No Sense is Nonsense V: Bonding Spirit	No Sense is Nonsense V:
Bonding Spirit

 by LadyAna

  

 Author's website: http://ladyana.tripod.com

 Disclaimer: Copyright to Alliance.

 Author's Notes: I apologize for the lateness of this installment. It is
amazing how writing a WIP can take unexpected turns and twists *while*
it's being written. 

 Story Notes: Possible infidelity scenarios(in later segments) Also, I
can't keep track of the spoilers I reveal!

 This story is a sequel to: No Sense is Nonsense IV: The Heart's
Perception 

 

 "Bonding Spirit"
 By LadyAna 

 The horizontal doors separated, revealing a dreary figure. James was
holding a vase in one hand, fresh flowers in the other. "Jeez, man, you
look like you've been volunteering for experimental surgery! Come in and
relax." 

 "Hey, J.P." Ray responded. 

 It was a tad too warm in the large apartment. Lamps were lit everywhere,
illuminating different sections, making the place look larger than ever.
The sound was turned down on the televison, yet the stereo was on, playing
soft music. Ray made his way to the huge, grey couch, trying his best not
to flop down on the thick furniture. He laid his head back, sighing deeply
as the plushness folded to his weary neck. 

 Pace finished arranging the bouquet, placing it on the dining room table.
"Hmmm. I can tell you now, Ray. Trying to live off of nothing but sex,
drugs and rock 'n roll will be the death of you. Or at least get you to
heaven faster! One of the two anyway." 

 Exhausted, Vecchio waved his hand feebly in James direction. "I doubt I
would be much hot company for a corpse right now." 

 There was an odd silence. The Detective expected some snarky retort.
After a bit, he cracked a weak eye and was met with a concerned gaze.
James was sitting on the armrest of the loveseat directly across from him,
brow knitted. 

 "You okay, Ray?" 

 "I'm fine, just tired." 

 More silence. "Are you sure? You seem awfully...unsettled lately." 

 The tired Italian wasn't sure how to answer. The last few weeks, with
Vecchio working over time, had kept them apart and it was no secret the
Detective's personal life was taking it's toll on him, not that James had
all the facts. Clearly, J.P. was genuinely concerned and wanted to know
what was going on. Ray didn't have to lie about the fight with Fraser. It
was the true nature of his relationship with the Mountie that he still
didn't know how to approach. It made Ray guilty that Pace had been back in
town for several weeks and he still didn't know the most important aspect
of Vecchio's life. Despite everything, the Detective decided he didn't
have the resources to explain tonight. The cop feebly smiled. 

 "It's just life, James. I can deal with it most times." He struggled to
sit up. "Other times, it gets a bit intense." 

 Pace smiled. "I hear you. Are you wiped out for the evening?" 

 The words filtered through the haze clogging his brain. "Well, mostly.
Geez, I'm so sorry. I come over here and all I act like I want to do is
pass out." 

 "Hey man, I know what you've been through the last few weeks. I've got an
idea! Stay the night, here on the couch. Let me make you some food while
you take a long, hot shower. Then you can sleep until you're sore. Or do
you want to eat first?" 

 Vecchio practically yelled the affirmative at each word, but didn't have
the energy to do so. "No, if I ate first, I'd never get in the shower." He
stood, trying to hided his wobbling stance and looked at his friend. "I
owe you one." 

 "Not a problem. But please tell me you're not going to object to sleeping
in a T-shirt and running shorts. I simply do not have any PJ's by Armani!"


 "I'll make do. At least, unlike you, I'll make it look good." 

 "There we go! That's it! All you need is some rest, then you'll be back
to you're old, bitchy self." 

 "I can't wait. Really." 

 "I'll get you some clothes in a minute." 

 Vecchio went towards the bathroom, which was surprisingly small. He began
to strip off his sticky clothes that he'd been wearing since early that
morning. The place was immaculate, designed in stark colors of grey,
silver and white. Metal towels rings held grey towels, the sink was
porcelain, trimmed in silver and after Ray removed his shoes, he scrunched
his toes in the plush grey rug that nearly covered the floor. The white
clock on the silver shelf in front of him read 6:30pm. The Italian felt
like it was in the middle of the night. He tried to ignore the real reason
he was here, because of his huge fight with Fraser. It was so upsetting
and depressing to think of it. He could only hope this would be a wake up
call for the stubborn Canadian. 

 He climbed into the shower, adjusted the water and just about purred as
he turned on the shower massage. The water was a little too hot, which was
exactly what he wanted. Taking the washcloth in hand, he began cleaning
himself. The pounding spray was loosening stiff muscles and Ray was
thankful it was calming more than his body. The soothing effect was a
pleasant surprise, since he was so wound up from the day's horrible
events. Just as he scraped off the dirt from the day, he let as much
stress as possible be scrubbed away as well. The Detective soaped up every
part of his body, leaving him a white, foamy figure. 

 "Hey, Ray." James called as he came into the bathroom. "I found you a
toothbrush. I didn't think I had any 'guest' ones left since it's been a
long while since I've had anyone spend the night. And I brought you those
clothes as well." 

 Ray's heart flipped over three times and he just about screamed for Pace
to get the Hell out of there. Then he remembered it was J.P.'s bathroom
and the shower curtain was solid grey, not sheer. The last thing he needed
were comical insults about his gawky, excessively hairy body. "T-thanks."
he mumbled. "Leave them on the sink." When he heard the door close, he
sighed in relief. 

