Disclaimer: If you sue me, I'll cry.

Author's Notes: I cheated a little bit and divided Part 4 into two sections. This is 4a

SequelTo: A to Z: In Sickness and Health Part 3

"Goddammit, when the shit hits the fan it really hits the fan." Benny says nothing. Just sits across from me quietly and holds my hand. He traces a pattern across my palm and over my wedding band with his forefinger. He looks up at me and his face in some way reflects my own anxiety, but he gives me a sweet smile and says "It'll be alright Ray."

My husband doesn't lie, but he has no way of knowing how this new wrinkle will iron out. I put down the glass of wine that I'm almost clutching. Quickly, I slip my hand around his neck, into his hair and pull him a little forward, across the top of the table. It's meant to be a quick, thank you, I love you kiss but immediately it starts to turn to something more intense.

Something that we should be doing in our bedroom, not in an airport lounge. And I'm not sure which one of us is doing it, which one of us kicked it up that notch. But...I can't do this here. I slip my hand from around his neck and back to the stem of my glass.

We don't do this. Public displays of affection. Part of it is the cop thing, part of it generational. I guess, some indoctrination is really hard to overcome. In the same way that illegality doesn't prevent people from committing crimes, this legality doesn't prevent people from displaying and sometimes exercising their bigotry.

And I'd just as soon not spend my time busting heads when I've got a niece or nephew by the hand.

Same sex marriage only became legal the year before we got married, so it's not like either of us grew up thinking that we could be like a married het couple. When we use to take the nieces and nephews to the Navy Pier, I'd see guys younger than Benny and me, in their twenties sometimes even younger than that, holding hands, making out likes it's nothing.

Sometimes they were just in each other's space in a way that makes their relationship obvious. Usually Benny and I would have a child between us, him holding one hand and me holding the other. And so in it's own way I guess it was obvious, but I can count the number of times I've kissed him or held his hand in public on one hand. And that would include our wedding day and here in this lounge.

Apparently I'm working on a triple play of things I don't do in public. The public displays of affection obviously, the profanity which he politely ignored, and the public drinking. Truth is I don't drink, not really, public or otherwise. And that's not Benny's influence. There was a time in the not so distant past that I thought if I started I would never be able to stop myself.

I'm so angry, so frustrated right now that I don't know what to do with myself. The wine was supposed to take the edge off. I don't think it's working.

I'm not going to Arizona with Benny. We will be on the same flight initially, but then I'm booked on a connecting flight to Los Angeles.

The 'red' phone rang an hour before we were supposed to leave for the airport. And it was bad. A joint operation in Southern California has gone seriously wrong. I've got a civilian, some teenage baseball phenom that may not walk again, in the hospital. And the involved officer, my officer, a twenty-something wants to eat her gun. I got a couple of people sitting on her at the safe house. I got a local counterpart at the hospital keeping me updated on the kid's condition until I can see what's what for myself. Our mark's in jail on attempted murder charges for what he did to the kid, almost beat him to death with a baseball bat. He'll probably want to plead, so we can get what we were after - the meth lab and the guns he was running through the high school. It's messy.

"I love you." My eyes flick to Benny's and he's got that sweet smile working overtime. The anxiety has been replaced with the tiniest trace of sadness.

"I love you too." And I fight down the urge to kiss him again. "This is not a good time for us to be separated, Benny."

"It will be alright Ray."

"Okay." I take another sip of my wine. It goes down like water.

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

Two days. I was in Los Angeles two days. The boy's still in a coma, but he's reacting to stimuli. The thinking now is that after extensive rehab he'll be able to walk again. I saw his stats. He was something else. I stopped at the hospital chapel and said a prayer for him.

My officer, that's still a mess. I took her statement, then after I shut off my mini recorder, and the other investigators left the room, I waited for her to say the things between the lines. Like how she let the ball player fall in love with her. Like how she might have feelings deeper than friendship for the boy. I think that she is only just now getting how deep those feelings might be. How that might have contributed to how things went down. I understand what she's going through - wrong feelings, for the wrong person, at the wrong time. Fortunately with Benny and me no one ended up battered or dead before we got our shit together. Sure I sort of have one less sibling now but that's a whole other story.

Her cover, teenage shooting victim looking for some protection, is still intact and we shouldn't have any trouble getting her out of California. That small amount of positive news means, I have some breathing room to be with my husband, at least for a day maybe two. Hopefully, by now Benny's already found out what's eatin' Kowalski or better yet who Kowalski's eatin' and he can come with me to Los Angeles if I have to go back. Or we can go home. I talked to him when I first got to L.A. and he'd just checked into the hotel. After he finished talking to me, he was going to see Stan. I could hear nervousness in his voice.

