The Phantom of Chicago	The Phantom of Chicago

 by LadyAna

  

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

 Disclaimer: Copyright to Alliance.

 Author's Notes: Well, I *thought* I uploaded this to the archive last
year! 

 Story Notes: Spoilers are everywhere!

 

 

 "The Phantom of Chicago"
 by LadyAna 

 "I don't know, Benny." Ray dropped the sack he was carrying on his bed.
"I don't see why we had to go into that place." 

 "Well Ray, you said if we wish to successfully infiltrate the car
dealership, I would have to alter my attire more than I stated back at the
station. Once you told me what was needed, I knew the used clothing shop
had what we were looking for." Fraser scooped up the bag, making his way
towards the bathroom. He left the door cracked open. 

 "Well, you didn't have to tell me you used the way I dress as a guide! Oh
yeah, use some of my 'Armani' cologne. It'll make you more convincing." 

 Ray huffed, not wanting to admit he'd seen a few things he kind of liked
in a second-hand shop. How did the Canadian get him into such things? Back
at the precinct, Fraser's routine about going undercover was disgustingly
obvious, an invisibly-veiled manipulative rouse. Still, the next thing the
Detective knew, they were shifting through racks at the Goodwill. He shook
his head, remembering the frightening acuity Benny displayed when picking
out clothing to transform himself into a used car salesman. From the loud
colors, wide collars and polyester slacks, the Canadian selected several
outfits with great potential. 

 Naive, my eye. 

 The Italian went over to his chest of drawers and began to rummage around
for his little black book. His life had indeed taken some very odd turns
since the Mountie came to Chicago. It was only a matter of time until
another quirky escapade had him running with the man in red, hoping
neither one of them got killed. Or at least sparing the cop the sad fate
of dying of embarrassment. Ray grimaced at the memories of his first cases
with Fraser. The Italian was sometimes a clumsy buffoon or let his temper
get the better of him. Which was somewhat understandable when he found
himself wrapped in frozen horsemeat or tracking a vicious enemy of a
fellow Mountie. But no one, repeat, no one had the ability to irritate him
like Benny did, especially since the Canuck was simply trying to do the
right thing. So, the Detective grudgingly accompanied the Constable in
their pursuit to set the world right. 

 At least my caseload is getting lighter. 

 He could tell things were improving between them, however. It didn't help
matters when the Canadian got all soft on Vecchio and told him he was his
best friend. After that strangely turned his insides to tapioca, doing
little things to see Benny happy became a priority. It was becoming the
norm to do stuff like getting the wolf licence for Dief and helping kids
who point guns at him. 

 Vecchio located his little black book they'd need for this once again
bizarre case. The Italian pulled it out and ran his hand over it. He
couldn't remember the last time he'd used it, but it was at least a start.
He recalled enjoying amassing the old list, even if very few of the women
stood out in his dating memory. Of course, these were apart and separate
from the ones he'd intended on loving for all time. 

 Something started to itch at the back of his mind. He'd felt it before,
this subtle tickling in his head, like he was trying to tell himself
something, but couldn't form the thought, let alone give it a voice. He
guessed it was because, in all honesty, most of the females within in the
booklet were just that, names and numbers, indistinct and forgettable. It
was a bit unsettling to see these faceless designations as hopeful
indulgences, a goal to achieve. 

 The Mountie came out, distracting the Detective from his unclear
thinking. Ray turned to face him...and just about yelped. "Geez, Benny!
You look great!" 

 "Thank you, Ray." The proud, childlike smile was at odd with the clothes
the Canadian wore. 

 The Detective tossed the little black book onto his bed and crossed the
room to get a better view. Fraser assumed the part of a shyster to a
disturbing level. He looked...wild. Just as Ray believed back at the
precinct when Benny "tricked" the Detective into helping him, all that
innocence had to be just an act. Nobody could be that good and noble and
still know how to easily deck themselves out like a hustler. 

 Grinning, Vecchio surveyed the ridiculous get-up, stopping at the
Canadian's now slicked back hair. Mixing such a decadent decade and the
Mountie created such a perversely wonderful image. Fraser looked liked
he'd stepped out of "Studio 54." Having graduated from high school in the
late seventies, Ray was more than aware of the hedonistic era. It caused a
strong sense of nostalgia and excitement in the Detective, back when he
was young and energetic and determined to be a cop and dating like mad and
falling in love with the special ones, the kind that come along once in a
lifetime... The moment was becoming intense, but Ray couldn't figure out
why. 

 "The jewelry!" he practically shouted. 

 "What?" Benny softly asked. 

 "You need a necklace or something. Now tilt your head down." 

 Vecchio darted away to his dresser and selected a gold chain. For some
reason, he averted his eyes when he came towards Fraser, like he was too
much to look at. Necklace in hand, he placed his hands around the
Mountie's throat and smiled to himself as he thought of how many times he
wanted to do this in anger. 

 Benny's head was lowered and the Italian wondered how many noticed the
Mountie's hair was actually dark brown, not black, and that it looked
remarkably soft. Then he asked himself why was he noticing such a thing?
The faint smell of cologne and hair gel was mixing with the Mountie's
unique body chemistry. The effect was mesmerizing and Ray found himself
growing a bit dizzy, causing his hands to slow a bit. He could feel the
Canadian's intense body heat where they touched. He guessed it was because
the Canadian was naturally warmer than most others in just about any given
weather which made him so hot-blooded. 

 Ray's senses were becoming unnaturally heightened and his breathing was
increasing by the second. He resisted looking at that perfect skin just an
inch from his face, but he didn't know why he shouldn't. He just prayed
Benny wouldn't touch him, even though that reasoning was also unfounded.
And why was his heart beating so fast?! The clasp was fighting with his
trembling hands and his eyes were starting to lose focus. This closeness
between them was getting a bit too much, but Vecchio could not make
himself pull away. 

 "Ray? Are you all right? You're shaking." Fraser asked, his voice oddly
deep and calm. 

 "I'm okay, just give me a minute!" he snapped, then quickly added,
"Sorry, Benny. Almost done." Trying to ignore Fraser's breath on his neck,
the proximity and smell and warmth of his best friend, he finally got the
chain hooked together. That's when he noticed Benny's breathing wasn't
exactly normal either. 

 Finally finished, the Detective didn't know how to back off. For the
longest two seconds on Earth, the American stood there, confused and
reluctant to break the connection, with his arms loosely wrapped around
the Canadian's neck. But when Benny pulled back, soft blue locked with
startled green and Ray froze to the spot. All it took was one look from
the befuddled, then the not-so-befuddled, Mountie to clarify what was
happening. The Italian didn't want to move because this felt so right, so
perfect...so good. And he could see that same reaction in the other man's
eyes. Just the idea made the cop feel faint. He would've run away
screaming, but he thought that might even be more embarrassing, if that
were possible. 

 "You don't have to put it on, Ray." Fraser whispered. 

 Vecchio blinked. "What?" 

 "You don't have to do this, if you can't." 

 Benny was giving him a way out. It was an escape route from the
inadvertently amorous situation they'd both stumbled into. Ray had a good
idea, but wasn't completely sure if the Mountie was feeling the same.
Either way, he was grateful for the segue. 

 "Um...it's on." Ray manage to mumble and let his hands slip from the
beautiful head he was holding and willed his pulse to slow down. 

 "Good." 

 They looked at each other again and Fraser was just about to speak, when
Ray's bedroom door nearly came off the hinges. 

 *BAM, BAM, BAM!!!!*  

 The noise made the Italian jump a mile away from Fraser, as if they were
being caught in the act of doing ...something. 

 "Let me in, Ray!" Frannie insisted. "I know he's in there! Fraser," she
called in a singsong voice, "please let me in!" The tone, of course,
changed to menacing when addressing her brother. "Ray, you better open
this door or I'll - " 

 Disgusted, Ray grabbed the little black book off the bed and shoved it
into the Mountie's hands. "Start at end. You'll have better luck at
finding someone to help us." The Detective went over to the door and
unlocked it, catching his sister with her foot in mid-kick, causing her to
stumble into the room. "Can it, Frannie!" 

 "Same to you, brother-of-mine. Hey, Bent-" 

 She stopped, stuttered, her mouth forming a lopsided oval. The poor girl
was at a total loss at Fraser's strange attire. 

 "Eloquently put, Fran." Ray snapped, grabbing the arm of the Canadian and
pulling him away from his drooling sibling. 

 After 1.5 seconds, it registered the man of her dreams was no longer in
front of her and she turned with a vengeance after him. "Why are you
dressed like that, Benton?!" she managed to get out as she followed them
down the steps. "Don't tell me Ray did this to you." 

 "No, I didn't, Frannie. Turns out Fraser's got a thing for the 'me'
generation. Let's go, Benny." 

 "You're lying!" she shot back. "Call me, Benton!" 

 As Ray was pushing him into the car, the Constable called, "Um...I'll
try, Francesca." 

 "He won't, Francesca." Ray called back, happily getting behind the wheel
to drive away from his annoying little sister. 

 Once on the road, Ray looked over at Fraser who was just beginning to
calm down from the entire Frannie event. Or was that slight look of panic
because of what had transpired between them? 

 How the Hell was I supposed to know simply putting jewelry on him was
gonna do that to me? It's not like I'm Frannie - I don't have a thing for
the guy. 

