No Sense Is Nonsense VIII	   No Sense Is Nonsense VIII

 by LadyAna

  

 Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/ladyanasslashsite/

 Disclaimer: copyright to Alliance.

 Author's Notes: ** Infidelity scenarios in this chapter. There. I said
it.** 

 Story Notes: I can't keep track of all the spoilers I use!

 This story is a sequel to:
https://www.squidge.org/dsa/archive/10/nosense.html 

 

 "Addictive Poison"
 by LadyAna 

 Dief saw the two men were no longer interested in his presence, so he
went to lay in the corner until they were done talking. 

 "It's pure." 

 A heartbeat passed before Ray snapped, "Pure what?!" 

 "Heroin." Fraser reluctantly confirmed. He closed the bag and placed it
on the floor, careful to not leave any fingerprints. "It's very close to
the cut that Tanya Camfetel had." 

 Sweet Jesus, no... Ray's heart thumped, a chill rippling through him. He
went over to the couch and flopped down, placing his head in his hands.
The Constable was on still his knees, his brow knitted. Finally, Fraser
said, "Ray...this...doesn't make any sense." 

 Mentally exhausted, Vecchio raised his head. "What do you mean?" 

 "Well, if Pace were any kind of true drug dealer, keeping a 'stash' in
his place of work...in a potted plant nonetheless...serves him no purpose.
If anything, this looks to be, er, planted, as it were." 

 The cop's heart beat faster. "Yeah, you're right. This could be false
evidence!" 

 The tidy Mountie straightened the large bamboo plant and started scooping
the dirt and drugs back into the pot. 

 "You're putting the drugs back in there!?" 

 "Ray," the Mountie reasoned, "if someone other than Pace put this here,
came to retrieve it and found it missing, James could be in a lot of
trouble. Or, if James did put the drugs here and find them gone, someone
else might get seriously hurt. I'll take a small amount to have the lab
test for comparison to the bag known to be in the possession of Michael
Perkinson. We can retrieve that packet from the evidence lockup." 

 The Italian winced, vaguely recalling he'd been so upset before they
left, Fraser had tell him to leave the drugs at the station that Tanya
Camfetel brought with her. She'd told them her deceased boyfriend was
guilty of being a mule for Laron Parks and handed over the proof to them.
Quietly, Ray asked, "Do you think we should tell James what we found?" 

 The Constable was leery. "I...don't know about that, Ray. Perhaps we
should do a background check first. Try to find out if James is who he
claims to be." 

 The Detective considered how Louise St. Laurent was out for blood in the
case against Pace's boss. "But what if the cops come calling on him before
then?" 

 "Well, we still have to prove where it came from, in order to clear James
anyway." 

 Vecchio noticed the Canadian cleaned the area pretty well without a
vacuum cleaner. He'd go get a broom or something to get up the rest in a
minute. 

 Damn that tan rug! 

 "Come on, Benny. Let's finish this and get the Hell out of here. I want
to know if I have a real friend in J.P. or not."  

 Thank God Harding is on vacation. Ray thought as he clicked on another
site. 

 Both men were at the precinct, hovered over separate computers. They were
deep in research of who James Pace truly was. Thanks to the Mountie's
skilled technical information training, they were able to access many
files and accounts, some normally requiring an authorized permit. If
caught, the Italian determined, they both could say they were working on a
case for Ms. Laurent, which wasn't entirely untrue. Ray prayed they were,
in fact, not doing such a thing. 

 He didn't know what he'd do, if it turned out James was nothing but a
manipulative criminal. The cop's animalistic side twitched for a second,
followed by utter disgust. Since the possibility occurred that James might
be a drug runner, Vecchio's desire for his fellow Italian soured on the
spot. 

 I may be horny and desperate, but I ain't stupid. 

 "From what I can see, that is all of it." Fraser said. 

 Ray came over to the Canadian and looked down at the computer screen. "We
haven't been here for too long. Are you sure?" 

 "I can't seem to find any other accounts, organizations or affiliates
under a James Pace anywhere in the Untied States. Of course, I had to weed
out those with the same name not connected to your James Pace." 

 Ray smiled. His lover was being very helpful and knowledgeable and the
Detective was more than aware the Mountie was looking the other way during
their not-so-official investigation of Pace. It made the American all warm
and gooey for the Constable to keep silent, since they weren't exactly
being honest in their present excursion. "Oh, so he's mine now?" 

 "If you wish." 

 "Huh?" 

 Fraser turned and smiled at him. "Oh, I mean if he turns out...you
know...okay." 

 "Oh." Ray wasn't even sure what he just agreed to, but dismissed it. 

 "Alright..." said the Constable. He picked up a few beige folders and
handed them to Ray. "Here are some the files and records I've printed out.
Bank records, tax-paying history and the like are included." 

 "Sounds good." The Italian momentarily contemplated his friend, lover,
Mountie-extraordinaire. They were still having problems sexually, but it
hadn't been long since they'd slept together and Fraser hadn't thrown
himself in front of any bullets, trucks or irate dogsleds lately. And at
present, the cop was quite grateful for Fraser trying to make sure James
wasn't evil. "Hey, Benny." 

 "Yes, Ray?" 

 "Thanks...for helping me." 

 Fraser smiled and Ray got goose bumps. "I just hope everything works out
for the both of you." 

 "Come on, let's start reading." 

 At that moment, Ray's cell phone rang. "Vecchio!" 

 "Ray?!" said the panicked voice on the other end, "Where are you!?" 

 Ray stood bolt upright at the terror in his sister's voice. "Frannie?!
What's wrong?" 

 "You've got to get to the hospital! Ma collapsed!"  

 "Raimondo! If you don't stop fussing, I'm going to turn you over my knee!
I'm fine now." 

 Ray squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep down his exasperation. "Ma,
you are not 'fine'! You had a heart attack!" 

 Rosa Vecchio stilled, but only for a few seconds. When she spoke again,
her voice was subdued. "I know that, Raimondo, but you heard the doctor.
She said it wasn't very severe." 

 The Detective sat in the chair next to his mother's hospital bed and took
hold of her hand. "I know that, but they still want to keep you here for
more tests and they don't know how long that's going to take." 

 Rosa regarded him with warm eyes. "I know you're worried, dear, but I
will be better soon. You'll see! What I am concerned about is the house.
You need to make sure everyone there will be okay while I am gone." 

 Just the idea made him wince. Trying to keep all the occupants of the
Vecchio home in line, for an undetermined amount of time, was a challenge
the cop did not want to face. Yet he knew he had no choice and if he
showed the slightest amount of disinterest, his mother would start talking
crazy about signing herself out of the hospital. He smiled falsely. "Of
course I'll take care of it, Ma." 

 "Where is my other son, Benton?" 

 "I sent him home with the others. The hospital staff was starting to give
us nasty looks. It's way past visiting hours. The only reason they let me
stay is because I showed my shield to the doctor on duty." 

 "Well, you go on now. You've fluffed my pillow enough and I have more
blankets than I know what to do with." 

 "Yes, Ma. And keep the phone off the hook! Do not let them call you every
five minutes! You let me know if the doctor says anything, okay?" 

 She smiled. "I will, Raimondo. Of course I will." 

 As Ray left, he couldn't help but notice her joy was almost as phoney as
his. She was scared...and he knew it.  

 He hung up his cell phone as he turned onto Octavia Drive. He'd been
trying to call the house to see if the chaos had settled down, but he kept
getting a busy signal. The Detective's heart cinched, thinking of his
mother in that hospital bed, with all those wires and tubes in her, trying
to hide her inner terror. She was putting on a brave face, as always. He
shivered, acknowledging she wasn't the only one. It was very much like
when he was young and everyone tried to ignore the high tension that was
ever-present in their house. Back then, he'd grown accustom to coming home
from school and the very first thing you did was "find the enemy". Where
was Pop? What he doing? Was he drunk? Had there been a fight or whipping?
Was anyone at the hospital? Ray would rack his brain, wondering if he'd
researched the situation well enough. He'd look at his sisters, judge his
brother and survey the general surroundings. If all checked out, the last
step was to see if Ma was okay. If she were fine, then he could breathe a
little. 

 But now, the threat was back again, only this time it couldn't just get
drunk and pass out or leave to be with other women or go gambling. Rosa
Vecchio's body was turning on her and there was little Ray could do to
protect her from that. He could take a beating for her, put sleeping pills
in the beer or hide a few dollars for food. But he couldn't stop fate from
running it's course. Sucking is a shaky breath, he took hold of the
gargantuan mound of worry and fear and despair and shoved it to the back
of the farthest, innermost and most concealed part of his brain. The only
way he was going to care for his family was if he were in control, not
fixating over what he couldn't change. And keeping his relatives rational
would take more than a little of his time and effort. Geez. I remember the
last time Ma went to the hospital with chest pains. The house didn't get
back on track for a week, even though she was only away for three days. 

 The Detective wasn't looking forward to being there the entire night, for
God knows how many nights, trying to get everyone dinner, cleaning up and
the children put down for the night. This was not mentioning dealing with
the adults, who were probably just as unnerved as the kids. He couldn't
even begin to think about them preparing breakfast the next morning. A
schedule of chores would have to be worked out for everyone. 

 God only knows what they've done to Benny. He's probably got curlers in
his hair from little Rosalee and had to stop Frannie from strangling Tony.


 And that's when Ray remembered he'd all but forgotten about James and the
predicament at hand. He certainly wasn't going to have much time to
investigate Pace, with his mother in the hospital. He'd also have to
cancel their morning jog time as well. J.P.'s situation was urgent, but it
was going to have to wait. Ma and the family came first. 

 He smiled a little when he thought of what a stabilizing influence his
mother had on the entire family. Yes, there were three adults who lived
there besides her, but it was Rosa who provided the emotional support for
all residing at the Vecchio household. Her mental backbone and ubiquitous
spirit gave them a sense of order and well-being. How he was going to fill
that void was beyond him. That didn't even include the fact Ray still had
a full time job at the precinct, as well as digging up dirt on suspicious
allies. Despite his concerns regarding James, his thoughts kept returning
to the house. At least Tony has a job now. Him, Maria and Frannie have
been pretty successful in rotating their schedules to help care for the
kids. 

 He pulled up into the driveway, seeing the house was still intact at the
moment. He parked, got out, hunching himself over at the bitter cold and
went to the side door. He let himself in and was inundated by the
wonderful aromas of a slow cooking pork roast. Fraser turned and smiled.
"Hello, Ray." 

