Needed     Needed

 by MR

  

 Author's Website: 

 Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were mine, they'd have a lot more fun

 Author's Notes: You should know the drill by now. My story, not beta'd,
so if you find a mistake, me bad.

 Story Notes: Stella's POV. If the idea of Ray and Stella having been
married bothers you, you'd best leave now.

 

 

 Needed
 By MR 

 It was the touching that gave it away. Because unless you knew Ray well,
you wouldn't even know what the touching meant. You'd just think it was
regular touching, buddy touching, the sort of thing guys do with other
guys. 

 Only I know what it means. Nearly 25 years with the same person gives you
that sort of perspective. Over half my life to this point. That's why I
know what it means. I've been there. 

 Twenty-five years. Seemed like forever there at the end. Like one of
those awful parties where you get stuck talking to the same person all
night and you can't get away no matter how hard you try. You can't breath,
and this other person's just sucking the life right out of you, and you
get so desperate that when someone offers you a way out you take it. You
don't worry about whether or not the way out is what you really want, you
just want out now. 

 Ray was always a toucher. From the very first day we ran into each other
in the hall at school and went down in a tangle of books and glasses, he
was right there, touching. Like it was something he needed to live, the
way other people have to breath air and drink water. 

 So I knew what it meant the first time I saw them together, leaning over
his desk, one hand on the Mounty's arm. Long elegant fingers against that
red serge, and I knew right then that any hopes I might've ever had of
reconciliation had just gone up in smoke. 

 Not that I ever really wanted reconciliation. It had become pretty clear
by the time we split up that being Mrs. Stanley Raymond Kowalski wasn't
going to further my career. 

 And I wanted that career so badly I could taste it. It was what I'd gone
through college for, what I'd spent my nights studying to obtain. 

 Funny how sometimes the end means more than what it took to get there,
though. 

 And we women are fickle. I may not have wanted him, but that didn't mean
anyone else could have him. I wanted him out of my life but still
available. I didn't want to sleep with him unless I wanted to. I wanted to
have sex when it was MY idea, not his. 

 But I didn't want him cramping my new sense of style, embarrassing me in
front of my friends. I didn't want him holding me back when it was clear I
could go so much further without him. 

 As one of the women I work with said at lunch one day, "We don't want a
man, we want a dog. Someone who'll protect us from danger and let us rub
his tummy when we're feeling playful, but if we want to be left alone
he'll have the sense to get out of the room." 

 What's so scary is that she's right. I didn't want a husband, but I
wanted all the advantages of having one. 

 All that changed, though, when I started watching him and the Mounty. Not
that I was spying on them or anything. I work with the D.A.'s office, we
deal with crime and criminals, you're going to run into cops. So maybe it
was a little coincidental that I kept running into THAT particular cop. I
never noticed anyone complaining. 

 Ray least of all. In the beginning, right after the break-up, I used to
come around just because I knew I could get him going. I'd appear in the
doorway, he'd see me, and he'd get that look in his eyes that told me I
was still #1 for him. It was a powerful feeling, to know you had that
affect on a man. To know he probably still dreamt about you, maybe hadn't
thrown away any of the stuff you left behind. 

 That look disappeared after he and the Mounty had been working together a
while. That's when I really started noticing the touching. And it
surprised me, because from what little I'd been able to from everyone else
at the 27th, the Mounty was kind of a cold fish. Certainly not the
touchy-feely type. And here he was, letting Ray touch him, and I swear to
God if you looked closely you could almost see him leaning into the
touches. Like he needed to feel them as bad as Ray needed to give them. 

 Need. With Ray and I, that's what it boiled down to. I didn't want to be
needed like that. Never mind that we'd been together since we were 12,
married for 20 years, and he'd always needed me. I didn't want it any
more. Let him be needy for someone else, if he could find them. 

 How could I have been so stupid to think he couldn't? That just because
we'd been together so long, I had some sort of lock on his affections? 

 Because what I didn't realize until after we were separated is that Ray
Kowalski is something of a rarity in this day and age. When he loves, he
loves completely. Wholeheartedly, devotedly...nothing's held back. Whoever
said romance was dead had obviously never meant Ray. Half the women and
men I work with had been through a couple of marriages and a dozen
dead-end relationships by the time they hit 30, and I was still married to
the same man I'd been dating since I was 13. Why didn't I see how precious
that was? Was I really that blinded by ambition? 

 Last night, I was leaving the precinct after meeting with a client,
walking across the parking lot to my car, and I almost passed right by
them. The lot's not that well lit, and they were leaning against the wall.
But there they were. Ray and his Mounty in a patented Kowalski lip lock. 

 And all I could do was stand there and stare. Because the look was so
familiar it made me ache. Ray loves him. And from the way the Mounty was
kissing back, I'd say the feeling is mutual. 

 They never even noticed me. I walked on over to my car, threw my
briefcase in, got in, started it...I was on autopilot. It's a wonder I
didn't hit someone backing out. 

 I could've had that for the rest of my life if I'd just been willing to
give a little. But I wouldn't. And now the Mounty's got it, and I don't
think he's quite as stupid as everyone at the 27th think he is. I've seen
the look in his eyes when he sees Ray. Like he's just won the Lottery.
Like Christmas morning, when you find out Santa's left you exactly what
you wanted. 

 Ray's mom told me once, right after Ray and I were married, that
Kowalski's mate for life like wolves. Why do I get the feeling Mounties do
the same thing? 

 FIN 

End