 He shifted uneasily in his seat. Ray never really had such feelings for
any man. He was a self-admitted, raving heterosexual and proved it as
often as he could. He sighed. The Detective confessed it was more talk
than anything. When was the last time he'd really that successful on a
date? Hell, when was the last time he really went out with a woman?
Hanging out with the Mountie was a full time job and he found himself more
often than not in the comfortable presence of the man who called him his
best friend. 

 And being with Benny was a Hell of a lot different than seeing a female.
He conceded it was sometimes better. When he was out with a lady friend,
Ray was extra concerned about everything - his clothes, his manners, his
language, his breath and money. With the Constable, such considerations
came naturally and since there was nothing more to hope for, no blissful,
physical act to look forward to, Ray could enjoy the evening as it was
happening. After all, the Canadian was a guy and what other kind of person
would he feel most comfortable around? Which brought him back to the
moment that was making him uncomfortable. 

 It's just the clothes, the way he's dressed right now. he told himself.
Just like when you were in the cell and first saw him your heart stopped
beating for second. It's just a natural reaction. It doesn't mean
anything. 

 He reminded himself it was like being in the locker room at school and
feeling woefully inadequate and highly envious of the few jocks who had
muscles for days were endowed half way down their thigh. His own "gift"
certainly wasn't a wimp, but some of these guys could be hooked up to a
tractor and plow fields! Or even now, sometimes he witnessed a man so
beautiful, he simply had take notice, even if it didn't stir any hormones
in the least. Jealousy and amazement, of course that was it. Seeing the
Mountie after he called for "Detective Armani" was along the same vein, he
told himself. It was simple acknowledgment, giving credit where credit was
due. 

 And as for anything deeper, well, Ray did take psychology back in college
and understood all about the fleeting, inappropriate feelings all humans
have and that it simply says we're animals first, especially men. It's
choosing act on them that made the difference. 

 Which is not a possibility here. 

 At that thought, a shiver that stared in his toes covered him completely
in goose bumps and made the fight or flight response kick in, only
fivefold. And since he couldn't really do either, he began his other usual
reaction. He started talking. 

 "So tell me, Benny. Where did you learn how to dress like that?" 

 "As I said, Ray, through your description of what was needed, I used your
own style of dress as a basis. I'm familiar with undercover work and I
learned a lot from creating the costumes we had on what you would call
Halloween and-" 

 "Wait a minute! You celebrated Halloween?!" 

 "Well, not exactly as you would have, Ray. The Inuit have a different
belief and-" 

 "I ain't interested in the Inuit, Benny! I can't believe you used to
dress up in a costume as a kid. I gotta' hear about this!" 

 It took a minute, but when the Mountie spoke, his voice was somber. "I
grew up in a very isolated area, Ray. My grandmother taught me how various
holidays were celebrated all over the world. She thought helping me make
an decorative outfit would be a great educational tool." 

 Ray felt like a heel. Benny couldn't exactly go trick or treating in the
Yukon and here the Italian was insisting on details. Wild wolves didn't
give out those little Snickers bars and where up there could you get your
hands on a pumpkin? The Detective didn't have too many fond memories of
growing up. But he did remember the joy of helping his mom put together
the fantasy character of his choice or finding a new hiding place for the
slimy insides of the traditional orange orb, usually in Frannie and
Maria's bedroom. He was always dressing up as something like Spiderman or
the Incredible Hulk. Fran and Maria always had to be some kind of princess
or fairy, who just had to tag along. 

 While gathering candy from the neighbors, he'd hated being responsible
for his little sisters. But he quickly learned their presence created more
shrieks of delight from the adults, which resulted in more loot given out.
After that, he was practically dragging his two female siblings with him
from door to door at the end of every October. The next day at school,
like everyone else, they would trade such goodies with the other kids,
trying to impress each other with all of their "ill-gotten" gain. Ray
smiled at the times he got sick from all the sweet stuff he'd manage to
acquire. But it faded fast upon realizing Benny never got to experience
such things. 

 "Sorry, Benny. That sounds rough." 

 "There's nothing to be sorry for, Ray. I had a pleasant time learning
such things." 

 "Benny, Halloween ain't about learning! It's about having fun, getting
dressed up in some goofy outfit and eating too much candy." 

 Blue, huge eyes stared at the cop. "You still dress up for Halloween,
Ray?!" 

 Ray sighed, something he'd grown a habit of lately. "No, Benny, no. Look,
Elaine has a Halloween party every year at the precinct. Why don't we both
go? It's still a while until it happens, so why don't we consider it?" 

 Now the Mountie was confused. "Ray...you just said you do not wear a
disguise for this holiday. Are you suggesting we dress up for this event?"


 "What ? NO, of course not!" the Detective quickly corrected. "I just
mean, let's go and have a good time." 

 "But won't we seem out of place not being in costume?" the Mountie asked.


 "At the station, nobody's ever out of place, Fraser."	

 He was dreaming again. Every second of the terrifying event is replayed -
the futile attempts of escape, panic rising with the liquid dread and the
final inhalation he thought would be his last. Water is everywhere, his
heart is bursting and he can't breathe and he is cramped and screaming in
his mind to get out. They say Hell is all fire and hot coals and alive.
The Italian knows from personal experience it could also be dead,
soundless, airless, as black as night, cold as ice and as alone as those
unclaimed corpses at the morgue. A rush of rustling water startles him,
someone grabs him and up, up, up they go, his arms and legs flapping
uselessly in the water, air coming out of his nose and mouth, the bubbles
fly away from him into darkness as they ascended, tears streaming into the
murky deep. He again clamped his mouth shut, causing his heart to pound.
Sweet air drenches him entirely and he sucks it in without hesitation or
pride, slung over the Mountie's back like a prize fish. 

 The anticipation rises by the second when he can feel the heat from the
hood of the Riv. He barely notices Frannie as he mutters something and the
Mountie agrees. His face is grasped and he falls into a grey-blue world
and the two of them become one, melting into each other. Ray had never
felt more complete in his life than at that second. Staring at a
frightened, drenched Fraser, Vecchio experienced the mental equivalent of
a blood-bonding ritual. Affected on every level, all he wanted to fall
into Benny's arms and hold him, feeling his and the Canadian's body go lax
from relief. The subconscious takes the cue and runs with it. He can't
hide in the dream. He is suddenly not in control of what happens and being
asleep makes it possible without the restraints of reality. Benny is
leaning in and so is he... Awareness sweeps over him like the impending
dawn and he is jarred awake with a thudding heart. After panting for a few
minutes, he curled onto his side and closed his eyes. 

 This can't be happening. It's been weeks since that happened and I'm
still dreaming about it. Well, duh, I did nearly die. But why do I keep
wanting to...? 

 Could he even bring himself to think it? He could rationalize that
dreaming about kissing Benny was simply an extension of his initial
gratitude of being saved? Maybe, it was along the same line of when
patients think they love their doctors for curing them. 

 And I look like Brad Pitt. Sure, right, whatever. 

 And it wasn't like Fraser was helping any these days. He had casually
mentioned all the names in the little black book had been disconnected
when he tried to reach someone else besides Francesca. But Ray prompted
him, hadn't he? Why? Why did he give the Mountie the book in the first
place since he knew he'd lost contact with a majority of those women years
ago? There was no direct, easy answer. 

 He tried to not think of the Canadian in that freaky bar while they were
looking all over Chicago for that guy's daughter. The most disturbing part
was that Benny wasn't at all rattled or scared of the blatant sexuality
the place exuded, like he usually did in the face of such outward lust. He
was, in fact, quite calm, as if he were fully aware of what was going on
and just choose to ignore it. Sure, he masked it all in his usual shield
of being totally clueless, but that wasn't Fraser's, er...normal response
to such a carnal display. It was unnerving to the Detective that Benny
just might be familiar with all that sex stuff, like the pure Canadian was
really a little more educated than he let on. 

 Then there was the entire closet incident. Why had the Italian even
mentioned that Dief was licking him? It was a well known fact Benny was
way too polite to do anything like that, even under the guise of solving a
crime. Maybe it was due to the alarm Ray felt, thinking there was the
slightest chance Fraser was dragging him into a darkened room for
something other than talking. 

 When did I start all this squirrely crap with him anyway? 

 Hugging a pillow, he admitted to being turned on by putting that chain
around Benny's neck or experiencing an intense spiritual connection of
sorts after the Mountie saved him from the trunk of the car. But, most of
the time, he didn't feel that way for the Canadian or any other male. Was
it really the cheap clothes Fraser wore or did it start before that? Was
it on a more deeper level, like them nearly dying together a few times to
make such feelings arise? Or perhaps a subliminal suggestion was planted
when he held Benny's gown together in the hospital. Heck, he'd seen Benny
practically naked as he cared for him while Fraser's leg healed. Ray
confessed to being in awe of the utter beauty of the Mountie. The time
just seemed highly inappropriate for lewd musings. 

 Maybe I was too scared of hurting him even more. he thought. 

 At the time, as much as he hated to see Benny in pain, Ray loved looking
after the Canadian. He prepared the meals and did Fraser's laundry, walked
Dief and even cleaned the apartment during Benny's time on crutches. It
was getting the stubborn Mountie to stay off his leg that made the Italian
threaten to tie him to the bed if Fraser didn't listen, which finally
worked. Somewhat, anyway. It brought to mind the time Fraser was examining
the tainted meat in the bathroom as his family paraded in and out.
Afterward, Francesca pelted her brother with questions. 

 "Why did he have to look at that stuff in there?" she demanded.
"Especially while you were in the shower?" 