 Slowly, he peered around the curtain and grabbed the toothbrush. It was
brand new, still in the box. He fumble with it, finally opening it,
grateful that he could brush his teeth after all. Finished with his
shower, he got out, dried off and put on the white cotton T-shirt and
black running shorts James had given him. He kind of laughed upon
discovering they were nearly the same size after all this time. 

 Ray came out, holding his soiled clothes in one hand, his cell phone in
the other. His stomach began to rumble at the wonderful smells that were
coming from the kitchen. "What should I do with my suit?" 

 James was drying his hands on a small towel. "Give it to me. We'll drop
it off at the cleaners tomorrow. I should have something else for you to
wear until you get home." 

 "Thanks. I wouldn't want to have to steal something and leave before
dawn." 

 Pace was draining some bow-tie pasta as he spoke. "Shit, if I woke up
with someone rummaging around in my closet, I'd just shoot the fuck,
thinking they were after my extensive dildo collection." 

 Ray choked, coughing as he sat down again on the couch. No doubt about
it, James Pace had a mouth on him and the sick mind to match. "Man, J.P.!
You are perverse!" 

 James sat a pot on the table just outside the kitchen, then went to get a
couple of plates. "Oh, please! Like you're a sweet angel! Remember that
time you blackmailed Louise St. Laurent into the storage room?" 

 Ray slumped in disgust, not believing how warped that statement was. "I
never made that woman do anything she didn't want to, take my word for
it!" 

 Pace lit two candles at the table. "Whatever happened to the storage
room? Is it still there?" 

 "Oh, no. They shut that up a long time ago." 

 "Maybe it was because it was seeing just as much action as the bullpen,
if not more. Come in here, the food is ready." 

 Vecchio shifted, recalling the late night visits he and a few ladies
shared in the place that held more sensual memories than supplies. "Well,
it was a different kind of action, of course." He stood, making his way to
the table. Utensils had been laid out, plus napkins and two beers. 

 James was making a plate as he said, "You can say that again! It was a
fine way to burn off stress in the middle of a shift, that much I do know.
Saved my sanity a few times." 

 Vecchio chortled, taking a sip from the cold bottle before him. "Now, who
was it you almost got caught with? Johnston, wasn't it?" 

 James looked like he'd been slapped. "Johnston?! As in Charles Johnston?!
Absolutely, fucking not! You thought I used to screw around with him?!
Hell, no!" 

 Ray blinked. "Are you sure? I thought it was him." 

 Pace was downright insulted. "Aw, ick, no, man. Eww, not Johnston! That
guy never bathed! He thought it was sexy to stink! I couldn't even think
about it." 

 "I hear you." He took the plate from Pace, just now seeing what his
friend had made for the both of them. It was broiled chicken, spiced with
a little seasoning salt. The noodles were tossed in some garlic butter,
topped with freshly grated Parmesan cheese. Ray took a bite and the flavor
just about melted in his mouth. It was delicious! So much so, he almost
didn't hear James response. 

 "Hey, there were a few I thought about taking to the storage room,
straight or gay, but he sure as Hell wasn't one of them." 

 Ray glanced up from his plate. He was going to ask why a straight guy,
then realized that was a dumb question, then changed it to wanting to ask
which straight guys, then ultimately decided on saying nothing because he
couldn't truly figure out what he wanted to know or why. All he did know
was that JP's statement made him curious. 

 James took a swig from his own beer. "Are you sure you don't mean Officer
Clawson? Now him, I didn't mind showing my entire thong wardrobe, on or
off. One, sexy devil, he was." 

 Ray giggled, looking at his friend in the firelight. "You are such a
slut!" 

 Pace began to mock blubber. "And my heart has the battle scars to prove
it! Oh, sob! And here you say that garbage like you don't have skeletons
of your own. I know the little tricks you'd use to get the ladies fanning
themselves." 

 "J.P....you say they were batting away flies and I'll throw my plate at
you!" 

 A shout of laughter was followed by, "Am I getting that obvious?" 

 "Just that annoying." 

 "Okay, okay. Tell me one sneaky way you'd get into a ladies good graces."


 "Oh, lord. Don't you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?" 

 "Not when it's around someone as boring as you. Now, come on." 

 Ray had to think. "Okay. If I wanted to really ask a girl out, I'd ask
around in a real causal manner, what she was into. That way, when I
finally did ask her to a specific place, it would seem as if we had the
same interests." 

 "Oh, how sinister. Did you get smacked for asking for a chaste smooch at
the end of the night?" 

 "Well, excuse me for not stalking her! Okay, bright boy, you tell me
one!" 

 "Of course! Let's see... " Pace thought for a few seconds. Suddenly, he
grinned slightly and dropped his head a bit. If Ray didn't know any
better, he'd say the other man embarrassed! 

 "Are you *blushing,* James!? I can't believe it! You actually have a
sense of dignity and it's been challenged! What on Earth did you think of
?" 

 It was obvious James was reluctant. "Oh...it's just about someone I once
cared a great deal about. Sometimes, I think that's where I got my goofy
nature from. I would do silly things to get him to smile." He looked at
Vecchio. "Most people don't realize what a gorgeous smile they have. Their
whole face lights up, their eyes sparkle. I love seeing that. It's great."


 Ray quickly got cold, the candlelight dinner taking on a whole new
meaning. His heart thumped hard once. He'd been told that, that his smile
was beautiful. 