 Ray's mouth fell open. For starters, the place was clean. The kids
weren't playing with the flour or tried to cook something or poured juice
into the microwave. Unbelievably, the sound level was about normal. This
meant only two children were arguing over a toy and Frannie was
complaining about something to Tony and Maria was saying she wasn't
getting in the middle of it. Somehow, the Canadian had calmed the entire
place down and got them on some sense of a schedule, to keep them busy and
not riddled with anxiety. It was a miracle! 

 "Ray?" the Mountie asked as he came closer, "Is everything all right?" 

 The Detective beamed. "How did you do all this, Benny?! The place looks
great!" 

 The Constable ducked his head and blushed. "It wasn't that difficult,
actually." He gestured towards the front room. "It seems structure was
something they needed, so I just gave them each a task and it seems to
have worked." 

 Vecchio walked over to the stove. There was rice, gravy and a load of
mixed vegetables to go with a lean pork roast. "And you cooked! This is
excellent, Benny! You have no idea how much you've helped out." 

 Fraser took Ray into his arms. "It's only because I love you." 

 Vecchio sighed in his arms. The weight of his concerns lifted
ever-so-slightly and his gratitude swelled for this incredible man. "No, I
love you." 

 "Ray?!" Frannie snapped, coming into the kitchen, "Where have you been?
Why didn't you call? How's Ma?" 

 "She's fine, Fran...and by the way, I'm doing wonderful. And, FYI, dear,
the phone here is off the hook." 

 She rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever. The phone's been busy because we've
been calling the family to let them know Ma is sick." 

 Ray paled, his knees shaking. "Please tell me you stopped them from
coming over!" 

 His sister smiled smugly. "Please! You don't think I remember the chaos
they caused last time they were here when Ma was ill?! Maria and I
wouldn't even tell them the name of the hospital she's at. We told them
they could stop by after she got back home. When that didn't work for Aunt
Sissy, we told her she could come by on Saturday." 

 The Detective was relieved, but not much. "Well, I guess we can expect
the entire Vecchio ensemble over here soon, with the way that woman
gossips." 

 "At least we put them off for a few days, Ray." 

 "That's true. Thanks, Fran." 

 "Hey, no problem. I'm gonna' get back to helping Maria." she said before
leaving the room. 

 "I guess I should think of something large to cook for Saturday. We
Italians try to solve most problems through food." 

 "Ray?" 

 "Hmm?" 

 "Actually, I have some more good news, as well." The Mountie said. 

 "Please, bring it on!" 

 "I did some work while you were at the hospital." He went over to the
dinning room table, picked up a manilla folder and opened it. "It looks
like Mr. James Pace has his faults, but from I can see, drug-running is
not one of them." 

 Ray pushed out his chin in confusion. "How do you know that?" 

 "If anything, James has spent a lot of money, as you told me previously.
My problem was finding out where that money was coming from. I checked
into his background and discovered a law firm handling two accounts under
the names Mrs. Denise Pace and Mr. John Pace." 

 "That's James' parents!" 

 "Exactly." said the smiling Canadian. "I obtained the bank records from
the law firm and Pace. He's being paid in installments, directly deposited
in the bank. Most likely, that is a tactic to try to keep the total sum
away from him, in hopes of eventually overturning the verdict. Withdraw
amounts, deposits and transfers match almost to the dime." 

 Vecchio tentatively asked, "Benny...are you saying all the money J.P. has
is from his parent's inheritance?!" 

 "From what I can see, yes, that's it. But he is spending a lot.
Personally, I think he's afraid he'll lose the money back to the law firm
representing his father's account. Apparently, James contested his
father's will and won. For now, that is. His father's relatives are
fighting it. I went back further into John Pace's account and he was quite
aggressive in making sure James had to fight to get any money at all." 

 "Yes, James said his father never accepted him after he came out. John
Pace died a holdout, but his wife relented, letting J.P. back in her life
not long before she died." 

 "Also..." the Canadian said, "I went through some files for Mr. Laron
Parks. He owns a few malls in Illinois alone. The list of mules that
Louise St. Laurent has indicates James mall is not the only one involved
in the plot to distribute drugs. Usually, in an illegal activity, it's
best to keep the number of people involved down to a minimum and that is
true in this scenario. I see no evidence linking anyone but the guards to
selling the contraband, hence another good rule in such a trade. It's best
to use morally questionable individuals for the most dangerous work.
Should they be caught, few would believe their story or it wouldn't be
unheard of them to simply go missing. Oh, and James' transfer to that
Chicago mall was long before Mr. Parks ever took over." 

 "So what you're saying is, you don't think James is involved because none
of the other CEO's at Parks' other malls have been listed with the D.A.'s
office in any way, except for those security guards who worked for them." 

 "Right! And a few of those young men have turned up on missing persons
reports." 

 "Or murdered outright, like Michael Perkinson." 

 "Exactly, which leads to my other conclusion. Unfortunately, in nefarious
dealings, it's also a common practice to frame a few people as well,
should the main dealer be caught. That way, the legalities take forever
and the justice system is overloaded trying to sort the mess out. In the
meantime, Mr. Parks can eliminate evidence, have key people killed off or
he himself can leave the country. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't be
surprised to find out the other CEO's of those malls are also in danger of
being dragged down with him." 

 Relief flushed through Ray while Fraser spoke and he was so happy he
barely heard what the Mountie was saying. "Do you know what this means,
Benny!? J.P. is innocent!" 

 "That is the most likely scenario, Ray. It suits the facts I have found.
Although..." Fraser's eyes darted downward, apparently not wanting to
continue. 

 "Come on, Benny...what else do you know?" 

 The Mountie sighed and said, "James shifted around some funds at Aegis
Security and bought the Lexus with company funds, which I'm sure is
against their policy. Plus, his bank records took longer to figure out
because he's rather irresponsible where money is concerned. He's paid a
fortune in bank fees, from writing bad checks. If James were any kind of
seller of illegal narcotics, his lifestyle would not only be even more
opulent than what we've seen, he'd definitely have his financial records
in better order." 

 "You're right! If Pace were dealing, there would be no reason to steal
money from the company to buy the second car." 

 "However, I'm also afraid James is in danger should Laron Parks find out
about the investigation-" 

 "Oh God, Benny! You don't think Parks is 'cleaning house'?!" 

 Fraser held up his hand, eyes closing for a second. "I would normally
agree, Ray, that James would be in immediate danger, but I think Ms.
Laurent is skilled in keeping the investigation a secret. But, I would say
you should warn James as soon as possible. Not only about Parks, but the
fact he very well may be swept up into the investigation." 

 At that moment, Ray's cell phone rang. "Vecchio!" 

 "Ray? It's me, Dewey." 

 Vecchio squinted his eyes. "What do you want, Dewey? To put it mildly,
it's been a long day." 

 "Stop yer whining, Vecchio. I need to speak to you now. At the station." 

 "Look, if this is about us testifying-" 

 "No, it's not!" Thomas snapped. "I need to tell you what I heard
regarding the case of that murdered security guard." 

 Ray jerked a little, totally taken aback. It took a second before he
said, "I'll be there soon. I got one run to make." 

 He hung up and turned to Fraser, "I'm sorry, Benny, but the day is not
over for me yet. I'll be back as soon as I can. Are you going to be okay?"


 "Of course, Ray. I'll be here when you get back." 

 The Italian hadn't even taken off his coat and here he had to turn right
back around. He hugged the man in front of him, melting into Benny's
natural warmth. He held him close, murmuring, "I am the luckiest man
alive, you know that?" 

 Just as soft and sweet, Fraser whispered, "I have to disagree with you on
that, Ray. I...am the luckiest man alive." 

 Ray closed his eyes and kissed his neck. "I love you, Benny. Thanks for
being so understanding." 

 "No problem, Ray. Go. Everything will be fine."  

 In the Riv, Ray tried to call James' loft, but only got the answering
machine. He told Pace he needed to speak with him a.s.a.p. and to please
call him on his cell phone. Vecchio went to J.P's apartment, but there was
no answer. Until he actually made contact with Pace, the only other thing
Ray could do was go to the precinct and see what Dewey had to say. He was
highly intrigued to know what Thomas had to tell him. They may have
different ways of solving crimes and he knew Dewey wasn't evil. 

 Just too ambitious and a poor cop. 

 He wound up waiting in the cafeteria, sipping at coffee from a paper cup.
Sorry, Benny. Knowing the name of the guy who fills the vending machine
still doesn't make the coffee drinkable. Dewey was far too busy making
heated phones calls at the moment, to persons who's identity he did not
wish to share with his fellow officers of the law. Finally, Dewey turned
the corner and sat across from Vecchio. 

 "So. What big news do you have, Thomas, that couldn't wait until
morning?" 

 Dewey looked at Ray and was about to start their usual speech war.
Abruptly, he stopped and let his head drop, muttering, "No, if I do that,
then I'll have to sit here with you even longer. Just listen, okay? Can
you do that?" 

 "I'm all ears, Detective." 

 Vecchio knew it was bad when Thomas didn't even try for a comeback.
Instead, the other cop said, "I have connections with folks at the 23rd.
There was an inmate who'd been arrested for breaking and entering named
Dale. He was put in a cell with a guy called Chuck, who'd committed armed
robbery. After they'd been housed together for awhile, they got to talking
and Dale told Chuck he'd shot a security guard outside a mall as payback."


 Ray gaped, thinking his luck could never be this good! "How did you find
out about all of this?" 

 "How do you think? Chuck wants a deal. He'll testify to what Dale told
him for a lighter sentence." 

 "How do you know what he's saying is true?" 

 "Because, I did some checking into Dale's past and low and behold...he
was arrested for fighting with a security guard, who suspected him of
shoplifting. The guard's name? Michael Perkinson." 

 It didn't take long for doubt to surface in Vecchio. "This is great news,
Thomas. But can we tie him to the crime with more than just the word of a
fellow inmate?" 

 Dewey smiled so brightly, Ray thought for a second he was about to say it
was all a joke, that he was simply pulling a fast one over Vecchio. Yet,
once again, Thomas floored him with an even better update. "Not only can
we charge him with the crime, we got the murder weapon and a full
confession." 

 "Holy shit! How'd you get all that?!" 

 "I did some digging and once I found out Chuck was even partially right,
I got a search warrant for Dale's property and the gun was found right
where he said it was, in the ceiling of his bedroom. Ballistics and
forensics match up perfectly." 

 A thrilled giggle floated up in Vecchio. "Wow! Thank God for there being
no honor among thieves!" 

 "That's right, Ray. Or among cops." 

 Ray bristled, his joy leveling off. "What do you mean?" 

 That same, old, arrogant Dewey demeanor was slapped back into place. "I
didn't do this for you, Vecchio. I saw you were too damned busy having
perverted orgies with the Mountie and that new fag you're hanging with to
have time for police work, so I acted on the information to solve the case
myself. Now I can take credit. Let's see what the press thinks of that!" 