 "Maybe he was hiding from you." Ray retorted. "Not that it worked." 

 "That's a lie!" 

 He began to wonder if Benny was trying to sneak a peek at him unclothed,
as unscrupulous as that was. The Italian sure enough would not have
noticed, seeing how horrified he was of the maggots he was scrubbing off.
The Detective sighed. Did he really think he was starting to 'switch
directions' because of something so silly as seeing Benny's dark brown
hair and wanting to see if it was as soft as it looked? He had to admit
Fraser hair was luxurious, like a fox stole. Very unlike his own ordinary,
thinning top. 

 The Italian had been fighting a losing battle keeping as much hair as he
could, ignoring how much was ending up in the shower drain every day. He
was tired of messing with it every morning, having to use just the right
amount of gel and combing to keep it from becoming a poofy nightmare. It
was time for something new, a different style perhaps. He yawned as he
turned over various ideas. Ray remembered the hideous haircuts he'd had as
a kid. It was basically a buzz cut that made him look like he was a
soldier in some kiddie army. He did recall, however, liking the low
maintenance. And he remembered women had this knack for touching his head
when it was bare. That memory almost convinced him. What kept him from
making the decision to look like Kojak was the possibility Benny might
want to touch his bare top. 

 Stop it! Stop thinking that right now and go to sleep! 

 Ray sighed and soon went back to sleep.  

 "I think she was nearsighted." 

 It was so good to call the case closed. The Detective still couldn't
believe that fool trying to sell his kid for any reason, even if it was to
save his own butt. The adrenalin from the fight was draining out of him
and he was suddenly very tired. 

 "Who?" 

 "The chick with the bike." 

 "Oh, you mean at the coffee shop." 

 "Yeah." 

 "Well, she was probably too young for you, Ray." 

 "Oh, no, no, it's not her. She just didn't notice my je ne sais qui." 

 "From the French meaning, 'I don't know what'?" 

 "Yeah." 

 "You ever consider maybe you just replaced it with something else?" 

 "Really? What?" 

 Fraser backs off, surveys his friend, playfully scrutinizing him.
"Yeah...that's it." 

 Ray smiled at Benny's teasing. "What?!" 

 "I'd rather not say." 

 Now the Mountie wanted to be coy. Ray grinned, appreciating his friend's
attempt at lightening the mood. "Come on, Fraser!" 

 "No, Ray, it's your hair. It wouldn't be right." 

 Now he was concerned. What was the Canadian trying to say? "No, no, we're
partners, man! You have to be brutally honest with me." 

 "Alright. In one phrase?" 

 "Yeah." 

 "Je ne sais qui." Fraser said smoothly. 

 Ray whooped and jokingly grabbed the other man's shoulders in a half hug.
Benny was such a fun fiend at times! 

 "If you are truly worried about your hair, Ray, I can recommend a
homemade cleanser." 

 Ray laughed again as they made it back to the Riv. "Oh, you mean some
shampoo that's a concoction of whale blubber and seal entrails? Oh yeah, I
really want that rubbed into my head! Please, do tell!" 

 They both got in the car and Ray placed the key in the ignition. The
Mountie was staring skeptically at him, but he ignored it. That is, until
Fraser's fingers unexpectedly slid through his hair and around the back of
his head. Ray gasped, his excitement obvious. His eyes fluttered closed
and he leaned into the sensuous touch before he could stop himself. It
took every ounce of control not to grab Benny's hand and kiss it. Or
Benny. He gripped the steering wheel unmercifully instead, to vent his
frustration. 

 "Fra-zer!" he stammered, flinching wildly, trying his best to sound
outraged and not aroused, of which he was doing a poor job. "What are you
doing?!" 

 "You said you wanted me to suggest a shampoo, Ray. It was just seeing
what the texture of your hair was like so I would have a better idea as
to-" 

 "Well, warn me next time! That freaked me out." 

 "Oh. Sorry, Ray." the Mountie chimed innocently. "I thought you were
leaning forward so I could reach you better." 

 "Well, you were wrong!" Ray retorted, praying for his erection to go
down. He hoped to God the Mountie wouldn't notice. 

 "I did apologize, Ray." 

 A contrite Mountie was all it took to defuse Ray's anger. "It's okay,
Benny." 

 "Ray?" 

 "What, Benny?" 

 "What does 'freak out' mean?" 

 He gave the Canadian a nasty look and Fraser held up his hands in
surrender. They pulled off and rode in silence, making it back to the
station not before long. Ray checked his desk for messages and spoke with
the Lieutenant briefly. He was on his way out of Harding's office when he
noticed Benny was staring at the posted flyer about Elaine's Halloween
party Ray had mentioned weeks ago. Since many of their colleagues still
had to work that evening, the wonderful civilian aid planned on having a
gathering in the cafeteria. Vecchio was just glad Fraser took the time to
check the bulletin board on a daily basis. It was definitely a better
subject to talk about than what occurred in the car at the airport. 

 "We still goin'?" the Italian said once he was beside him. 

 "There's a costume contest for charity, Ray." 

 "So?" 

 "I believe it would be rude if we showed up without a disguise." 

 Alarms were going off at the back of Ray's mind now, warning him of
imminent-Mountie-plan-involvement. "Benny, some of the outfits people wear
to these things are just silly and the winners are even worse. Let's just
go to relax." 

 "Oh." The Canadian seemed put off, but accepting, of Ray's dismissive
attitude. "Well, I guess Elaine won't mind us ignoring her request." 

 But Ray wasn't falling for that routine. "I didn't know we were still
going. You hadn't said you wanted to." 

 "Only if you want to, Ray." 

 "No. No, no, you don't. This is for you. Besides, what costume did you
have in mind, Benny? A walrus, perhaps? Or maybe a dead fish?" 

 That got the Mountie's attention. This was good. Distraction was good. "I
thought we weren't dressing up, Ray." 

 "I'm just curious, Benny. Who would you go as?" 

 Taken aback at the idea, Benny actually became inarticulate.
"Well...I....that is, I don't know...um..." 

 "It's not a test in physics, Fraser. Just think about who you'd like to
be for an evening." That got the wheels turning and Ray could see the
Mountie obviously was considering several options at once. Benny's eyes
lit up and he was about to announce his decision, when the Italian cut him
off. "No, it can't be a mythical being from the folklore of the Inuit. It
has to be something people will recognize." 

 Fraser's eyes narrowed with disappointment and resolve. "Fine, Ray. Then,
I won't tell you who I am going as." 

 The Detective's eyes nearly popped out. "What?! You can't be serious! If
I'm going with you, then I have to know who you're going to be!" 

 The most unusual look came over Fraser at that moment, but it was not an
unfamiliar one to the Italian. It appeared very much like when they were
both on the basketball court and they were both sweating and playing hard
and the score was a tie and showing one another no mercy and...why did
that scenario sound so sexy?! 

 "It is, after all, a contest, Ray. Let the best costume win." 

 Competitive! It was a RivalBenny he was facing! The Mountie was
challenging him! Well, two could play at that game Ray's voice was as
smooth as the ice of the tundra. "Fine, Fraser. Knowledge is one thing,
but I know this city! We'll see who can play their part best!"	

 "Come on, Benny! We're gonna' be late." Ray said from inside his closet. 

 "I'll be out momentarily, Ray." Fraser called from the bathroom. 

 The Italian snorted, continuing to fuss with the final touches on his
costume, which was really much of nothing since the outfit was quite
simple. He peered around the closet door, revealing only half his face.
The Detective was trying to sneak a peak at Benny's costume, which the
stubborn Mountie would not let him see until he was fully dressed in the
attired facade. Ray asked several times, then insisted, then cajoled, then
finally gave up, upset that Benny simply would not tell him what he was
going as to the Halloween party at the Precinct. This left the Detective
with the difficult task of coming up with an outfit that would (gulp!) top
the Mountie in inventiveness and charm. 

 As predicted, Ray had the most terrible time picking out a costume. He
never dressed up for such events since he was a kid and felt he'd outgrown
the whole silly idea. That is, until a highly irritating Mountie, who
obstinately would not tell his best friend - his best friend, damn it! -
who he was going as to the party. Vecchio responded the only way he knew
how - spite. Since Benny wasn't going to let him in on the secret, the
Italian was going to do exactly the same. He was going to dress up and not
tell Fraser what he was going to be. The response he got was more
disbelief than anything. Benny wasn't so much curious as he was
flabbergasted Ray would even consider wearing a costume. It only sought to
encourage the Canadian, making him anticipate the party even more, much to
Ray's disdain. 

 He smoothed his barely-there hair for the eleventh time and again tried
to talk himself out of going. Yet, the Detective decided to follow
through, seeing how much this night meant to Benny. It was obvious that
the Canadian never got to do such things as this when he was a kid, a fact
that weighed heavily on the cop's heart. It was at times like this he felt
overwhelmingly protective of the Mountie. He wanted to show him all that
Chicago had to offer, tell him all the things he'd seen and done and let
Benny in on all the fun. Vecchio looked at himself in the mirror and
repressed a chill. Oh yes, how he'd love to show Benny so very much... 

 No, no, no! Ray told himself. Don't start that again! It's been weeks
since you've suffered through a bout of silliness with him, so let's keep
it that way. 

 "Just a moment more, Ray." 

