Badge Of Pride #2: Snapshots Of The Mind	Badge Of Pride #2:
Snapshots Of The Mind

 by Gilda Lily

  

 Author's Website: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Gallery/8741/jmgarden.htm

 Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, Alliance does, more's the pity.

 Author's Notes: This new series is an AU, a different version of American
and Canadian history. The words *"It could happen here"* spring to mind. 

 Story Notes: Pairing: Benny/Ray V. 
Categories: Drama, AU. 
Rating: PG.

 

 

 I
 HEARTS OF GOLD 

 Benny awoke with a start, then relaxed as he realized that he was in
Ray's bedroom. 

 Their bedroom. Words that always made him feel proud. He closed his eyes
and tried to breathe without gasping. The pain in his chest sliced through
his lungs and he coughed. Footsteps sounded in the hallway and the door
opened.  

 "How are you, caro?" asked Rosa. 

 Benny answered after coughing, "A little under the weather, Ma." 

 Rosa smiled. It had taken awhile for Benny to feel comfortable calling
his lover's mother by the name all her children called her, but now he did
it without embarrassment. She hid her anxiety as she took in his feverish
blue eyes and sweat-sheened skin. She put a hand on his forehead and felt
the little trickle of fear that was becoming a daily routine. Still hot. 

 "Time for your medicine, eh?" She got the bottle and he dutifully took
the spoonfuls, so much like a little boy that her heart ached. Her
Raymondo had always been a complainer when sick but she had never minded.
He had been a good little boy and had suffered much at the hands of his
father, so a little griping when ill never bothered her. It was her son's
way to complain and groan and moan, but he was tender as a marshmallow
underneath. 

 With Benton, she wondered about his childhood. He seemed so absurdly
grateful for any little attention by her. He was quiet and obedient and
while he would start to assert himself in that quiet way when he felt
better, he would still obey her and Ray. 

 "Would you like something to eat, caro?" 

 He shook his head as he coughed again. "No, ma'am, but may I please have
one of my photo albums?" 

 "Certainly." Rosa walked to the bureau and opened a drawer. "Number one
all right?" 

 "Yes, ma'am." 

 Rosa took out the treasured possession. 

 "Thank you kindly," he said, reverently taking the album from her. 

 "Enjoy, Benton. I will be downstairs if you need me." 

 Rosa closed the door quietly and leaned against it for a moment, closing
her eyes. Her son's beloved was still sick. 

 Her heart lifted as she thought of the albums: all were meticulously
arranged according to event and date, the dates handwritten on the back of
each photograph the work of Benton. Her Ray was neat but when it came to
pictures, he would have just left them in the envelopes that had come from
the camera shop and if he had time, would have dated the pictures. As soon
as each roll of film came back and was oohed and aahed over, Benton took
the photographs and wrote all the pertinent information on them. 

 There were six albums of ordered photographs by now, and the wedding
album had the place of honor, along with videotapes and a few
old-fashioned rolls of projector film. 

 Rosa pushed away from the door and went slowly down the stairs, her
work-roughened hand gripping the balustrade. She knew that she should
condemn her son and the man in his bed for what they were. The Church and
society said that she should. The neighborhood said that she should. Just
two weeks before Benton had fallen ill, he and Raymondo had spent a
Saturday repainting the part of the house that had been vandalized with
homophobic slurs. 

 Yet she didn't have the heart to do it. Benton was such a good boy, like
her Raymondo. Yes, they sinned, but could anyone with hearts of gold like
those two really be such bad sinners? She entered the living room, deep in
thought. 

 She saw one of her neighbors pass the house. The woman made a gesture:
warding off the 'evil eye'. Suddenly furious, Rosa hurried to the front
door and yanked it open. 

 "Antoinette Delgado, have you nothing better to do than make hateful
gestures at my family's house?!" 

 The other woman's face contorted into a sneer. "As long as your family
keeps puttana, yes." 

 Rosa spat her fury and Mrs. Delgado laughed, continuing on her journey.
With trembling hands, Rosa slammed the door. 

 She willed herself to stop shaking, fury and sorrow and frustration all
rolled up into one. She glanced up the staircase. She hoped that Benton
hadn't heard that nasty exchange. She squared her shoulders and marched
into the kitchen and set her mind to preparing lunch.*	

 II
 THE GOLD LEAF 

 After Rosa left, he opened the album. Dief padded over and pushed at
Benny's arm. 

 "Certainly, you may look." Benny gazed at the first picture. "Some kind
American tourists took our picture that day in Toronto..."  

