Benny & Ray 67 Adieu Dee Gilles Rated R

Benton Fraser and Francesca Vecchio touched down at Ottawa International Airport at 3:20 p.m. on Saturday. It was 29 and snowing lightly.

Francesca looked over at Ben, wondering what he could be feeling right now. If it were her, retiring after working some place for twenty years, she'd be feeling pretty scared. But she was pretty sure that Mounties weren't scared of anything.

Ben caught her eye as he turned to face the window, to watch the snowy landscape taxi by them. He smiled an uncertain smile. Okay, so maybe Mounties did get scared, she thought. Well, soon-to-be-ex-Mounties anyway. Fran reached out and took his hand.

She shouldn't even be here, she guiltily thought. Ray should have been here with Benton, to see him get his medal for long service and good conduct, his last official act as a member of the RCMP.

But Ray was too sick right now. He finally had to stop working, and was on medical leave. The chemo was doing a hell of a number on him. He was anemic, exhausted, and now he had a severe cold on top of everything else. Little Marissa had given him the cold she had picked up from daycare, and it had settled down deep into Ray's lungs for the long haul, his immune system weakened from the barrage of chemotherapy drugs.

Ben hadn't wanted to come to Ottawa at all, not without Ray. But Ray had insisted. And Francesca had to admit privately that she thought Benton could use a break away from Ray and sickness. They all could.

Everybody had been so stressed about everything lately. Ben was busy with school, Ray's illness, meetings, and familiarizing his replacement with the workings of the office. Granted, he hadn't needed to hold the hand of his replacement, as the woman had more than a passing familiarity with the office. Nevertheless, a lot had changed since Ben started eight years ago, so some time together was necessary.

Ben's replacement was none other than Lee Ann Brighton, Consul-- the same woman whom he had displaced as Deputy Liaison Officer upon his transfer to Chicago. Brighton had departed Chicago after Ben had returned, banished from Canada, after "Damgate"; there was no point in her continuing on in a dead-end job, so she'd asked Inspector Moffat for a transfer, and he had granted it without hesitation. She had moved on to the Canadian Embassy in fast-paced Washington D.C., and had excelled there. She had risen quickly through the ranks, thanks to a wonderful mentor, and had leapt at the chance to return to Chicago as Consul, head held high. Thankfully, she harbored no ill feelings toward Ben.

It had been a stressful time for Ray as well. Due to his weakening condition, Ray had been forced to go on full-time medical leave; he was devastated, and scared that it was the beginning of the end for him, despite Dr. Taddeo's reassurances that his body was responding well to R+CHOP chemotherapy regimen.

It had been hard for Ray to let go of his law enforcement duties. Ray "checked in" for the first three days, until Lt. Welsh took the phone from Micky and gently asked Ray not to call in anymore. "Don't worry," Welsh had said. "We have everything under control here, and we'll see you when you get back."

Ray had to empty his cubicle of personal effects and turn over his laptop to Mick's new partner. Ironically, it was the same detective, Stan Kowalski, that Ray had gotten into a bar fight with about four years ago. It was after Francesca had opened up her big mouth yet again and outed her brother at the station. Word spread like wildfire throughout every precinct of the CPD.

Ray and Stan had a run-in at Finnegan's Pub the day Ray tried to drown himself in a bottle of scotch. The blond cop had called Ray a `fucking fag', and Ray had torn the place apart going after the guy.

And now the man was Micky's partner, and it wasn't sitting well with Ray, Micky, or even Ben for that matter. But there was nothing anybody could do about it. Kowalski was available on short notice. So he got the job. Ray and Stan, begrudgingly, had agreed to let bygones be bygones.

Fran and Ben debarked from the plane a few minutes after it came to a halt and attached itself to the Jetway. Ben had only his old canvas knapsack and a garment bag that contained his red serge uniform. He waited patiently while Fran retrieved her two large pieces of luggage from the baggage claim carousel. He placed a call to Ray to let him know they had arrived safely.

Fran and Ben were met curbside by a car, courtesy Staff Sgt. Major Charlie Meers. Meers had looked after all of Ben's travel and lodging arrangements personally, and had even gotten the RCMP to front some money for meals while in the city. It was the least he could do after the unfairness with which the RCMP had treated him after Damgate. Ben shouldn't have been cast out as a pariah; he should have been lauded as a hero for his actions.

The driver efficiently delivered them to the front door of the elegant Lord Elgin Hotel minutes later. He and Francesca were both duly impressed with the accommodations.

VVVVVV

It had been a teary final day for Ben. They had had something of an open house all week at the Consulate, culminating in a farewell party for Ben at five o'clock on Friday. The word had gotten out. There had been a one paragraph write-up in the Chicago Guardian, announcing the retirement of the Mountie who had once saved Chicago from certain nuclear Armageddon.