 Benny was still in the bathroom and Ray darted to the other side of his
bedroom, about five feet away from the bathroom door. Ray peered around
the corner and, sure enough, he could see Fraser's reflection in the small
cabinet mirror over the sink. Vecchio's eyes widened in shock and his
mouth gaped, closed, opened again. A rush of pure arousal washed over him.
He quickly looked way, as if he'd been caught gawking at a car accident.
But this was no accident. This...this...was beauty personified, utter
gorgeousness incarnate and Ray's body was reacting like he was a teenager
all over again. This was made even worse seeing as his own costume was
extremely unforgiving and there was no way to hide his, er, 'reaction' to
Benny's outfit. When the Canadian spoke again, Ray wished he had a glass
of ice water to literally to douse his own groin. 

 "Hide your outfit, Ray. I want you to see my costume first. Then I'll see
yours." 

 Ray became instantly baffled as to just how he was going to "hide"
himself, in more ways than one, when he remembered his nearby robe. 

 "Great idea, Benny!" he said while slipping on the robe. 

 Benny walked out slowly, still adjusting his pristine white bow tie, his
hands elegantly clad in snow white gloves that matched his white shirt and
cummerbund. Long, black robes billowed behind him and circled his form
once he came to a halt. The black tuxedo fit him perfectly and the hat was
tipped to the side, which helped to obscure his already partially hidden
face. Ray blinked. A mask. Benny was wearing a mask? It took a second to
sink in. 

 Fraser was the Phantom of the Opera. 

 "The Phantom, Benny?!" Ray said while smiling. "Why on Earth are you
going as the Phantom?! Talk about a walking contradiction!" 

 Ray was dutifully impressed. The Italian believed he couldn't see Benny
in anything that would make him even more attractive, but had been proved
completely wrong. The Canadian was drop-dead luscious in formal wear. The
Mountie, however, was staring hard at Ray, his brow knitted in confusion.
When he finally spoke, his voice was slightly impaired by the mask, but it
was obvious he was talking in a daze. 

 "I...um...think you mean...an oxymoron. Ray, why are you not wearing
pants?" 

 Ray beamed at his partner's puzzlement. "Can't you guess, Benny? I had to
wait to find out what you were. Shouldn't I make you wait a little
longer?" 

 The Mountie turned and went back into the bathroom rather abruptly. He
nervously straightened his tie again in the mirror. "That...is up to you,
Ray." 

 Ray's temperature rose about ten degrees. "Up to me?! Don't you even
care? I should've known you'd pull this!" 

 With that, Ray whipped off the robe and folded his arms. He impatiently
waited and soon enough, Benny's head tipped around the corner, his face
breaking into a sunny smile. 

 "That's great, Ray! That is, if I'm not mistaken, an excellent replica of
Michael Jordan's uniform. But won't you be cold?" 

 "It called a jersey, Fraser. And it's not that cold out." 

 "Of course, Ray. You are correct." 

 But Benny wasn't looking anymore, as a matter of fact, he seemed to be
doing everything possible to keep from looking at the Italian. Ray was
starting to feel a little foolish, standing here looking like he was ready
for the basketball court. The red jersey had the number 23 on it and there
were red shorts to match. He'd purchased a pair of red and white gym
shoes, chiding himself the entire time for thinking he'd got them not
because they matched his outfit, but because he knew red and white were
the colors of the Canadian flag. Benny's seemingly apathetic attitude
caused that Vecchio anger got the better of the Italian. 

 "Let's go." he growled, opening the door. 

 Fraser glided past, the cloak trailing along. Ray looked at the object on
the floor nearby and nearly walked away, dismissing it. He took one look
at Fraser, who was still averting his eyes as if embarrassed or bored and
the Detective leaned over to grab the basketball and scooped it up,
placing it under his arm. 

 Now, I'm ready!" 

 They made it to the car and pulled away in silence. 

 "That's for sure..." Ray muttered. 

 "What, Ray?" 

 Vecchio turned, somewhat startled, not realizing he'd spoken out loud. He
was surprised that he could speak so easily around Fraser as if he were
thinking to himself. Was he *that*comfortable with the man?! 

 "Oh, I was just thinking I was glad Frannie wasn't here. She'd have
tackled you before you got out the door." 

 "And why is that, Ray?" 

 The Detective decided not to keep up with the pouting. He liked his own
costume. To heck with what the Mountie thought. "Why? Oh, come on, Fraser.
You know why." 

 "It is appropriate, if anything, Ray. As is yours." 

 "Appropriate? What do you mean by that?!" 

 All conversation for the moment once they reached the precinct. There
were screams of delight from various females outside the police building.
It snapped Ray to attention to get the damned Canadian inside before some
whore drooled on him. Taking the basketball with him, he steered the
Mountie through the doors, past the drunks and druggies, the prostitutes
and petty thieves, pretty much all of whom ignored or barely noticed two
men, both six feet tall, one dressed as a mad composer and one portraying
a white version of a famous basketball player. They made it to the
cafeteria, which was alive and jumping with participants coming and going
at their leisure. 

 "Greetings, Constable Fraser and Detective Vecchio! May I compliment you
on your costumes?" There was Constable Turnbull, who was putting the final
touches on his jack o' lantern that sat in the middle of the snacks and
drinks. It had a very sickly expression carved into it's face and there
was a disturbing trail of pumpkin guts, seeds and all, leading from the
mouth of the hollow orb onto the table, indicating the poor thing had
regurgitated it's own entrails. Fraser and Vecchio were struck silent, not
knowing whether to comment on the pumpkin's appearance or Rennie's. 

 The blond Constable was decked out in a fine facsimile of the Greek god
Pan, complete with a painted greenish torso, short, stubby horns and the
brown, hairy legs of a goat. Somehow, that bazaar sight did not keep the
Italian from seeing Elaine mixing the punch out of the corner of his eye.
She wore a country-style, blue plaid dress, white hose, carrying a picnic
basket that had flaps that opened on either end. Her hair was divided in
the front and braided into two separate ponytails in the back. 

 "Um...Ray? Isn' she...?" 

 Is was then Kari popped her head out of the basket, meowing up a storm.
By the noise, it was obvious the black, vivacious cat was not pleased at
being a Toto substitute and was not going to let it go unannounced. 

 "Keri! Hush! You're causing a commotion again!" Elaine admonished her
pet. 

 Ray grinned fully, but it wasn't until he saw the ruby slippers did he
burst out laughing. "She's dressed as 'Dorothy'! That is so cool!" 

 Fraser, of course, immediately began to elaborate. "Ah, yes! I remember
the novel, 'The Wizard of Oz' by L. Frank Baum. It was originally printed
at the turn of the century and was adapted to the screen in 1939 in the
spectacular film by the same name." 

 Ray turned, stared at him, turned away, turned back and stared again. "I
bet you read the original version of 'Bambi - A Life in the Woods',
complete with the furry bloodbath." 

 The Mountie was indignant. "Yes, I did read that book and I wouldn't
exactly call it a bloodbath. But, it was much more realistic than the
version Mr. Disney presented." 

 Ray would've commented, but he saw someone coming towards him over
Fraser's shoulder. The cop's eyes nearly fell out and he nearly doubled
over laughing again. 

 "Okay, can it, Vecchio!" Huey snapped, adjusting his straw hat. "You
ain't exactly full of dignity right now either!" 

 Ray could not stop giggling, but he was able to at least stand upright to
speak. "Oh, man! I knew you guys bet as to who would dress up as who, but
I didn't think you'd all lose! Tell me, does the hay itch?" 

 "Shut up, Vecchio!" 

 A silver arm extended itself passed the Mountie wielding a small cup
filled with a neon-yellow concoction. "Here's your punch, Huey. Hey,
excellent costume, Fraser!" 

 Fraser turned and did a double take at the sight of Louis Gardino, who
was painted metallic silver, encased in a long tube, complete with funnel
hat. A deadpan "Thank you kindly." was all the Canadian could manage. 

 By now, Ray was practically guffawing. He was pink in the cheeks, eyes
watering and could barely compose himself enough to speak. "This is so
rich! My God, I wish I had a camera!" 

 "Hey, you ain't got no reason to be talkin', knobby knees!"Gardino
retorted. 

 The Italian "Mr. Jordan" sobered at that. "Who you calling 'knobby
knees', you Dorothy-wannabe!" 

 "What?! How dare you! Why, I'll-" The Italian Tin Man angrily sputtered. 

 "Don't get in a huff, Louis." The urban Scarecrow said. "Your makeup will
melt." 

 That calmed the silver Detective, but the quiet did not last long. There
was a screech from the other side of the room, making all heads turn in
that direction simultaneously. There, in the doorway, stood Francesca, her
eyes hysterical with glee and trained on The Phantom. It took a second for
Ray to see she was holding a large cane, the kind used by a shepherd. At
her feet was Diefenbaker, wearing funny looking ears and a tight, curly
sweater, which made him look like a poor imitation of a sheep. In shock,
Vecchio dropped the basketball and it was ignored by all as it bounced
several feet away. 

 "Diefenbaker?" four voices chimed in unison. All the wolf-husky hybrid
could do was whine in reply. 

 "BENTON! Oh, my GOD! You look wonderful!" 

 Frannie sashayed across the room wearing what had to be the most
revealing Little Bo Peep outfit ever designed. Ray gaped at the frilly
undergarments that were quite visible and stopped high on her thigh and
barely covered her boobs. At second glance, Ray had to realize the outfit
must actually be on the thigh to be high on it. 

 "Frannie! What the Hell are you wearing!? I can't believe this!" Ray
stammered as he repeatedly circled his sister, his arms flapping about. 