 Vecchio's throat clinched, his guts tightening. "You...you had this
information all along...and you kept it hidden?! So you could gloat you
figured it out?!" Ray jumped up, knocking his chair over. "You stupid
son-of-a-bitch! Do you know how much Hell you caused?!" 

 "Keep your panties on, dear. I didn't find too long ago, so don't run
crying to Welsh I didn't share the toys I found." 

 "But you didn't tell me what you'd discovered! And I was the
investigating officer." 

 "Doesn't matter now, does it? The press and the police chief and the city
aren't going to care that you're the one who farted around on the case for
as long as you have. They only care who solves it." 

 Vecchio's vision was draped with a red haze and his hands were sore from
curling his fists. He had to get out of there before he did something to
ruin his career and/or his life. "Enjoy your accolades, Detective." he
snarled. "Don't forget to mention all the bodies you've climbed over to
get to the top."  

 Vecchio stormed out of the station house. Yet, the anger was rapidly
switching to panic to find James. He had to warn him about the inevitable
danger of not only Mr. Parks, but the investigation at the DA's office as
well. AND the development in the Michael Perkinson case. The bitter cold
wasn't even a concern as he made his way through the parking lot. He
looked up...and saw Pace standing about fifteen feet away, next to his
Lexus. Ray reared back, shocked at seeing him. "James! Thank God you're
here. I have-" 

 "Oh, yeah, Ray. You're real happy to see me. When you're not fucking me
over." 

 Ray blanched. "What the Hell are you talking about?" 

 Pace laughed, disgusted and choked off a sob. He tensed up like a winch
ready to crack. "Me?! What am I-?" He turned away, then back, yelling,
"You searched my office, Ray! You tore it up, looking for something, God
only knows what." 

 Vecchio's head sunk, his entire body drooped. "James, I had to know-" 

 "KNOW WHAT?!" Pace screamed. "That, believe it or not, I wanted to be
your friend, for no other reason than I wanted to be your friend?!" J.P.
breathed heavily, nearly hyperventilating. "You had to think that I simply
could not want you in my life because I like you, that there HAD to be an
ulterior motive! Besides, you think because that arrogant bastard cleaned
up, I wouldn't notice what you two had done? Oh, that's right, that
red-clad fool can do no wrong! I'd better back off before lightening
strikes for putting down the MountieGod!" 

 Vecchio's blood bubbled. "Don't bring him into this, Pace!" 

 "Why shouldn't I?!" James countered. He looked right at Ray, his red, wet
eyes glistening with anger and tears. "He's tried to drive you away OR
insane by nearly killing himself on a regular basis! He's refused you so
many times, you think of yourself as some ugly troll! Now you walk around,
ignoring that hole in your heart, which never works. That is not the Ray
Vecchio I knew when I left here years ago!" 

 His spine tingled with rebellion. "Let me tell you about 'that Ray
Vecchio', James! I didn't care much for him or things he was planning to
get ahead. Fraser gave me a reason to keep trying, to be a better
person...and it worked! At least I didn't run away from my problems!" 

 Pace's tone was strained, nearly high-pitched with rage. "Ya' know, Ray,
I never really did think you could be so wonderful at being a victim." 

 Floored, Ray said, "Wha-? You stupid- For your information, I ain't
wallowing in self-pity, Pace! I'm a Hell of a lot better off than I was
before Fraser came into my life, believe me." 

 J.P. shook his head. "No...no, I don't see that, Ray. I see a man who's
dying. The spark in your eye is gone. You previously had a freeness about
you that's all tied up in knots now. Oh sure, your case load is lighter
and you dress better and you keep even more of yourself hidden and THAT is
the only thing getting you through the day! But even that is bittersweet,
seeing it took Fraser to get it going. So, you can't go to work for fear
he'll die. And you can't go home for fear he'll be dead. OR he'll gouge
out another hunk of your soul to slap on his mantle as another prize for
being a frigid freak!" 

 He was full of swords, the vocal knives slitting his flesh, truths and
outright lies alike. It was a stupid gesture, yet he still came closer,
his fists once again painfully clenched. "Shut up, Pace, or so help me
God..." 

 "What? You'll hit me? Oh, yeah! That will really help! Guess what? It
won't make you happy, it won't solve a case and it won't make the Mountie
sane!" 

 Ray almost succumb to blows, but James began backing away, hands raised
in surrender. "That's okay, Ray! You won't have to get physical with me
ever again, in any way, shape or form! I won't give you the chance. You
and the Mountie have a great life! 

 "Goddamn it, Pace! Listen to me! You are in danger!" 

 J.P.'s eyes bugged. "You...you can't be serious! Ray, no one uses lines
like that in real life! That's something out of a tacky Detective novel.
You really expect for me to believe-" 

 "Yes, I do! I do expect you to believe me." He came closer, letting his
voice drop. "Mr. Parks is a drug dealer. The DA's office knows and they
are trying to bring him in and if you don't listen to me, you could be
dragged down with him." 

 Pace's eyes bloomed. "Mr. Parks?" There was a second before he said, "Are
you sure?" 

 "That's what the DA's office says. And I can prove some of it! They know
a few of your guards acted as his mules. I had to search your office,
James. That's why I had Fraser check you out. Because if this does go down
wrong, then maybe I have something to pull you out of the mess." 

 Clearly, as James was taking all of this in, Vecchio could see his fear
increasing. Pace's eyes, once bloodshot, were now wide and clear. "What...
Did you find anything?" 

 "Yes, I did." 

 J.P. flinched. "In MY office?!" 

 "I'm afraid so." 

 "Drugs? In my office?! Did you get rid of it?" 

 "James, we had to leave it there in case the owners came back!" 

 "WHAT?! Okay, fine, then I'll take care of it." 

 James was in his car before Ray could get out half of his reply. "Damn
it, J.P.! What are you going to do if they ask for their merchandise
back?" Vecchio was already at the passenger side door and climbing in. 

 "Oh, I'll give it to them. But first, I want that shit out of my office!"
 

 On the way to James' office, Ray started to tell him about what he'd
learned regarding the case of the murdered security guard. "I think
Dewey's a pretty screwed up person, but I don't think he'd do anything to
jeopardize his chance in the limelight." 

 Pace shook his head. "I can't believe my good luck. At least where that
issue is concerned. Now, however, I got a whole new host of worries to
contend with." He glanced at the Detective. "I want to thank you for
helping me, Ray. I never could've done all this without you. I owe you
tons, buddy." 

 Ray put his hand on James shoulder, sensing it tighten under his touch.
Vecchio couldn't argue with it. Pace was getting really stressed about the
present situation. "No problem. I'll be alright, James. It's still early
in the game. We'll figure something out." 

 "You're right." Pace said sarcastically. "Today, I am cleared of killing
somebody. Tomorrow, I get to get cleared of selling drugs. Why is this my
life?" 

 I know the feeling, J.P., more than you think.  

 The potted plant was probably breathing easier, Ray noted, being free of
the drugs, if still shaken up from being manhandled twice in such a short
time. 

 "You want me to take it?" asked Vecchio. 

 "That won't be necessary. I have a place to stash it all picked out." 

 "Where are you going to put it?" 

 "I'm not telling you." 

 Ray blinked. "Why not?!" 

 Pace patted the dirt back down into the pot, then snapped the lock on a
small metal box which contained the tiny bags of heroin. He stood, tugging
his gloves off. "Because, Ray. You're too involved in this as it is.
Should whoever come looking for this stuff, then I will be the one
responsible for telling them where it is. That way, you have no ethical or
professional dilemma to wrestle with, should IA or the DA come calling." 

 The Detective smiled, grateful J.P. was being so thoughtful, especially
after the spat they'd just had. "Now, we have to find out who set you up
and connect them with Parks." 

 Pace sat in his chair behind his desk. "I thought Fraser 'checked me
out'. Won't that be enough to exonerate me?" 

 Ray rolled his eyes. "You know that won't be enough, J.P. And, by the
way, you could say thank you for Fraser gathering the evidence showing
you're innocent." 

 Pace stubbornly turned his head. He planted a fist in his cheek and
propped his elbow on the table. It was remarkable how he looked like a
large version of Ray's young nephew, Reggie. "Don't you think you're a
little old to pout?" 

 Still looking away, J.P. asked, very quietly, his voice shaky, "Is what
he found enough to convince you?" 

 Vecchio cocked his head. He didn't recall James being this...emotional
about such things. They'd been beat cops, for crying out loud! They'd seen
a ton of stuff that would make the Average Joe faint. Why was Pace getting
all choked up over Ray's opinion of him? Immediately the Detective
grimaced. 

 He's not upset over you, you dolt! He's scared of being arrested! 

 "Why do you think I'm here, James? If I thought you were guilty, I sure
as Hell wouldn't help you hide evidence." 

 Still distraught, J.P. looked at his friend and said, "I just worry about
you, that's all." 

 Ray blinked. "Me? Pace, you don't have to concern yourself with me. I
know I got problems, but you wringing your hands at my troubles ain't
gonna' help any." 

 "That's what friends do, Ray." 

 He couldn't argue, seeing how guilty he was when it came to pointlessly
fretting over Fraser. "Yeah, I guess so." 

 Pace glanced at Ray. "Now what?" 

 Vecchio shook his head. "I gotta' go. My family is getting ready to
settle down for the night and it's gonna' take more than Benny to get them
all taken care of." 

 "How do you mean?" 

 That's when Ray realized Pace knew nothing about Ma being in the
hospital. He swore he'd keep the explanation brief, since exhaustion was
taking hold. Also, right now, there was just no way Ray could look into
those who set up J.P. He'd had a far too exciting twenty four hours and
his mind was gelatin. It would be best to start fresh in the morning,
after checking in on the family, of course. "Ma's in the hospital. She had
a heart attack and they're keeping her for a few days for some more
tests." 

 "Oh, that's right. Someone told me that at the precinct." 

 The spikes of adrenalin from shock, fear and anger were now just annoying
and Ray was done with them. He'd entertain this one and then that was it
for the night. "You knew?! You had already found out Ma was sick and you
went off on me anyway?!" 

 James raised his eyebrows. "I was mad." he said matter-of-factly.
"Sorry." 

 "You're sorry?! Okay, that's it, I'm going home!" He headed for the door.


 "Ray!" 

 He turned. "What?!" 

 "Tell the-...I mean, tell Fraser I said thanks." 

 Pace was sitting there, shrunken in on himself, arms crossed on his
knees, fearful and vulnerable, almost like an upright fetal position.
Vecchio couldn't help but notice how it was so unlike his usually goofy
friend. 