People that he had not seen in years either called or stopped in during his final week to wish him well. Mr. Pianpiano from Ben's old St. John Street apartment dropped by Thursday morning, along with his old neighbor `H'. Jill Kennedy called on Wednesday and Sister Anne on Tuesday to wish him well. Stephanie Cabot sent flowers and a card. Ben was touched. Somehow, the word had even gotten back to Mark Smithbauer, who now lived in St. Paul, Minnesota, and coached youth hockey there. The two of them had talked for an hour early Tuesday evening, reminiscing and catching up.

Willie Lambert, now twenty-one and a senior at DePaul, stopped in Friday around noon and they chatted for half an hour. Willie, William now, thanked him profusely for intervening on that fateful day he snatched that poor old lady's purse. It had been a turning point for him. William was starting Law School in the fall, and hoped to specialize in family law one day. Ben had walked William to the door upon his departure, and they shook hands--two men of equal height, smiling into one another's eyes.

The retirement party dinner was catered by Mr. Lee, who personally served the guests. Francesca had kicked in for the champagne, and Ma had brought Italian desserts and gelato. It was her first visit to the consulate in all the years Ben had worked there. Maria and Tony joined her, along with David and Raphy, Donny, and Marissa. Marissa alternated between running and pulling books off shelves and sitting in her Uncle Benny's lap as he entertained his guests.

A few of the kids from Ben's South Side community outreach program also showed up, accompanied by a volunteer chaperone. The younger kids presented him with drawings. One of the boys drew a picture of Ben in his red serge, on a horse, not unlike Ben had done for his father three decades ago. That's when the water works started. Ben had given the little boy a hug, sniffling.

Turnbull and Mac both gave tearful speeches about the joy of working with Constable Benton Fraser, how he was one- of-a-kind, so honorable, decent, and good. Turnbull, grief-stricken, suddenly threw his arms around Ben with a cry, catching him off guard. Thrown off balance, Ben lurched backwards and the two men tumbled to the floor, Turnbull on top. Ben went down with a sharp oof! They were quickly joined by a weeping Chick, and then a sobbing Melissa. Ben wasn't sure why Francesca threw herself on the dog pile, too; they were seeing each other tomorrow.

Finally, having seen his last guest to the door, the time came for Ben to depart. Brighton and staff escorted him and his family to the door. They sent him off with a salute and a standing ovation.

VVVVVV

Francesca had never been to Canada, except for a senior class trip to Montreal, so she had wanted to tag along with Ben and Ray and make a weekend of it. After he got sick, Ray had insisted that the two of them go on without him. Ray told Fran there was no reason that she couldn't still go just because he wasn't. "Go ahead with Benny, Frannie." Ray had said. "You can't get into too much trouble with him around."

So the two of them had set out on a little adventure together. Ben enjoyed being a tourist in his own country. Truth be told, he wasn't all that familiar with the city, as he had always been on official business the few times he had been called to Ottawa, so much of the city and its attractions were as new to him as they were to Francesca.

He accompanied her on a shopping trip to the L'Esplanade Laurier and the Sparks Street Mall. Fran bought herself clothing, French perfume and soap, and several pairs of shoes. Ben indulged for once, and bought himself a new cable-knit sweater to replace the one that Ray had forced him to throw out last year because it was in tatters. Thinking of Ray with a smile, Ben also bought him two knit caps and an "I ? CANADA" sweatshirt, chuckling, doubting if Ray would even wear the sweatshirt outside the house.

Ben escorted Fran to a dinner at a popular pub called the Lieutenant's Pump for steak, ribs and beer. The day spent with Francesca was a revelation to Ben. He'd never been alone with Fran for an extended period of time in all the while that they'd known each other. There hadn't been a trace of sexual tension between them in a long time, although on occasion Fran did like to tease him just a bit. But Ben knew it was just that, and she'd never step over a certain line anymore. He couldn't help but contrast this pleasant, entertaining dinner with the strained, uncomfortable dinner he had once shared with her--that night years ago when she had "moved in" with him because Carver was targeting the Vecchio household.

Fran had actually been funny throughout the course of the day, sometimes even witty. Ben realized that some of her silliness was just a put-on, an act she had adopted, because "everybody knew," she had told Ben, "that men weren't turned on by smart girls." He went to bed that night with a new understanding of Francesca.

Ben called Ray as soon as he got settled in his hotel room. They talked about nothing of importance for a few minutes, Ben touching himself, hearing the sound of his lover's voice. But Ray wasn't up for phone sex tonight. He sounded extremely congested, breathing a bit labored. Ben didn't keep him on the phone long; Ray needed to sleep.

Ben lay on his back for long moments, tired but unable to sleep. He sighed and turned on his stomach, and then turned again to his back after several minutes. His slipped his hand into his shorts, cupping his half-tumescence. It filled out with a few strokes of his hand.