 Multiple layers of short, white, lacy petticoats elevated the skirt
portion to nearly waist level, causing her behind to blatantly poke out
from under the powder blue mini-dress. Her bosom was pushed up by a
sinfully tight corset and bursting out everywhere. The male Vecchio
roughly nudged Gardino in the ribs, who vocally protested, even though he
was having a hard time keeping his eyes off that ruffled female posterior.
Ray wound up instinctively grabbing Fraser's cloak and trying to cover his
little sister, which gave Frannie the opportunity to snuggle up to the
cape's owner while Ray looked on in horror. 

 "Oh, Benton! I just love 'The Phantom of the Opera!' Well, honestly, I
haven't see it. When it's here in Chicago, there's usually a great sale
going on at one of the department stores at the same time. But you
shouldn't hide you face like that! You are nowhere near as ugly as he
was...I mean, that is not to say you are ugly at all, of course.(laugh,
giggle) You know I think you're gorgeous! Oh, yeah! By the way, do you
like my outfit?!" 

 Ray was getting flustered due to all the chaos, creating slight
dizziness. It didn't help when Frannie twirled in front of them, the
blending of blue and white reminding Ray of the sky and clouds mixing
together. It was rather warm in the room and Vecchio could tell if he was
getting agitated, then Fraser had already reached his tolerance level. It
didn't take much for the Constable to feel the effects of stimulation
overload. The Detective suddenly remembered something which just might
help redirect his sister's passions. 

 "Leave him be, Frannie. I know you got here late, but you still promised
Elaine and Turnbull you'd help finish the decorations." 

 The female Vecchio pushed out her lower lip, and with a few choice words,
she disentangled herself from the Constable Phantom. Ray knew he'd have to
keep an eye on her or she'd be bugging Benny all night. Not that he could
really blame her. Fraser did look striking in the role of a love-tortured,
musical genius. The Italian sighed. No matter what Benny did or did not
say, the truth was inevitable and if the Detective didn't mention it, the
Mountie would be in a funk for weeks. 

 The Detective retrieved a couple of glasses of punch, and handed a cup to
his partner and told the truth. "You look good, Fraser." 

 That made the Mountie perked up. "As do you, Ray." 

 Ray sipped at his own drink. "Ah, you ain't gotta' say that, Benny. I'm
not the one the girls are screaming over." 

 "But that still does not mean your costume is any less appealing, Ray."
the Mountie stated. 

 Vecchio nearly choked. Angry at Benny's condescending attitude, he faced
him. "Oh, give it up, Fraser! I ain't never gonna' be at your level and
you know it!" 

 Surprisingly, the Mountie became silent and there was the most determined
glint in his eyes, considering one was mostly covered by the mask. The
Detective's friend looked passionately resigned...and strangely judgmental
as his gaze swept over the Italian from his head to his feet. If he didn't
know any better, he'd think Benny was giving him one Hell of a sexy once
over. Vecchio also wasn't sure if the character Benny was playing was
starting to seep into that thick Canadian skull. 

 "I never said you weren't what is considered 'my level'." Fraser
whispered. 

 Ray's voice was gone. He couldn't find it under that heated evaluation.
He cheeks were growing hot and his body was quite tingly all of a sudden.
It made matters worse when Benny let his eyes float closed and tilted his
head to one side, a curiously exciting gesture. "This outfit is making me
overly warm, Ray. I don't know how much longer I can stay here. How about
you, Ray? Are you getting cold?" 

 Cold is the last thing I'm feeling, Benny. 

 "Attention, everyone!" Elaine announced. "Now is the time for the costume
contest." 

 Huey was standing beside Elaine when he loudly stated, "Why don't the
rest of us guys go home? We already know who won." 

 "Hush!" snapped Ms. Bresbriss. "All contestants please come to the
front." 

 Ray noticed there was a line of the oddest collection of creatures in
attendance. Most of the women came as a witch(how utterly boring), but
there were a few convincing zombies amongst the guys. A couple of clowns
dotted the array(redundant for the precinct), as well as a female fairy or
two. Those who didn't have time to make or buy a costume was given silly
name tags that read "Criminal for a Day" or "disgruntled employee"(since
they look that way every day). Suddenly, total silence descended on the
room. Vecchio couldn't figure out what was going on until he saw a huge,
furry lion-like figure come in and took his place at the end of the line,
tail in hand. Ray started to bite his lip to the point of near bleeding to
keep from even looking like he wanted to laugh. 

 The blond-furred beast, the one who'd really lost the bet as to who would
dress up as whom, looked around, grimaced, looked around again and finally
announced, "If I hear one word out of any of you, I swear I'll make sure
they're doing nothing but paperwork for a year. Besides, this is for
charity! Is that understood?" 

 "Yes, Lieutenant!" the crowd quickly responded. 

 The Not-So-Cowardly Lion seemed pleased with that, so the contest
continued. The judges were made up of those folks in the mail room, who'd
been costuming and attending science fiction and fantasy conventions for
years. Lori in dispatch got third runner up for her portrayal as a
zombie(she'd invested in some creepy white contact lenses) and Lana from
Records won first place for her elaborate angel outfit, complete with
wings she'd made herself. Second prize went to Francesca for her
flirtatious Little Bo Peep get-up. Ray cynically remarked she deserved it
for remembering to bring the shepherd's cane. There was a tie between the
Duck Boys/Elaine/Harding for third place and Rennie took home an Honorable
Mention for his interpretation of the Greek deity. And, of course, it was
no surprise to anyone that Fraser won first place. 

 "We won, Benton! We won!" Frannie exclaimed, waving around her
certificate. 

 "Congratulations, Francesca." Benny was smiling, happy for his fellow
contestant. 

 "Don't even try to invite him to dinner or whatever else you have in
mind, Frannie. He's done enough performing for you tonight, Fran." Ray
interrupted. "It's late and I have to take the Phantom home. Insane
conductors get cranky when they don't get enough sleep. Come on, Benny." 

 "Ray! I'll have you know I have a date tonight." 

 "Not in that outfit, you don't!" 

 "And who's gonna' stop me?!" 

 "Hey, Vecchio!" yelled the cop in the Scarecrow costume. "I almost
tripped over your basketball!" 

 "Well, watch where you're walking from now on!" 

 That caused the shortest Tin Man in town to speak up. "How'd you like for
me to ram that ball up your snout!? There's plenty of room!" 

 All grew silent once a looming shadow fell across them. It was the most
imposing member of the large cat family around. "Gentleman...this
disgruntlement is not permitted in my precinct. Or are you all not aware
of that? Perhaps a few months of walking a beat in uniform would refresh
your memories." 

 "Um, no, sir. We are fully cognizant of your polices, sir." Vecchio could
almost hear the other Detectives thinking he was a kiss-ass, which he
didn't care about if being amiable to the Lieutenant meant not being stuck
patrolling the city on foot for the last part of the year. Stern, lion
eyes scanned his workers skeptically, then padded away, tail in hand. 

 "Come on, Fraser! Come get your award!" Elaine called out. 

 "Ah. Yes. Of course." 

 It was almost like being in a dream, Vecchio noted. His co-employees were
applauding Benny as he went to the front of the room. The Italian
Detective looked at the crowd of worshipers, the throng of Mountie
devotees, clapping and cheering for The Phantom of Chicago...and wondered
if this was what is was always going to be like all the time. Would Fraser
continue to be in the spotlight and him on the sidelines? But it wasn't
the fame or adulation Ray craved. Well, at least not much. It was more the
fact that Benny was blinded by such adoration. Not that the Constable
would become arrogant or that he would even enjoy the laurels heaped upon
him, but that maybe, someday, it was possible...no, more than likely, the
handsome do-gooder would encounter that one person, a special individual
who would finally get the Canadian to rescue them in more ways than one. 

 "Come on, Benton! Sing us a few chords!" an eager female called out. 

 "Oh. My. Well.(clears throat) My voice is not honestly trained for opera
and-" 

 "Oh, come on, Fraser! You can do it!" another young woman encouraged. 

 "Ah. I see. Um...very well." 

 Ray let his head fall. There was no way he could save Benny from this
fate...or of the one he was predicting. He'd be torn apart by every woman
in here if he tried. They were poised on their tiptoes as the melodious
voice of the Mountie filled the room. The Detective couldn't stop it, just
as one day, he would be removed from the Canadian's every day life, traded
for the love of a soulmate. And Vecchio would be forced not only to watch,
but be expected to participate. Would he be Fraser's best man at his
wedding? Would he babysit his children, go shopping with the Mountie's
wife? Or would he spend time alone with Benny, wondering if he'd outstayed
his welcome? And why did all of those images seem so bittersweet? 

 **No more talk of darkness, 
 forget these wide eyed fears, 
 I'm here, nothing can harm you, 
 my words will warm 
 and calm you. 
 Let me be your freedom, 
 let daylight dry your tears. 
 I'm here, with you, 
 beside you, 
 to guard and to guide you.** 

 Hell, from all the attention generated by the cases they solved, Vecchio
could see it was a miracle that someone hadn't come along by now to sweep
the Mountie off his feet. Given, the man seemed scared of most women,
actually running away from them at times. That knowledge used to give Ray
fuel to believe maybe Benny might have a rather 'sweet step', maybe even
that he'd had some of the same feelings the Italian was experiencing. But
looking at the people around him, Fraser's fan club was already enormous
and there was no sign there would ever be a shortage of members. Oh sure,
the Italian may presently be the General Manager of such an organization,
but how long could that last in the face of such overwhelming competition?