 Don't be an idiot, Ray! He's not talking about you! Get a hold of
yourself. 

 Vecchio shook his head to clear it. "Yes, that's right. You're right." 

 "How's the food?" James said, segueing the conversation. 

 Ray looked down at his nearly empty plate. He'd practically inhaled his
dinner. "Great! I was going to tell you that." 

 "I'm glad you liked it. Finish that beer and you'll be off to dreamland
in no time." 

 "You got that right." 

 "Well, I'm off to take a shower myself. Put the dishes in the sink. I'll
put them in the dishwasher tomorrow. I'll probably read a while before I
call it an evening." 

 "J.P., you cooked dinner! The least I can do is put them in the
dishwasher. And yes, I do know how to run it. I insisted Ma get one a
while ago. Would you believe it took a good year to convince her?" 

 "People get set in their ways, Ray. They don't want to admit to a bad
situation, even when it's not getting any better." 

 He looked at his old friend. How on Earth was he going to tell this man
the truth? Would James even believe that Ray was in love with the
Canadian? Would he laugh and say Ray was crazy? 

 That people like Fraser don't love people like me? 

 Vecchio inwardly flinched at the familiar statement, not understanding
why he would think it here and now and that his old friend would believe
such a thing. Nonetheless, It made him terribly vulnerable of admitting
the truth. He wondered how much longer it would be before not telling
James was a falsehood in itself. 

 Withholding the truth does eventually make it a lie. 

 "I'm off, dear. Sleep well." Pace stood and went to the bathroom. 

 "Oh, I will." 

 The Detective placed the dishes in the washer. He retired to the couch,
listening to the water filling the machine. The washing cycle was quiet,
seeing it was one of the more expensive models, not the kind that could be
heard down the block. He smiled. Vecchio was warm, full of good food and
slightly floating from the mild alcohol. He could hear James in the
shower, singing some silly song, humming at various points. The Detective
wondered why on Earth his old friend wasn't in a relationship. Pace was
friendly, had a great sense of humor, was damned good looking and
certainly made decent money. Then again, that could be a problem for some
couples, when one earns considerably more than the other. 

 "I guess he makes too much for some..." Ray mumbled. 

 For some reason, that statement didn't set right with him. Why, he didn't
know and let it go as he drifted into sleep.  

 Ray made it back home about ten the next morning, having James drop him
off. He'd told his friend the Riv had been having trouble and the Mountie
brought it back to the apartment. Benny would be there, seeing they both
had the day off. Ray still had little idea what he was going to say to his
partner. Although, the Detective did think his blowing up was something
that brought everything out in the open and he was confident it had an
impact on the Canadian. One didn't go through such a fight and come out
unscathed. Ray hoped they could now talk all this out. He fought the evil
voices that whispered he had few words left that could make a difference.
Once he opened the door, he was greeted by the lupine member of the pack. 

 "Hey, Dief! How are ya, boy?!" Ray scratched behind eager ears with both
hands and put up with a few kisses from that long tongue. He glanced up to
see Fraser standing in the bedroom doorway. The Mountie looked exhausted. 

 "Hey, Benny! What's wrong with you? You look like you've been up all
night!" 

 "Hello, Ray. Well no, not all night. You spent the night at James?" 

 "Yeah, I did. Why you're so worn out." 

 "I was doing some research." Ben knitted his brow in confusion. "Those
are his clothes?" 

 "Yeah. He said I could give them back to him tomorrow, when we go
running." 

 "I'm...glad you're getting along with him." 

 Fraser was fishing, hoping his words were encouraging, not hostile. He
was establishing small talk, a basis for them to get to the root of the
matter. 

 "Me, too." Ray said. "He's a good friend." Finally, he got up the courage
to look into his lover's eyes. Why, he didn't know, but he hated looking
directly at Fraser when they were fighting. "Benny, we need to talk." 

 "Yes, we do. Let's go in the front room." 

 Once on the couch, Vecchio took one of Fraser's hand in his. "Look, I
love you and I want to make this work, but you're not giving me many
options, ya' know? I mean, we fight, we make up and everything seems okay,
for a while anyway. But I wonder if we've truly resolved anything when we
argue about the same stuff over and over again. I try to tell you how I
feel or why I'm hurt and...it's like you don't care. You just sit there
and block it all out until I am so exasperated I can't take it anymore.
Then I see you're nearly crying and that makes me want to cry. And then we
supposedly make up. Until the next time." 

 The Mountie stared at their clasped hands. "If this is about us being
intimate-" 

 "Partly, yes. But, it's not just that. Yesterday, I was utterly
exhausted, but you still wanted to play the hero." Ray clamped down on his
sarcasm. Being mean wasn't going to get the Constable talking. "Sorry.
Look, you have to admit you were being unreasonable." 

 "Yes, I can see that, but..." His words trailed off. 

 "What, Benny? Tell me." 

 It was apparent the Constable was just as frustrated and tired of the
situation as Ray was. "It's not something I want to do sometimes, Ray. I
have to. It's in my nature." A definite pout was in his eyes. "I thought
you understood that about me." 

 Ray kept his voice soft, but serious. "Benny, I hate to say this, but
just listen, okay? Do you realize you're talking like an addict?" 

 Fraser, much to Vecchio's disbelief, began to grin, then actually laughed
a little. "Oh Ray, I think you're taking it a bit far." 

