Transmutation     

This is story #5 of 6 in my "Alchemy" series. Alchemy, which originated in
the Middle Ages, was the art of transmuting baser metals into gold, and of
finding an elixir of life. This was an arduous, mysterious process
shrouded in secrets. It required great sacrifices from its practitioners,
but promised immense rewards to those who did not give up. Rather like the
process of finding love in the real world.... 

This story is M/M Fraser/Kowalski slash, and rated NC-17. 

Note: In this story, some time after the events in "Burning Down the
House", Fraser has found a new apartment instead of living at the Canadian
consulate. 

Disclaimer: Of course, these characters aren't mine. They belong to Paul
Haggis and Alliance. 

Caroline Alert (Ardrian15@aol.com) 

© November 12, 1999     Transmutation By Caroline Alert 

  

  

  

Ray and Ben undressed quietly, even a little awkwardly, each man hoping
the other wouldn't notice how nervous he was. They shot hungry glances at
each other as their clothes came off, both feeling they'd been apart for
years instead of just four months.  

Ray watched eagerly as Fraser quietly took off his uniform jacket. *No,
tunic,* he corrected himself, smiling as he recalled the Mountie's
precision with words. Ben was neat and precise about everythingexcept his
feelings for him, anyway. Fraser had taken a hell of a chance being with
him before; and he was taking even more of one now, in his willingness to
be with him again after he'd treated him badly. Thinking of that while he
watched him hang his tunic neatly over the back of a bedroom chair, Ray
was deeply touched, and glad that Ben had taken another chance on him.
He'd missed his prissy neatness, missed everything about him so much....
"Been a long time, huh, Ben?" he asked softly.	

Fraser nodded. "Yes."  

"Speakin' o' that...." Ray took a deep breath, not sure of how to say this
without telling Ben about Rylan, without giving things away that he still
didn't want Ben to know. But he had to say it, it was too important not
to. "Uh, I guess I should tell ya ... when I was in the hospital, I had an
AIDS test. I'm clean," he said, careful not to mention any names, any
specific reasons why he might not've been. But he knew Ben would put two
and two together anyway, that he'd know he'd been with someone else while
they were apart. Ray held his breath. 

Ben went still for a second. Ray watched him closely, but he turned away,
so he couldn't see his expression. "Thank you for telling me," was all he
said. His voice was quiet, revealing nothing. 

Ray let it go. It was clear that, while Ben must've drawn his own
conclusions, he wasn't going to quiz him about them. Relieved, Ray pulled
his shirt off, then unfastened the brace he'd been wearing around his
ribs, and tossed it onto the floor with a sigh of relief. He rubbed
absently at the spots on his chest where it had chafed his skin for a
moment. But he dropped his hands when he noticed that Ben was staring at
him. He smiled nervously. "Damn thing itches," he explained, wondering
what Ben was thinking. He wanted to walk over and take him in his arms
again, but the Mountie's intent gaze suddenly made him remember how he
looked. That his head was bandaged and his torso covered with fading
yellow and purple bruises and a gunshot scar.  

*Maybe he doesn't wanna make love to a guy who looks like he just went ten
rounds with a heavyweight, and lost.* He'd been so fixated on seducing Ben
that he'd forgotten how banged up he still was, and it embarrassed him. He
knew Ben had been aroused before when they danced, but maybe seeing his
battered body uncovered now was turning him off. "Umm ...you okay about
this, Frase?" he asked nervously. "I know I'm all messed up. So if
yer--turned off, ya know.... If ya don't want to, it's okay," he said.	

**************************************************************************
********* 

Ray tried to smile, but Fraser could see worry lurking behind it, a fear
of rejection. 

He was both surprised and touched. He hadn't realized Ray felt embarrassed
about his appearance, or he wouldn't have stared at him so openly. "No,
Ray, it's not that," he said hastily, to reassure him.	

If Ray had only known how terribly lonely and love starved he'd been since
their breakup, he wouldn't have doubted himself. Seeing his normally
tough, energetic partner quiet and vulnerable touched Ben's heart. It
awakened a strong sense of protectiveness, of tenderness in him, that
deepened his desire to painful levels. Ray's thinness, his slightly
weakened condition, only heightened his appeal. He'd been longing to make
love to him ever since he first saw him againand now that they were alone,
and Ray had started to undress, that need had intensified. When Ray took
his brace off and rubbed at his chest, his long, slender fingers brushing
a nipple, his mouth went dry. The fact that Ray clearly had no idea what
the innocent gesture had done to him only made it even more erotic.
"You're notunattractive, Ray," he added, trying to be helpful despite his
maddening desire. "No. Not at all." 

That was the understatement of the year. He was convinced that, even in
the midst of his torrid affair with Victoria, he had never found her as
incredibly alluring as Ray was to him now, despite his scars. When Ray
took off his rib brace and bared his torso, though his skin had regained
its usual healthy color, Fraser could see that it bore numerous large,
fading bruises and a raw-looking scar from his gunshot wound.  

But Fraser didn't see his still-healing wounds as ugly. To him, they were
evidence of Ray's courage, his strength, of the fact that he'd survived a
vicious attack that would've killed most people. To him, they were the
marks of a warrior; and he honored them. They didn't diminish Ray's
natural grace, either. He was sleek, slender but muscular, like a
thoroughbred or a greyhound. His slim dancer's body, with its hairless,
muscular chest and brown nipples, aroused Ben instantly. Remembering the
salty-sweet taste of those nipples, the way they'd once hardened under his
tongue, he was half out of his mind with desire.  

But despite his reassurance, Ray still looked hesitant. Though he stood
close to him, he didn't try to touch him or kiss him again. Fraser
realized that he hadn't convinced him of his desire, but he didn't know
what else to say, and frustration made it even worse. Talking about his
feelings had always been excruciatingly hard for him, and never more so
than now, when he wanted to make love, not talk.  

He would have needed the gifts of a poet to put all that he felt for Ray
into words: to tell him that bruised and bandaged as he was, with his blue
eyes shadowed with pain and uncertainty, he was still beautiful to him. So
beautiful that he wanted to hold him forever, to take his pain away into
himself, put his body in between Ray and the world, so no one could ever
hurt him again.... To say that he longed to touch him but was half afraid
to because Ray might've changed, because he might ask him to do things
that he found repugnant. And how could he tell Ray that he was just as
afraid of himself? Afraid that he might devour him if he put his hands on
him, because his hunger was so overwhelming. How could he admit that he
was terrified he might hurt Ray by mistake, in his passion, and make him
go away again?	

Part of him wanted to say all that, wanted to make Ray understand his
feelings, but the hunger inside him didn't care. That towering hunger just
wanted Ray, wanted him here. Now. Without further delay, without any more
kisses or foreplay or words. 

Ray eyed him worriedly. "You okay, Frayzh?"  

Ben searched his increasingly sexually obsessed mind for something
rational to say, that would reassure his partner. "Yes. I'm just ... a
little worried--about hurting you, I guess," he blurted at last. 

Ray grinned. "Izzat all? Promise I won't break. Come on, Ben," he teased.
He shifted a little on his feet, did a quick little bob and weave, even
pretended to jab at his chin as if they were sparring. "Come get me. Boom,
boom! Mmm! I'm ready for ya." 

Despite Ray's cocky grin and posture, Fraser doubted that. He very much
doubted that Ray could've withstood his mad, consuming desire when he was
at his best, let alone now, in his weakened condition. Considering his
injuries, he was surprised Ray could even move so swiftly. Though he
hadn't seemed stiff or in pain when they'd danced earlier, or when he'd
pulled his shirt over his head, he suspected that he might not be as fully
recovered as he was pretending to be. After all, just over a week ago, his
hands had been too weak to hold a cup of water. So throwing those rapid
mock punches might've hurt him a little. But he was touched that Ray
wanted him so much that he'd pretend they hadn't.  

So he gave in to his raging desire for a moment, and reached out to caress
him. *Surely one touch won't hurt him,* he told himself, drawing his
fingers gently down Ray's cheekbone to the edge of his mouth. But the
force of his own feelings shook him once again. He realized that this was
the first time he'd ever touched Ray's face when he was clean shaven, his
customary beard stubble temporarily gone. The unaccustomed smoothness of
the freshly shaven skin on his cheeks was very erotic. A new aspect of
Ray--intriguing. How would it taste? Feel under his tongue? The instant
his fingers touched that newly shaven skin, Ray's cheek muscle jumped in
response, and Ben wanted to take him. Possess him.  

He would've drawn back then, but Ray wouldn't let him.	

Kowalski caught his wrist and held it, turned his cheek into it so that
his fingers brushed his mouth. Then he kissed them, his face taut.
"Please, Benny Ben," he said hoarsely. "Don't tease me...." He pulled his
palm to his mouth and kissed it, touching the center with his warm tongue.
 

Fraser was taken by surprise. The caress sent a flash up his arm and
through his entire body, like a jolt of electricity. Combined with Ray's
use of his pet name and the hot look in his eyes, it threatened to
overwhelm his control. Desire swept over him like fire. Despite his
intention to take things slowly, he shivered, his cock hardening
instantly. He hadn't lost his fear or his need to protect Ray, but those
emotions were rapidly being pushed aside by the enormity of his desire.
"I'm not teasing you, Ray," he tried to say, but his voice came out
hoarse, more like a croak. 

He knew he should pull back, take his hand away, but he didn't. Instead,
he raised the one Ray had taken captive, and traced a finger over his
lips. They parted eagerly, and as their gazes locked, Ray sucked three of
Ben's fingers into his mouth, just like he had the morning after they'd
first made love. His blue eyes hot and tempting, he sucked them hard, as
if he were daring Ben to try to tell him again that the gesture was
meaningless. Daring him to lie, or to turn away from him again. 

Ben couldn't. That caress got to him like nothing else could have. It
tipped his growing desire over the edge into uncontrollable need.
Suddenly, he wanted to crush Ray in his arms, wanted to take him with an
urgency that stole his breath. Wanted to make love to him no matter what
the consequences might be for both of them. Deep inside, he felt a
primitive desire to take Ray so passionately that he would never leave him
againas Victoria had, as everyone he'd ever loved had. This time, he
wasn't going to let Ray get away. He pulled his hand away, wrapped his
arms around Ray and lowered his head. 

**************************************************************************
********* 

Much to Ray's surprise, his first break in his plan to seduce Fraser came
before they'd even finished undressing, let alone gotten into the shower.
Ben suddenly reached out and tentatively touched his face, and Ray seized
the moment. Taking that strong, square hand in his, he turned it over and
planted a hot, lingering kiss on its palm. But as usual when he was trying
to seduce Ben, the move backfired on him. He was trying to drive Ben
crazy, but doing it to himself instead, because even that little bit of
contact made him ache. And he wondered what Ben meant by touching him. Was
he trying to reach out to him this time, or was he going to pull away
again? *He's drivin' me fuckin' crazy, blowin' hot and cold like this.* As
he held onto Ben's hand tightly, somehow the plea, "Don't tease me,"
tumbled out of his mouth. He heard himself breathing hard as he waited for
his answer.  

"I'm not teasing you," the Mountie said, and his voice was a husky
near-whisper. 

*Yes!* Ray exulted secretly. He knew that tone: Ben was getting turned on
too, whether he wanted to be or not. Perfect. That made him even bolder.
Remembering the first time they'd made love, he drew three of Ben's
fingers into his mouth and suckled them. He looked Ben right in the eye
while he did it, used his gaze, his tongue, and his hungry mouth to tell
him that this time he wouldn't let him turn away, or push him away with
lies. This time was for keeps.	

Ben stared at him for a second, his eyes wide with stunned surprise as he
gave his fingers a long, gentle, sexy scrape with his teeth. Then he
finally broke. All at once, without a word, he pulled Ray close and kissed
him. Hard, demandingly, forcing his lips apart and going deep with his
tongue, fusing their bodies tightly together with his big, strong hands.
Gone was the shy, anxious Ben of a few minutes agoand in his place was a
wild man who forced his mouth open wide and sucked at his tongue,
groaning.  

*'Kay, Tiger Man--pounce me!* Ray thought, delighted.  

As if he could read his mind, Ben pulled him so tightly against his chest
that Ray could feel the hammering of his heart. His fingers dug into Ray's
back; his larger frame enveloped Kowalski's slighter one. Ray moaned aloud
at the sudden, unexpected, complete possession of his body and mouth.
Excitement spiked through him like a drug as he kissed Ben back. He loved
the taste of his mouth, that sweet, distinctive, delicious Ben-flavor. The
heat and strength of his big body. *This is what I've been wantin'. What I
need. This. You.* 

Ben spread his hands out over his back, pulling him even closer. Then he
raised one and ran it through Ray's hair, his fingers massaging the blond
detective's scalp, making it tingle. But before Ray could do more than
sigh with pleasure, Ben's hands were moving again. This time, they cupped
his head, turned it towards Ben so he could kiss down his cheek, along his
jaw, where he'd shaved off his beard. They held him still while he licked
the newly shaven, sensitive skin until Ray's breathing got ragged.  