 **Say you'll love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of
summertime. Say you'll need me with you now and always, promise me that
all you say is true.
 That's all I ask of you. 
 Let me be your shelter, 
 let be your light. 
 Your safe, 
 no one will find you, 
 your fears are far behind you** 

 Ray's chest ached with the pain of a loss yet to come. There was a rival
out there somewhere, a challenger he hadn't even met. Benny's sheltered
upbringing and his general attitude toward women constituted a volatile
recipe for such a relationship. Vecchio would bet the house there was a
female in Fraser's past that had hurt him deeply or was yet to enter the
gentle man's life and turn it upside down. And the naive, lonesome Canuck
would fall to his death for her because that was the way Benny loved, with
all his heart and soul. 

 Fraser would never totally leave him, would never turn his back on him.
But that unique spark in his eye would be for the future owner of the
Mountie's heart. But yes, they would be friends forever. But not best
friends. That title would be transferred to the lady who would take his
place. One day, that duel for Fraser's affections would occur and the
Italian would lose to that unknown suitor. 

 **All I want is freedom, a world with no more night...and you always
besides me to hold and to hide me .** 

 Suddenly, the youngest Vecchio boy felt more exposed and naked and ugly
in his own skin than ever before. The bald head, the big nose and the
gangly body looked a Hell of a lot less attractive than he anticipated and
he felt stupid for agreeing to this contest. Was that why Benny could
barely look at him this evening? Other negative aspects of their
friendship came back to plague the Detective. Not that the Mountie didn't
deserve it occasionally, but how could Ray expect him to put up with his
anger for forever? Or to endure his sarcasm and lack of total dedication
he had to his profession? There didn't seem to be much attractive about
the thirty-something flatfoot who didn't even have the masculine prowess
to call anyone his significant other. 

 **Then say you'll share me with one love, one lifetime. Let me lead you
from your solitude. Say you'll need me with you here beside you. Anywhere
you go, let me go too. Love me, that's all I ask of you.** 

 But as much as Vecchio tried to dismiss the evidence, the Mountie had to
know something of what was happening to the both of them. There were
times, although not many, that the Detective believed Benny was at least
participating in the sensual chemistry between them. Perhaps the Constable
was an conscious party to nuances and innuendo that even the so-called
'Italian Ladies Man' couldn't deny. But, if Fraser felt that way, why
hadn't he said anything? Vecchio quickly chided himself. Of course the
Mountie would never bring it up. 

 Just as with himself, Benny would have to recognize and come to terms
with it. But the man with blue-grey eyes would have a much more indirect
approach. Acting on it would be prefaced with a subtle courtship, causally
mentioned insinuation and being just a bit of a tease. All the while, the
Canadian would most likely be waiting for Ray to see this erotic two-step
for what it truly was and hope he would decide to become partners in the
rhythmic, musical movements. Was that what they'd been doing all this
time, performing a metaphoric tango of love? 

 **Anywhere you go, let me go too. 
 Love me, that's all I ask of you.** 

 And just what kind of a life would Ray be giving up? He'd tried his best
to run from bed to bed in hopes of finding...what? The sex was good, but
lacking at times. A deeper connection was harder to establish. He'd made a
fool of himself more times than not, racking up ways to chase women,
inventing silly methods and endorsing stereotypes, all so he could get
laid. Which, in truth, rarely happened. He'd heard the horror stories of
the one-night-stand crowd, endure the tortures of dating and played a hand
in the destruction of his own marriage. 

 He began to comprehend where this night was taking him, as it was
unfurling before him, like the cloak Fraser wore. He was standing at a
precipice, a gigantic step. It was possible he was wrong, but he doubted
it. It didn't seem like he was making a big mistake. Besides, there was
too much to lose if he didn't. The very idea of being second in Fraser's
life was scary enough to override his fear of failure. So with Benny
standing before the Italian's colleagues, stammering, at a loss for words
and eventually breaking into song, Ray Vecchio decided to take the chance
and before the night was over...would see if his partner wanted to dance. 

 The Italian was making his way towards the Constable, when the cop heard
the most unusual sound, like country music being played on a flute. He
rounded the corner, only to see a rather curious presentation. It was Ren,
green and hairy, in a secluded corner, playing the musical pipes designed
to bring about feelings of freedom, joy, lust and love. And if that
bizarre sight wasn't enough, he was playing for Francesca! The blue-eyed
Constable looked so much at ease...not the stiff, clumsy dolt he'd seen
before. Ren could be such a clumsy puppy, few knew how to handle him.
Light azure eyes looked up at Frannie. The contrast between the jade
makeup was alarming. 

 "Would you care to hear this song I'm working on? I've almost finished
learning it." 

 "Please! I'd love to." she said, obviously flattered at the offer. "What
song are you trying to learn?" 

 "I'm not sure of the artist, but I believe the melody is about a bear." 

 He started playing and it took a minute, but both Vecchio's figured it
out and Ray had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing, and being
discovered eavesdropping. Fran, however, couldn't help but giggle at the
sweet Canadian's adorable rendition of the famous Elvis track where he
implores to be his beloved's stuffed animal. 

 "What?" he guilelessly asked at her amusement. 

 "Nothing, Ren."she said. "Keep playing. I like it." 

 Ray went in the other direction, ever-so-grateful he'd at least not have
to worry too much about Frannie, should tonight be a success. 

 "Ah, Ray. There you are. Are you ready to leave now?" 

 "Ready as I'll ever be. Let's go, Benny." 

 Vecchio noticed the Mountie was unusually silent. Although he couldn't
see much of his face, the expression Fraser wore was either a cold veneer
or discontent. He had to get the Canadian talking if the Detective was
going to figure out what was up. They were in the Riv, almost to West
Racine, when the Italian asked the question again, the same one he'd asked
earlier. Somehow, he could tell there was more to this story than Benny
simply dressing up and attending the party to have fun. 

 "So why 'The Phantom', Benny? I can't believe you'd even heard of the
character, let alone know the stage play." 

 Oddly enough, Fraser turned to look out the window, his tone somber. "I
became familiar with the works of Andrew Lloyd Webber as part of the
research I did on American culture." 

 Vecchio attempted to lighten the mood. "Well, just tell me if you plan to
haunt the Consulate anytime soon." 

 "No, Ray." the Mountie gave him a slight smile before continuing. "I was
fascinated by the success of the tale that's been told so many times
before. It was a simple, even repetitive composition of music and lyrics,
but I still found it quite moving and beautiful. I was quite surprised
when I discovered I enjoyed this particular stage version. " 

 The Riv was parked and the two men got out and climbed the three flights
of stairs, Fraser's cloak majestically floating along. Once inside, Benny
walked over the window and stared down into the street below. Vecchio
turned on the light in the kitchen, leaving the front room dark. Ray
stared at his friend, who was enshrouded in the low light. The Italian was
getting closer to the mountain's edge, at the ledge of his big move, but
refused to back down. Normally, at a quiet time like this, the Detective
would've ran away from the possibilities before him. But he had not
forgotten what brought him here. The idea of losing this man to anyone was
enough to make the cop sit up and take notice. 

 "Benny? Are you okay?" 

 It took a few seconds before Fraser answered. "Do you realize you are the
only one who asked me why?" 

 "Ask you why...what?" Ray inquired as he closed the door. 

 "Why I dressed as I did." he let his head fall back and sighed. "I don't
know if I should be offended everyone sees me as this character -
solitary, highly intelligent, talented...but mentally unsound. They
obviously think it is suitable enough to not even question my wanting to
become him for the night. Or perhaps I should be pleased you were curious
enough to wonder." 

 "Do you think you're alone, Benny?" 

 "Not alone, Ray, but...removed. I stand apart from society, mostly as a
spectator. Very rarely do I engage in my surroundings as a means of
enjoyment. That is, of course, until I met you." 

 "That doesn't sound like it makes you very happy." Ray stated. 

 In fact, Benny looked miserable. The Mountie did not answer him, instead
taking off his black hat and placing it on the table. He removed the mask,
studying it as he spoke. "I don't discount your friendship, Ray. I greatly
appreciate the association I share with you. To answer your question,
I...became this persona so that I could remind myself of who I am. Like
him, I have a slim chance of succeeding in my attempts to align myself
with the mainstream." 

 Ray didn't have to be an avid lover of the stage to know the fate of the
Phantom, no matter what the version. The crazed tenor spent the rest of
his life in solitude or was crushed by the famous chandelier. The cop
could not believe it. Fraser was depressed and was being very vocal about
it, albeit in roundabout and distorted manner. Benny slicked back his damp
hair and squeezed his eyes together to shut out the sweat. He tried to
wipe away the stinging salt water, not bothering to remove the white
gloves. 

 "Ah, Benny, geez...why don't you take the outfit off since it's making
you so uncomfortable?" The Detective came forward, lifting the hem of his
jersey to aid in alleviating his friend's pain. 

 Ray dabbed at his eye gently, fully aware of where his actions would
lead. Benny allowed the deed, then smiled briefly. "Thank you, Ray." 

 But the Italian did not back off. He hadn't stumbled blindly into the
Mountie's personal space this time. He refused to play to wide-eyed,
dumfounded fool who wanted out immediately. Instead, he locked eyes with
the beautiful Canadian. "My pleasure." 