 "Are you sure, Benny? Saying things like you don't want to, but have to?
Like you can't stop when you know you should? And getting upset when I
won't concede, when I won't let you have it." 

 Fraser was watching the floor now, his mirth gone. The Detective tried to
read the man in front of him, wondering if he'd reached the hardheaded
do-gooder. 

 Sad blue eyes met hopeful hazel. "The most I can do is show you, Ray. I
can say the words many times, but unless I demonstrate how much you mean
to me, this won't work. I'm sorry I hurt you, Ray. In the future, I'll try
to be more understanding. I promise." 

 There was such conviction in the Canadian's words, such determination,
the Italian felt at least a little better. Whatever it was that had made
them connect, Ray didn't care. He was just glad Fraser was affected and
wanted things to change. "Come here, Benny." 

 They came together and held one another on the narrow couch and talked
for a long while. And for the first time in a long time, Ray had a hope
that things would be different this time. 

 "So, what were you doing research on?" The Detective asked while playing
with Fraser's hair. The Mountie eventually wound up stretched out on the
couch, his head in Ray's lap. 

 "I...thought it would be best to try to help you." 

 "What do you mean?" 

 "Seeing as my need to 'be the hero,' was hurting you, I decided to put it
to good use." With that, Ben stood and went over to the dinning room
table. He lifted a beige folder and brought it over to Ray. "I hope this
helps with the case of the murdered security guard." 

 "What? You mean the one on Michael Perkinson?" 

 "Yes. After you...left last night, I went to the precinct and had Elaine
help me gather the information necessary. I went over it for quite some
time. At first, I thought the Lieutenant would mind, but he had left for
the day. As you can see, I feel you should interview the people I've
listed in the front, as well as obtaining the files on the robberies from
the investigating detectives." 

 "They gave the robberies to Huey and Dewey. Of course, they've been
dicking me around about it, saying they're not getting anywhere and need
to look into it more before giving me the files." 

 Vecchio opened the folder, scanned the pages, did a double take, then
another. He blinked, trying to get his mind around what he was holding in
his hands. It displayed a feasible pattern to the robberies, substantial
proof of certain evidence in the murder, eyewitness accounts for both sets
of crimes, a list of suspected pawn shops, clues to who the thieves might
be, not to mention the security guard's entire work history, all of which
had been gone over with a fine tooth comb. It was a positively excellent
collection of leads. 

 "Jesus, Benny! This is fantastic! I can't believe you came up with all
this in one night! I've been trying to work on this for weeks and I
haven't gotten nearly this far." 

 When his praise was met without a reply, he glanced over the file and was
greeted by the most enticing, steamy stare. A gentle hand came out to
caress the Detective's cheek. His heart skipped a beat. Vecchio never
could resist that mixture of innocence and sultry need. 

 "Well, " purred the Mountie, "I was highly motivated to do a good job." 

 It was apparent Benny was trying to make up in more ways than one. The
invitation was appreciated, but the Italian was uncertain. Did the
Constable really want this? Guilt swept over the cop, as it had
occasionally in the past. Ray hated to repeatedly burden Fraser with his
carnal longing and sometimes wished his need would simply vanish. If only
he could tell what his lover truly wanted... He closed his eyes and took
hold of that roughened skin touching his face. He refused to let the
demons within him twist this into something wicked. 

 "Oh, Benny. I'll make sure you give a great performance tonight."  

 It was time to call it a day. Not that the Detective was really all that
tired from work. In fact, he was wide awake. Vecchio had been up since six
that morning, still amazed he would actually, willing, get out of bed at
such an ungodly hour, in such weather, to go running with James. And not
even at gunpoint! In the beginning, he'd exercised only for short periods
to build his stamina. The frequency slowly increased, as per James advice,
until the two of them became regular jogging buddies every morning, for
the last two weeks. And the Detective felt more energized, and yet
relaxed, than in a long time. 

 It was the middle of November. The four cases he'd been working on had
much better results than he'd expected and was able to resolve two fairly
quickly. The others seemed to be just a matter of time before they were
taken care of. Then again, time had nothing on Constable Benton Fraser.
The Canadian was resolute to help Ray at work, which resulted in Vecchio's
caseload to lighten considerably. 

 Ray looked at his watch. It was almost four thirty. At five, it would be
time to pick up Benny from the Consulate. The Italian smiled. Thatcher was
out of town this week, meaning his Mountie was almost all by his lonesome
in that big, old building. Not that he could ever talk the shy Canadian
into fooling around at his work place. Fraser had a hard enough time
letting go behind closed doors, at night, in his own bedroom. Perhaps
instead, he could just talk with the Constable for a while before they
both went home. He got up from his desk and headed for the door. 

 Climbing into the Riv, he mentally cursed himself for once again leaving
his cell phone at James' place that morning. When Ray left it there
before, Pace was unable to return it until the next day, meaning Vecchio
would be without mobile phone use for twenty four hours, an unbearable
thought indeed. He called J.P. at work and whined and cajoled and pleaded,
until the other Italian finally said he would try to bring it back to him
as soon as he could. Seeing Ray was leaving for the day, that plan had
been shot to Hell. Vecchio shook his head as he turned the ignition. 