*Who the hell woulda thought that'd feel so good? Oh, yeah! There, right
*there*--- 

But Ben didn't stop there. Next, he dipped his tongue into the tiny hole
on Ray's earlobe where his earring had been. He fastened on it, licked and
even bit the spot gently. Ray knew instinctively that Ben was
investigating him, seeing what had changed about his body while they were
apartand tasting those changes. Maybe even claiming them, and him. Another
weird thing he never would've thought of, that was so Fraser-like, and so
erotic, that he gasped. 

*Trust him to know just where to lickoh, damn--and bite--*  

Ben soothed the tiny hurt with his warm tongue, breathing hard. "Oh, Ray,"
he whispered in his ear, his voice shaky. "I missed you so!" 

"Missedyou--too," Ray panted, not even trying to pretend Ben wasn't
getting to him. Not that pretending would've done him any good,
considering the big bulge that had formed in the front of his pants the
second Ben put his hands on him.... 

Then he couldn't talk anymore, because his mouth was once again taken.
Claimed breathlessly. Ben plundered it, thrusting his tongue deep,
breathing raggedly. Ray did his best to match him thrust for thrust with
his tongue. *Missed ya, missed yaand God, I missed this!* 

Then Ben surprised him again. With a hungry moan, he reached down, took
Ray's legs in his hands and lifted them off the floor, wrapping them
around his waist. Pressing their groins together. 

Ray could feel how hard he was. Suspended in Ben's embrace, he groaned
helplessly. His bruised legs protested the maneuver, but at the same time,
he was intensely excited by it, by the masterful way Ben had taken control
of their lovemaking. By the way he was holding him suspended in his arms.
He'd never done anything like that to him before, and it aroused him so
that he clung even tighter to Ben while they kissed. Disregarding his sore
muscles, he wrapped his legs around him and squeezed him with his thighs. 


Fraser's next move was even better. He walked over to his bed, keeping
them pressed tightly together as he moved. Ray's heart turned over. *Oh
man,* he thought, *he's carryin' me!* Ben's big hands supported him, and
he never stopped kissing him for a second. Ray loved it. It was the most
romantic thing anyone had ever done to him. For him. He'd carried Stella
in his arms a few times, and Rylan had carried him like a sack of potatoes
after he'd knocked him out that terrible nightbut this was totally
different. He'd never imagined making love with someone big enough, and
strong enough, to carry him gently like this. But Ben held him easily,
like he didn't weigh anything, and that evidence of his strength was an
added thrill. *Okay, now I've died and gone to heaven....* 

When they reached his bed, Ben tipped him backwards, plunging them both
down onto it without ever breaking their deep kiss. *This is even better
than my dreams!* Ray thought as they fell. *This is greatness.* 

But when Ray landed on his back with Fraser's solid weight on top of him,
his still-healing ribs throbbed painfully. He turned his head away and
broke their kiss. "Wait," he mumbled.  

But Fraser didn't stop. He transferred his hungry mouth to Ray's throat,
biting and sucking at it so passionately that Ray's cock stiffened
instantly, in spite of his pain. When Ben's fingers found his nipples and
began rubbing them, Ray gasped sharply. "Oh, God!" he moaned, shaking. 

**************************************************************************
********* 

Fraser was lost. He felt wild, feverish, out of control. He knew he
shouldn't be doing this, that he might hurt Ray, that he was going too
fast, but he couldn't stop. Being with Ray was intoxicating, headier than
any drug he could imagine. He loved everything about him: his slender,
slighter body, which fit so perfectly in his arms. His tangy, masculine
scent, the fierce strength of his embrace, so different from that of a
woman. Kowalski was so beautiful, he had to take him. He knew it was
wrong, that Ray wasn't ready, but he couldn't let go of him. Couldn't stop
kissing him. Now that he'd tasted Ray, held him, nothing could hold him
back. He wanted to tear the rest of his clothes off. Was going tohe knew
it. Somewhere deep inside, he wished that Ray would stop him. Be strong,
when he couldn't be. *Don't let me do this,* he wanted to tell him. *Tell
me to stop. Don't let me* 

But that wasn't what came out of his mouth. Somehow, what he heard himself
saying instead, as he bit lightly at the strong arch of Ray's throat, was,
"Let me, let me! Please, Ray, let me...." 

**************************************************************************
********* 

"Let me," Ben moaned desperately. Kissing, biting, licking him. "Please,
Ray, let me" 

"Oh, yeah. Do it!" Ray urged, breathless. Now he knew Ben wasn't just
being polite when he'd said he still wanted him. He'd never heard Ben beg
for anything before. Ever. It meant that he didn't just want him, he was
hot to have him. Desperate for it. *What a rush!* He'd meant to push him
off a bit, to take the weight off his sore ribs and slow things down a
little, but when he heard Ben begging to take him, all thought of
restraint went out of his head. He'd been lonely for so long, but now he
was with Ben again, was finally where he belonged, and nothing else
mattered. He felt just as wild, as out of control as the Mountie was.
Suddenly, he didn't care if it hurt. He didn't care if it killed himhe had
to have him. Now. No more waiting.  

As Fraser kissed down his neck, he clutched at his shoulders, panting.
Babbling. Urging him on. "Kiss me, Ben. Like that. Oh yeah. Do me!" 

Ben made a hungry sound deep in his throat, almost like the growl of a
wolf, as he kissed his chest. Ray just smiled. *If this is how it feels
gettin' devoured by a wild animal, it's fine by me.*  

Ben bent his beautiful dark head to Ray's left nipple. His mouth covered
it, hot, wet and eager. Ray shivered. As Ben sucked on the tiny nub,
making it hard, he moaned, "You feel good, Benny Ben. So good!" He buried
his hands in the thick, silky mass of Ben's hair, loving the feel of it
after so long. His whole body filled with heat, ached with pleasure at the
touch of Ben's mouth on his nipple. It was overwhelming, all that ecstasy
surging through him from that one tiny spot on his chest. Stunning. It
blinded him to everything else. A SWAT team could've burst through the
door at that moment, and he wouldn't have noticed. He arched upwards
instinctively, wanting more; and if the move hurt his ribs, he was too far
gone to feel it. As Ben moved lower, kissing down his body, he pumped his
hips up towards his mouth, so excited that he hardly knew what he was
saying. "Go on. Fuck me! Please! I want you to--" 

Ray felt Ben's hands at his fly, popping the button on his jeans open,
tearing at his zipper while he kissed and licked at his abdomen. Then he
started pulling his jeans down, tugging hard, his fingers strong and
impatient. When those fingers suddenly dug into a bruise on his hip, Ray
gasped a little. But it didn't stop the wild rush of excitement pouring
through him. After what Rylan had done to him, that was nothing. Besides,
he knew Ben hadn't meant to hurt him. So he just laid there, biting his
lip, almost vibrating with desire as he waited for Ben to do him-- 

But suddenly, Fraser froze. With his lips pressed to Ray's stomach, his
hands gripping his jeans, he froze. 

"Ben?" Ray panted, painfully aroused. Wanting him to go on.  

Ben shuddered, and made a strangled little sound like he was choking. He
lifted his head, stopped his exciting kisses, and stared down at him in
dismay. 

Ray felt bereft. *Oh shit,* he thought, alarmed. "What'sa matter?" 

"I justI can't," Fraser whispered, his eyes wide and dark. He finally
looked up at him, and Ray saw that his face was twisted with anguish.
"God, Ray," he said. "What am I doing?" He sat up slowly. He looked
flushed, almost wild-eyed, like someone who'd just woke up from a
nightmare and found that reality was even scarier. 

"Me!" Ray breathed, confused. "Don't stop!"  

But Ben just shook his head. Traced the bruise he'd inadvertently poked
with an unsteady finger. "I have to," he said. "This isn't right."  

Ray couldn't believe it. "Don't say that," he moaned. "Do not *say* that
to me! Of course it's right--it's PERFECT!" After all, he was on his bed,
half naked, his jeans down past his hips, his whole body throbbing from
Ben's hot kisses, his cock so hard that it ached. He was finally where
he'd been dreaming of for months, on the verge of being fucked into happy
oblivion by his beloved Mountie. And Ben had to pick NOW to get cold feet?


"No," Ben said. 

Ray rolled his eyes. He'd hit the wall, the familiar wall of Fraser's
Mountie stubbornness. When he got like that, there was no getting past it.
He lay there fuming, almost unbearably disappointed. "You can't DO that! I
was *this* close!" he groaned. "That's torture, that'sthere's laws against
doin' that!"  

Fraser shot him a look. 

"Okay, well maybe there aren't. But there oughtta be!" he growled. What
the hell was the matter with Fraser? What was he doing, trying to kill
him?  

Fraser didn't explain. He just rolled off of him and turned his back.
Crossed his arms over his chest and pinned his hands under them as if he
didn't trust them.  

Ray didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He didn't understand why Ben was
doing this, and as usual, the Mountie wasn't talking. He'd always been
like that. He'd talk your ear off about boring crap you never wanted to
know, but trying to get important stuff out of him was like pulling teeth.
His frustration soared at the Canadian's silence. "You gonna tell me what
the hell this is all about?" he snapped. 

For a moment, Fraser was silent. Then he shot him a sideways glance, waved
a hand at him. "Look at you!" he grated. "You're covered with bruises." 

"I know that," he shot back impatiently. "But ya told me before that they
didn't gross ya out. So what's the problem?" 

Ben set his jaw. "They don't, as you said, 'gross me out.' They do,
however, suggest that you should still be in the hospital! I shouldn't
have let your doctor release you" 

Ray's confusion increased. "What? *You* shouldn't havethat wasn't up to
you!" he shot back, so frustrated he was seeing red. Fraser was acting
bossy all of a sudden. Treating him like a maroon, like he was too dumb to
run his own life. He knew he wasn't as smart as the Mountie, never would
be, but he hated having Fraser wave that in his face. Especially now, when
they were supposed to be making love, not testing brain capacity. "That
was my decision! MINE! Not yers," he insisted. "And what the hell does
when I got outta the hospital have to do with this, anyway? Ya sayin' ya
think I made a mistake leavin' so soon? That I'm some kinda idiot?" 

"No, Ray," Fraser said. "I'm not trying to say that you made a mistake.
I'm trying to tell you that I just did. That I shouldn't have touched you!
Let alone---" He hung his head, falling silent again, but he'd said
enough. 

Ray sat up slowly, with a little involuntary wince as his muscles
protested the recent strain. Suddenly, he got what Ben was trying to tell
him. He wasn't criticizing his judgment, but his own. He remembered he'd
said earlier that he was afraid of hurting him. *Now he thinks he did. He
let me go just when things were gettin' really hot cuz he had an attack of
the guilts. Musta' seen a bruise he didn't know about, and he freaked. His
Dudley Do-Right conscience just popped up and kicked him in the head.* It
was probably yelling at him even now, telling him that he'd just about
raped a helpless little invalid: namely, him. 

*What a crock!* Ray snorted to himself. He knew his friend's enormous
capacity for guilt, and he wasn't about to let him put on a hair shirt
now, just when things were finally getting hot and heavy, like he'd
wanted. But he told himself that screaming at Ben wasn't going to help
things. So he took a deep breath, and turned down the volume. "So ya got a
little excited," he said in a softer voice. He shrugged. "Hell, I did too!
We haven't been together for awhile, ya know. That's only human." 

But his words didn't help. Fraser just shook his head. He still wouldn't
look at him. 

Ray tried again. "Hey! I toldja' to come get me, and ya did. You were just
doin' what I asked ya to, Frayzh," he pointed out. "And ya didn't hurt me.
So don't freak out, okay?" He laid a hand on his shoulder, but Ben pulled
away.  

"No. Don't." Ben got to his feet and moved away blindly.  

Ray got up too. He didn't like the way this was going. It was starting to
get serious. He knew how bad Ben always took it when he lost controllike
it was the end of the world or something. And right now he looked all pale
and shaky, like he'd just committed a murder and couldn't figure out where
to hide the gun. And all he'd done was touch one of his bruises by
accident. Jeez! Ray figured he'd have to nip this thing in the bud, or Ben
would take off running and never come back. He moved around in front of
him, so he'd have to look at him. "Listen," he said firmly. "It's okay. I
said, ya didn't hurt me. You get that? So what's the problem?" 

Ben just looked grim. "I am. I should leave. I should never have come
here." 

Fraser was really freaking out. Ray's heart sank. *Dammit, I'm gonna lose
him. Again.* He shook his head. "Don't say that!" he said vehemently.
"Don't! I want you here. Want you in my bed." 

"No, Ray."  

He sounded so final that Ray felt even worse. "Oh come on, Frazyh!" he
pleaded. "Don't get all stubborn on me" 

"I'm not being stubborn!" Fraser said. 