 "It'll be alright, James. We'll figure it out. Everything will be okay." 

 J.P. stared into space. "Good night, Ray. I'll see you tomorrow." 

 Ray couldn't think of anything to say he thought would help, so he left. 


 Ray wasn't even sure what time it was once he made it back to the Vecchio
household. All he did know was that his appetite was finally kicking in,
after not eating nearly all day. The worse part was, he wasn't sure he
could stay awake long enough to consume the nourishment his stomach was
demanding. 

 Vertical is overrated. 

 The cold outside was still, like a heavy layer of frozen air covered the
city. He made his way in and, luckily, the house was just as quiet. Most
of the lights were out and the kitchen was spotless. The dishes were done
and the Detective smiled, thinking Benny would never leave it any other
way. That's when he heard his lover's voice coming from the living room.
Taking off his coat and hanging up his keys, Ray kicked off his shoes. The
rug soaked into his sore, stockinged feet. He removed his suit jacket and
caught a slight chill from the dampness of his shirt. 

 He came into the doorway of the front room and saw the Mountie from
behind. He was sitting in a large chair, reading from a book. As Ray got
closer, he noticed little Reggie, his nephew, was curled up next to the
Canadian, as Fraser read to him from the book, "The Chronicles of Narnia".
The cop stopped, not wanting to bother them. Instead, he leaned against
the doorframe and listened, as the Constable's melodious voice floated
around the room. And, for a moment, he could see how one could hear a
person's voice, but not the words. It was the most calming, tranquil
sound. The surging love inside him was cut short by a huge growl coming
from his lower torso. He quietly laughed and went back into the kitchen to
make himself a some food. He was putting the plate into the microwave when
Fraser came into the kitchen. 

 "Hello, Ray." 

 "Hey, you!" 

 "Little Reggie wouldn't go to bed until you got home, so I read him a
story. He was out before you walked in, but I wanted to make sure he was
deep asleep before I tucked him in." 

 Vecchio came over, took Fraser into his arms and hugged him tight. "You
have been wonderful, you know that?" He melted when strong Mountie arms
encased him. 

 There was silence, then, "I'm trying, Ray." 

 It was a indirect mention of their problems and how they were trying to
handle them. Ray was also mute for a second before replying. "I can see
that, Benny. We just...gotta' keep at it." He kissed the Canadian's neck.
"It'll be alright, as long as we both want it to work." 

 Fraser pulled back. "You know I'll give you anything you want. You know
that, don't you?" 

 "Of course I know that, Benny. And I can't even begin to mention how much
it helps, you being here at the house." 

 "That is required." Fraser said earnestly. "I mean you can have what you
want as well." 

 The fatigue had obviously fried his brain, since he couldn't make sense
of the Constable's rambling. "I'm sorry, Benny, but..." He brook into a
giant yawn. "I gotta' eat and pass out or I'll never get up for work
tomorrow. And I MUST go in. Talk about a loaded day tomorrow! Although I
don't think it will be as adventurous as today was." 

 "So, how did everything turn out tonight?" As Ray ate, Fraser sat across
from him. 

 "I really don't have enough time and energy to explain it all, but let's
just say Pace has a new list of worries to contend with, even though his
other problems are over." 

 "At least it's something." 

 "Right. My thing is, how I'm going to investigate Laron Parks, keep the
house on track and work full time at the precinct." 

 "You know, of course, I'll help you." 

 Ray placed his hand over Fraser's arm. "I really appreciate that, Benny.
We're gonna' need it."	

 "Can you talk a little clearer? I don't speak idiot!" 

 As expected, the 'idiot' on the other end hung up. Ray slammed the phone
down, successfully knocking over a pile of files onto the floor. Vecchio
watched at first, unsure if he really wanted to pick them up, but after a
few seconds, he tried to catch as many as he could. He stood, tossing what
he had in his arms back on his desk and sighed at the mound. 

 It's not like I have time to figure it out anyway. 

 The Mountie looked at him and Ray glanced back, immediately guilt ridden.
"What? The guy was an idiot!" 

 "I didn't say a word, Ray." The Constable kept looking through the file
in his hands. 

 Vecchio grimaced, sat back down and tried to deal with the case in front
of him. "I really need to get in contact with the beat cop who first came
on the scene for this incident. It's already late afternoon and the name
of the officer on the report doesn't match anyone at that precinct. Oh,
Christ! If I don't find him soon, it will be another case to deal with all
over again tomorrow." 

 And another day I can't help Pace. 

 He was hit by the strangest sense of muted recollection. An odd awareness
opened in his head, like someone was whispering a rehearsed line he'd
blanked on, but he still couldn't fully hear the words. Yet, it was
important information, whatever it was. It was a bizarre sensation, to
have one's mind made clear for an empty memory. Fraser's words brought him
back from his vital non-thinking. 

 "Wait...wait a minute." Fraser shuffled through some papers. "Officer
Clifton? I spoke with him at the 32nd Precinct, not the 23rd, as we were
initially told. He'll be here in a couple of days to meet with us." 

 "Really? Oh, that is great news. At least we know where is he is." Ray
relaxed somewhat. "Now, I can concentrate on the other five fires that
need to be put out." 

 "Just do what you always do, Ray. Put your head down and go case by case,
according to priority. It's a formula that's worked for you in the past." 

 "That's not including the house, Fraser! Or James!" 

 "Doesn't matter, Ray and you know that. Just do what you know needs to
get done first." 

 Ray stared at him. Damn the Mountie for being right. 

 Between caring for his family, being at the station, visiting his mother
in the hospital and trying to dig up dirt on Mr. Parks, Ray was running
totally ragged. He was having a hard time concentrating on anything, since
his thoughts were so scattered. He found himself not being able to
complete a full sentence without starting another one with a different
ending. By the third time he spoke, he'd forgotten what he was trying to
say in the first place. His phone was also a constant interruption, and
not just the one on his desk, but his cell phone as well. Frannie suddenly
believed it was necessary to give Ray hourly updates on their mother and
the events going on at the house. Some of it was needed, like the location
of Ma's credit card and did the light bill get paid. Yet, he was having a
hard time caring that the laundry soap powder was missing and that no one
bought cooking oil. He looked at the calendar and shook his head. 

 Five days and I've barely been able to scratch the surface of the case
against Mr. Parks. Benny's had some better luck than me. Not much, though.


 Fraser had been busy as well, juggling the Consulate, the Vecchio's and
helping with Ray's other detective work. They had to be careful looking
into Laron Parks, for fear of arousing suspicions with Louise St. Laurent.
The last thing Ray wanted was for her to get wind of J.P.'s existence, let
alone his involvement with Michael Perkinson, despite the fact it was
nothing illegal. He blinked, not understanding why the case file in front
of him had nothing to do with Parks, Pace or Perkinson. Upon realization,
he let his head fall to the desk. And once his cell phone rang again, he
covered his head with his hands. Face down, he answered the call.
"Vecchio!" 

 "Ray? It's Frannie." 

 He couldn't help but let the irony show. "Really?" 

 "Where's Fraser? He was supposed to be here half an hour ago." 

 The Detective had to restrain himself. He was NOT going to allow his
family to pull them both, Mountie and cop alike, into shreds. Cupping his
forehead to ease the pulsing pain, he said, "He's here, Fran. I need him
to help me at work. I left a message with Maria. Didn't you get it?" 

 "I did, Ray, but she's gone now and I have to go pick up Tony Jr. and
Anita from school and I'm already late. That will leave Reggie and Rosalee
alone!" 

 The phone on his desk rang. Before the Mountie could touch it, Ray picked
it up, hung up, then took it off the hook. "Can't you take them with you?"


 "You know how they are about riding in the car. If they don't have to pee
or potty, they throw up. But hey, if you want to clean it up, that's fine
with me." 

 Oh, God, I so did not need to hear that. "Look, Frannie...please. I can't
help you right now. I am swamped beyond belief. Figure something out for
now and...and...I'll cook tonight." He cringed as the words came out. 

 "You will?! All dishes included?!" 

 Should've seen that coming. The dishwasher was working, yet still
scraping and arranging and shelving all the dishes for every meal that day
was not a fun task. 

 "Dishes included. But NOT the mess in the car, should there be one. Got
it?" 

 "Got it! I'll let you know if anything else happens. 'Bye, Ray." 

 "I'm sure you will." As he hung up, the tiny hill of files fell off his
desk again. Had there been no one in the room, Vecchio probably would've
cried a little. "No, Benny, please...don't pick them up, just let them be
for a moment." He went back to reading the file he'd been trying to read
for the last half an hour, when Elaine came into his view. "Looks like you
two are pretty worn out." 

 "Yeah, it's been a tad busy around here, as you can see." 

 "How's your mother?" 

 "She's...okay. She said something about her tests are done, so I gotta'
talk to her about that." 

 Well, at least you'll have good company for a late lunch today." 

 "What do you mean?" Fraser asked. 

 "I said at least you'll have good company for a late lunch. When is he
coming back this way?" 

 Irritated, Ray asked, "Who are you talking about?" 

 She looked at him a little confused. "Your friend, J.P. He was here not
long ago. I saw him on the third floor." 

 Ray's heart sank. That was where Narcotics was located. Vecchio was out
of his seat and in her face, the words coming in a rush. "Did he say
anything? Was he under arrest? What did he look like?" 

 Elaine reared back, her eyes wide. "No...he didn't say anything, nor did
he look under arrest. He was talking to a man in a grey suit and glasses,
a very lawyer-type of guy. That's...all I know." As Ray considered her
words, she said, "Ray, is everything okay? Is James in some kind of
trouble?" 

 Her words brought him back to the present. "Not if I can help it. Thanks,
Elaine." He came closer and kissed her cheek. He turned to Fraser. "Wait
here, Benny?" 

 "Of course." 

 He left the room and hit the steps, taking two at a time.  

 "Louise! Where is J.P.?" 

 She squinted at him. "Who?" 

 Vecchio shook his head and corrected himself. "James Pace. You and
Narcotics were talking to him." 

 She looked leerily at him. "He left a short while ago. Why? Do you know
him?" 

 Ray glanced around as she spoke. "You could say that. Did you see which
way he went?" 

 "He didn't say. Wait a minute, didn't you say you thought you had some
information against Mr. Parks?" 

 "Well, it turned out I was wrong. I don't have much info, at least not
yet." 

 Her lips curved downward. "Uh-huh. Right. Okay, Vecchio. First it was
Fraser and now this guy. You keep protecting those kinds of people and you
wonder why others think your gold shield is tarnished." 

 The Detective considered a thousand rebuttals, but none were
public-friendly. Frustrated, he blurted, "What is wrong with you? Haven't
you ever believed in somebody or trusted anyone?" 