 He entered the Consulate, saw Turnbull and recoiled in fright. Ren was
carrying a huge dessert on a large tray. Vecchio had tasted that hideously
rich mess before when Fraser made it. The mountain-shaped concoction had a
flavor like it was prepared with a dozen eggs, a pint of cream, two pounds
of sugar and big malted milk balls, only with the chocolate poured all
over the massive dish. Ren made some comment that it was Russian and the
guests were waiting and that he was late and he never did finish his
statement before dashing off to serve the occupants of the other room.
Ray, who hadn't said a single word, just shook his head again and started
up the steps. Vecchio knocked on Ben's door and was told to enter. The
Mountie was standing by a file cabinet, hurriedly categorizing forms. Ray
sighed. 

 The cop could not deny what his partner was hiding. It wasn't blatant,
anything that warranted immediately intervention. A less attentive person
might've missed the signs altogether. Vecchio noticed little signals, such
as Benny being fidgety at work and minor mood changes that made the
Mountie distant at home. He suspected the reason Ben was uneasy was
because he was being so genial in their relationship, which bothered Ray.
The cop wanted to say something, to make sure his lover was okay. Yet, the
Detective also did not want to rock the boat. Things had been good between
them and he didn't want to spoil that. Plus, the Italian knew that if
Fraser wasn't going to talk about something, he wouldn't until he was
ready. 

 "Ray! I'm glad you're here." 

 "Hey there, Benny." 

 Vecchio came over and gave him a gentle kiss, which Fraser returned. 

 "I should be able to leave soon. There's just a little more paperwork to
finish." 

 "Not a problem." Ray began straightening the already perfect picture of
the Queen. 

 "How was work?" Ben asked. 

 "Oh, not bad. I did get a message from Tanya Camfetel, the girlfriend of
Michael Perkinson, the murdered security guard." 

 Fraser was jotting down notes in a folder. "That is a lead you should
follow up, Ray." 

 "Oh, I will. I just can't understand what she'd have to say now." 

 After filing the report, the Mountie said, "People do remember things
once time passes, Ray. Maybe she recalls something that she didn't think
was important earlier." 

 "That's true. You wanna' go get Mexican tonight?" 

 Fraser ducked his head and blushed. Ray cocked his own head in curiosity.
"What's that for?" 

 A small smile accompanied the Mountie's words. "I was thinking of making
dinner tonight, if that's all right." 

 Ray had to laugh a little. Dining at home was not as rare as they
sometimes made it sound. And the cop especially loved it when a fancy meal
was being prepared. "That's great, Benny. What did you have in mind?" 

 Fraser went over to a bag in a nearby chair and pulled out a half frozen
Canadian goose. Ray's mouth began to water at the site. The Mountie was
making the cop's favorite meal! "Oh, my, Benny. Did you also get the-" 

 "Yes, Ray. I got the deli-style Italian sausage you like." 

 "Like?! I loved that stuff! It's ambrosia on Earth! What's the occasion?"


 "No occasion, Ray. And yes, I remembered to obtain the ingredients to
make the sauce." 

 "YES!" Ray shouted. "Come over here, you big lug." 

 The Detective could've sworn his stomach was smiling as he thought of the
delicious meal - roasted Canadian goose, with a large side helping of
spiral noodles in a hearty tomato-vegetable sauce that contained half-inch
slices of Italian sausage, topped lightly with a locally made American
cheese. It was a recipe they'd both come up with and even Ray had to say,
it rivaled Rosa Vecchio's best spaghetti. The American grabbed the
Constable in a tight grip, stared deep into his eyes, smiled and
whispered, "You know I love you, don't you?" 

 Ben became instantly shocked, words failing him."Well, I-" 

 Vecchio ignored the bashful reaction, inserting kisses with his praise.
"Hey, now. You certainly didn't act shy the other night, my love. You were
pretty demonstrative, sir." 

 "Ahem!" 

 All mushy talk ceased upon the sound of someone loudly clearly their
throat from the doorway. Ray turned, annoyed as Hell that Turnbull would
interrupt them to look for a spoon or something. After turning,
unfortunately, his blood froze, his veins turning to ice water. James
stood at the office door, his bemused expression - and shock - was barely
held in check, as he waved Ray's cell phone at him. "I was going to return
this to you now, but I can come back, seeing you're awfully busy! And
getting busier by the second!" 

 Vecchio's knees went weak and a general numbness was setting in. Now he
understood Fraser's appalled expression! "Dear...God. James...I was...let
me explain!" 

 Pace's smile increased, his urge to burst out laughing scarcely under
control. "There's not much explaining left, Vecchio!" 

 The Constable backed off as Ray came toward Pace, making placating
gestures. "Seriously! It's not...well, it is, but...oh, dear Lord! I
didn't want you find out like this!" 

 "Well, I admit, Ray, my heart can't take such a shock on a regular basis.
Am I going to find size thirteen women's shoes in your closet as well?" 

 The Detective heard Benny's mouth open. That's when Ray once again
understood why it had been said the speed of thought is even quicker than
the speed of light. It took only nanoseconds for Ray to remember Ms.
Fraser and the fact this Fraser must always tell the truth. 

 "BENNY! Not now!" 

 Pace fell apart, cracking up on the spot. Ray blushed from head to toe,
his warm olive features now tinted with a deep red. For a while there,
Vecchio hoped Pace didn't throw up and/or pass out. James was doubled
over, his eyes leaking and turning quite crimson himself. He stumbled to
the chair in the corner and plopped down. He continued to snicker like
he'd been watching a "Who's Line is it Anyway?" marathon. The cop glanced
at the Mountie, who was terribly uncomfortable. 