*And I thought Mounties couldn't lie.* "The hell yer not!" Ray snapped
back, desperation turning to anger.  

Ben looked at him with the same emotion simmering in his blue gaze.
"You're not being fair, Ray." 

He widened his eyes at him. "ME? I'M not bein' fair? YOU'RE the one who
said, 'Ray, let me,' then backed out while I was lettin' you!" 

Fraser grimaced, flushing a little. "I know. And I'm sorry, but I'm doing
this for your sake, Ray. Don't you understand?" 

"No, I don't!" he yelled. "One minute, we're goin' at it, we're gettin'
into itand don't tell me you weren't too, Fraser, cuz I know you
were--then the next minute, you do this total about face, and you wanna
leave! What's up with that? That's not bein' a buddy, that's not even
fair! HOW IS THAT GONNA HELP ME?"  

Ben closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he looked down at his
feet. "I'm sorry, but I can't ... do this," he grated. "I can't--control
myself with you. Look what I just did! I hurt you" 

"No ya didn't! Wanna let me be the judge o' that? I'm tellin' ya, that was
nothin'! It was an accident. Don't you get it?" he asked fiercely. "The
only way you can hurt me is if you leave!"  

Fraser swallowed hard, and turned away from him again. He didn't say
anything, and for a second, Ray hoped he'd finally won him over. But then
he went to the chair where he'd hung his shirt and jacket, and picked up
his shirt again without a word. Ray's heart gave an anxious skip. Ben
hadn't listened to him. He was going to get dressed again, was going to
cover that gorgeous body up again and then split. He was going to leave
him.  

And Ray wasn't sure that he'd ever come back. If Fraser left on a sour
note like this, in the middle of an argument, he might just decide not to.
Might decide that Stanley Raymond Kowalski was a pain in the ass. An
idiot. More trouble than he was worth.	

Fear shot through him. He went after him. "Come on, Frayzh. Don't go," he
grated. "Please." He was beyond pleading now and into begging. He knew it,
and he didn't even care. He would've gone down on his knees, if he'd
thought it would make Ben stay. He knew what it was like to live without
him now. He knew, and he'd hated it. It had almost killed him. And if he
went away again, all that pain, all that darkness would come back. This
time, Ray wasn't sure he'd survive it.	

So when Ben pulled his T-shirt over his head, his fear deepened to near
panic. 

He reached out for him, then pulled his hand back at the last second. Then
reached out again. He wanted to grab his arm, but was afraid that force
would just increase Ben's resistance. So he held onto a fold of his
T-shirt instead. Held on tight, as he heard himself babbling. "I won't try
to make love to you again, I swear.... Ya don't even haveta kiss me if ya
don't wanna. Just don't leave me. Please don't." 

**************************************************************************
********* 

As their argument grew more heated, Fraser began to feel enormous pressure
building inside him. His body was taut, still aroused from making love to
Ray, still aching for him. And their arguing only made that worse. He felt
stiff, like he might shatter with a touch. But he couldn't let Ray touch
him, because he couldn't trust himself. His worst fears had been realized.
As soon as he'd touched Ray, he'd lost his head. He hadn't been gentle,
he'd pounced on him like some kind of savage. He'd *hurt* him 

He was losing all control.  

It reminded him of how he'd been with Victoria, and that made him feel
sick. He started to hear a roaring in his head, that drowned out Ray's
voice. At first he thought it was another memory of her, returning with
painful clarity: the loud sound of a train pulling out of a station with
her on board, taking away his only hope of love....  

Then he realized it was the sound of his own fear. And that he felt it for
the same reason: he was losing his love for the second time. 

Ray kept saying, "Don't, don't, don't go," but Fraser knew he had to
leave. He reached for his clothes, knowing only the frantic need to get
away. To get out of there before he did further damage. Before he hurt Ray
any more than he already had. Before he exploded from the conflicting
pressures inside him. From wanting Ray, but not being able to take him
because his need was so intense that he couldn't control it. 

Ray started pulling at his sleeve. Tugging at a fold in his T-shirt, as if
he wanted to make physical contact but didn't dare grab him. Ben glanced
over his shoulder and saw his lips moving frantically. And he looked so
anxious that he made an effort to hear past the tumult in his head, to
comprehend what he was saying.	

"ya just dunno how I get. It's likebein' dead or somethin'! I can't do
it!" 

"What are you talking about, Ray?"  

"When Stella left, I went nuts. Decided to be Vecchio, cuz it was
betteranythin' was better than bein' me! And I tried bein' Ko too, but it
didn't work. Pat ended up dead, cuz I couldn't make it work!" 

Ben was confused. Ray was talking so fast he almost couldn't follow it,
babbling almost incoherently about his past. About Stella and Rylan and
the fact that he'd tried (unsuccessfully) to be someone named Ko. It
didn't make much sense. All he could gather from the frenzied stream of
words pouring from his would-be lover's mouth was that he sounded
scaredand that he still blamed himself for Patrick Rylan's death.  

"Finn and Olson killed Rylan, Ray," he said firmly, because he was sure of
that, at least. "It wasn't your fault." 

*He's right to feel afraid, though,* Ben thought, guilty. *Only the person
he should be frightened of is me.* He was still more afraid of hurting Ray
if he stayed than if he left. So after a momentary hesitation, he reached
out for his tunic again. 

Ray finally touched him then. Gripped his arm hard, his fingers digging
into his bicep. Holding him back. "What I'm sayin' is, I can't make it
alone, Ben. Nothin' works without you! Not even my dreamcatcher. Without
you, I had nightmares, I couldn't dance, I wasn't even bein' a good cop.
It's likethe only way I can be me is with you." 

Fraser wavered. He could feel himself being persuaded, relenting because
of the intensity of Kowalski's need for himand his own desire to fill that
need. He reminded himself one last time that he was leaving for Ray's own
good. That Ray would be better off without him. He forced himself to say,
"That's silly, Ray. You lived on your own for many years without me. Quite
capably, I might add. You're a more than competent detective, you have
several citations for bravery--" He stopped himself. He meant the words to
be reassuring, but they sounded cold instead.  

Ray must've thought so too, because he suddenly put his arms around him
from behind, his wiry body clinging in a desperate embrace. "Doesn't
matter," he muttered against the back of his shoulder. "I never told
anybody this, but all my life, I felt ... lost inside. Not good enough.
Like a loser, ya know?" 

Fraser did know. Those words wrung his heart. He knew how that felt all
too well. From the time he was a boy, he'd known what it was to be lost.
He'd had no mother, a father who was hardly ever there.... And he'd known,
even as a small boy, that it was somehow his fault. That if he'd been
better, smarter, more perfect, his mother wouldn't have died, and his
father wouldn't have stayed away. He had tried to be good, to be perfect,
tried all his lifeoh, how he had tried! But despite all that, he was still
flawed. Still lustful and selfish and far from perfect. But he'd never
realized that Ray, the product of a normal upbringing with two parents,
nonetheless shared those feelings of imperfection. That his insecurity
went that deep. It touched a chord deep inside him, froze him where he
stood. 

"The only time I was ever happy was when I was with Stella. Then with
you," Ray went on in a low voice. "But with you, it was better. Nobody
ever touched me like you did. Did to me what you do. Nobody, not even her.
With you, it was like comin' home. I never knew it could be like that " 

Ray's voice trailed off on a note of wonder that melted Fraser's
determination to leave. It stunned him to hear that he had touched Ray's
body, maybe even his heart, in ways that even his own wife never had. How
could that be? She had been with Ray far longer than he, and he knew she
had loved him. The tenderness in her kiss at the hospital that day had
been unmistakable. Could it be that she had nonetheless somehow taken him
for granted? Or perhaps not seen deeply enough into him to give him what
he needed? From Ray's words, it would seem so.	

Was it possible that he was the one who could give Ray what he needed?
That he could fill the same empty space inside Ray that Ray filled inside
him? "With you, it was like comin' home." No one had ever said anything
like that to him before. No one, not even Victoria. And being with Ray was
like that for him, too. Like finding the home he'd always wanted, but had
never known. Getting the love and acceptance he had always craved; and
knowing that his love and acceptance meant just as much to Ray. 

Emotion rose in his throat and choked him so that he couldn't speak. His
fingers crushed the red serge of his tunic, which he'd somehow held onto
throughout all of this, so tightly that it hurt. 

Ray seemed to take his silence as a bad sign. His fingers dug into him
even harder. "If you go, I got nothin'," he whispered. "Please,
Ben--please!" 

He felt Ray's heart beating an anxious tattoo against his back, heard the
fear and loneliness underlying his disjointed words, but still, he
couldn't speak. Couldn't decide what to do. *How can I leave him? That
would be cruel. But after what I just did to him, how can I stay?* 

Unable to determine what would be the lesser of two evils, Fraser
hesitated, paralyzed by uncharacteristic indecision. He longed to stay,
but was afraid to. Despite Ray's need for him, and his deep love for Ray,
he couldn't forget what he'd just done. Ray was weak, he'd been
injuredhe'd almost died just two weeks ago! Yet he'd just thrown him on
his bed and almost raped him. Ray had tried to tell him to stop, but he'd
been so filled with hunger, so mad for him that he couldn't wait. Despite
his injuries, he'd kissed him roughly, and ground their bodies together,
heedless of Ray's mending ribs. He'd hurt him so much that Ray had gasped
out loud. Yet he was still begging him to stay. Why? How could Ray want
him when he was capable of such acts?  

*Is this what he learned from his dead partner? To enjoy being abused?*
The thought turned Fraser's stomach. 

But he abruptly realized, with a sense of shame, that he was no better.
That perhaps the same loneliness that had driven Ray into an affair with
Rylan was what had made him cruel. Because it had been so long since he'd
touched Ray, since he'd kissed him, smelled his scent, that once he was in
his arms again, he'd lost all control. Gone temporarily mad with lust,
despite his best intentions, and manhandled him. He'd just treated Ray as
selfishly, as sadistically as Patrick Rylan used to. He hadn't been
gentle, hadn't tried to please him, he'd just taken without thought. And
he still wanted Ray that much. He knew it, because despite his disgust at
his own misbehavior, when Ray put his arms around him, the muscles in his
abdomen quivered at his touch.	

*But that isn't all that I feel. That isn't even the half of it.* He clung
to that thought. Lust was only a small part of what he felt for Raynor was
that all he could give to him.	

"The only way I can be me is with you.... With you, it was like comin'
home."	

Those words were the key. They echoed in his mind, and slowly, an answer
arose from the confusion inside him. If loneliness had made them both a
little crazy, then maybe the only thing to do was to stay, and end their
loneliness once and for all. To rise above his animal instincts and petty
resentments, for Ray's sake. Maybe he couldn't be perfect, but he could do
his best for him. He could do that by loving Ray with all his heart and
soul, in spite of everything. By filling Ray's empty spaces, and letting
Ray fill his. So neither of them would ever be so lonely that they'd do
desperate things, ever again. 

He could make a home for Ray in his heart; and let Ray be his home as
well.  

Wasn't that what he'd always wanted? What he'd been looking for all his
life? For someone to need him like this? No one who he'd loved in his
whole life had ever really needed him: not his mother, his father, and
certainly not Victoria Metcalf or Ray Vecchio. Though he'd loved them all,
they hadn't needed his strength, his affection to make them whole, like
Ray Kowalski did. Hadn't he dreamed of finding someone who would love him
so much that he'd see the best in him, and overlook the worst, as Ray was?
 

He dropped his tunic at last. "All right, Ray," he said gently. "I won't
leave you." *Ever,* he promised himself silently. 

Ray heaved an enormous sigh, his desperate grip relaxing at last. "Okay.
Good," he murmured. 

Ben felt the terrible tension in his body ebb away, but Ray didn't leave
him. Didn't let go. He kept on hugging him, even patted his chest gently,
as if he were trying to convey a gratitude he couldn't put into words.
That felt so wonderful that even though Fraser knew he should let him go,
he didn't. He put his hands on top of Ray's and held them, suddenly
feeling an enormous tenderness for him, an awareness of his vulnerability,
and a renewed sense of responsibility for him. "I'm sorry," he said
quietly. "For what I did just now." He knew that was no excuse, but he had
to start somewhere. Start over again, and do things right this time. "I
didn't mean to hurt you, Ray." 

He lifted one of Ray's hands to his mouth and kissed it, as tender now as
he'd been rough before. 

Ray let go of him then. Turned him around so that they faced each other
again. "I know that," he said, smiling a little. "Don'tcha think I know?"
And in his face, in his voice, was the same tenderness that Fraser was
feeling.  

*Home,* Ben thought, deeply moved. *He's my home.* It made him feel humble
and ashamed. Deeply ashamed that he hadn't treated Ray with more respect,
with gentler hands. "But the fact remains that I did," he confessed. "I
hurt you. I can't ... trust myself" 

Ray smiled, and touched his shoulder lightly. "'S'okay. *I* trust ya," he
said simply. 

