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      	  B:Adieu 
 by Dee Gilles	

 

 Benny & Ray 67 Adieu Dee Gilles Rated R

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 VVVVVV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 VVVVVV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Ben fell asleep with Ray on his mind.

 VVVVVV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 VVVVVV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 VVVVVV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 VVVVVV

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

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

 FINIS	
  

End B:Adieu by Dee Gilles 

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