 Once J.P.'s giggle fit started to subside, Ray snapped, "You done yet?" 

 "Oh, Lord! That was hysterical! You should've seen the look on your face!
It was priceless!" 

 "I'm so happy to amuse you." 

 "Ray, look," James said, as he wiped at his watering eyes, "don't worry
about it, man. Look at it this way. At least you don't have to tell me
later so that I can accuse you of being high." 

 "I'll give you that." 

 "Here! Take your damned phone!" Pace insisted. 

 Vecchio put it in his coat. "If you don't mind me asking, why the Hell
are you here?" 

 Breathing deeply and fighting off remaining laughter, James said, "I went
to the precinct, but they'd said you left. Elaine said you were coming
here to get Ben. By the way, Fraser, how are you?" 

 The Constable took the bait, much to Ray's contempt. "I'm fine, thank
you." 

 "Or you're fine, all right! At least Ray thinks so!" Pace replied and
started chortling again. 

 Ray's patience levels were in the red zone as it was and James was just
making it worse. "Oh, God! You are the true gut-splitter, you know that?!
You wanna' can it now?" 

 "I'm sorry, really." James said during his recovery, coughing deeply.
"What you planning for tonight, Romeo?" 

 "Sorry, hon. No visit tonight. I am going home. I have a lovely dinner
that is going to be cooked just for me and no, you're not invited." 

 "See what a rude fuck he is, Fraser? How do you stand him?" 

 "It can be a challenge." 

 A roller coaster of emotions had Vecchio all over the place, from the
flinching at the foul language, to Fraser's surprisingly agreeing with the
fool. "Okay! That is it! I am out of here. Follow me, Benny, or I'll leave
you with Andrew Dice Clay." 

 "Who, Ray?" 

 Pace started sniggering again as Ray made his escape. The two men trailed
after the exasperated cop, who wanted to find Turnbull and choke him for
letting Pace upstairs in the first place. Once outside, Fraser went over
to the Riv. James came to stand in front of the fellow Italian. His silly
attitude was on hold for the moment. Pace was grinning, but subdued as he
surveyed Vecchio intently. Ray had the urge to apologize, hoping that his
friend didn't think the cop had been deceitful. 

 "James, I just didn't know how to tell you." 

 "I'm just glad you're happy, you know that, don't you? And don't get me
wrong, Vecchio. It's one Hell of a jaw-dropper and it still hasn't
completely sunk in yet, but you know what?" 

 "What?" 

 "Have you ever had one of those times when somebody let you in on a big
secret and at first you're shocked! And surprised! And amazed! Then, you
think about it...really think about it. After that, it really not all that
astounding. As a matter of fact, it makes a whole lotta' sense." 

 "What do you mean by that?!" 

 J.P. just smiled. "I'll see you later, Ray. Have a good evening. Bye,
Fraser!" 

 Pace dashed off to his expensive, beautiful BMW, it's silver body
gleaming in the streetlights. Amid the mortification over Pace discovering
his true nature, and being the car nut he was, the Detective was still
impressed by his friend's mode of transportation. Vecchio couldn't even
conceive owning a vehicle so outlandish. Sure, his own clothing credit
line was unreal, but after that, he only had rent, general bills and
maintenance on the Riviera to pay for. It made the cop wonder how JP could
afford the insurance, let alone the monthly payments. 

 "What is it, Ray?" 

 Realizing his intrigue was bordering on nosiness, he let the subject
drop. "It's nothing. Come on, Benny! Let's get dinner started!"  

 The next morning, Ray awoke before the alarm when off. It was dark
outside and still would be when James would call him to go running. It
didn't take long for yesterday's events to remind the Detective why that
was going to be one odd meeting. Ray wasn't ashamed of being with Benny.
It just all seemed so bizarre to Vecchio, explaining to someone like James
that yes, indeed, someone as beautiful and wonderful and as great as
Fraser loved the plain, ordinary cop. The only analogy he could think of
would be trying to get a high school beauty queen to understand that the
captain of the football team really does love the nerdy, geeky female with
the thick, horn-rimmed glasses. He felt foolish trying to get the other
man to comprehend the situation. At that moment, his cell phone rang. He
picked it up from the night stand. 

 "Vecchio." he whispered, hoping to not bother a sleeping Fraser. 

 "Hey there, loverboy,." James murmured into the receiver, "did you get
lucky last night?" 

 Ray blinked at his own reaction. He thanked God he wasn't the one seeing
the sultry Italian on the other end of the line, because that voice,
spoken in that manner, could get a person to kill. Vecchio had the most
uncanny urge to say something similarly perverse, such as did Pace want to
watch? But he resisted his friend's alluring tone and any images it
created. 

 "You are so full of it! And DON'T comment on that! I'll see you in a
few." 

 He hung up before James had a chance to respond and quietly climbed out
of bed. On his way to the bathroom, Ray could feel the heat in his cheeks.
It was even more embarrassing to have Pace joke with him now that the
truth was, er, out. It sometimes upset the Detective that James thought
everything was just one big joke for all the world to laugh at. What the
Hell was wrong with being serious sometimes? He turned on the shower and
climbed in. He soaped up his body the same way Fraser had explored it a
couple of weeks ago and made it reach the height of pleasure. He laid his
head back and sighed, slight panic making him wonder if and when he should
approach the Constable again. He shook his head. 