Ben had to admit that he was horny. He and Ray hadn't done it since Valentine's Day last month, and although he knew it wasn't really Ray's fault, he was frustrated at his lover's lack of sexual appetite lately. Ben sighed again, resigned. He then grabbed a handful of tissue from the bedside table and perfunctorily offed himself, coming with a low groan after several minutes. He sighed with relief, and cleaned himself up.

Ben fell asleep with Ray on his mind.

VVVVVV

Ben and Fran attended Sunday Mass at the Notre Dame Basilica. Ben admired its beautiful, majestic interior, as did Francesca. They went for a stroll, as cold as it was, right after the mass. Ben seemed preoccupied.

"What is it?" Francesca asked, after Ben had been silent for several minutes.

Ben shook his head. "I was just thinking about how different my life was the last time I was in this city. My father only recently murdered and his best friend indicted for conspiracy to commit murder. I was...kicked out of my homeland. It was the lowest point of my life. I couldn't have imagined what that event would lead me to. And here I am, returned as both an American citizen and a Catholic."

Francesca watched a smile flit across Ben's face as he remembered.

"As soon as I landed at O'Hare that second time, I called Ray, and let him know I was back in Chicago. He had left one of his shirts at my dad's cabin, and I wore it back. It smelled like his cologne." Ben's smile widened at the memory.

"You loved him even then, didn't you?" Francesca asked.

"Yeah, even then. Once I accepted the idea that I was going to be in Chicago long-term, I couldn't wait to see him again. I wasn't afraid to leave Canada, because I had a friend in Chicago waiting for me, and it made all the difference."

Francesca sighed, wishing she was in love like that, and took Benton's elbow as they strolled along MacKenzie Avenue. They walked in silence for a while. "So what should we do this afternoon?"

A very boyish grin lit Ben's face. "Would you care to go ice skating?"

"Oh my God, I haven't been ice skating since I was eighteen! I don't think I know how anymore."

"It's just like riding a bike, Francesca."

Fran threw caution to the wind. "Oh, alright, why the hell not?"

VVVVVV

They found a little kiosk near the Rideau Canal that rented ice skates and the day passed quickly. The weather warmed to forty degrees, and the gray morning sky yielded to full sun. Francesca fell several times when starting out, but Ben was there to catch her every time, ever the gallant hero.

Ben bought himself and her "Beaver Tails", a sugary dough confection that had them both licking their fingers.

"Why Benton Fraser, I've never seen you eat junk food before," she spoke around a mouthful. "Have we corrupted you?"

Ben shrugged it off, "When in Rome..." he said only. They both wolfed their treats down, grinning at one another. Benton felt like a child, in a way he never had, even as a child.

Ben noticed, perhaps for the first time, what a beautiful woman Francesca was. She had large liquid eyes.

"What?" she asked, patiently, looking at him with affection and Ben suddenly saw a future of possibilities in her eyes.

There were thoughts that he had only half-formed, half considered, lying awake at night next to Ray, and all of a sudden, they came sharply into focus, gazing down at Ray's little sister.

Years later, Benton would still never know what had gotten into him at that moment, whether it was the circumstance of his retirement, or if there was something in the Ottawa water, or maybe it was just the sugar rush from the Beaver Tail.

Staring into Francesca's doe eyes, and he blurted out a question, fueled by equal parts impulse, chutzpah, and intense curiosity as to what her reaction would be.

After the question escaped his lips in a rush, Francesca's big eyes got even bigger. For once, she had been rendered speechless.

VVVVVV

Francesca and Ben had moved off the ice, and now sat on an ice cold bench, drinking hot cocoa.

"Do you really think Ray will go for it?" Francesca asked.

"Perhaps. I just need the right time to ask him. And DON'T YOU SAY ANYTHING TO RAY about this. Not until I let you know we discussed it.

"Don't worry. My tattle-tale days are over, I swear to you."

Francesca suddenly giggled with sheer giddiness. "I can't believe this is happening!" She reached up and touched her flushed face, which was warm despite the cold temperatures.

Ben smiled in quiet joy. "We should be going," he said, glancing at his watch. "I told Sgt. Meers that we'd meet him at the restaurant at six, and I need go back to the hotel. I should call Ray also. Are you ready?"

"Yes, I am." Francesca said. The two of them skated back down the canal to return their rented skates, hand in gloved hand.

Ben Fraser thought it was the most comfortable he'd ever been with a woman in his entire life.

VVVVVV

Monday morning at RCMP headquarters, Francesca Vecchio watched Ben Fraser receive his medal for twenty year service, a medal for good conduct, and a handshake from each of the officiating RCMP top brass.

He signed his release paperwork, changed out of his uniform, and it was over. Constable Benton Fraser was now simply Benton Fraser, American civilian. Ben's eyes got watery as he bid his superiors adieu. Francesca put her arm around his waist as they excited the building, squeezing tight.

FINIS