And he did. Fraser saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice. Despite the
rough, selfish, unforgivable way he'd just behaved, Ray wasn't put off.
Wasn't frightened of him. It was incredible. He was relieved, but he still
needed to be certain why Ray felt that way. He stared at his bruised,
bandaged face, into his long-lashed blue eyes, trying to decide if he was
telling the truthor saying what he wanted to hear. He needed to be
absolutely sure Ray wasn't overlooking what he'd done because he'd gotten
used to being hurt.  

But after a long moment, he decided that wasn't it. Ray's eyes were
relieved, warm, and totally guileless. Hiding nothing. It seemed he was
just overlooking his earlier roughness because he cared for himbecause he
knew that he hadn't meant to do it, and that he wouldn't do it again,
would never consciously hurt him. Relief swept over him at that
realization. He had what he'd wanted most, what he'd feared had been
destroyed by their recent separation: Ray's trust.  

*I want to be his home, too. I want it more than anything.* He felt tears
welling up in his eyes. He rubbed at them with the back of his hand.
"You're sure you ... want me to stay," he said at last. 

"Yeah," came the instant answer. Ray's voice wasn't hesitant at all, and
his blue eyes were rock steady. "Y-E-S, Ben. Yer what I want." 

Each man saw home shining in the other's eyes, and they both smiled at the
same instant. 

Fraser was filled with emotion, with gratitude and love that he couldn't
put into words. After a moment, he said hoarsely, "All right then." But
despite the desire in his partner's eyes, he didn't move to hold Ray
again. It was wonderful to know that Kowalski still trusted him, but he
didn't trust himself yet. He needed a minute to recover from what he'd
just done, to catch his breath and repair his tattered self control before
he touched him again. "I think ... I'd like to take that shower with you
after all, Ray," he said slowly. "Would that be all right?" 

"Sure," Ray nodded. "We can take our time. Do it right, ya know?" His blue
eyes sparkled.	

Fraser knew he wasn't referring to getting cleaned up. He felt a little
smile tugging at the edges of his own mouth. "Yes. I think I know exactly
what you mean." 

**************************************************************************
********* 

Ray stripped off the rest of his clothes in record time. Despite their
argument, after the heat he and Ben had just generated, he couldn't wait
to really get it on with him. But something about Ben's silence as they
finished undressing told him to back off. He could tell that he was still
freaked that he'd gotten rough with himor at least, what Fraser thought
was roughbecause he didn't try to kiss him again, or even touch him. 

So Ray didn't try to touch him either. He just pulled off his jeans, boots
and socks, and watched silently while Ben did the same. He was a little
disappointed that Ben didn't even try to sneak a kiss, but he didn't say
so. He had other things to be thankful for. Like the fact that Ben hadn't
left him after all, despite the crazy things he'd said, the things he'd
told him. Things he'd never told anyone else before, not even Stella. 

All that stuff about him being a loser.... Not that it wasn't true, but he
knew it made him look really needy. Needy enough to send most people
running in the opposite direction.  

But not Ben. Ray had the funny feeling those words had somehow won his
heart. That they were the reason he'd stayed. Because he'd opened himself
up like thatnot in spite of it. Because he'd told him how he felt. That he
meant everything to him. That he trusted him, that he wasn't just another
lover, he was everything. He was home to him. Maybe Ben needed that, as
much as he did. 

It seemed like it, because after he told him that, he saw something in
Ben's eyes that he hadn't seen since they first had sex. Something like
pure, shimmering happiness. Something that might've even been love. 

Ray wanted to show him he felt the same way. Wanted to show him with his
body, in the best way he knew how. He could hardly wait to do it. They'd
come close there on his bed, so close that his body was still humming with
excitement. He'd loved the way Ben had lost control, but since that'd
scared him so badly he'd almost run away, if he needed to go slow now,
he'd live with it. He could do slow, no problem. Hell, he'd been dreaming
of that for months, of Fraser's patient, gentle way of driving him out of
his mind. A time or two of that would do him more good than any of the
pills the doctors had forced down his throat in the last week, that was
for sure. Slow with Fraser was good.  

Anything with Benny Ben was fine. 

**************************************************************************
********* 

When Fraser finished taking off his clothes, he took Ray's hand in his
gently, then headed silently for the shower. When they stepped inside, he
reached over to turn on the water.  

Ray turned to him eagerly. "Make it good and hot, okay?" he whispered, his
breath warm in his ear as he kissed it. 

Fraser wasn't sure if he was referring to the water or their intended
lovemaking, but it didn't really matter. He turned on the hot water just
in case, angled the shower head down so the water wouldn't hit them in the
face, then put his hands gently on Ray's shoulders and kissed him
carefully. Warm, soft kisses that caressed instead of demanded, that
pressed Ray's lips apart just enough for him to trace them with his
tongue, then pulled away again. As the shower spray streamed down his
legs, he fed on the softness of his mouth again and again, and with each
kiss, felt some of his faith in his self control returning. This was how
he wanted to be with Ray: gentle and loving. This was how it should be....


It seemed that Ray felt that, too. "Mmm," he whispered, smiling. "That's
nice. Come 'mere." 

Ray pulled him a little closer. Fraser let him, trusting that Ray would
tell him if something hurt him. Trusting that this time, he would
listen--because Ray believed he would. He even slipped his arms around
him, loving the sensation of Ray's hard chest pressed against his again.
Ray's lips were soft, warm, and wet from his kisses. Delicious.  

But as they kissed, Fraser had a sudden, troubling mental image of Ray in
Rylan's arms. He'd never seen Rylan, but he'd seen his picture in the
paper after he was killed, and his dark good looks had haunted him. So his
fertile imagination had no trouble putting Ray together with his exotic
looking partner. He wasn't sure why it was doing so now: perhaps it was
because he felt guilty about hurting Ray himself a moment ago, or perhaps
it was just jealousy. But the timing of it frustrated him. Why did he have
to think of Rylan now, when he was finally kissing Ray again?  

Perversely, though he tried to banish it, the negative train of thought
continued. Images of Ray kissing Rylan filled his mind. Thinking of the
fading marks on Ray's slender wrists, and how Rylan must've put them there
by clamping handcuffs on him and jerking them viciously, his jealousy
simmered into anger.  

He shuddered involuntarily. Uncomfortable with his dark thoughts, he broke
their kiss and turned away from Ray, worried that his jealousy might show
on his face. He didn't want anything to ruin their lovemaking this time,
after they'd had so many false starts already. 

But Ray knew something was up. "What's wrong?"	

Fraser realized that he must be getting impatient with him, and for good
reason. He'd pulled away from Ray's kisses once too often. Searching for
an excuse for his latest withdrawal, he reached for the soap as if picking
it up had been his intention all along. "Nothing. I just want to get
clean," he said, knowing it was a lame excuse. But he was committed to it,
so he began to soap up his chest, hoping it might at least distract him. 

It certainly distracted Ray. As he lathered his upper body, the look in
Ray's eyes changed from worry to open, avid hunger. He whispered, "Damn. I
almost forgot how beautiful you are," and leaned forward to kiss him
again, his mouth warm and eager. But even with Ray's mouth on his, Ben
couldn't quite banish the thought of his other lover. In fact, the
sensuality of Ray's kiss only increased his resentment that someone else
had touched him, kissed him, tasted him like this. 

Suddenly, Ben was swept by a feeling of pure, raw, primitive
possessiveness. Earlier, he'd just wanted to make Ray his. Now, after his
little mental movie of him kissing Rylan, he wanted more. He wanted to
take him back from Rylan. He wanted to make Ray his and only his. It was
more than a wish, it was a need, a compulsion so deep and powerful he
couldn't ignore it. And to fulfill it, he'd have to wash away all traces
of Rylan's touch from Ray's body. Soap him all over, from head to toe. So
as soon as Ray broke their kiss, he laid the soap on his slender shoulder
and started to rub it onto his skin. 

"Oh. Yer gonna clean me up too, huh?" Ray smiled, unaware of his hidden
motive. 

"Yes," Fraser replied, his voice hoarse. He didn't dare say any more.
After his shameful loss of control earlier, he didn't want to confess the
dark need that drove him now. Ray might object if he did, and he needed to
do this so badly he doubted he could even make love with him otherwise.
And he needed that too, needed it desperately.... So he swept the soap
over Ray's chest, careful this time to avoid touching the areas where he
was badly bruised. He used long, smooth, gentle strokes, hoping to
disguise his need to reclaim his lover with the simple task of gently
bathing him. Hoping that Ray would be aroused by his touch while he did
it. 

*What better way,* he thought, *to make him forget all about Rylan?* 

**************************************************************************
******* 

As the Mountie started soaping up his shoulders, Ray wondered about
Fraser's sudden obsession with getting clean. The Canadian's hands were
gentle as usual, but Ray wondered what he was thinking about as he stroked
the soap over his skin. Sex would've been the obvious answer, but Fraser
looked too serious for that somehow. Not so much horny anymore but intent,
like Ray was a puzzle he needed to figure out, and he could only do that
if he was really clean. 

Ray wasn't sure how he felt about that. He wanted Fraser to get excited,
to get as aroused as he was. His cock had stiffened again at his first
sight of Ben's beautiful, naked body, and it was getting harder as his
hands guided the soap carefully over his bruised chest, brushed his
nipples, then circled them slowly. He wasn't using a washcloth, just
applying the soap directly to his skin, and somehow, that seemed erotic.
Ray bit his lip as he watched it, incredibly aroused. He hadn't been this
hard since.... Well, not since they'd broken up. No one else could do this
to him, for him, like Ben could. He loved him, and he wanted him so much
he couldn't stand it. *God, I need him. Need him so damn bad....* 

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Raised his hands and set them
lightly on the Canadian's shoulders as Ben worked the soap across his
belly. "Ben, umm ... d'ya think we could skip the gettin' clean part for
now?" he asked, only half joking. "'Cuz I'm not real good at waiting. And
I'm already salutin' here" 

Fraser shook his head instantlyalmost vehemently. "No!" 

Ray blinked, surprised at the intensity of his response. Not understanding
it.  

Ben lifted his head, as if he suddenly realized he'd reacted oddly. He
looked embarrassed, but his tone was still insistent. "That is ... I mean,
I'd really like to do this, Ray. If you don't mind." He needed to. Ben
didn't say it, but Ray heard it in his voice. Felt it in the hands that
had paused, still holding the soap to his skin.  

He suddenly felt a bit ashamed at his own selfishness. Fraser was trying
to do something nice for him, maybe trying to make up for his unconscious
roughness earlier, and he was in such a hurry to fuck him that he couldn't
even wait for him to finish. *Impatient bastard,* he chided himself.
*That's what caused this whole mixup in the first place, remember? Ya
better take a page from Ben's book for once, and slow down. Cuz he hardly
ever asks for anything. Let him do this for ya if he wants to.* 

"Sure," he said, stifling his impatience. "Go ahead. Gives a whole new
meanin' to the term 'clean cop', doesn't it?" he joked.  

He was rewarded with a brief smile. Then Ben went down on one knee in
front of him and started lathering up his legs.  

*Calm down,* Ray told himself, his heart leaping at the Mountie's every
touch. But it was hard. He had to close his eyes, had to look away from
the sight of Ben kneeling in front of him, his beautiful dark head right
*there*.... Cuz it made his hands itch to take hold of his head, to push
those lush, gorgeous lips where he wanted them, right onto his stiffening
cock. 

*Get a grip,* he told himself sternly. *Stop thinkin' about what he
*could* do, and enjoy what he's doin'. After all, it's been a long time
since I made love with him. Way too long. So if he wants to put soap all
over me before we do it, who cares?* Still, it made him feel a bit weird.
Stella had never liked showering with him very much, so she'd never done
this to him. Hell, nobody had, not since his mom used to bathe him when he
was a kid. He smiled, remembering that. 

*Only thing missin' is my rubber ducky,* he thought, snickering to
himself.  

Or maybe he laughed out loud, because Ben suddenly looked up at him
curiously. "Is something funny, Ray?" 

He grinned. "Naw. Just thinkin' about rubber ducks," he said. 

Ben blinked. "Ahh," he said, as if he'd just explained one of the world's
greatest mysteries. Then he went back to his task. 

Ray smiled down at his friend. *See, that's what I love about you,* he
said to himself. *Anyone else would think that was loony, but you just
accept it.* 

Ben had always done that. Right from the beginning. Unlike Stella, he'd
accepted all his weirdness, all his faults, without making him feel crazy
or inadequate. So if Ben wanted to soap up every inch of his skinny body
every time they showered for the rest of his life, he might just let him. 