 No, it's different now. We are getting along. It has been good. 

 It was true. Fraser seemed a little calmer, but still withdrawn and a
little less sexually interested. Things were still going well and Ray
wasn't ready to start complaining when he could see the Constable was
trying. They'd even made vacation plans together and once Ray got Fraser
up into the wilds of Canada, Benny would follow suit and get a little
looser and relaxed. It was a few weeks away, yet Ray thought if he could
hold out for a short time more, they could be together on a regular basis
for at least the next month. Scheduling it like this, however, did take
away the spontaneity. He got out of the shower, refusing to meet his
pitiful reflection in the mist covered mirror. 

 But beggars can't be chosers, right? 

 As Ray dried off and got dressed, he made a declaration. He wasn't about
to let Pace turn his love for Benny into a standup comedy routine, downing
and mocking it all for his amusement. Right on schedule, Vecchio kissed a
slumbering Mountie goodbye and went outside to J.P., was pulling up in
front of their apartment building. 

 "G'Morning, Ray." 

 "Good morning, James." 

 It was quiet in the small, costly car for a few minutes, until the
Detective couldn't take it anymore. He was primed for a verbal duel, ready
to vehemently defend his romance with the Canadian. So what if it wasn't
exactly what tradition expected? Why was it such a big deal the Mountie
was more likely to be with someone more like himself - adventurous, noble,
bright and beautiful? Fraser chose him, Ray Vecchio, to love and that was
good enough for him. 

 "So, go ahead and get it out." 

 "Get what out?" 

 "You know what I mean! The jokes, the mocking, the snide remarks. I want
you to get the taunting and sarcasm out of your system when it comes to me
and Fraser!" 

 That prompt was met with confused silence. "So, you think I can't wait to
rip you apart for being with the Mountie?" 

 "Of course! I know you, James! Everything is funny to you, so you might
as well let it spew how ridiculous all this looks." When J.P. turned the
car in another direction, other than their usual running route, Ray asked
in the same demanding tone, "Where are we going?!" 

 "I think maybe we need to have a talk. I'm heading back to my place." 

 Ray was still stewing, but he felt a little better at seeing Pace wanted
to talk instead of toss insults. "Fine." 

 J.P. glanced in his direction. "If it makes you feel any better, I had an
idea, you know." 

 The Detective knitted his brow. "You insinuated that once before." He
held up in his hands. "How on Earth did you suspect that?" 

 A little lilt to the tone now. "Oh, Ray. You know every gay man suspects.
Whether it be with intent or curiosity! " 

 Even he had to smile a little. It was common for gay men to wonder about
the sexual preference of all around them, especially those they really
wanted to be bent! "I think that's more of wishful thinking." 

 "However you want to phrase it! Seriously, though. Look at the
circumstances - you're living with him, you're always hanging around him,
even at work and no talk of a girl in your life. It adds up." 

 "I guess you have a point." 

 "Plus, there was that issue of 'Advocate' in the stack of magazines in
your bathroom was a bit revealing." 

 Hazel eyes bugged. He thought he'd hidden all the evidence! Ray swung
around in the tiny seat. "You knew?! How the Hell long have you known?!" 

 James was laughing. "For almost two weeks, Ray. I thought there was a
reason why you weren't telling me, so I thought I'd wait until you did. To
be honest, though, I didn't know why you kept it from me. But, now I think
I do. Did you really believe I would laugh at you or put you down for
being him? Tease the living Hell out of you, yes! But act like you
shouldn't be together? Like it's...wrong or something? Why would I do
that?" 

 Ray gulped. He admitted J.P. really hadn't said much of anything, yet
here Vecchio was all fired up, ready to vindicate what truly hadn't been
questioned. The Detective looked out the window, seeing nothing. A
nervous, anxious sensation rippled through the cop. It made him
wonder...maybe all the preparations for justifying their love was really a
way for Ray to convince himself. 

 "I...I don't know. Maybe I was just...thinkin' you would. You CAN be a
royal pain, you know that, don't you?!" 

 "Of course! How the Hell else could I live?!" 

 "True enough." 

 They pulled up to Pace's apartment building and watched as J.P. opened
the huge garage door via remote control. After making their way into
James' place, he got them both a soda, then Pace disappeared into the
bedroom. "Hey Ray. Come in here a minute." 

 Vecchio thought it odd, seeing he'd been to James' apartment several
times now, this was the first time he'd been in the man's small bedroom.
He walked in and closed his eyes in disgust. 

 "What?" Pace asked innocently. 

 James was a holding a picture in his hand, but that wasn't what made Ray
sick. It was the pale blue beam that shined brightly onto to the ground,
coming from the black shade which encircled the room, about five inches
from the floor. "Track lighting, James?! I would say that's a bit
ostentatious, even for you!" 

 "Hey, don't knock it, dear." Pace leaned forward and whispered loudly,
"Just imagine the silhouettes you get!" 

 Vecchio squinted in irritation, forcing away the enticing visions the
statement commanded, not at all enjoying that James was right. He deviated
the topic by pointing to the picture his friend held. "Are you going to
tell me who that is or just keeping caressing the frame?" 

 Pace looked at the picture, then handed it to Ray. "I guess you could say
this is...was my 'Fraser.'" 

 A smiling female gazed back at him, pretty in her own right, with
shoulder length, reddish-blond hair and passionate brown eyes. She was
wearing glasses, a sport shirt and jeans. 