 The man before him looked into his face and searched for a reason, a
meaning behind the intimate gesture. It took only a short time for Benny
to become unsettled and look everywhere but at him. 

 "Hey, hey, don't start that again." Ray gently told him. "You've been
doing that all night. I know I look kinda' weird, but you don't have to
get embarrassed over it. And what's all this stuff about 'not succeeding'?
Did you see that horde of people surrounding you at the station? They
loved you." 

 "A prophet is revered, save for his own country. Listen, Ray, I'm not
ashamed of the way you're dressed." Fraser said, with his head down. "In
fact, I must say it is quite flattering. W-would...you please leave now?" 

 "No, I will not leave now. You look like you're ready to fall apart. And
your face is flushed." 

 Vecchio pressed the back of his hand to Fraser's rosy cheek. The Canadian
flinched a bit and leaned against the wall for support. The key that clued
Vecchio in was the simple fact Fraser had not rebuffed his contact. 

 "Is this what you wanted, Benny?"he softly asked. 

 The cop's heart was beating like mad as he slipped his arm under the
robes, around the distraught man, pulling him closer, until their bodies
were fully touching, all the while looking into down-turned eyes. The
Italian caressed his friend's cheek with his thumb and lightly nuzzled his
face against Fraser's, leaving no ambiguity as to his intent. Fraser
seemed paralyzed, asleep on his feet for all those watching, but the
Detective knew better. He waited until he saw that tiny nod from his
partner. He came even closer and whispered, "Me, too." 

 With that, Ray Vecchio kissed his best friend. The cop groaned, the
moment sparking his spirit and his hunger. He kept it gentle and brief,
allowing the time for Mountie to adjust and join in. It took a minute, but
Fraser finally responded to the building passion. Tongues and lips soon
were involved and the Detective was having a hard time seeing straight and
staying on his feet. He leaned into Benny to keep from collapsing,
especially when the Mountie slipped his hand around the back of Ray's neck
and continued the kisses onto his long neck and near his ear. 

 "How long have you known?" Fraser inquired. 

 "A while now, but I was too scared to try anything." 

 "You...you don't have to pity me, Ray." Fraser was saying. "I
appreciate...this and I apologize profusely. I'm afraid it was your attire
that caused my wanton mood." 

 "Benny," Ray said, irritated at the gloomy tirade, "what are you going on
about? You could barely look at me tonight." 

 The Constable's eyes were now a deep blue from excitement and roamed over
the American's body in a predatory manner, his breathing far out of
control. "I didn't dare keep my eyes fixated on you for more than a minute
at a time. It wasn't just the fact that so very much of you is exposed to
me, but it's...what I couldn't see that I couldn't stop thinking of." 

 Long, slow kisses started at Ray's chin and distributed down the forward
slope of his throat. "What...do you mean?" Vecchio managed to get out. 

 "Under it, Ray. What are you wearing under the uniform?" 

 "What? Oh. OH!" he practically shouted once he understood. The Italian
couldn't help but smile. "So, Benny, the idea of me a wearing a jockstrap
has you all turned out?" 

 "Yes." Fraser growled and proceeded to kiss Ray for all he was worth.
Afterward, panting and breathless, he said, "I could withstand your
turtlenecks and the Armani suits, although they were difficult to get
past. But this, I just...I just couldn't..." he sighed, exasperated. 

 Ray was tickled at the Constable's flustered. "I know, Benny, I know.
When I saw you all decked out like this, I was sure I was gonna' get hard
right in front of you. 

 That shocked the Mountie. "Really?" 

 "Oh, you know you're gorgeous, Fraser. Hey, you're shaking. You okay?" 

 "I've...needed this for some time now, Ray, but I don't know what..." 

 It didn't take a genius to figure out what Fraser wanted. "You want me,
Benny? You need me?" 

 "Yes. Please." 

 The Mountie was blushing brighter than ever before. Ray could tell he was
highly humiliated, which honestly helped to ease some of the pressure of
this monumental event. Vecchio had planned on telling Fraser tonight;
acting on it wasn't exactly in the game plan. But the Italian was so very
turned on and wanted to please Benny so badly, getting between the sheets
was looking better by the second. "It's okay. If I'd have been a little
braver, I could've saved us all this trouble. Now...um, do you...pleasure
yourself?" 

 When Benny nodded, Ray went weak in the knees. Just the idea that the
controlled Mountie relieved 'tension' that way, and most likely while
thinking of the Italian, was enough to make Ray's desire even stronger. It
had him hot with the need to make the Mountie's fantasies come true. This
may have been the Detective's first time with a guy, but it was playing
out more natural and intense than most of his sexual encounters. "Well,
maybe we can do something like that, okay?" 

 Fraser was still mortified and barely moving. But when Ray removed his
cape, it motivated the Constable into helping Ray take off the layers of
clothing that made up the Phantom, draping items across the table, over
chairs and on doorknobs, until Benny was in his underwear and t-shirt. 

 "It won't take me long to get undressed." Ray joked. 

 That searching gaze came over the Canadian again and he muttered deeply,
"No, it won't." Before Ray could even form another thought, Benny had the
jersey off and was lightly brushing his face through Ray's chest hair. 

 "Oh, my..." Benny breathed. His eyes closed, he made his way over to one
of Vecchio's nipples. He rested his cheek against the pec before him. "May
I?" 

 The Italian was the one shaking now. He'd never had a lover suck on his
nips, let alone practically drool while asking permission. It caused his
cock to twitch while taking hold of the back of Fraser's head. "Yeah, go
ahead, Benny." 

 The Mountie placed his puckered lips around the tiny nub and let his
tongue do the rest. It had the Italian panting at the new sensation and
could barely stand to watch his friend in action, his groin pulsating with
every lap of that talented mouth. Before long, he was insisting, "Do the
other one, Benny, please." 

 Benny eagerly complied, now wrapping his arms around Ray and gripping at
his back. Vecchio wanted, needed more, so he pulled them backwards, toward
the narrow bed, snapping the light off as they went. He removed Fraser's
t-shirt, surprised to feel the rapid heartbeat under the beautiful chest
he'd exposed. The Italian sat on the bed and rubbed his face into Benny's
sweaty skin, the smell an incredible aphrodisiac. He pulled his lover down
until the Mountie was pushing Ray back and climbing on top. The Constable
retreated to a sitting position, straddling Ray and looking absolutely
handsome, but hesitant. 

 "What wrong?" Vecchio asked. 

 "Nothing, Ray. It's just...I've never done this." 

 The American felt he had to confirm what he was dealing with here. "You
mean with a guy or at all?" 

 The most sweetest smile came from above. "No Ray, I mean never with a
man." 

 "Me neither." came the relieved reply. Slowly, Ray ran his hands up and
down Benny's sides. "Let's see what we can discover." 

 Fraser let his head hang forward under the exploratory touches. "Agreed."
he breathed. 

 Benny's hand went flat on own his stomach to steady himself and get up
the courage to continue. He let his hand make it's way down into his
boxers and lower them enough to fully expose himself. It took a bit of
fumbling, but he soon had them off. Ray could not help letting his mouth
drop open at the sight of Fraser's uncut cock. However, he also could not
stop himself from reaching out and touching his friend's body some more.
The Detective let his hand pinch Fraser's left nipple and he was rewarded
with a sight he'd never forget. Benny's eyes rolled back and he faced the
heavens. With his hand wrapped around his own cock, Fraser yelled his
lover's name. "Ray!" 

 It prompted Vecchio to take Fraser's other nip and rolled it between them
both between his fingers and thumb. So overwhelmed, the man on top lost
his inhibitions and began to beat off right in front of him. Quick,
hurried jerks of his wrist almost had Ray fainting. "Hey, slow down, this
isn't a contest. Here, let me join you." 

 The Italian let his hand grip at his own concealed dick as Fraser looked
on, eyes transfixed on the Detective's red and white shorts. Vecchio
thrust up to take them off when he heard the most demur request. 

 "Ray...please...may I remove them?" Benny sounded like he was going to be
totally crushed if Ray said no. 

 "Sure, go ahead." the Italian encouraged. 

 The Mountie let his hands and excited gaze flit all over, working Ray
into an excited fit. Never before had Vecchio been this eager to get on
with it. He restrained that urge and let Benny do his thing. Finally,
Fraser slowly, in almost a ceremonial fashion, peeled the shorts down and
off the Italian's long legs. Once the athletic supporter was visible,
something delicate snapped inside the Canadian, his surrender just as
gentle. 

 "Oh, God, Ray..." He laid down on top of his partner and Vecchio's arms
went around the man above him, shocked at Benny's lips on his, their
combined rapid breathing and the Mountie's cock rubbing against his own
blanketed member. Fraser raised himself up on his arms and thrust against
Ray's bulging crotch. The mesh cloth created delicious friction and Benny
was obviously getting off on it like crazy, so overtaken by arousal, he
was beside himself. The Italian countered that rhythmic action, enjoying
the fact the Canadian was loving this so much, as much as he was. 

 "Damn, Benny, you are so beautiful." He'd done it again, spoken aloud,
when all he'd intended to do was think his praise. 

 "And you, sir, are a demon of temptation." He took hold of one of Ray's
hands and let his face skim the tips. "All flowing grace, with a
passionate devotion to all close to you...and an indisputable lust...for
life, love and pleasures of the flesh." He kissed the palm reverently.
"How was I suppose to resist that ultimate combination?" 