Ray stood still, and tried hard to be patient while Fraser did just that:
soaped every inch of him. His cock, his legs, his feet, his butt, his
backeverything. For some reason, he even lingered over his wrists for
awhile. Ray was afraid he'd say something about the fading cuts and welts
there, but to his relief, he didn't. He never had, and he'd finally
decided Ben must've assumed he'd gotten them when he was shot. Though
Fraser was usually way more observant than that, Ray didn't want to look
that particular gift horse in the mouth. He wasn't about to tell him that
he'd made a mistake. So he didn't say anything as Ben lathered his wrists
up thoroughly, soaped them so heavily that the suds covered them
completely. He wondered if it meant anything, though, or if he was just
being paranoid. But he didn't dare ask. 

But when Fraser raised the soap to his face, he felt he'd reached his
limit. "What thehey, come on!" he protested. His patience wearing thin, he
caught his friend's hand. "Enough is enough." 

Fraser just shook his head. "All of you, Ray," he said with a determined
glint in his eyes. 

Ray sighed. When Fraser got that look, you might as well save your breath.
Arguing with him would get you nowhere. So he let go of him, and Fraser
quickly soaped his face, leaving out only the part of his forehead that
was still bandaged. Then he started on his hair. Ray rolled his eyes.
"Jeez, Frayzh. Ya know, down here in the States, we usually use somethin'
called shampoo for that--" 

"Soap will do just as well," Fraser said firmly. But he worked the soap
into his hair very gently, avoiding his bandage, so Ray didn't object.	

He couldn't resist teasing him, though. "What is it with this Mr. Clean
thing, Frayzh? I go away for a little while, and you develop some kinda
soap fetish?" 

For a second, Fraser's hands stilled in his hair. "It was more than a
little while, Ray. You left four months and sixteen days ago," he said
quietly. 

Ray closed his eyes, wincing. So Ben had been counting too. "Yeah,
well.... If it makes you feel any better, it felt like forever to me," he
confessed. 

"Good," Fraser said, scrubbing more soap into his hair.  

Ray grinned, surprised at his honesty. "I don't believe you said that.
That was kinda mean and unMountie-like, Frayzh, gloatin' over my
unhappiness like that." 

"Hmm," Fraser said. "Well, I'm not proud of it, Ray, but you were a bit
unfair, you know."  

Ray winced. "Yeah, I know. So okay, I guess yer entitled to gloat. A
little." 

"Thank you. That's very generous of you. But I think I've done enough for
now." Fraser worked a bit more soap into Ray's hair, then finally took his
hands away. "There," he said in a satisfied voice. "All done." 

"Finally," Ray muttered under his breath. 

Fraser paid no attention. He pushed Ray under the shower's spray, then
turned him around to sluice off his back, and wash the rest of the soap
out of his hair. Ray didn't complain. His usual impatience was offset by
the pleasure of feeling Fraser's strong, gentle hands on him again after
so long. He stood passive, letting the Mountie finish cleaning him off. He
even smiled a bit as the water sprayed over him, because he knew it
wouldn't be long before he got the rest of Ben, too. 

As if he'd read his mind, Fraser suddenly pulled him out of the spray, put
his arms around him and pulled him close. Holding the back of Ray's wet
head gently in his hand, he kissed him, deeply but tenderly. When Ben
finally broke the kiss, he looked into his eyes and smiled. Then he
whispered, "I'm yours, Ray."  

Ben's blue eyes were tender and shining into his. Ray felt something warm
radiating from him that was almost physical. He felt like Ben could
somehow see right down into his soul, and that he was offering his soul to
him in return. His heart, his body, everything he was. Ray felt humbled.
Thrilled. Almost awed, because he knew what an incredible gift that was.
He knew, better than anyone. But he wasn't sure he deserved him, or how to
answer that kind of offer. Thanks weren't enough. He wished he could think
of something wonderful to say, or to give him in return, but all he could
come up with was himself.  

"Okay. Good," he blurted. Then, realizing how dumb that sounded, he added,
"I meanit's good, cuz I'm yers too." But he felt himself flushing. Not at
the sentiment, but because he wasn't sure it was enough. That *he* was. 

Ray the screw-up, Ray the Attitude, in return for Beautiful Ben? Even he
knew that equation didn't balance.  

But Ben seemed to think it did. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and he
kissed him again, even more passionately than before. When he began moving
his hips against Ray's too, sliding their wet cocks together as they
kissed, Kowalski's breathing grew harsh. He'd been patient long enough.
When he finally came up for air, he moaned, "Okay, I'm yours, yer mine....
Can we do it now?" 

Ben blinked at him for a second. An odd look came over his face, as if
Ray's request had made him think of something else. "Kneel down, Ray," he
said. 

"What?" 

"Kneel down," he repeated firmly. 

The command surprised Ray a little. Ben was acting weird. Not out of
control like before, but kind of forceful and intense all the same. *First
that weird little soap ritual, and now what? Is he gonna make me get down
on my knees and beg for forgiveness?* 

Then he shrugged. What if he did? He'd do whatever Ben wanted. Whatever it
took. He owed him that. But more than that, he wanted him, wanted to
please him.... Plus, he suddenly remembered that there were other things
he could do on his knees than beg for forgiveness. That he might even be
able to make Ben beg, if he did them right.  

"Okay," he said. He dropped down onto the tiles with a smile. 

But to his surprise, Ben didn't make him beg, or even ask him to go down
on him. He just stood there looking down at him for a minute without
saying a word. Then, all at once, he knelt down behind him. *Okay, so he's
not lookin' for an apology. That's good,* Ray thought, relieved. *But what
the hell *is* he doin'?*  

When Ben put his arms around his chest and pulled his head back for
another hot kiss, he got his answer. Ben was finally going to make love to
him. *Hot damn.* A jolt of deep, nearly painful desire shot through him.
His breathing got harsh, and his erection hardened. He was so hot for the
Canadian that he could hardly stand it. But he winced a little as Ben bent
him further backwards. The position hurt his still healing ribs.  

Fraser sensed his discomfort, and ended their kiss instantly. "Lean on me,
Ray," he said, as if he knew he was in pain. "Relax. Sit back in my
arms...." 

Ray hesitated for a second. He didn't know what Ben was up to, and it had
been a long time since he'd trusted anyone. A long time, and a lot of
strange sexual water under the bridge....  

**************************************************************************
***** 

Ben wasn't really sure why he'd asked Ray to kneel down. It seemed a mere
impulse, a whim. It wasn't as if he'd planned how he was going to make
love to him, after all. He hadn't even been sure that would ever happen,
or if Ray still wanted him, when he'd decided to drive him home from the
hospital. So he didn't know if his reasons for wanting him to kneel were
erotic at all. But after he voiced the question, as Ray hesitated, a sort
of stubbornness came over him. Despite his unknown motives, it seemed
important, even essential, that Ray do it anyway, and he wondered why. 

When Ray smiled a little, said "Okay," then dropped to his knees, he
discovered the answer. Something inside him that he hadn't even realized
was tight and painful eased, as if a strand of barbed wire that had been
wrapped around his heart had been removed. Understanding came, and it
shocked him. He realized that part of him had wanted, needed, to make Ray
obey him because until that moment, he hadn't been able to entirely
forgive him for kicking his hat at the 27th, for shoving and humiliating
him in front of everyone. He forgave him now, but not without a
simultaneous surge of shame. 

*Get down on your knees, Ray.* Who the hell was he, to demand such a
thing? Such an abject apology? He suddenly wondered if his motives for it
went back even further than their fight. If he'd subconsciously been
making Ray pay for others' sins, as well as that incident at the 27th. Had
Victoria's manipulations galled him so deeply that they lingered in his
soul even now? Had they driven him to want to exert some sort of like
power over Ray, to soothe his own wounded ego? Had he wanted to assure
himself that this time, *he* would be the one in control of their
relationship? He was shaken by his own darkness. Appalled at himself.  

But amazed by Ray. He'd done it. Done it with a smile, as if it were a
small thing. As if he didn't mind it. As if he would've done much more, if
Ben had only asked him. Ben was mortified. Ray's cheerful obedience made
him seem petty; arrogant; even cruel. He was deeply embarrassed for asking
him to atone in such a way, and awed by his friend's generosity in doing
so. But most of all, deeply tender and protective towards him. More in
love with him than ever. 

Ben knew of only one way to make up for his stupid, dictatorial, vengeful
request. He dropped to his knees himself, in genuine penitence, and put
his arms around the slender blond from behind. Spreading his palm over
Ray's chest, so that he could feel his heart beating, he bent him
backwards gently, changing the act from contrition to an embrace. He drew
Ray against him, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be close to this
man, who was far better to him than he deserved. But he felt Ray tense
when he did, and realized that leaning backwards hurt him.  

"Lean on me, Ray," he whispered. But what he really meant was, I love you.


**************************************************************************
*********  

This time, when Ben asked him to lean backward, Ray didn't hesitate. This
was Benton Fraser, after all. Fraser, who'd sat vigil over him in the
hospital for five long days and nights, even after he'd thrown him out and
taken up with another guy. Ben, who'd never done anything wrong in the
first place, whose only crime had been coming back to his apartment a
little late. His Benny Ben, who he'd hurt terribly--because he hadn't
trusted him. 

He suddenly wondered if maybe that was why Ben was doing all this. The
soap ritual, the kneeling, all of it. Was it some strange sort of test
he'd dreamed up, to see if he'd finally learned his lesson? Finally
learned to trust him? The thought pissed him off a bit. *He should know I
do,* he thought. *I already told him that.*  

Then again, he'd only just finally gotten Ben back. So if this was a test,
he didn't want to flunk it. Not this time. Not when the person handing out
grades was his Mountie. Besides--Ben's hands felt tender now, and his
voice was soft and intimate. He wasn't giving orders now, he was just
asking. Asking for his trust.  

And he'd always had that. He'd given it to him long ago. *Hell, the first
time I looked into his big baby blues, I was talkin' partnership. Talkin'
duets, before I knew it. There was just somethin' about himalways knew I
could trust him, from day one.* He smiled to himself, remembering that.
Then the smile died away, as he recalled what had happened when he'd
somehow quit trusting him. It wasn't a pretty picture: their fight, him
kicking Ben's hat, his lonely exile to the 29th, and Rylan. Most of all,
Rylan. 

He shivered a bit, and thrust his memory away. Focused his thoughts back
on Ben. On what he needed to do, to repair the trust he'd broken.
*Whatever it takes,* he thought. *If he wants me to show him that I trust
him a second time, or ten times a day for the next month, I'll do it. He's
worth it.*  

So he did it. Leaned back into Ben's embrace, laid his head on Ben's broad
shoulder, and gave himself over into his hands. Holding nothing back.
Giving himself utterly. Trusting him completely.  

Ben sat back on his haunches and eased him between his legs, and tightened
his arms around him. Ray felt his broad chest against his back, his strong
arms and body supporting him. Fraser's big, warm, muscular body wrapped
all around him. *Jesus, that feels so good....* 

"That's it, Ray," Ben said softly. He sounded both tender and pleased.
"I'll hold you." 

And Ray knew he would. He also knew that for once, he'd done the right
thing. Made Ben happy. It was so cool. Never mind that it didn't take
much, it was still a jazz, makin' Big Red smile. It put a smile on his own
face. Besides--being cradled in Ben's arms like this felt wonderful. Warm.
Safe. Cozy and totally sexy, at the same time. It felt so good, he
could've stayed like that forever.  

But Fraser had other ideas. Suddenly, he was all over him. He took his
mouth again, began kissing him passionately while he pinched, pulled and
rubbed at his nipples gently with one hand. The other stroked his balls,
then took his cock in a firm grip and began to stroke it gently,
sensually, from root to tip. 

Ray's head spun. It still amazed him, how Fraser could go from Mr. Polite
to Tiger Man in the space of a second. Not that he was complaining. He was
too busy moaning--right into the hot, wet mouth that was sweetly devouring
his. This was what he'd wanted for months, what he'd dreamed about. Hell,
it was better than any of his dreams. Ben's embrace, his kisses. Ben naked
with him, wrapped all around him. Ben's cock hard against his butt, Ben's
hand warm on his aching cock. It felt so good he could've died happy, but
all he wanted to do right then was live in that moment forever, with Ben
making love to him.  

A contrasting memory slipped through his mind: the scratchy feel of
Rylan's chest and leg hair against his skin when they had sex. The way his
hard body had pushed against him, crushed him, battered him. Overwhelmed
him, demanding something he could never give. He'd always been half afraid
that Pat might smother him someday, in his savage enthusiasm. By contrast,
Ben was smooth and sleek, his hands were gentle, and his body supported
him while he stroked and caressed him.... Where Rylan had only and ever
taken, Ben gave. He was perfect as any dream lover could ever bebut he was
real. 

"Damn," Ray whispered, trembling with delight.	

"Do you like this, Ray?" Ben's voice, warm and shy in his ear. A little
hesitant, as if he'd misunderstood his shaky curse. Ben's tongue circled
his ear, then dipped inside as he played with his nipples, caressed his
cock.  