 "I hardly ever do, Detective. It's how I keep my job." 

 "That's your reasoning? 'It's your job?'" 

 "That's right." 

 "Do us a favor then, okay? Get a career change, something a little less
vicious, like clubbing baby seals. They'll appreciate your passion." 

 He walked off before she had a chance to verbally flay him alive.  

 Vecchio could not find James anywhere in the building. It was a huge
relief when Ray called J.P.'s apartment and actually got an answer. Still,
Pace wouldn't talk on the phone. Ray would have to go see him to find out
what had happened. After completing as much police work as possible, the
Detective kissed Fraser goodbye, then went to see Pace at his place. In
the Riv, on the way over, Vecchio felt that odd familiarity again, like
someone was tapping him on the shoulder, regarding something he'd
forgotten and it was just below his awareness. It was baffling, not
remembering what his subconscious was trying to tell him. The cop went up
in the elevator and walked into the overly warm loft. Taking off his coat,
he said, "Jeez, J.P.! Why do you keep it ten degrees hotter than Hell in
here?" 

 Pace cracked some ice into a glass. He cheerfully said, "I like it warm!
Keeps you all snug and toasty. In speaking of toasts, you want a drink?"
He turned down the radio and TV. James was drinking the Bailey's Irish
Cream that Ray had purchased for him for Christmas. And it seemed by the
other man's exuberance, Pace wasn't on his first glass. 

 "No, I can't." Ray said. "I gotta' get back home to help with dinner, so
I'll have to take a rain check." There was a good pause before Ray asked,
"Why were you talking to narcotics, James?" 

 Pace walked away, his movements tight, his voice full of mock ease. "Oh,
nothing big. Narcotics and the D.A.'s office wanted to talk to me about
Michael Perkinson. Seems they know he was one of Laron Parks mules. They
were just asking some general questions." 

 "'General questions', my ass! You know what they suspect! Why didn't you
call me?" 

 Pace abruptly snapped, "Because I didn't want you involved! Did you ever
think maybe I don't want you dragged down with me?" 

 "James, I'm way past involved! It's a bit late for me to just tell you
'good luck' about this!" 

 Pace hunched his shoulders even closer, slugging down the entire glass of
alcohol. "Well, don't worry about it. I called my lawyer and he's helping
me get it all straightened out." 

 Ray had a small mental stroke. "Damn it, Pace! This is not a parking
violation or a even a D.U.I.! They will hang you out to dry for this!" 

 It bothered the cop the way Pace refused to meet his eyes, as well as the
forged joy his friend kept up. "I know that, Ray, and I appreciate your
concern! Really, I do. But you have to admit, there's nothing more either
one of us can do about it tonight." 

 Vecchio sighed. "I guess. Look, if they call again, I want to be there
with you when they ask you anything, you got that?" 

 "Sure, officer! I promise. Look, why don't we order a pizza? It won't
take long and I know place who has the most gorgeous delivery guy." 

 "No can do, dear. I must cook dinner at the house tonight and that will
be an ordeal beyond my tolerance." 

 He turned to leave and made it a few steps towards the elevator. There
was the smallest, most vulnerable, deeply wounded voice behind him.
"Please don't go." 

 Ray crinkled his brow and turned to face Pace. J.P. was standing there,
looking like the most lost little boy on the planet. His eyes were welling
and his arms were tightly gripping his chest. He appeared ready to toss
himself out the nearest window. "Pace? Are you alright?" 

 J.P. looked away, his voice cracking. "You know, it's the one thing that
stayed with me. The stories they would tell...I couldn't...fully
understand why it would freak me out. That is until...she told me what it
all meant. It became clear when Michael Perkinson's mother put it into
perspective for me." 

 Softly, Ray asked, "What do you mean?" 

 James eyes were unfocused, like he was seeing what he was saying, which
was even more frightening. "The guys who work for me. There aren't many,
but some would talk about what it was like in jail. Oh sure, some had
caused trouble or been messed with or watched other guys get raped or
stabbed." He poured himself some more Irish Creme and took a big gulp.
"But even when none of that happened, when their time behind bars wasn't
horrible, they still came out different. Harder, I guess. That's when she
told me about Michael, how he came out a different person. Quieter...I
don't know." He came from around the island in the kitchen and said, "I
can't stand the silence anymore. It never used to bother me. Now, I keep
the TV and the radio on all the time. I can't sit still for fear I'll keep
thinking about it." Suddenly he dissolved into tears, but kept on talking.
"I don't want to go to prison, Ray! I finally like who I am! How many
people can say that about themselves?! Christ, I...I just-" 

 "James, calm down!" Ray implored. "You haven't even been arrested yet." 

 "Oh, that's something to look forward to! Look, the cuffs are on the
master now!" 

 "Your private life won't even be a factor, J.P.! Come-" 

 Pace whirled, yelling, "The HELL it won't! I saw the look on your face
when I said I like to see men submit! How the Hell do you think twelve
straight people are going to react when they slap Keith on the stand?! You
remember Keith, right, my slave slash boyfriend?!" J.P. walked away, arms
in the air, spilling the Irish Creme. "Oh and can't you just wait 'til
they trot out all the evidence you and Fraser found...and maybe even what
Parks can dredge up?! But, hey! I'm sure a perverted faggot like me will
get justice, right, Ray? They'll listen to you and the Mountie and dismiss
everything else and find me innocent, right?" The glass was thrown in the
sink. The shattering made Ray jump. Pace let his head hang down, supported
by his stiff arms "Right." he growled darkly. 

 Ray came forward, put his hand on the other man's shoulder, making him
turn around. Vecchio wrapped his arms around Pace, who sank into him,
losing all anger and rage, turning it into weeping. He sobbed
uncontrollably, into Ray's neck, while the cop held him and whispered
words of encouragement. 

 There was a subtle tickling in Ray's mind, like before, as if he'd found
a scrawled message on his desk. The critical blankness came to him again,
the unsure reminder he didn't fully understand. Only this time, the other
half of the puzzle was instantly defined. While he had his friend in his
arms, the blurry alarm, the distorted noise, the staged appointment he
couldn't fully make out came to him in one simple sentence. 

 He's innocent. 

 Ray's eyes shot open and he froze. His desire for this man, which had
been bottled up, sealed shut and had taken a backseat, was violently
shaken awake. Vecchio had been successful in turning off his lust when he
thought the man was evil. Now, J.P. was a good friend in need...the most
alluring kind of lover for this cop. Ray's longing was seconded with
intense guilt. A wounded conscience emerged from his disloyalty, and it
helped him simply console J.P. as his crying slowed. "I promise you,
James. We'll do everything we can to help." 

 James backed up slowly, his head still down. He looked at Ray, his face a
deep red, his eyes and cheeks wet with tears, his mouth a little
slack...and Vecchio's heart thudded at the beautiful, emotionally maimed
sight. 

 "Get out." 

 Ray recoiled at the command. "What?" 

 Pace roughly backed away. "I'm fine now! Just leave, okay?" He made his
way over to the cabinet and pulled down another glass, making his way
towards the Bailey's. 

 The Detective looked at his friend. Ray simply could not stay. He had to
get home to make dinner or all Hell would brake loose. "I have to go,
Pace. I can't stay." 

 "Duh, hello?! Didn't I just say 'get out'?" 

 "I'll leave...and I won't come back at two in the morning under one
condition." 

 "What's that?" 

 "Stop drinking." 

 "What? Why?" 

 "You've had enough and you're going to feel crappy tomorrow anyway." He
put on is coat. "Do it for me, okay?" 

 Reluctantly, Pace sat the bottle down. "Fine, okay. If that's what you
want." 

 "I do. I'll call you tomorrow." 

 "Sounds good." 

 As Ray made his way into the elevator, Pace said, "It's been along while
since I had...someone to look out for me. Thanks, Ray." 

 "Anytime, James. You know that. I gotta' run. See you."  

 "Detective Vecchio. You have stated, under oath, that you were simply
trying to arrest my clients because you thought they were the notorious
crime gang known as The Trio. Is that correct?" 

 Ray leaned closer to the microphone. "Yes, it is." 

 "Can you tell the court how you knew for a fact the suspects you were
trying to apprehend were, in fact, the Trio?" 

 Ray shifted. He knew where this line of questioning was going. "I was
told by Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. He'd
contacted me that morning and said there was a vehicle pursuit in
progress. The occupants of that car had stated to a patrol cop they were
The Trio." 

 "So, the patrol cop told the Constable what the occupants in the car
said?" 

 Vecchio tried to subdue his anger. "No, the patrol cop radioed back to
the station that he'd had a gun pulled on him by the person in the car who
said they were the Trio. We decided to take the threat seriously." 

 The defense attorney snorted and cupped his head in staged confusion.
"Okay, wait a minute. Just to be clear. You jumped into a high speed chase
on the word of a Canadian police officer, who has no jurisdiction here in
the states, who called you by phone, after a cop told the precinct he'd
came across the car with The Trio. Is that right?" 

 "Yes, that is right." 

 "That information passed through a lot of hands. Why did you find it
reliable?" 

 "I had no reason not to." 

 "Were you the investigating officer for this case?" 

 "Objection!" Louise snapped while standing. "Goes to relevance, your
honor." 

 Finally, Louise! About time you said something! 

 "I'm trying to establish motive for this witness, your honor." 

 " I'll allow it, but keep it brief, Counselor. Objection overruled. " 

 "Please answer the question, Detective." 

 Oh, thanks for all the help, everyone who's here for justice. "No, I was
not." 

 "Who was the investigating officer?" 

 "It was Detectives Jack Huey and Thomas Dewey." 

 "Then why did you join the chase?" 

 Ray let his sarcasm slip. "To help catch the fugitives. I can say it
again and slower, if you like." 

 The Judge said, "Detective! Keep your answers to the point." 

 Without missing a beat, the defense attorney said, "You and your, um,
'partner', Constable Fraser have had your police work praised in the
papers in the past. Isn't it true you were simply trying to hog to
spotlight of the press and the kudos of your superiors? " 

 Vecchio could see Louise tense. It was all that kept him from snapping
back. "Not at all. That wasn't our intention." 

 "'Our' intention?" the attorney echoed. "Were there others along with you
in the car?" 

 Ray mentally cursed himself. He'd broken a rule for testifying and that
was providing more information than what was asked for. "Yes." he sighed.
There was no use in lying. The papers had splashed every detail of the
event across it's pages for two days. It was the reason the case got such
a speedy trial. "There was myself, Constable Fraser and Mr. James Pace,
the CEO of the mall they were targeting." 