 Ray gulped. He'd never been judged as such and found to be so valuable by
anyone in the past. "I...I don't know, Benny." 

 The streetlight glowed off Benny's pale skin, causing streaks of
blackish-blue in his hair. Fraser inspected Vecchio's hand closely while
speaking, "Of course you don't. It wasn't intentional that your very
nature would make me at first simply consider this union, then eventually
crave it like the air I breathe." He placed the hand down on the Italian's
raging erection. "Show me, Ray, what I've longed for." 

 Jeez, Benny, can you make a guy feel any more on the spot?! Ray silently
said. 

 Despite the Detective's performance anxiety, he took hold of the elastic
rim and pulled it down far enough to let his stiffness feel the cool night
air. He tucked it under his balls, hoisting them up just a bit, then let
his hand glide over the wet tip of the weeping cockhead. Under Fraser's
mesmerized gaze, he curled his fingers around it and closed his eyes as he
started pumping. A few strokes into it, he murmured, "Join me, Benny." 

 Barely affected by Ray's words, the Mountie proceeded to work over his
own hardness, his eyes never leaving the steady hand movements of his
partner. It was wild and exciting to have Benny being such a voyeur. A few
times he played with himself just for Fraser's benefit, caressing the taut
balls with the other hand and watching his own wrist action. He looked at
Benny's handiwork and found it just as hypnotic. The foreskin still hugged
the shaft, even fully erect. The tip of the glistening head was quite
visible and Ray was fascinated by the way Fraser cupped his own ballsack
with one hand and expertly manipulated himself with the other, the sticky
sounds matching perfectly. Ray's eyes took in all of his lover's delicious
form, his heart constricted at meeting Benny's eyes. His head fell back on
the bed, the pressure in his balls rising dramatically. 

 "Damn it, Benny, you're turning me on something fierce!" 

 "Just by my watching you?" The Mountie asked, genuinely curious. 

 "Oh, dear God, yes!" Vecchio whimpered and resumed his frantic jerking
off, desperate to bask in that blissful glow, egged on by his solo
audience who was also part of the show. At this rate, it wouldn't take
long for him to show Benny his finale. That image, that sight, of his
discharge coating them both was enough to make Ray reach the next plateau.
An insistent, but kind hand encircled his arm and brought him to a halt.
He knitted his brow, but was silenced by a finger over his lips. It didn't
escape the Detective's attention that Fraser's hand was slick with
pre-cum. "I'm sorry, Ray, but it is something I must do." 

 When Benny backed off, Ray licked his lips, finding the taste not unlike
his own. He saw the Mountie get up and place the cotton strap back over
Vecchio's aching cock just like when they started. He ducked his head down
and before the Italian could speak, Fraser was face deep in the jockstrap,
absorbing the musky scent and letting the faint sweat rub into his
resplendent skin. The Detective gripped the covers under him. The erotic
carnage Fraser displayed was driving Vecchio crazy. He didn't know the
Mountie could feel such things, let alone show it. Watching the Canadian
was just making it worse. He felt the stretchy lines being pulled and Ray
knew Benny was taking it off again. The Italian looked up and the sight
was burned into his mind. Fraser was using his teeth to remove the flimsy
underwear. He helped his lover remove it completely, but became perplexed
when the Mountie hovered above his waiting erection. 

 "What's wrong, Benny?" 

 "Ray, may I...may I taste you?" 

 Once again, for all his desire, the Constable was still quite shy and
reserved. The Italian chose his words carefully. He wanted the other man
to know it was okay to go a little crazy with this. "Do anything you like,
Benny. But I gotta' warn ya', I'm pretty close." 

 "As am I, Ray." his lover growled as he let his supple lips engulf the
top half of Ray's cock. 

 "...jesus!" the Detective softly exclaimed and did everything he could to
keep from grabbing the back of Benny's head and shoving it down further.
He seized the pillow behind him and tossed his head from side to side. He
could not help, however, voicing his pleasure. "Oh, yeah, Benny, do that,
do it, yeah...that is so good...don't stop..." 

 "Yes! I knew it!" the Mountie said triumphantly, letting the wetness slip
from his lips. 

 "W-what is that?" 

 "That you were not a quiet lover. I'd hoped I would be able to hear your
approval." 

 "God, Benny...how can I not say something? But, please don't stop because
I can't shut my mouth." 

 "As you wish." Fraser replied with a longing look at his target before
lovingly sucking it back in. The pleasure was unreal. Ray's head was
spinning. He didn't know if it was some Inuit technique his friend was
using or if the Mountie just had that good of an imagination, but the
Detective was losing touch with reality at Fraser's stunning oral talents.
He gasped as a smooth cheek and rough tongue glided over his hot nuts that
were ready to explode. He yanked his dick up so Benny could reach them
better, sneering at the incredible elation of having his scrotum licked.
Instinct had him jacking himself like mad. The thrilling combination of a
hand on his dick and the blessed treatment his balls were getting pushed
Vecchio over the edge. 

 "Fraser...Benny, I'm...going to come..." 

 The Constable gave a few wide licks and backed off, once again observing
his lover commit this mainly solitary act. 

 He's watching me...oh, dear, God...he's going to see me... Ray heard his
mind saying. 

 He lurched off the bed, the tingling in his back, thighs and stomach
melted into one convulsive wave of exquisite joy after another. The white
gold came out at first in quick spurts, then as long streams of release.
It shook Ray to the core, causing a ripple in his very soul and he knew
for certain this was what he'd been looking for all those years in those
he'd hoped to seduce. Once it was over, pearly drops were everywhere,
including Benny's sleek torso. 

 "Sorry." Ray mumbled, not confessing how sexy Fraser looked defiled as
such. 

 "Offended is the last thing I am, Ray." Fraser ran his middle finger down
the center of his chest and stomach, directly through the beautiful mess.
He gingerly licked the sample, savoring the flavor. The Canadian inhaled
deeply, loving the smell and took his dick into his hand, curling it into
a tunnel. The Detective eased his hands along Benny's thighs and up his
sides, just like Fraser had done for him. 

 "Yeah, Benny, enjoy it. You can do it, come on, just relax...." The stoic
Mountie gasped deeply, repeatedly, upon hearing Ray's soft voice urging
him to finish. His whole body flushed a warm red and he started a
continuous groaning, a guttural moan from deep in his throat. The
Constable's hand was frenzied with it's task and the small pink balls were
nearly drawn up entirely from harboring their contents. "That song you
sung tonight." Ray said, "That was for me, wasn't it?" 

 "Yes!" the Mountie declared. 

 "You'll never be alone like that, Benny, not if I can help it. I plan on
making you feel this good...as often as possible...for as long as I can." 

 "Ahh! Ahh, God, yes!" Benny cried out as he felt the thick cream splash
into his hand and slicked it up, aiding in the pumping. Utter ecstacy
washed through the Mountie and he gave in to the brilliant rapture,
laughing, almost crying. Fraser raised up, until he was nearly on just his
knees, the spasms still racking his tense form, squeezing every last drop
he could out of his half limp appendage. Ray was quite moved, seeing such
exuberant exhibition in a normally prudish person. The man above him
sagged his shoulders, his eyes drooped, wiped out from the experience. 

 "Come here, Benny." Vecchio cooed, accepting the tired man into his own
heavy arms. 

 The Canadian was quiet again. The Italian knew why, but let the aura
around them continue for the time being. He let his hand drift up the
Mountie's back and felt the shivers of the other man. He hugged his lover
as he spoke. "I'm not pitying you, Benny. I wanted this, well, not as much
as you, but I did need for you to know how I felt." 

 "It must've been difficult for you to finally say something." 

 "Very! But, I saw the congregation of your church at the precinct tonight
and realized that I'd better say something before it was too late." 

 "Too late for what?" 

 Vecchio grinned. "Ah, you know what I mean, Fraser. How some damsel in
distress was going need you to save her and steal you away from me." Benny
stiffened, suddenly struck with what seemed like fear. Ray wasn't sure how
to respond, since he didn't know exactly what was causing such a reaction.
"Well, I know you wouldn't be able to help it, Benny. Love is blind and
can be pretty overwhelming at times. Scary, too. We all get lost in it,
you know. " 

 The Mountie relaxed a little, but still appeared far away in thought. "I
confess I have mistaken extraordinary events for love, Ray. There was
someone...I cared a great deal for, despite her nature. It did not end
well. I...regret the pain I caused her, but thought I was doing the right
thing at the time. It would've been possible for me to love her again, if
she let me." 

 The Italian's stomach got queasy at the thought of Fraser wanting to love
someone else after tonight. "If she came back into your life now, would
you want to be with her?" 

 The Canadian lifted his head and smiling eyes met Ray's worried gaze.
"No, Ray. I already have someone special in my life. I'm not saying it
would be easy, but no, I wouldn't want to be with her." 

 The answer both pleased and surprised the Detective. This woman must've
done a real number on Benny for him to still be so guilt-ridden and
yearning for her. "Well, I'm just glad I got to you first." 

 "As am I." Fraser drowsily said. 

 "Go to sleep, Benny." 

 The Detective closed his eyes and told himself he'd have to thank Elaine
for the wonderful job she did with the party. He would have to put her on
his Christmas list. It would be only one more bank account he'd have to
open for that free gift. 

 P.S. If you want to see it, I have a picture of the "nauseous" pumpkin
Rennie carved for the party! 

End The Phantom of Chicago by LadyAna: LadyAna5@aol.com

Author and story notes above.