Like it? "Yeah," he croaked, hardly able to speak. "Do whatever you want
to me. I love it--" 

That made Ben happy. He hummed in Ray's ear, a wordless little sound of
pleasure. Then he drove his tongue deep into his ear, rubbed the head of
his cock swiftly with his thumb, and stroked his nipple, all at the same
time. Ray writhed with ecstasy at the triple stimulation, groaning
helplessly. His body arched up instinctively, towards the source of that
incredible pleasure, and he felt Ben's arms tighten on him, keeping him
close. Keeping him from arching so far forward that he'd hurt himself
again. 

Loving him. 

Ray could feel it, feel the love pouring out of him in every caress of
those big, pale hands; and his own heart returned it. Reaching back, he
wrapped his arms around Ben's neck and clung to him tightly, wanting to
show him that he felt the same way.  

Ray wanted this, their first time together in months, to be long and slow,
to last forever. 

But he couldn't do it. After so many long nights spent either alone or
enduring what passed for sex with Rylan, the contrast of Ben's gentle
hands was too much for him, the pleasure too intense. The sensation of
being gently stroked rather than seized, of being cherished and pleased
rather than used, was so wonderful that Ray couldn't control his response.
He wanted to draw this outbut he couldn't contain his own excitement. He
was moaning, making these loud noises cuz it felt *so* damn good.... And
Ben was breathing harder too, hot, excited puffs of breath against his
cheek. Ray's cock throbbed, and he felt the energy coiling at its base,
the surge gathering in his balls as they lifted and tightened. He bit his
lip hard, not wanting it to happen so soon, afraid of disappointing Ben. 

"Ben, wait! I can'thang on--" He was panting like a dog, like an animal.
He could hardly talk. Not just because of what Ben's hands were doing to
him, though that was intense enough--but also because he knew he'd bent
his whole concentration, his whole being it seemed, on trying to please
him, with no thought for himself. Ray had half forgotten how wonderful it
was, being the sole focus of Ben's erotic attention. He grabbed his own
cock, put his hand over Ben's, trying to slow down the stroking that was
driving him mad. 

"It's all right, Ray. Let go," Ben whispered in his ear. "This is for
you...." He sank his teeth gently into his earlobe, and Ray gave in
instantly. Took his interfering hand away and gave Ben free rein. No
questions asked. Beyond caring that it was selfish. Knowing he really only
wanted more of that hand, more of those teeth, more of whatever Ben wanted
to do to him-- 

Ben wanted, it seemed, to tighten his grip on his cock. Wanted to fist it
faster and faster. Pausing only briefly to give special attention to its
head, with fingers that were now slick with his pre-ejaculate. His
talented, sensitive fingers seemed to dance on the reddened, pulsing head
of Ray's cock with just the precise amount of pressure needed to give him
maximum pleasure. 

That tore away the last vestiges of his self control. Ray writhed in Ben's
arms, gasping for breath. A deep, thumping pleasure had been rising in
him, rising in answer to Ben's touch; and at that, it grew even stronger.
Harder, until the pulse of it shook his heart, his blood, his bones. He
groaned loudly, his whole body throbbing in time with Ben's strokes. His
whole universe narrowed to the pure, primal ecstasy of Ben's hands on his
cock. His strong, quickening rhythm, that was pulling it out of him.
Driving him on to his peak. He closed his eyes, giving up on the effort of
trying to ride the wave, to make it last. It was no use. He was only flesh
and blood, and he couldn't hold it in. He quit trying to stop it, and came
instantly. Exploded, in a burst of ecstasy so intense that the world went
dark around him. He hung suspended in Ben's arms for a time, crying out as
his cock jerked and spurted, endlessly it seemed, over Ben's hands. 

When he came back to himself, he opened his eyes slowly. Blinked, half
surprised to see that he was still alive. Still in his own shower. *Talk
about the earth movin'--damn! That was beyond good. It was incredible!* He
lay in Ben's embrace, weak and panting. His whole body felt limp, like
he'd been running for miles. But good, too. Filled with a happiness he
hadn't felt in months.	

Ben's arms were still curled protectively around him. One hand cradled his
cheek, the other traced gentle circles on his stomach. Ray could hear his
heavy breathing, feel his arousal, but his fingers were tender and
patient. He wasn't touching him erotically now, he was just waiting.
Caressing him gently as he waited for him to recover.  

Ben was amazing. It wasn't enough that he'd made him come so hard he
almost blacked out; now he was taking care of him, too. Ray had been
wanting this, longing for it: Ben's kindness, his tenderness, that filled
his heart like nothing else could. He loved Ben so much, so much it
pierced his heart. So much that it scared him. He felt tears spring to his
eyes. He took Ben's hands in his and held them. "God," he whispered. "What
ya do to me...." 

He turned to kiss him, and as he did, felt Ben's cock press against his
side. Ben was still hardso hard it was probably hurting him. The discovery
filled Ray with the desire to make Ben come in the same mind-blowing way
that he just had. "Now, I'm gonna take care o' you," he murmured, kissing
him tenderly. Moving over, he sat next to him on the floor of the shower,
and draped his right leg over Ben's left. He touched the semen on his
stomach, then held his fingers to Ben's mouth. 

"Know how ya love tastin' things," he said, smiling his best slow,
teasing, "Come fuck me" smile. "Taste me," he invited. 

Ben's eyes widened slightly with surprise, that melted instantly into
hunger. He sucked Ray's fingers into his mouth eagerly, swirling his
tongue over them. He closed his eyes, almost purring. Ray's mouth went
dry, just watching him. Knowing Ben was tasting *him* on his fingers. It
was trance-like. Hypnotic. He had to shake himself physically so he could
get back to the task at hand. 

He bent his head and breathed lightly on the tip of Ben's beautiful,
reddened, upthrust cock. Kissed it softly. "This is fer you, Benny Ben,"
he whispered, smiling as it quivered at his touch. Then he took it in his
mouth. Took it deep. Claimed it, the way Ben had just claimed him. He
sucked hard, and Ben shuddered, groaning wildly around Ray's captive
fingers. 

Ray smiled, and sucked harder. He knew that was only the beginning.  

**************************************************************************
*********  

They stayed in the shower for a long time. They couldn't seem to stop
touching. Couldn't get enough of each other. Ray teased Ben about it a
little, lowering his head as if to kiss him, then lifting it again before
their lips could touch. "Want that, huh?" he whispered, smiling, his voice
husky. 

Ben smiled back, but Ray saw him swallow hard. "Yes..." 

"Whaddaya want? Want me to kiss ya?" he asked, just to hear him say it. 

Ben could've easily grabbed him and taken the kiss he wanted, but he lay
back against the wall of the shower, playing along. Letting Ray tease him.
Letting him take control. "Yes, Ray," he said, his gaze on Ray's mouth.
Fastened there like he'd never seen anything he wanted more. "Pleasekiss
me again," he whispered, his tongue darting out over his lower lip in a
familiar gesture. 

At those words, and that erotic little sweep of Ben's tongue, Ray felt a
visceral thrill, right down to his toes. Ben had taken the lead before,
but he didn't seem to mind him taking over now. Hell, he looked like he
was enjoying it. After being with Rylan, who'd never even bothered to ask
him what he wanted, who'd treated him like some kind of boy toy sex slave,
just lie there and take it and shut up, Ben's willingness to please him
was pure heaven.  

Having Ben plead to be kissed was like a dream. He almost wanted to pinch
himself, to make sure it was real. That Ben was really here, naked with
him. Asking for more kisses, even though they'd just finished making love.
Being playful. Hell, that was better than any dream could ever be.  

Ray grinned. "'Kay. Since ya asked me nice...." He lowered his head again
and feasted on Ben's mouth, kissing and kissing and kissing his red lips
endlessly. He wet them with kisses, then traced his upper lip with his
tongue, and softly bit the fullness of his lower one. He tasted him
slowly, using his tongue lightly, thoroughly, then withdrawing gently.
Then he kissed his face, kissed his lovely blue eyes closed, traced the
high arch of his cheekbones, the dark sleekness of his hair with his
mouth, never getting enough.  

Ben finally grew impatient and turned his head to find his lips, to join
their mouths again. Ray moaned softly as their tongues entwined. All his
bruises, pain and grief were forgotten in the joy of being close to Ben
again. He felt high. Light, like he was floating. Drunk on champagne. Or
maybe it was love.  

Nothing else existed for him, or for Ben either. They kissed until they
made love again, kept kissing while they did it, then started kissing
again when they lay breathless and spent, until they made love again....
One led to the other. There in the wet spray, on the tiles, they arched
against each other again and again, with soft sighs and moans. Went to the
edge, then over it, sometimes together, sometimes one after the other.	

After a time, Ray remembered something he'd dreamed of, on those lonely
nights without Ben. "Want you to fuck me," he whispered in Ben's ear as he
kissed it. "Want you inside me." 

They'd never done that before. Ray had never done that with anyone. He'd
almost hit Rylan for even trying it. But with Ben, he wanted it. Wanted
everything he could think of, and then some. Because it would be Benny
Ben, giving it to him. Getting close to him in a way no one ever had. He
wanted that part most of all. 

But to his surprise, Ben hesitated. "Ray, we don't have to" 

Ray didn't want to hear that. "I want it," he said. Stubborn, impatient.
Remembering Rylan, and how he'd almost taken him by force. Taken what he
only wanted to give to Ben. He twisted out of Ben's arms, stood up and put
his hands flat on the slick shower wall. It felt cool under his hands, an
exquisite counterpoint to the heat they were generating.  

"Now," he said, offering himself. He more than wanted it, he *needed* to
have Ben inside him. To find out what it felt like. But Fraser didn't
move, and Ray turned his head to look curiously at him.  

Ben stood behind him, his pale skin flushed pink with the heat of the
shower and their sex, beads of water clinging to his big, muscular body,
his dark hair wet to raven blackness. Ray had finger-combed it while he'd
kissed him, slicked it neatly back from his face, baring his innocent
features. Now his mouth went dry at the pure, angelic beauty of him. 

*God,* he thought, in awe. *He looks like somethin' out of a wet dream.*
Then he smiled. *Guess this is kind of a wet dream! We're both wet, and
he's so beautiful, he's like a dream...." 

But why was Ben hesitating? He suddenly had another twinge of insecurity,
remembering what he looked like. Banged up, bandaged, funny-colored
bruises everywhere. Not exactly wet dream material. Hell, he wasn't that
even when he was at his best. Wasn't in Ben's class, and he knew it. The
Mountie was world class in the looks department. A classic, like a
Lamborghini. He was more like a base model Toyota. Skinny, average
looking--guys like him were a dime a dozen. It was why he had experimental
hair. He had to do stuff like that, to get people to even look at him.
Most people, anyway.  

Then again--Ben had looked at him. Looked real hard, with hunger in his
eyes. He'd said he didn't care about his bruises. Hell, he'd even told him
once that he thought he was handsome. Still, his hesitation now made him
wonder. Either he'd changed his mind about that, or maybe he had other
reasons for holding back.  

*Maybe he doesn't wanna do it at all.* It suddenly hit him that he'd more
or less demanded it. Ordered Ben to do it, instead of asking him if he
wanted to. *Selfish bastard,* he chided himself. His throat closed up
painfully. "Don't you wanna?" he asked, not daring to ask why.	

At that, Ben finally moved. Slipped his arms around him from behind, and
kissed his neck. "Yes, Ray," he breathed. His voice sounded hushed. Dark.
Intimate. Like he was confessing secret sins to a priest.  

Excitement sizzled through Ray. He wanted to be one of those sins. Wanted
it bad. Only it wouldn't be a sin, not with Ben. He knew that. More like a
gift. "Then do it," he said. 

**************************************************************************
*********  

"Want you inside me," Ray whispered to him.  

Ben shivered. His heart turned over. He couldn't believe what they were
doing, how many times they'd made love already, and how much he wanted to
do it again. He'd never felt so insatiable. And to hear Ray ask for that 

*I used to dream of doing that to him. Of really taking him, making him
mine ... of possessing him like that.* But those had been secret, guilty
dreams he'd confessed to no one, not even Ray himself. Not even when
they'd become lovers. Because the act could cause pain, especially if
you'd never done it before. He had, but he doubted that Ray had, and he'd
already hurt him in his impatience. He didn't want to do it again. 

But he did want to possess Rayto take him back from Rylan. Though soaping
him thoroughly, then making love to him had blunted the edge of it, that
dark need still pulsed inside him, simmering below the surface. Ray's
unexpected words revived it, as if he'd somehow guessed how he felt,
glimpsed his secret obsession.	

But Ben's reasons for wanting to do it were not all selfish or dark. He
also wanted the incredible pleasure that particular kind of lovemaking
gave: the feeling of closeness, of oneness, that was so unique. He wanted
to feel that, but he also wanted to share that closeness with Ray, to show
him how wonderful it felt, too. So when Ray asked him to do it, despite
the steam surrounding them, his mouth went dry. All rational thought fled
his mind. He imagined pinning him to the wet tiles and thrusting deep
inside him, joining them in a way he never had before.	