 To make matters worse, all four members were being tried separately. The
kid who shot at the cops was sent to Juvenile Hall, just barely making it
from being tried as an adult. The other three, for whatever bizarre legal
reason, mitigated individual court proceedings. Louise tried to explain
it, but Ray had little patience for "legalese." All he did know was that
it was hogging a lot of his time to tell the same story over and over. 

 "Oh, that's convenient. Everyone was there, just in case there were any
cameras around." 

 "Objection! Your honor, please!" 

 "She's right, Counsel. No more grandstanding. Ask this witness a question
or tell him to step down." 

 "I'm done for now, your honor. May I have permission to recall, if
needed?" 

 "Granted." 

 He was relieved his testimony was over for the time being. It had been
five days since his mom went into the hospital and she was due back that
afternoon. Her extended stay did not bode well for her health. With the
state of healthcare and folks being kicked out of such a medical
institution before they finished the paperwork, it was disturbing they
kept her so long. Since he had to testify, it was up to Fraser and Maria
to bring his mother home. Everyone knew it was something he couldn't help,
but Ray still felt guilty for not being with his mother when she was
released. 

 I just thank God Benny will be there. He's been a saint as of late. 

 The Mountie had taken the day off of work to make sure the house was
extra clean and all was in order before Rosa Vecchio returned. The last
thing the Italian wanted was for his mother to start inventing reasons to
tidy up. It was best, though, his mother cook that evening, since that was
what she did best and it made her feel good to do so. 

 Ray, however, was going to stop by the family home later on that night.
Fraser had a social function at the Consulate, so he simply couldn't help
with Ray's family that evening. The Dragon Lady was finally being promoted
and her superiors decided to congratulate her by having a small
celebration. Fraser's presence was more than expected. Ray would come to
pick him up after the festivities were over. As he left the courthouse, he
took out his cell phone and dialed Pace's apartment. 

 The answering clicked on, "This is Pace. Make peace or shut up.
*:::beep:::*" 

 Ray smiled. "Nice greeting. You there, James?" 

 The phone was picked up. "Hey, Ray! How are you?" 

 "Dandy. I just got out of court and I got a few minutes. Can I come
over?" 

 "You're lucky you caught me. I'm not usually here now. Yeah, stop on by."


 "Sounds good." 

 It didn't take long to reach J.P.'s loft and once inside, Vecchio said
nothing when he saw both the radio and television were turned on. 

 "Hey, man. How ya' been?" said James, as he took a drink from a small
glass. Ray could tell it was bourbon from across the room. 

 It's amazing how pungent something becomes when you stay away from it for
a while. 

 James didn't even try to make physical contact with him, which was
another concern. Usually, when they'd gone a few days without seeing one
another, there was at least a hug or a half-embrace. Ray laughed a little,
thinking he didn't even have time to be horny lately, let alone pine over
Pace, for which he was grateful. That's when he noticed the long features
and lack of spark in the other man's eye. Vecchio furrowed his brow,
thinking there hadn't been anymore word from the D.A.'s office or
Narcotics. So why was James acting like he had a reason to gulp hard
liquor in the afternoon? It was a touchy subject, since he'd already told
his friend to stop drinking once. Ray decided to ask about it later, after
he told of the advancements they'd made on the case against Laron Parks.
Given, they hadn't been able to obtain much information, with everything
and more going on in Ray's life. He had a seat on the sofa and tried to
act interested in the sitcom on the television. 

 "Want a drink?" 

 "No, thanks. How about a soda?" 

 "Sure." Once Pace returned from the kitchen, he said, "So, what did you
stop by for?" 

 Vecchio squinted a little. "Dang, do I have to have an alternate reason
to want to be in your company?" 

 Pace's eyes found the floor. "I was just curious. I didn't mean for it to
come out that way." 

 It was a rather disturbing insight, Vecchio noted, that it was possible
their friendship could become just a series of updates on J.P.'s legal
problems. When he considered his mother was probably home by now, meaning
the entire house was in an uproar, he decided to make an offer. "I got an
idea. Let me get on home to my family in a few minutes, I'll make sure
everything is fine. I got to go pick up Fraser from the Consulate, but
then I'll come back and we'll go out or something, maybe rent a movie.
Sound good?" 

 James' looked amused, but it didn't reach his eyes. "That's not
necessary, Ray." 

 "Well, of course it's not necessary, but I want to. I love my family, you
know that. But they've been a handful these last five days and work hasn't
been kind either. The only thing I can really be thankful for is the fact
that Benny's been there the entire time." 

 A darkness crossed Pace's face, even though he said, "That's really
great, Ray, that's he's there for you." 

 "I'm just saying I think I need a little break. Let me see if Ma is doing
okay. Then, I'll be back, okay?" 

 "Yeah, that's fine. And just to get it out of the way, did you find out
anything?" 

 "We were able to confirm the heroin found in your office was from the
same cut that Michael Perkinson had. Also, Fraser came up with some
possible connections where Parks is getting his business from. There have
been some regular activity on the docks these days from a couple that seem
to have an interest in receiving shipments for a company known to be
associated with Mr. Parks. But that will need to be investigated further."


 "Sounds promising." 

 Vecchio finished his soda, then stood. "Okay, I'll see you in awhile." 

 "I'll be here."  

 "Dinner was great, Ma. Thanks. I gotta' go pick up Benny now." 

 "But, you've barely had a second helping, dear." 

 Ray pushed his plate back, tempted to eat the rest of the succulent
lasagna. But he knew if he ate anymore, he'd be way too full and the pizza
he was having with James would have to be stuck in his ears. "I can't, Ma.
But you know I'll have some for tomorrow at work and I'll certainly have
to give some to Benny. He'll ask about it if I don't." 

 His mother smiled and Ray was glad she was feeling better. He immediately
frowned, recalling the doctor's orders. Somehow, the entire family was
going to have to get his mother to find the will to live. That meant a
better diet, exercise and taking her new heart medicine on time. He shook
his head, seeing even he was having a hard time turning down more of her
food. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" 

 "Of course, Raimondo" 

 He turned to Dief. "Come on, pooch. I know if don't take you with me, Ma
will feed you more than what I got."  

 With the half wolf asleep in the backseat, Ray made his way towards the
Consulate. It was a cold night, but not bitterly so and Ray cursed the
fact the sun went down so early at this time of the year. There was proof
the sun made a person feel better and he grudgingly admitted it had such
an affect on him. Good memories surfaced, of he and Fraser going to dinner
on a hot night, having breakfast in the damp morning and generally having
a case of spring fever. He thought of the bright song nature sang during
such a time, of children playing, the rustle of the wind through leaves
and the and the unfettered cries of the city. He recalled how peaceful it
was to nap with a warm breeze floating in through an open window, the
smell of rain and not having to wear twenty pounds of clothing. He sighed
deeply. 

 At least I can look forward to summer. It's the first time in a long time
I can say that about anything. 

 As he pulled up into a parking space near the Consulate, Dief was
immediately awake, happy at the idea of seeing Fraser. "Yeah, come on,
furslug." 

 The door was locked, but that wasn't a surprise. It was early evening and
all the guests had left, but Turnbull was still there, cleaning up. "Hey,
Rennie. Is Fraser upstairs?" 

 "Good evening, Detective. Yes, Constable Fraser is upstairs, along with
Inspector Thatcher. Um...they asked not to be disturbed, although I
believe that was when they were speaking to Superintendent General Mirk
and he has since left." 

 Ray clinched his eyebrows. "Hrmph. Okay, well, thanks." 

 Vecchio trotted up the steps, with Diefenbaker by his side. He reached
Fraser's office and the door was cracked. His footsteps were muffled by
the carpeting and the thick old walls of the building and he placed his
hand on the door when he heard a low, sultry moan. He stopped,
frozen...numb. He shifted slightly, peered in and almost passed out. Sheer
will kept him up upright, the abhorrent sight before him growing fuzzy. He
heard words permeating his pain-wracked brain. "I'll miss you." Meg said.
Fraser, still holding her in his arms, breathed back, "I'll miss you too."
Her hands curled into his dark hair and they kissed passionately. 

 It was a gunshot. It had to be. Then, he realized getting shot was less
agonizing. Vecchio's heart pounded in sheer agony and he broke out in a
cold sweat. The hurt lodged in his throat and he choked on the grief. His
mind screamed in the negative repeatedly. No, no, no, it can't be, it
can't be! It was sheer cop instinct that made him back off a bit. He stood
there, in the darkened hallway, his world crashing in on itself, a million
questions and emotions flitting through his mind. A fish-eye lens hoarded
his vision, the edges all bend and twisted, the center bulging
insistently. He looked down just in time to see Diefenbaker stride past
him and nose open the door. Fraser turned to see the wolf...and then up
into the appalled eyes of the man he swore he loved. Ray couldn't see Meg.
He'd blocked her out totally. 

 Fraser got out one word. "Ray..." 

 Vecchio turned on his heel and fell into long strides that would carry
him from this place as soon as possible. Behind him, he heard words
getting closer, "Please, Ray! You don't understand! Give me the chance to
explain!" 

 His heart fluttered raw fire, agony shooting through his veins. He
stopped at the top of the steps, swinging to face the Mountie. "Explain
WHAT, Fraser?! I've seen enough. I knew your recent Good Boy efforts were
just a bunch of bull." The worst part was that wasn't what he believed.
He'd thought they were doing better as a couple. He went down the steps
and Fraser snagged his arm. Vecchio swung around and latched onto the
sleeve of his ceremonial, red dress uniform. Hate and rage spiked and it
took all of his will to not grab the Mountie and throw him down the steps.
Ray stood there, immobile, hyperventilating and on the verge of tears.
Vaguely, he could make out the Canadian's voice. 

 "She kissed me, Ray! I...admit I allowed it, but she's leaving. I'll
probably never see her again. Ask her, she'll tell you, you know that." 

 He kept his eyes tightly shut, to the point where bright spots were
exploding in front of him. It was then he realized he was shaking.
Vehement, wrathful tremors racked his form. He'd heard that term, to shake
with anger and he'd even experienced it in the past. But not to this
magnitude, to this point of being physically impaired. He started to sway
back and forth, another primal urge, this time at self comfort. At last,
he found his voice, as hoarse and as cracked as it was. 

 "All I know...is this. I shouldn't have to ask her anything, Benny. I
should be able to ask you and believe what you tell me. I shouldn't have
to worry that you're trying to kill yourself every other day and I
should've have to think of sex with you as a rare event." He viciously
pulled away from the Canadian's grasp. "I won't be home tonight when you
get there. I don't know when I'll be home, period." 

 He fled down the steps, with cruel reality following right behind. "Ray,
please, I know we have problems, but I have been trying, you know that." 

 "Oh, yeah and soon, you'll throw me a pity fuck. This would count as our
usual, 'fight-before-fucking' requirement." 