After that I was hip deep in damage control and have only had a chance to leave a couple of voice mail messages. He's sent a couple back to me that essentially mirrored mine with 'I love you, I'm fine.' Except...Christ. He didn't sound fine. The nervousness seemed to have morphed into something I couldn't put my finger on. I listened to the voicemail a coupla times. Sure I wanted to hear his voice, but I also was trying to pin down that thing I didn't recognize.

Leave it to Kowalski. He can't even have an uncomplicated tumble. I keep a low profile in official circles, so I mostly know Stella Kowalski by reputation. And from what I heard she was completely out of Kowalski's league. I guess you can't blame a guy for aiming high. Unless of course it gets my husband into trouble. I'll kill Kowalski if he's got Benny missed up in something dangerous.

Our suite is dark. Thank God, I changed our reservation. I think he had us booked into some kind of rent by the hour joint. I was supposed to take an earlier flight but since I stopped by the hospital to check on the kid I'm late. I move through the living room into the bedroom. Benny is sound asleep. Naked. Usually it's a white t-shirt and boxers, but not tonight. And that's all it takes for me to shake off the tiredness and the stress of the last two days. I quickly slip out of my linen jacket, loafers and quietly pad to his side.

"Hey Beautiful," I whisper as I lean over to kiss him slow and deep, the way I wanted to in the airport. My hand slides down his stomach and under the sheet. He stirs. "I couldn't stay awake."

"It's okay." My hand strokes between his legs.

"Ray." He pulls his mouth away and his hand slides under the sheet to cover mine. He stills the movement of my hand. That's not exactly the welcome I was expecting.

"Benny?" I stop but I don't move my hand. The fingers of my other hand run through his hair. "Tired?" I ask him. My eyes have adjusted a little to the dark, but I still can't really make out his features. I can hear the change in his breathing. It sounds like he's crying. I reach for the lamp on the nightstand and he grabs my wrist. Then he brings my other hand from between his legs, puts my hands together and kisses them.

"I'm sorry Ray." And he still sounds like he's crying so I free my hand and brush each of his cheeks but they're dry. Maybe it's jetlag freaking me out.

"Ray?"

"It's okay, baby." I kiss him again and get up. He grasps my hand. "Where are you going?"

"I'm just gonna take a quick shower, I'm still a little grimy from the plane."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I'll be right back."

I'm a little aroused, but it doesn't take me too long to take care of business. When I get back into the bedroom, Benny has drifted off to sleep again. I lay down beside him not bothering to pull the sheet over me.

I wrap my arms around him and mold my naked body to his. The feeling that something is really wrong comes back with a vengeance. When I wake up in the morning, Benny is already gone and there is a note. He's gone off somewhere with Kowalski and I can reach him on his cell. My cell starts ringing not long after that, and I'm on the phone until almost one in the afternoon.

I check my voicemail and Benny has left me another message. He and Kowalski are on the road. They're going to stop somewhere along the way to have lunch, then he's having dinner with the Kowalski's. So it looks like room service for me but that's okay I'm still up to my ears in Los Angeles. And tonight when Benny gets back from dinner, we'll get down to brass tacks about what's going on with Stanley Kowalski.

Except when he gets back at sometime roughly around one in the morning I'm sort of not in any condition to hear about Kowalski. I had room service send up a bottle of wine with my dinner. I've had more than I intended. When Benny finally walks through the door, I'm standing in the middle of the living room seriously considering redecorating the walls with the contents of my glass.

I don't know if he reads the intent but he takes the glass out of my hand and sets it on the coffee table. I let him and then I wait. I wait for him to tell me why we're in Arizona. How much longer we're gonna be in Arizona. How much longer he's gonna be in Arizona 'cause I don't have to be here. But he doesn't say anything, he wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly.

"We have to talk Benny."

"I know Ray, tomorrow. We will talk tomorrow." And he's shaking and his voice sounds like it did last night. Like he's crying. But I can see his face clearly now, like I couldn't last night. Although there are no tears, he looks like he's been through hell. There are tight lines around his mouth and eyes. "What the hell is going on?"

"Tomorrow, Ray please." If I was more together I would push the issue, but I'm too tired, too overwhelmed. And what difference could another day make.

"Okay, Benny tomorrow."

End Part 4