor if he may enter with me. She agrees and he helps me select an arrangement. I had thought to get Laura roses, but Diefenbaker disagrees, finding them ostentatious and monochromatic.

"As if you can see color." I chide him, though I find I do agree with him. I pay for my purchase and we walk back the way we came, passing my apartment building, proceeding directly to Laura's. I knock on her door and she takes a few moments to answer. When she does, she seems pleased to see me.

"Ben! What a surprise" then quietly "I was, uh, thinking of you. Come in." She's wearing only a bathrobe, her hair drying on her shoulders. I enter her apartment, handing the flowers to her.

"I thought um, well, in light, of last evening, that...well, I wanted to show my appreciation." She looks at me curiously.

"Thank you, Ben.  They're beautiful.  But the pleasure was......um, well,
it wasn't all mine, but I believe it was very.......mutual"  I realize

she's blushing, her face flushed. I reach out and stroke it.

"Yes. Yes, it was." We go to the kitchen, putting the flowers into a vase and I follow her to the living room, sitting on her sofa. We sit quietly for a moment until she reaches for me, pulling me close, kissing me. Regardless of the intimacy we have shared so recently, I still feel overwhelmed at the feel of her mouth, though some of the urgency has subsided. Confidence in what is to come makes us languid in our explorations. We taste each other's fingers and I slide my hand into her robe, stroking her already hardened nipple with my wet fingers. She breathes in through her teeth, the sound much like drops of water sizzling on hot metal. I trail my hand down, untie her robe and stroke her to completion, smothering her cries with my mouth. She finally gets up, stripping off my shirt and leads me to her bedroom. I cast a glance at my dark apartment, knowing it's empty, Diefenbaker taking our place on her sofa. She drops her robe in the darkness, turning on the light next to her bed. Taking her in my arms I lower her to the bed and remove my boots and clothing as she watches, her eyes following my movements. I cover her body with mine and starting with her breasts, descend her body, using my tongue and teeth to arouse her. I arrive at the juncture of her legs and look for distress in her eyes. Finding none, I inhale her scent, rich and warm, and feeling a surge in my groin, drop my head and taste her.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A knock resounds through the empty apartment. After a moment, a man enters.

"Benny, you here?" he asks quietly. There's no answer. He walks through the small rooms as if to see if the occupant is hiding. As he passes the dining area window, he hears a cry. He instinctively looks for the source of the sound, years as a police officer alerting him. In a lighted window across the narrow alley, one floor below a man has his head buried between a woman's thighs and he hears her cry out again, her hands clutching at his head.

"Geez, I guess everybody's gettin' laid these days. Everybody but me." He watches for a moment and the man, having apparently achieved his goal straightens, his erection standing out from his body.

"Oh my god, oh my god" he says as he recognizes the man. He looks quickly away as the man joins her on the bed, then back again. He's holding the woman close, speaking to her in low tones. She answers him, hands him something from the bedside and rolls over onto her hands and knees. After a moment he kneels behind her on the bed, but they are too disparate in height to make the proper connection.

"Glad to see you're taking precautions Benny." The man whispers to himself.

Curious as to how they will resolve the disparity, he watches them as Ben backs off the bed and stands at the foot. He pulls the woman towards him by her hips, enters her, then stretches his arms over her back to her shoulders. Ray Vecchio feels himself grow hard at the graphic scene before him. He knows he should turn away, let his friend seek his pleasure in privacy, but this is so profoundly different from the man he knows. The man is stationary, the woman moving back and forth on his length as she begins to come. Ben winds his hands in her hair, driving hard and deep, her cries becoming more guttural. Ray can't believe this is the same man he knows. The man who's so straight and conventional, so uneasy around women, frightened almost by them. Of course, he thinks, this is the same man so in touch with nature that his best friend is a wolf, at least until recently. Ray snorts as he observes that he must have taken a page from Dief's book, considering his current position. Ben's thrusts are more hurried now, gasping moans escaping him as he comes, the woman rocking against him intensifying his climax. He collapses against her back and Ray falls into a chair. *No wonder he looked so happy* he thinks reflecting on breakfast. Ray glances back at the exhausted couple, entwined on the bed as he gets up from the table. Not entirely sure what he's going to do about his current condition, he leaves the apartment, pulling the door closed behind him.