 Fraser stopped at the bottom of the stairs, clearly caught off-guard.
"What?" 

 Vecchio swung around and snapped, "You know, our mandatory argument
before you see fit to have an orgasm with me in the room and conscious." 

 "Ray, I think you're exaggerating a little." 

 Ray threw up his hands. "I can't do this. Benny, I'm leaving this
building now. And I swear to God, you follow me and I won't be responsible
for my actions." 

 "Ray, please..." 

 Vecchio glanced around wildly. He saw a cart filled with dishes from the
party from earlier that evening. Before he could stop himself, he pushed
the entire thing onto it's side, glass and china and silverware smashing
and scattering everywhere. Food residue oozed onto the once immaculately
polished wood floor. They locked eyes and now it was Fraser's turn to show
some extreme discontent. "Now you'll stay." Ray savagely growled. "I know
you care more about this place, being a Mountie, than anything." 

 The next thing he clearly could make out was the sound of his own shoes
slapping against the stone steps. He got in the car and drove on
autopilot. He must have gone about a mile when he felt tears on his face.
He wasn't even sure when they started to fall. Blubbering like a new borne
babe, he pulled over for fear he'd crash. His head sank onto the steering
wheel, he let out his sorrow. He was so confused, not fully understanding
why he was mad at the Canadian. All feelings were jumbled, madly tossing
about in his head, vying for the lead, horrible sensation. He really
didn't have any other proof that Fraser was lying to him and Meg would
probably back up Fraser's story and life would go on and nothing would be
different. 

 That knowledge ate at his soul and he wasn't sure why. The Mountie had
tried to improve their relationship and he'd succeeded, at least for the
time being. Maybe that was the problem. Perhaps there would only be
temporary respites, but nothing in the way of relief for the long term,
when it came to their love recovering. All he knew was that he was
betrayed - again. And there was grief at the loss of that trust. There was
traumatized outrage as well, seeing Fraser blatantly choose another for
fleshly release. The resentment Ray harbored festered and bubbled and rose
and he was near exploding, as he did now every few weeks when the
Constable refused sex for the millionth time or nearly died unnecessarily.
He only knew they couldn't go on like this. 

 He looked at the clock, realizing he was late going over to Pace's. Ray
flinched, thinking he was once again running over to J.P. after he'd had a
fight with the Mountie. AND the last thing he wanted to do was tell James'
about that fight. He wasn't sure why he didn't want Pace to know, but he
was too emotionally tired to think clearly. Abruptly, he saw J.P.'s place
as a haven. He didn't have to worry about anything there, not even James'
legal woes, since Pace didn't like to hear about them all the time. He
scrubbed at his face with both hands, put the car into gear and with a
squeal of the tires, heading for J.P.'s loft.  

 The food was already there and Pace was watching television as Ray
entered. "Hey, man! How you doing?" 

 "Oh, not too bad." Ray lied. He sat down a couple of bags. "I hope you
don't mind if I spent the night. I brought my own sleepware." 

 Pace stood, faced him and shrugged. "Not at all, you know that." His
voice held humor as he asked, "Have a fight with the Mountie?" 

 Vecchio laughed falsely. "Not really. It was just a typical event we go
through every few weeks." 

 "Well, I just know you usually don't use plastic bags as a suitcase." 

 Ray looked up, surprised at Pace's perceptiveness. He sighed and said,
"Okay, you're right. Look, J,P., don't take this the wrong way, but I
really don't want to talk about it." 

 "Oh, I fully understand, dear. No reason to rehash the crap in your life.
Why don't we do a repeat of the last time you were here? Let's eat a ton
of the food I ordered, we can both take showers and then pass out. I got
Italian this time. And salad." 

 Even thought he'd had Italian earlier, Ray glanced at the table and his
mouth watered. "Wow, that looks great, J.P.! As for later, I rented a
movie. 'Lethal Weapon II'. I know it's cheesy, but it's the first thing I
grabbed. Sound good?" 

 James' smiled, a true, full grin, the first one Ray could honestly say
was genuine. "That sounds great, Ray." The light was back in his eyes, at
least a little. 

 They sat down to the wonderful meal encased in foil pans and Ray could
tell he probably wasn't going to make it through the movie without falling
asleep, but that was okay. It would just be nice to have a conversation
about stuff other than his mom, Benny and work. Vecchio looked up,
intrigued, as James' came over and began filling his plate with
chicken-stuffed rigatoni, complete with a thick tomato sauce and melted
cheese. "James! You don't need to serve me! I'm not an invalid." 

 "But you're a guest." J.P. sincerely replied. "And I always try to do
right by my company." 

 "Fine, then I'll get my drink from the 'fridge." He stood and went
towards the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Pace look
at him sharply, but he did not speak. 

 Ray obtained two sodas and was on his way back to the front room, when he
noticed a heavily encrusted baking dish in the sink. Of course, Ray had
seen enough of his mom's cooking to know when something was homemade. The
theory was complete when he spotted the cook book off to the side. A
crooked smiled formed and he said, "J.P., did you cook this dinner
yourself!?" 

 James rolled his eyes, while lighting the candles. "Okay, yeah, maybe I
did. It was no big deal." 

 Coming closer, he said, "You didn't have to do that! But you did a great
job in the short amount of time you did have." 

 "I was actually kinda' glad you ran a bit late. I was getting rather
panicked for a moment there." 

 Cracking the soda and taking a sip, Ray was about to say all that running
around wasn't necessary, but then he realized it was something James
wanted to do for him. It made him warm and fuzzy, that J.P. would go so
far out of his way, although Vecchio fully didn't understand why. He sat
at the table, across from Pace and abruptly segued the topic. "Did you see
the game the other night?" 

 "Oh, yeah! That was sweet! I just wonder if they're going to keep up this
kind of playing for the rest of the season." 

 "I guess we'll find out." 

 Ray's eyes jerked up when James' hand covered his. J.P. said, "Thanks,
Ray, for being here now. I know you rearranged your plans, even if that
didn't mean all night." 

 He flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, it's no biggie, James. Thanks for
letting me spend the night." 

 "Anytime." 

 "Okay, let's dig in!"	

 Ray decided to take a shower before they began watching the movie and was
glad they both had. Despite all the cheap lines and gross explosions in
the film, he was slipping fast. Tension and weariness made him eat only a
few bites of J.P.'s homemade dinner before he was full. Ray made himself
eat a little more and apologized at not being able to clean his plate.
James told him not worry about it and put it all in the 'fridge. Pace had
poured himself a glass of the Bailey's Irish Creme and was sipping on it
as they watched the movie. Pace had pulled out a small air mattress and
put it on the floor, right beside Vecchio. J.P. was also starting to doze,
waking just long enough to shift some. Lying there, in his Tshirt and
underwear, Ray wished he'd remembered to tell James to turn the heat down.
Pulling the blanket down to his waist, the heat was making him swim and it
traveled down to his groin. Between the fire in his belly and the high
temperature in the loft, it was a heady concoction. He groped himself,
liking the pressure. Well, if I can't have it, I can't at least look.
Impulses turned to action so fast, he couldn't recall turning over to
watch the sleeping object of his desire. James' was also wearing just a
black Tshirt and underwear. Vecchio watch him slowly breathing, his
features softened by slumber. Abruptly, Ray turned away, wished it could
be Benny who was lying there, wanting him, needing him. It caused such a
deep torment, Ray dispatched the image, creating much more supremely,
gratifying details. 

 Now, Pace had his shirt off and was touching himself under the covers.
The blanket was thrown back, as he continued to jerk-off right in front of
Ray. J.P. seemed oblivious Ray was even in the room. Vecchio eventually
thought, Hell, if he doesn't know or care, why should I? He began watching
his friend, tossing off his own covers and joining in the one-man-show
performance. The scene shifted and a fantasy ensued, one he'd cropped up
in the past involving Benny, Pace and him. They were both breaking down
the Mountie's will, soiling him up, making him feel so good, he'd want sex
all the time and never could get enough. 

 "Ray." Someone roughly shook his leg. "Ray, wake up, you're having a bad
dream. Ray!" 

 "What!? What the Hell?!" Vecchio snapped awake, his heart thumping. It
took a few seconds for it all to come back to him. He was at James' place
and he'd fallen asleep while watching the movie. And regardless of what
his dream-state told him, Pace was still clothed and not being an
exhibitionist. Fraser certainly wasn't here, naked and begging for more.
The worst part about it quickly came into view and that was it was Ray
who'd kicked off the covers and was still gripping his own crotch,
complete with a rapidly shrinking hard-on. Mortification slowly spread
through him, his head falling back, his eyes closing. "Oh, Jesus, you
can't be serious!" He sat up and snatched the blanket around his waist,
not wanting to even look at James. 

 "What?!" James asked, supposedly genuinely curious. "Did you wet the
bed?" 

 Grumbling, Ray said, "It might have been better." His lust was throbbing
and it wasn't ebbing. 

 James pushed his chin out. "Are you serious? You're embarrassed because
your hand found it's natural resting place during sleep? Don't feel bad,
man. Hell, I would walk around with my hand in my pants, if I could." 

 Ray winced, thinking, That was so not what I needed to hear. 

 "Come on, come here." James got up on his knees, behind Ray, his warm
hands massaging the cop's stiff neck. "Just relax and you'll go back to
sleep in a minute." 

 Oh, boy. If this isn't a cliche... 

 Vecchio's head was down, his eyes closed, his heart beating madly. He
could feel Pace's body heat against him. James thumbs were now pressing
along his upper back, his fingers curled around Ray's shoulders. J.P.
shifted...and Ray's eyes shot open. He wasn't sure. He really couldn't
tell. Had he just felt James' erection against him? A sneaky thrill
tickled his stomach, the idea, the possibility, making him hunger, his
entire being hungry and needy and primal. It caused his sight to blur, his
limbs to shake and go numb. He saw no reason to deny any longer what he
knew was a losing battle. His heart was frantic and breathing erratic.
Vecchio lifted his right hand, unbelieving, ashamed of deeds not yet done,
and lightly took hold of James' right hand. Ray brought it forward, and
before Pace could speak, he placed a light kiss on the palm, followed by a
series of light kisses over the area. A sharp intake of breath could be
heard behind him, followed by the breathy appeal, "Ray...what are you
doing?" 

 The cop's mind and body was yelling, screaming for an alleviation, a
respite. The din helped drown out his chiding conscience. Ray murmured
against the fleshy ball of Pace's hand, "What does it look like?" 

 It took a minute, with J.P.'s hand still getting attention, for Pace to
construct a reply. 

 "Are you sure?" 