 "Her name is Tracy. I met her while I was still involved with Keith. I
knew he and I were not going to be together for much longer. He needed me
more than he loved me, which is not a good thing in such a relationship.
Out of the bedroom, equality is the key." 

 Ray flinched. He'd heard rumors about Keith and James, but it was never
his place to ask. Plus, with the evidence he'd seen, he didn't really want
to know. It was kind of hard not to notice how the timid blond trailed
after Pace. The Detective admitted he wasn't so sure he wanted to hear the
truth now. Vecchio decided to get it out, using his usual bluntness. "So,
let me guess. The leather chaps and jacket you wore at your Halloween
party wasn't just a costume?" 

 James wasn't smiling now, the vulnerability plain on his face. "I guess
the handcuffs were over the top?" 

 "No, I think they made people wonder if you were for real." 

 Pace was staring at him now, anxiously reading Ray's reactions.
"That...freaks you out, doesn't it?" 

 Brutal honesty was definitely on the menu. "Let's just say I don't go
there...not with Fraser, not with any women I've ever been with." 

 James sat on the Queen-sized bed, his elbows on his knees. "My interest
happened by accident, you know. I wasn't always into such stuff. It was
Keith who introduced me to it and I couldn't believe how having him like
that, his being subordinate to me, was phenomenal." Apparently, it was
important to J.P. that Ray not see him as some kind of pervert, which
Vecchio inadvertently had. 

 But the Detective's ears were starting to burn. He had no desire to hear
of Pace's authoritative exploits with his former, complying lover. "James,
I don't need to know this. You don't have to tell me." 

 "Well, I wasn't going to get intimate, Ray. I guess I owe you this,
seeing how I intensified your embarrassment at the Consulate yesterday. I
just wanted you to see that my time with Keith was an incredibly intense,
thoroughly enjoyable part of my sexuality. But that's not all who I am.
After I broke it off with Keith, I came to love Tracy just as much, who
wasn't into anything like that. Am I bi? I'm not sure. She's the only girl
I've ever loved. I was attracted to her, yet it was more relaxed than when
I'm with a man. Some of my gay friends were more disappointed than I
expected. I wouldn't say it was my parents all over again, but it did make
me realize when people think of you as a member of a family, or a family
of sorts, then you go and do something they see as a betrayal...well, I
should've anticipated the backlash." 

 It was kind of difficult for Ray to not be affected by the confession.
James was putting himself out there, revealing an aspect of his sexual
persona most found distasteful and disclosing an unlikely love in his
past. Talk about sharing mortifying information! And he was doing it to
make the cop feel better after laughing at him yesterday. Vecchio smiled a
little. "I guess you call this your experimentation with heterosexuality?"


 Pace quirked his lips as well. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." 

 "What happened?" Ray asked, indicating the picture. 

 "She wanted to go to graduate school out of the state. She asked me to
come along. I was at a very messed up point in my life, though, with my
parents and the precinct and everything. So, I let her go." 

 The cop shivered, thinking of Angie and how Pace's life mirrored his own
in many ways. "I know what you mean." 

 Taking the picture back, Pace said, "Our love really wasn't all that
sexual...well, it *was,* but nothing like the guys I've been with. It took
the backseat for a change, it wasn't the first thing on our agenda.
That...could be frustrating at times, let me tell you. But, I learned to
respect her lack of interest and came to love her strength, her
character...all the same things I love about a guy I would become involved
with. With them, however, it was usually after the initial, sex-crazed
phase, were you screw your brains out at the drop of a hat!" 

 Ray laughed, but didn't really feel it. He had the distinct urge to go
home and look for cameras that Pace had set up all over his apartment.
Their similarities were getting frightening! Someone spoke and Ray was
shocked to realize it was himself. 

 "How often?" 

 "How often, what?" 

 "If...you don't mind me asking...how often did you and Tracy...?" 

 "Oh, once every two, three weeks." J.P. shrugged. "You have to remember,
I was used to going at it with Keith once or twice a week, so that was a
serious adjustment. Ever since then, it's been me and myself, if you take
my meaning." 

 We're so much alike... Geez, I'd give my left nut for a lover who wanted
it twice a week. 

 Vecchio broke out in a cold sweat, his limbs trembling. Visual scenes
appeared, a few seconds at a time. Silhouetted by track lighting or not,
gay or not, amiable or not, the Detective mentally watched his friend get
it on with every lover mentioned, including Pace entertaining himself. In
short, their conversation was arousing the green-eyed Italian. And Ray
didn't like it at all that his body and breathing were reacting bigtime.
The cop believed, being a man, a creature who thinks of sex every five
seconds and sometimes not always about what he should be thinking of, as
long as they remained just as thoughts, it was okay. However, this was
cutting far too close to his sense of the verboten and he wasn't sure why.


 "I hear you." Ray mumbled. 

 "So, let's go out in the front room and have you tell me how you and the
Mountie got together. I know how and why you guys met. But I need to hear
all the gory details!" 

 "Sure." said the cop, all too glad to focus on something other than
horny-induced scenarios. 

 That's when his cell phone rang. "Vecchio." 

 "Ray, it's me." said Fraser. "Elaine called. There's been another robbery
at the mall." 

End No Sense is Nonsense V: Bonding Spirit by LadyAna: LadyAna5@aol.com

Author and story notes above.