His excitement was primitive. Primal. It seared along his nerves,
hardening him, frightening him with its power. The shower was like their
own little erotic world, and he was reveling in it, and in Ray's eagerness
to touch him, and to be touched. After being so long without it, he was
rediscovering the deep, heady, addictive pleasures of sex. Given the
chance, he would've spent the next week in here with him. But he hadn't
expected Ray to ask for this, for what he wanted most. So he didn't answer
him at first. He held back, unsure of his own self control. He was afraid
of getting carried away again, and of hurting Ray a second time. 

Afraid of becoming Rylan, while trying to banish his ghost. 

He considered saying no. But then Ray turned to him and asked plaintively,
"Don't you wanna?" 

Those simple words stole his heart. Reminded him of how fragile Ray was,
in other ways than the merely physical. How easily he could be hurt. And
though he doubted he really understood what he was asking, it was Ray
askingand he loved Ray.  

So he went to him, put his arms around him and kissed his doubts away.
Confessed that he wanted it too, and saw Ray smile. All the while, he
searched his mind for the way that would be right, that would cause the
least discomfort. Because it was Ray asking. 

**************************************************************************
******* 

Ben took his hand, and led him out of the shower. "Come on. Let's get
dried off," he said. "I wantthat is, I think we should do this in your
bed." 

Ray's heart skipped, then settled into a faster beat than normal. *He's
gonna do it!* Ben was really going to fuck him, take him the way he'd been
dreaming about. As they toweled themselves off, his mouth went dry with
excitement. The fact that Ben wanted to do it in his bed kind of made it
seem special somehow. He knew it was possible he might've just gotten
tired of making love in the shower, but Ray doubted that. It felt like the
Mountie was thinking of him in this, taking care of him; and it was a
great feeling. Fraser wasn't shy about asking him to risk his life on the
job, and for a long time, that had blinded him to how much he cared. But
in private, he showed a different side. He was thoughtful, attentive. He
looked out for him like no one else in his whole adult life, except for
Stella, ever had.  

Ray wanted to thank him, but didn't want to sound mushy. So he reached out
and toweled his dark, wet hair instead, and smiled into the bright blue of
his eyes. "Yer too good lookin', ya know," he teased softly, to cover his
feelings. "Oughtta be a law." 

Ben didn't object to his teasing, or the toweling either. With his dark,
damp hair curling into ringlets on his forehead, he smiled back at him.
"There is, Ray. Concerning what we're about to do, anyway. I believe it is
still illegal in the U.S.," he said, his eyes twinkling. "At least in some
states." 

Ray grinned, his heart still beating rapidly at the thought of it. "Guess
I'll haveta arrest ya then," he said, dropping his towel on the floor as
he reached for his hand. 

"I see. Well then, maybe you'd better read me my rights, Ray," Ben
answered, playing along as they headed out of the bathroom. 

Ray grinned. He loved it when Ben got into the spirit of things, when they
were in sync like this. *Partnership. It's the best.*  

"Okay. Well, ya got the right to remain silentbut I hope ya don't. I like
hearin' ya moan," he said, leaning over to purr it into Ben's ear. "Turns
me on," he added. He loved talking sexy to his Mountie, loved the way it
always made him blush. 

Ben turned pink on cue, but Ray thought he looked pleased all the same.
Adorably tousled and happy to know that he turned him on. "Understood,"
Ben said as they walked. 

"Then ya got the right to an attorney," Ray went on. "But unless ya plan
to sue me for makin' ya come, ya won't need one." 

"Ray!" Ben sounded faintly shocked. 

Ray just grinned as he pulled him along. "One last thing. Ya got the right
to make *me* come too. As many times as ya want. Ya got all that?" 

Fraser nodded, a mischievous look in his blue eyes. "I'm not sure your
version matches the official Miranda," he said solemnly, "but it will do."


Ray laughed. "Good! Then let's get to it." Without any further ado, he sat
down on his bed, and pulled Ben down onto it beside him. 

**************************************************************************
********* 

Ben kissed Ray thoroughly, slowly, wanting to draw the moment out. He was
still laughing inside at Ray's bizarre, erotic version of the Miranda
rights, and touched by his desire to make love in a new way. He could feel
Ray's heart racing against him, and though it was immensely flattering, he
needed to slow things down a little. He wanted to relax him, to make him
more tranquil, so that his body would accept him with the least amount of
pain. 

When they came up for air, Ray asked, "How d'ya wanna do it?" Typically,
he was all nervous impatience. "Want me on my stomach, or what?" 

Ben shook his head. "No." He'd thought that over already. In deference to
Ray's still-healing ribs, he'd decided he should lie down on his back for
this. It would be easier for Ray, and nicer for him, too. He took Ray's
hand in his and smiled tenderly at him. "I want.... Well, I want to see
you, Ray," he confessed shyly. "To look at you, while we--" 

Ben knew that he must've said just the right thing, because he was
rewarded by one of Ray's rare, but exceedingly sweet smiles. "Oh," he
said. "That's cool. Okay then." He laid down on his back, spread his legs
and locked his hands behind his head, as if displaying himself for Ben's
pleasure. "Look away," he invited, smiling. 

As if Ben could've done anything else. He wasn't sure if he'd finally
convinced Ray that he found him handsome in spite of his bruises, or if
he'd just done this to please him, but his mouth went dry all over again,
at the sight of him. Words failed him, and for a moment, all he could do
was stare. Bandages and all, Ray was beautiful, so beautiful. He didn't
feel like he deserved having such beauty laid out like that, just for him.
Ray's whipcord lean body, a masterpiece of masculine architecture, all
hard planes and angles, yet graceful and immensely sensual as well. His
hair, dampened to a dark shade of bronze in the shower, his beautiful
cock, his lovely skin and long legs, were all marvelous to him. All
precious and lovely. He loved every little detail of him, from the tattoo
that curled starkly blue about Ray's right arm, to his long, honey-colored
lashes, to the pale golden fuzz of the hair on his arms, legs and groin.
Ben loved it all. He took his time and just savored the sight, feeding his
own ardor. Just looking at Ray made him want to touch him, to taste him,
all over again. It was all he could do not to throw himself on the bed and
lick him from head to toe. 

But he tabled that idea. Filed it away for future consideration, because
it wasn't what Ray wanted now. What he'd asked for. He forced his thoughts
back to the matter at hand. He moved toward the bed, drawn to his lover
like a magnet, feeling deliciously sexual, almost like a libertine, set
free by Ray's own desire for him.  

Then he remembered. He couldn't just throw himself on his friend, he
needed something to make it easier for Ray. A lubricant. He was amazed
that he'd almost forgotten something so important, but he supposed it was
understandable. Faced with such a temptingly beautiful distraction as his
spiky-haired lover, it was difficult to think of safety precautions. Or of
anything else but making love to him. "Excuse me for just a moment," he
said, turning towards the hall. 

Ray raised a curious eyebrow, but Ben was too embarrassed to tell him what
he was doing. "I just need to borrow something," he said over his shoulder
as he headed towards Ray's bathroom.  

"What?"  

"It won't take a moment," he called back, too embarrassed to give Ray any
details. Then he was in the bathroom. He opened Ray's medicine cabinet,
and surveyed the toothpaste and other common items inside. That wouldn't
help 

"There," he said aloud with some satisfaction. "This will do." He grabbed
a small bottle filled with an amber colored liquid, and headed eagerly
back towards the bedroom. 

When he came in holding the bottle, Ray eyed it curiously. "That's the oil
Stella gave me. Vitamin E stuff. Don't use it much. It's got this girly
smell, like perfume. Ya gonna put oil on yer hair or somethin', Ben?" he
asked.	

Fraser climbed back onto the bed, shaking his head. "No. This is for you,
Ray," he said, hoping Kowalski would grasp its intimate purpose without
requiring him to explain further. But Ray just frowned at him. He
swallowed, searching for the right words. "Well, it's for both of us,
actually. It's towell, iteases the way, so to speak. Itmakes it easier,
that is, to--" He floundered to a halt, so embarrassed that he was
stuttering. He could hardly get the words out, partly because the subject
was sexual, but partly because thinking about that, about what he was
going to do with it, excited him so much that it was difficult to string a
coherent sentence together.  

Finally, Ray relented, and grinned at him. "Just teasin' ya. I know what
ya want it for. It's lube," he said. 

Fraser let out a breath, half relieved, half exasperated at Ray's pretend
ignorance. "Yes, exactly." 

Ray just grinned at him as he opened the bottle, completely unrepentant.
"Anybody ever tell ya yer cute when ya blush, Ben?" 

Fraser shook his head, knowing that his ridiculous blush was probably
deepening at the unexpected compliment.  

"Well, ya are. Even yer ears get pink." 

That really embarrassed him. Not knowing what to say, he stared down at
the oil he was pouring into his hand. Tried to concentrate on its pleasant
floral scent, instead of the way his pale skin was betraying his emotions.


Ray seemed to sense his discomfort, because he changed the subject
suddenly. "Want me to put that on for ya?" he teased. "The love oil, I
mean." 

At least, Fraser thought he was teasing him again. But when he raised his
head and saw the hungry glint mixed with the amusement in his partner's
eyes, he knew the offer was genuine. But he shook his head. He was getting
aroused already, just hearing Ray call the amber liquid "love oil". Merely
by rubbing the oil onto his fingers. If Ray touched him with it, he
wouldn't be able to control himself long enough to make love to him the
way he'd asked him to. "No. I don't think that would be a good idea, Ray."


Ray's gaze dropped down to his groin, and he smiled again. Even more
wickedly this time. "Guess not," he observed. 

Ben found that arousing, too. Actually, he found everything about Ray so
arousing that he knew this wasn't going to be easy. He put the bottle down
on Ray's bedside stand, moved over beside him and slipped a pillow under
his hips. Then he lowered himself down on top of him. He positioned
himself between his legs but supported himself on his forearms, so their
hips touched, but his weight wasn't on Ray's chest. "I'm going to kiss you
for awhile first," he said softly.  

He'd meant to slow things down, but it seemed Ray had other plans. As Ben
lowered his head, he felt an immediate rise in tension in the lean body
beneath him, in the hands that clutched at his back. "I am all *over* that
idea," Ray smiled. Ray's mouth rose to meet his, and it was hungry.
Passionate. He drove his tongue deep into Ben's mouth, sucking eagerly. It
excited Ben so much that he had to push the sensation away. Remind himself
that if he got aroused too quickly, he was liable to forget his own
strength and hurt Ray again. He had to remain calm, and he would, for
Ray's sake. 

But Ray wasn't making that easy. His mouth was too hot, his kisses too
exciting, for Ben to maintain control. So he broke the kiss and pushed
Ray's head gently back down onto his pillow. Rained gentle kisses on his
face, avoiding his mouth, trying to get him to relax. "Lie back and let
yourself float," he said, in the softest, most soothing tone he could
summon.  

Ray snorted in mingled amusement and exasperation. "What're you, my swim
coach? This bed look like a body o' water to you?" 

"I wasn't speaking literally, Ray. Please" 

"That's what I'm tryin' to do! Please ya," Kowalski grinned. "Come on,
Ben" 

Beneath his teasing, there was a plea in Ray's voice, mixed with
characteristic impatience. Ben sucked in his breath when, instead of
relaxing as he'd asked, Ray cheated by caressing him instead. Slipping his
hands lower, until they closed over his buttocks, he kneaded them
strongly. Sensually. Pressing their cocks tighter together in the process.
 

"How's that?" he murmured, with an evil little smile. 

Ben felt his cock harden even more. "Distracting--in the extreme," he said
truthfully. He meant it as a reproof, but it failed, because his voice was
somewhat unsteady. His words said no, but his voice said, yes, yes! So did
the rapid tripping of his heart. In fact, Ray's caress felt so good that
he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning aloud with pleasure. So good
that for a selfish instant, he considered abandoning his plan to go
slowly, and simply throwing himself on his lover instead. Ray grinned up
at him, obviously wanting him to just that. 

But Ben refused to give in to his plea, his enticing grin, or to the
erotic demands of his hands, either. He wanted this, their first time at
this sort of lovemaking, to be special for Ray. To be as painless as he
could possibly make it. So he took a deep breath and tried to still the
rapid beating of his own heart. "Close your eyes, Ray," he said gently.
"Breathe deeply." 

Kowalski rolled his eyes. "What, now ya wanna hypnotize me?" he grumbled.
"Thought we were sposed to be" 

"We are. We will. I promise. Justrelax," Fraser said hastily, half afraid
his partner was going to get angry. Start yelling at him to get on with
it.  

But Ray just sighed instead. A gusty little sigh of surrender. "Okay. Have
it yer way," he said. He closed his eyes and began taking deeper breaths,
as he'd asked him to. Moved his hands up to his waist again, and just held
him instead of trying to arouse him.  

"Good," Ben said, gratified. "That's it." 