 Vecchio's cock twitched at the question, answering for him. Letting his
friend's fingertips to skim over his lips, Ray said, "I'm sure." 

 He felt Pace leaned down and a warm kiss was placed behind Ray's left
ear. Ray turned in that direction, hissing in pleasure. A warm tongue
licked his ear and Ray let his head fall back, causing James to kiss down
his neck. Chills rippled his skin and Ray wanted to lift his hands to
touch his friend, but he could barely move. Guilt frayed the edges of his
movements and he could hardly bring himself to reciprocate their lusty
dance. 

 Pace suddenly slid down and around to face Ray, pulling him into a warm
embrace on the mattress on the floor. Both on their knees, hot hands slid
up and down Ray sides, kissing his neck and rubbing his back. It was so
odd for Ray to be out of the drivers seat in a sexual setting, to be
seduced instead of being an active party. It was odd, but nonetheless
welcome, to finally have someone want him enough to be brave in the sack.
And this was James', his friend, the one who liked it rough and liked it
often and liked it so many different ways. His heart hitched, banging
harder in his chest, so much so, he almost missed what J.P. was
whispering. 

 "It's okay, Ray...let go...you don't have to restrain yourself...you hear
me?...let it out..." 

 Passion erupted and he kissed him fully, his tongue fighting it's way in.
Vecchio tasted the syrupy, sweet, caramel residue of the Irish Creme and
he made an effort to lap it up. He licked James' neck and ear, getting
dizzy off the clean, fresh scent of soap and J.P.'s natural smell. Vecchio
came closer, his lips seizing James' throat and Ray gave in, full abandon.


 "You...are so...damned...hot, you know that?" he whispered against his
mouth. It was intoxicating, to say what he'd been thinking and watching
and wanting for weeks. 

 James chortled. "You wouldn't believe me if I said the same, but it's
true." He slipped off Ray's Tshirt, ducked his head lower to bury his face
in Ray's chest hair. "You...drive me crazy." 

 It made his head swim, that he could have that kind of effect on anyone.
Need spiked as a warm mouth covered a nipple and sucked hard. Another
craving was indulged as he sunk his fingers into that rich, dark hair and
pressed James' face closer. "Yes, oh, God yes." 

 J.P. pushed him back a little so he could suckle the other nipple. Jolts
flitted through Ray as a firm lips glided over his hard peaks. Desperation
surged in him and Vecchio grabbed James shirt, pulling it over his head,
ripping it a little. "Sorry." he said once they came together again. 

 "It's okay." Pace said. "I know the feeling." 

 Ray tried to speak, but Pace's hand found it's way into his boxers. It
gripped the straining erection, causing all reason to flee. Ray gripped
the other man's shoulders, bathing in the drunken sensation of being
stroked and teased. 

 "You're shaking. You like that?" 

 "Yes...don't stop..." 

 "Let's take these off." 

 Underwear was hastily removed and Ray took the opportunity to cup his
friend's bugling sac. It was warm and thick and his testicals were drawn
up. James sucked in his breath and tossed his head back, eyes closed. Ray
continued to jerk him, raining kisses down his neck. A low grumble came
from Pace, who grabbed Ray and threw him down on the mattress, proceeding
to lick up from his chest up to his mouth, ending in a bruising kiss. He
climbed on top of Ray, meshing their erections together and thrust
repeatedly, his face buried in Vecchio's neck. Ray pushed up and turned
them both over, so that he was staring down at Pace. Warm hands took him
by surprise, sliding up his chest and tweaking his nipples. Ray shivered
and aligned his cock close to James' hardness. He loved the flat muscles
of J.P.'s stomach that massaged his slippery length. Feather light touches
on his back made Ray arch, James fingertips creating terrible, wonderful
chills. 

 "Let's go to my room." 

 Vecchio stopped, looking down at him questioningly. 

 "My bed is bigger." he answered. Pace raised up, to his knees and
extended an inviting hand towards his fellow Italian. "Come with me."
James hair was tousled and he was shirtless and his lips were plumb from
kissing. Ray watched as his own hand slipped into Pace's and felt the
pressure of being hoisted up. He followed, first on his knees and then
right behind J.P., who headed for his bedroom. Ray's legs were wobbly and
his mind was cursing him and he kept his eyes shut, as if that would make
everything alright. The track lighting was off and the room only had a
small window with the blinds drawn. The streetlight was their only
illumination, as Pace turned to meet Ray once he entered the room. His arm
slipped around Ray's waist and he pulled him close, their lips nearly
touching, letting his fingers skim over Ray's face, cup his cheek and let
Vecchio feel the evidence of his arousal against his thigh. Ray ground his
leg against it, his arms gripping Pace's narrow waist. J.P. took hold of
Ray by his upper arms and they both fell back onto the huge bed. Pace
scooted up and Ray moved to meet him. J.P. was speaking again and it took
a minute for Ray to hear over the roar of blood in his ears. "What do you
want, Ray? Tell me what you need...anything, you can have anything..."
That deep, rumbling voice, spoken as such, like a lover, like Ray had
wanted to hear for so long, nearly made him wince in excitement. "You want
me to suck you?" Pace asked. A piercing tingle all the way to his groin
made Ray almost double over at the idea. 

 Oh no, -that- would be a bad idea. Oh, Hell, Vecchio, be honest with him!
"Um... that would be great, James, except I'm pretty close as it is.
However..." He pushed Pace back and whispered, "Let me do the honors." 

 J.P.'s voice was rather strained when he complied. "Be my guest." He laid
back, but took a second to put more pillows behind him, to prop himself up
more. To Ray, it was a curious gesture at first, but then his stomach
fluttered when he realized James wanted to watch him at work. Total
instinct took over and Ray found himself luxuriating in the taste, texture
and feel of Pace's torso under his wanton mouth. He nosed his nipples and
suckled them, scrapping his teeth a bit. He licked at the sparse chest
hair, loving the heated breathing, the hitched panting he knew he was the
cause of. Another desire came true when he licked in the small navel, his
lust surging when James laid a tender hand on the back of his neck. He
paused for a moment, to savor the tiny treasure tail, letting his lips
flirt with the area. He heard words that were growled, said
impatiently...as a command. 

 "Get to it." 

 Hair all over prickled and a distinct exhilaration tickled his groin. He
smiled. It felt pretty good, Ray noted, having made a master give in to
demanding. "Eager, Pace?" He let his lips trail over Pace's waiting
stiffness. 

 "Just a bit." Now the voice was more normal, just tense. 

 Ray reached the top and his heart slammed repeatedly, as he intimately
tasted his friend for the first time. He gently suckled off the pre-cum
and swallowed it. The entire idea of this being taboo, forbidden and
downright wrong, immediately became the most powerful aphrodisiac. He let
it slip into his mouth, all rationale gone. J.P. wasn't helping, with the
blessed praise he was heaping on Ray. "Dear God, yes! Oh, Hell, yes!" The
tone dropped to a contorted muttering, "I knew this would be good...I knew
you would be..so...damned...good!" 

 That sent Ray even higher, to know he'd been considered like this, to
have Pace mostly likely jerk off to their being together, seeing he was
making a dream come true for this extremely sexy man, made Ray incredibly
flustered. He couldn't have stopped now if he had to. His face dipped
lower and his mouth petted the taut testes and it made James fling open
his legs and push Ray's chin hard into him. "Yes, oh God, do that, do
it...yes." Pace gasped. Ray slid his tongue back up and worked over the
slicked up stiffness. It didn't take much longer for Vecchio to see Pace
was close. In between James' legs, his mouth and soul full of this act,
Ray was inclined to do something that sent his mind reeling. It was an
arrogant, bold move, but that was, after all, the kind of mood he was in
on this night. He shifted, so he was facing James and in the dim light, he
looked up and allowed his eyes to focus...so he could watch himself being
observed. Seeing his friend getting it good was a thousand times better
than any porn film. The sight of utter heaven James' in eyes when he
realized he was being watched, sent ricocheting jolts of pleasure through
Pace and when the come came, he couldn't keep his eyes open. Ray let his
own gaze close as he gulped down the hot cream. Vecchio continued to lowly
rumble into his friend's groin, until James reached down and pulled him
up, until they were locked together. Down to his basest raw, self, Ray
thrust into Pace's stomach, his face curled into James' neck, exhaling
hotly, grappling at J.P.'s arms, he jabbed his hips, his entire body
tight, beyond all conscious thought. That is, until wet palms glided up
his spine, cradling his neck, cupping his butt and wild lips teased his
neck. The excessive stimulation made him scream, "James! Oh, shit! Oh,
God!" Semen spurted and all Ray could do to keep from yelling again was to
clamp down on J.P.'s jugular, sucking hard. 

 Ray collapsed, melting into the sweaty and sticky form beneath him. Pace
began to lightly massage his shoulders, as he had in the beginning. Ray
rolled over, still close to James. "That...was incredible." Vecchio
confessed. 

 "Beyond incredible." Pace corrected. 

 "I'm glad you think so." Ray said, trying to make light of the situation.


 J.P. sighed deeply, then looked at Ray solemnly. "Did you really like
it?" 

 Why on Earth he needed reassurance was beyond Ray, but he provided it
anyway. The Detective caressed his cheek and said, "It was excellent." 

 Pace turned away a bit, seemingly relieved and said, "Good. I'm glad. I
had hoped it would be." 

 He couldn't help it. It stroked his ego like little else. Ray's heart
beat hard again as he asked, "Did you really think of us...recently, I
mean...like this?" 

 James laughed outright. "I think I was making my hand sore for a while
there. It was a great sleep aid, though." 

 Vecchio chuckled at his friend's silliness. "Well, then, you're welcome."


 Pace's eyes jerked up and they were quickly filled with a heated glow.
"Anytime. You hear me? You....just let me know." 

 Ray's eyes dropped, as he tried to ignore the growing pit of guilt in his
stomach. He dwelled on Pace's words. Certainly he doesn't think this can
happen again. But Ray couldn't bring himself to break this magical moment.
"Let's get some sleep." 

 "Agreed." 

 They moved around and distributed cover and pillows equally and the two
naked men lay silently in the dark bedroom for a few minutes. Finally,
Vecchio could hear Pace say, "Oh, Hell." 

 "What's wrong?" 

 "You have my other pillow." 

 "But, you've got a pillow." 

 "But I need something to hold." 

 The statement was so ludicrously romantic, Vecchio almost snorted in
laughter. "Fine, if that's what it will take to get you to sleep, come on
over." 

 Still, something felt...different when Pace curled his arm around Ray and
snuggled closer. As he drifted off to sleep, the cop thought, What the
Hell have I done? END  

End No Sense Is Nonsense VIII by LadyAna: LadyAna5@aol.com

Author and story notes above.