 //In the autumn of 1979, Benton Fraser had been summoned to his
commanding officer's office and told, "The RCMP is entering into a special
liaison program with the Americans. Our first officer is a man from the
Chicago Police Department. He's a patrolman, but his record suggest that
he'll be making detective in a few years. He is to be based in Toronto for
the next year, and you will be his contact on the force. The brass decided
that we needed some cooperation and learning between men who are in the
trenches every day while in uniform instead of making this a program for
detectives. I don't have his name, but he'll be at the 36th Precinct by
noon. Better hike it over there." 

 "Yes, sir." 

 Ben enjoyed the walk to the Precinct. He was dressed in his brown
uniform, a twenty-year-old with over a year of Northwest Territory duty
under his belt. He'd only been stationed here for six months and still
found it difficult to adjust to this big city. 

 He was curious about the American he was to work with for the next year.
He wished that his superior had possessed the name of the man, but
apparently he'd been named at the last minute and no details beyond an
impressive record had been forwarded. 

 Ben had met Americans before. He had even met a few in the Territories
years ago, but had enjoyed semi-regular contact with all the Yankee
tourists and businesspeople here in Toronto. He wondered if this American
would be abrasive or polite. It seemed that there was never an in-between
with their neighbors due south. 

 He arrived at the Precinct and entering the quietly efficient squadroom.
He asked the provinicial sergeant at the desk for the whereabouts of the
visiting American officer. 

 "Oh, yeah, you're gonna like this guy." The sergeant waved toward a short
hallway behind him. "Through those doors, down the hall, third room on
your right. He's in the break room." 

 "Thank you kindly." Ben started to go around the desk, then paused. "Oh,
do you know his name?" 

 "You can't miss him. Just look for Armani." 

 Ben nodded and headed down the hall. 

 Before he reached the break room, the sounds of laughter could be heard.
He heard an unmistakably Yankee accent. 

 He stood in the entranceway and heads turned. 

 "I'm looking for an Officer...Armani?"//  

 Benny laughed quietly to himself at the memory of the reaction of the
men, but most particularly of the brash, beautiful American who had been
sitting in a chair regaling his Canadian colleagues with tales of Chicago
policing.  

 //The sleek head turned and Benny nearly gasped. He was captivated by the
most beautiful emerald eyes he had ever seen. Flashing a gleaming smile,
the man laughed, those emerald eyes sparkling. Ben felt quite overcome at
the sexual power of the man as he rose from his chair, graceful in his
pearl-gray Armani suit, and extended a slender hand. The handshake was
firm and warm. 

 Benny was in love.//  

 Their romance had started quickly. In the heady days of 1979, gays were
free to be open and just like their straight counterparts in courting and
loving. The change had been so rapid from the pre-Stonewall days that men
like himself and Ray drank in the sheer wonder of being alive. They could
hold hands and walk down the street without instant censure. They were
welcome at the best restaurants and could steal a quick kiss in the park
if they wanted. 

 The first two years had been spent in Toronto as partners. Ray's
involvement in the liaison program was extended due to their excellent
record of police work, and when he had gone back home to the States, they
had depleted their bank accounts with frequent trips back and forth for
weekends and vacations. 

 Then Benny's father had been killed, and the hunt for his killers had
brought him to Chicago. The unveiling of Gerard as the prime mover behind
the killing had brought Bob Fraser's murderer to justice, but had frozen
Benny out of the RCMP for turning in one of his own. He was punished for
that by exile to America. 

 Except that it wasn't punishment. His exile was in Chicago, and he and
Ray had been delighted. 

 He sighed happily as he looked at first photo that he and Ray had ever
posed for...  

 //"So, this restaurant is supposed to be pretty classy, huh?" 

 Ben nodded. "I have heard my fellow Mounties talk about it." 

 "You've never gone there yourself?" 

 Ben looked at his companion. It was a beautiful autumn day and they had
chosen to walk. Ray had ridden the subway over, unsure of where to park
his 'baby', which apparently was a car. 

 "No, Officer Vecchio." 

 Ray's teeth flashed in a grin. "We're going to be partners, Fraser. You
can call me Ray." 

 "Oh." Ben blinked. "Then please call me Benton." 

 Ray smiled again. "How about...?" He thought quickly, then his face lit
up like the sun. Ben's heart skipped a beat. "...Benny!"* 

 "'Benny'?" 

 "Yeah." Ray took a step back, cocking his head from one side to the
other. Ben mirrored his actions. "You look like a 'Benny' to me.' 

