In the darkened room, there was only the sound of rapid breathing. Then the bedding heaved as Ben sat up suddenly, a cold sweat beading his bare chest. The dream had been incredibly vivid... He leaned back against the wall, gasping for breath. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again for a while. Not after THAT dream!
Lingering images flitted across the back of his eyeballs... himself up a telephone pole in Canada, taking a very strange call from Ray... a small, slender, pale-faced man with a spiky punkish haircut. Ben frowned slightly. Everybody had been calling him Ray... pretending that he WAS Ray, even Francesca had been doing it.
A shudder rippled through him. That was another awful thing... Francesca, at the Precinct all the time! Hadn't she been doing Elaine's job, or something? As if anyone could replace Elaine!
Ben folded his arms across his chest, hugging himself protectively. He'd dreamt about the Riv being blown up again. Sometimes he thought he'd never stop having THAT nightmare... And hadn't the Vecchio house burnt down? Yes, it had! And his apartment! He'd been sleeping at the Consulate.
Oh, God... the Consulate... Meg, wanting him to father her child... and hadn't he almost fallen in love with some woman?
Yes, it was coming back now. A woman bounty hunter... How on earth could he have dreamed THAT? All right, he'd toyed with the idea of a romance with Meg, briefly, but it was just one of those minor aberrations. It would never have gone anywhere. Not after his one, disastrous, headlong plunge into heterosexuality with Victoria.
He still couldn't believe he'd let her wind him up so much that he'd thought he was straight for almost ten years. He never would have fallen for her in the first place if he hadn't been on the rebound from Steve... if Victoria ever turned up again, he'd just have to get Ray to shoot him straight away and save all that anguish.
The nightmare was fading now, but he could clearly remember that his own behaviour had been... well... rather strange... He'd actually HIT the imposter Ray, and he'd been rude to people. He'd even... Ben blushed vividly... talked about urinating. In public! And hadn't there been something about his father? He'd taken up residence in the closet at the Consulate... Ben cringed. All that banging...
He hadn't realised he was babbling aloud until a voice interrupted his thoughts...
"Benny, if there's any banging to be done, I'LL do it, OK?" he grinned evily. "Besides, your Dad's been dead for three years now."
Ben looked down with a sense of relief into his lover's sleepy face.
"Sorey, Ray. I didn't mean to wake you."
Ray pushed himself up on his elbow and looked up at Ben. "Another nightmare, Benny? You've been having them a lot lately."
"It was awful, Ray. I dreamt I fell in love with a woman bounty hunter." He hesitated suddenly, wondering if Ray might be sensitive on that issue, but Ray laughed.
"You Benny? Bless your bent little Canadian soul, that ain't EVER gonna happen again. I'm the one who's Bi, remember?" Ray's arm pulled him down and Ben wriggled happily against the warm, lean body, settling his head on Ray's shoulder.
Oh, I remember Ray... but you'd gone away and left me and I was lonely..." He forgot for a moment that it was only a dream and shivered. A faint trace of memory surfaced. Himself kissing the imposter Ray. He decided not to mention that to Ray... the REAL Ray... God, this was getting confusing!
Ray swore under his breath. "Benny, you have GOT to tell Meg not to send you off to Canada again without me. She knows the score. We're partners, right? We work as a team."
"Yes, Ray."
The long arm tightened around him and Ray's voice became drowsy. "Besides, you KNOW I'd never go off and leave you. Don't you, Benny?"
"Oh, yes Ray."
"Good" Ray's long fingers caressed his back lightly. "Ya gotta stop eating that tiramisu just before ya go to bed, Benny. That's why you keep having nightmares..."
Ben turned his head enought to kiss Ray's throat. He could have pointed out that the tiramisu had been fed to him, spoonful by loving spoonful, by Ray himself. But he didn't.
Silence descended on the apartment at 221 East Racine.