 "Oh." A sudden flush of warmth rushed through Ben, now Benny. "Thank you
kindly, Ray." 

 "You're welcome." 

 *They arrived at //The Gold Leaf// Restaurant, the fancy exterior
interesting to Ray. He liked the autumn-gold canopy over the entrance, and
the brilliant green fronds ensconced in decorative stone planters. The
windows were discreetly shaded by wine-red silken drapes, just the hint of
the elegance outside reaching the peons on the street.* 

 "Nice place," Ray said. 

 "Yes." 

 An elderly couple stopped by the entrance. "Young man," the woman asked
Ray, "would you take a picture of my husband and me?" 

 "Certainly," Ray said with a charming smile. He snapped the photo quickly
and handed the camera back. 

 "Are you enjoying your visit to Toronto, ma'am?" asked Benny. 

 "Yes, young man. I...you're a Mountie, aren't you?" 

 Benny proudly answered yes. 

 "Oh, I'd love a picture of a Mountie! And you, too, young man. Stand
right in front of the restaurant." 

 Benny and Ray arranged themselves in front of the entrance, Ray putting
his arm around his new partner's shoulder and smiling as Benny's lips
quirked. The woman took two snapshots and handed one to them on the spot
from the instant camera.//  

 That first lunch they had shared together had been special and glorious.
Their courtship grew out of a solid friendship. 

 And when the U.S. Supreme Court followed the Canadian Court in 1984 and
declared gay marriage legal, we ran for it. 

 1984 had been the apogee of the gay liberation movement. Ironically, at
the height of their triumph with the legalization of gay marriage, forces
had already begun to maneuver themselves into place to begin the horror
that proved to be slow and insidious. 

 Benny shut the album, suddenly tired. He leaned back against the pillows
and Dief whined. Benny patted his wolf's head, feeling drained. He heard a
door slam and started to drift off...  

 //They walked in the early glow of morning, hands clasped as they
traversed Queen's Park. Ray turned and smiled at Benny, the Mountie's
heart flip-flopping. They were so happy. Benny's sapphire eyes sparkled
and he leaned over for a long, delicious kiss. Ray returned it with
fervor, and they parted with wide smiles on their faces. 

 Benny had never felt quite like this before. The man he loved was
frequently abrasive, loud, and opinionated, but he had a charm that
overlay all of that, and the way he moved with such panther-like grace
should be against the law. He was an American, and his fellow Mounties had
warned him against getting his heart broken by an American. His father was
horrified at the nature of the relationship. Despite the new freedom for
gays, not everyone delighted in it. 

 But all that paled next to his Ray, the light of his life, the man whom
he loved with all the fierceness of a heart that had been lonely for so
long. 

 Ray's green eyes were so bright, so captivating, so mesmerizing...//  

 Benny sighed in happy remembrance, then a shadow drifted over his face.
So different from their last time in a park. Grant Park...  

 //It was deserted in this part of the park. They had to be so careful
now. Benny saw the pink triangle that Ray wore out of the corner of his
eye but ignored it. It hurt to see a symbol once worn with pride,
reclaimed from shame, now once again used as a symbol of shame. He held
Ray's hand tightly. 

 It was quiet as dusk fell on this winter's night. Snow covered the trees
and the ground, the path they had taken rough and difficult to traverse,
but they had needed the privacy. 

 Ray turned to him and they smiled. They came together in a gentle kiss,
caressing each other with eager hands. 

 Benny's ears pricked up at the sound of a twig snapping, but nothing
followed the noise so he ignored it. He concentrated on kissing Ray. It
had been such a long, distressful day... 

 He heard another twig snap. This time he and Ray parted and turned just
in time to see the hate-contorted faces of the teenagers spilling out of
the woods around them, howls of derision and rage echoing in the quiet
park. Benny and Ray turned as one, stumbling and running as they kept a
firm grip on each other's hands, the hateful words hurled at them. Ray
ducked a rock thrown at his head, Benny letting out a soft cry as a stone
landed with force between his shoulderblades. He stumbled, Ray lifting him
up and pushing him onward...//	

 It had only been a miracle that they had escaped the howling hordes at
their heels. Benny still shook at the memory. He closed the album, the
pain in his chest lancing through him with a razor-sharpness. Dief
whimpered and rested his head on Benny's lap, the Canadian gently petting
his wolf's head as he held the hand with his wedding ring to his chest. 
E-Mail: jeanniemarie@sprintmail.com
 (c) April 10, 2001 

End