He traced Ray's lips with his tongue, and smiled when they parted for him.
Ray's eagerness sent another jolt of excitement through him, and he had to
steady himself before going on. He planted chaste little kisses on Ray's
mouth for a time, not venturing inside, just caressing his hip gently with
his left hand, until he felt Kowalski's simmering desire change to
tenderness, a kind of mellow enjoyment of his caresses. When Ray's
breathing and heartbeat slowed, he reached down between Ray's legs with
his right hand, the hand that he'd oiled, found the spot he wanted and
slipped a finger inside of him. 

Ray's heart leapt against him. In an instant, the air between them was
heated again. Sizzling with desire, both Ray's and his. Ben's heart
skipped a beat, too, when he felt how tight his blond partner was.
Gloriously, wonderfully hot and tight. But Ben persisted in caressing him
slowly, exploring the sweetness of his warm mouth while he started to open
his body with one finger. Then two.... He kept thrusting gently, rotating
his fingers, coating him thoroughly inside with the oil, making his tight
passage slick with it. Ray groaned suddenly, a low, involuntary sound deep
in his throat. Ben stilled, thinking he'd hurt him. But Ray pushed against
him, his hands tightening around his waist, his hips lifting to drive his
fingers deeper inside him. His gasps were eager, impatient, not pained.
More like gasps of pure excitement. 

"Mm, mm, mmm!" Ray moaned, breathing harder. 

Ben's own heart leapt. The time he'd taken to quiet Ray had paid off. He'd
opened him without hurting him, and he was widening deliciously as they
kissed. He was also clearly getting aroused by the penetration of his
fingers. He couldn't help but wonder how Ray would react when they were
replaced by his cock.... It was all Ben could do not to pant
uncontrollably himself, at the very thought of that. His earlier need to
reclaim Ray grew stronger, and his arousal intensified. But he clung
stubbornly to his control for Ray's sake. He searched his mind for a
distraction, a way to slow himself down. He remembered how Kowalski
sometimes talked to him while they made love, and decided to try that.
"Tell me, Ray," he whispered in his ear, keeping him dangling. "Tell me
you want me...." 

Still holding himself up on one arm, he began to move his fingers faster
inside of him, and Ray gasped again. "Oh yeah." He began moaning in rhythm
with each thrust. "I want you--so much--it's been makin' meoh,
God!--crazy--since the day--I left ya. Okay?" Ray shivered. "Dammit,
pleasejust do it. Fuck me!"  

Ray was moving restlessly under him, begging to be taken. But Ben knew he
wasn't quite ready. He was rather large when fully aroused, and Ray was
slender, and still very tight.... He slipped another finger into him. At
least, he tried to; but this time, it was difficult. Ray gasped, his anus
tightening convulsively before he'd worked even half of his third finger
inside.  

Ben lifted his head. Ray trembled and sucked in a harsh, hissing breath.
Ben froze for a second, knowing that he'd hurt him this time, despite his
precautions. So he stilled his probing fingers, lowered his mouth to a
sensitive spot on Ray's neck, and kissed it gently. "Are you sure you want
this, Ray?" he asked, giving him a chance to back out if it was too
painful. 

"Are you nuts?" Ray gasped. "Look how hard I am!" 

Ben didn't have to look, he knew. Ray's cock was rigid against his flat
belly. And he'd also noticed that despite his pain, Ray hadn't let go of
him, hadn't repulsed him or tried to stop him. He was still clinging to
him, arching against him, and Ben knew that was an answer in itself.
Still, despite Ray's denials, he also knew that he was hurting. Since
talking seemed to distract him, when he felt the opening of his anus
loosen again, he slid his fingers slowly deeper and whispered, "Tell me
again, Ray. Say you want me."  

Ray shivered under him, arching upward, digging his fingers into his back
as he moaned, "Hell yeah! Want you so bad, Ben" He raised his head and
kissed Ben's throat, even bit it lightly where his pulse was racing. 

It sent a wave of heat crackling over Ben, those hoarse words, that hungry
bite. Ray wanted him. Him, not Rylan. He'd said sosaid his name, so Ben
could finally believe it. Ray wasn't imagining someone else here in his
bed, he wanted *him*: Benton Fraser. He closed his eyes and savored that
fact for an instant. It was wildly exciting, and it was what he'd wanted
more than anything. When he could speak again, he said hoarsely, "I want
you too, Ray." 

Then Ben couldn't wait any longer. He was shaking himself, both from
hearing that and from the effort of holding back, of holding his own
intense desire at bay while he readied his lover. His head spun from the
mixed scents of Ray's body, sweaty and musky with arousal, and the
lighter, floral aroma of the oil he'd stroked deep inside of him. Ray
smelled of flowers and sex, and Ben had never imagined a scent so
enticing.  

Ray opened his eyes and looked at him. "Do it," he said. His pale blue
eyes were intense. Heated, glittering with hunger. He smiled up at Ben,
and he looked beautiful, savage, feral: like a wolf. Fraser loved him so
much, it seemed his heart would break. 

So he gave him what he wanted most. Supporting himself on one arm, he
oiled himself up with a trembling hand, then slid inside him. Slowly, inch
by inch. Though every cell in his body was screaming to plunge deep, not
just to take Ray but to possess him wildly, he held back, and pushed in
gently. Carefully. Despite the oil, Ray still felt tight. Tight and hot
around him, like a velvety glove. A glove ringed with strong muscles, that
squeezed him instinctively as he slid into it. Ray felt so wonderful, Ben
groaned as the head of his cock slipped inside of him.	

It was all he could do not to come. He closed his eyes for a minute,
trying to maintain control as he pushed a fraction deeper.  

He heard Ray gasp. He opened his eyes to check on him, and saw that Ray's
eyes were tightly shut in a look of pain. His body had gone stiff, and his
inner muscles contracted convulsively, squeezing Ben's cock with painful
force. Ben held himself still, not going any further. "Are you--all right,
Ray?" he asked. 

It was clear that he wasn't, because for a minute, Ray didn't answer. He
swallowed and shuddered slightly, his mouth still taut with pain, his
fingers digging into Ben's skin for a long moment. Then, just when Ben was
about to withdraw, not wanting to hurt him any more, Ray let out a soft
sigh. His anus relaxed around Ben's cock, and his tight expression eased
into one of surprise, then near bliss. He smiled, running his hands over
Ben's biceps in a caress. "Oh yeah," he breathed. "I'm good. I'm fine.
It's okay...." 

Ben knew what that meant: Ray's pain was easing, had started to turn into
pleasure. He was doubly glad he'd decided to make love to him like this,
so he could see that amazing look on Ray's face, as pain changed to
rapture. That sweet softening, the beginnings of ecstasy. Relieved, he
slid into him a little further.  

Ray's lips parted in another little gasp. This time, one of pure pleasure.
"Oh God," he whispered, sliding his caressing hands up, wrapping them
around Ben's neck. "That's so good!" 

"Yes," Ben whispered back, kissing the strong, lovely arch of Ray's
throat. He was infinitely grateful that he was no longer hurting his
lover, that Ray was starting to enjoy this. That he wanted him to go on.
He pushed deeper, moaning with the pleasure of it.  

But it seemed he'd pushed too far, too fast. Because Ray gasped, the
tendons in his neck cording as he bit his lip. Ben stopped. He was halfway
inside Ray now, and shaking with the need to finish it, to bury himself
completely in his lover. But he still held back. "Did I hurt you?" he
panted. 

"No!" Ray said. He shook his head, slid his hands downward from Ben's
neck, dug his fingers into his straining shoulders. "Go on. Gimme all of
it. All o' you!" 

But Ben hesitated, feeling the tension in his lover's body. 

"I want it," Ray panted stubbornly. "Come on" All at once, he pulled on
Ben's shoulders, a determined downward yank that was so strong it caught
Ben by surprise. He lost his balance and fell forward with a startled
grunt; and the movement drove him all the way into Ray. Suddenly buried to
the hilt inside his lover, Ben froze, startled, his head beside Ray's on
the pillow, his heart pounding. Ray was so tight, so very hot and tight,
and despite the pleasure that throbbed through his cock at being sheathed
with such delicious force, he feared it must've hurt him. 

"Wait" He would've pulled away, pulled back, but Ray caught him.  

"No." Ray slipped his arms around his back, then slid his hands down to
Ben's buttocks. Those long, strong, elegant hands held him stubbornly in
place as Ray caught his breath. Ben felt his body adjusting to his
penetration, heard Ray's breath coming easier. Then he laughed, a warm
little chuckle in Ben's ear. Pain drowned in eagerness. "Can't wait. Don't
wanna. Come on, Benny Ben!" Ray turned his head and kissed him
breathlessly, rocking his hips upward slightly. Just enough to give Ben a
taste of what thrusting into him would feel like. "Fuck me!"  

Now Ray had what he'd wanted. So did Ben. He was all the way inside Ray.
Ray was his, and he was Ray's, body and soul. The realization touched him
so deeply that he lifted his head to look at him. To check Ray's face one
last time for any signs of serious pain, before the last ounce of his self
control deserted him.  

Impatient as always, Ray bit his lip, his blond head tossing on the pillow
with sheer frustration. "Come ON, Ben! Swear to God--if ya don't, I'll
die!" 

Ben blinked. "That's a myth, Ray! Coitus interruptus never killed anyone."


Ray sucked in a breath, half moan, half laugh. "Dunno what that is, but if
ya stop now, I'll haveta kill ya!" 

Ben nodded. "Understood." 

Then they both burst out laughing, so hard that Ben almost fell onto Ray
again. 

It was the most incredible sensation. Joined together as they were, Ben
could feel Ray laughing. It rumbled through him, shaking his belly, and he
knew Ray could feel his just as well. Ben thought it was amazingly sexyand
judging by the way that Ray stopped giggling, threw his head back and
moaned, it was just as arousing to him. The sight of his abandonment shot
a bolt of pure desire through Ben. It was thrilling, even moving, that Ray
wanted him so much--enough to endure considerable pain, in order to be
close to him in this way. Enough to tease him that he would die unless he
took him immediately.  

Ben's laughter stilled. He suddenly understood what Ray meant. He felt
like he'd die himself unless he finished what he'd started, unless he
completed their joining. He lowered his head until his forehead rested on
Ray's. "I love you," he whispered, shaken. 

Ray tilted his chin up and kissed him. "If ya do, then move. Please! Do
me, before I die o' waiting!" he pleaded. 

"Right you are," Ben smiled. He pulled Ray's legs apart a bit more, then
raised himself up on his forearms again, and began to move. Pulling out of
him, then thrusting gently in again. Ray wrapped his legs around him and
moaned happily. That sound filled Ben's world. Nothing existed but Ray:
his warm, soft mouth, his hands holding him. His hoarse groans of
pleasure, filling his mouth like sweet wine as they came together. Ray's
body joined to his, wrapped hot and tight around his aching cock. Ray's
cock, hot and hard against his belly. They were one, one joined body, not
two separate individuals any longer. It was beautiful, perfect, sublime.
Ben moaned deliriously, taking his lover's breath then giving it back,
wanting to stay deep inside of him forever. This was how it was meant to
be; how they were meant to be. Together.  

He was home at last. 

**************************************************************************
******** 

For a long moment after Ray pulled Ben down onto him, driving him all the
way into him, neither of them moved. Despite the care Fraser had taken to
prepare him, his cock had filled Ray to bursting, stretched him until it
hurtbut he loved it, despite the pain. Because it was Ben with him, Ben
who was huge, hot and throbbing inside him. Ben who was doing something to
him even Stella had never done. Ben who moaned into his kiss as he started
to move, making wild sounds he'd never heard before, telling him how much
he'd wanted this too. His Ben, who'd said that he loved him. 

Ray was in heaven. If he'd known it would feel this good, he'd've had Ben
do it to him that first time. They were closer than they'd ever been
before, together in a way he'd only imagined until now. He wasn't sure
where he ended anymore, and Ben began.	

It was sweet, it was hot, it was wild. It was meant to be, and Ray knew
it.  

He clung to Ben as he filled him, then withdrew. Over and over. Ray got
lost in the heat of it. The hot, dark sweetness of it. In the back of his
mind, he knew that first times weren't supposed to feel this good, but now
that the initial pain had faded, it was *amazing*. Ben thrust slowly, as
if he were caught up in it too, as if he didn't want it to end either.
After a time, he bent his dark head and whispered, "Say it again, Ray." It
was more like a plea than a command. He sounded a bit desperate. "Tell me
you're mine."  

For a second, Ray was confused. *Already told him that. Wasn't he
listening?* That was hard to believe. Ben didn't usually miss important
stuff like that, and he didn't usually talk much during sex, either. But
he'd been asking him that over and over. Ever since they'd started making
love, it seemed. All of a sudden, he seemed obsessed with that question-- 

Suddenly, a memory flashed through his head. He remembered Rylan saying,
"You're mine, Ko." 

And he knew what this was about. The truth finally burst on him. *It's
about Pat Rylan.*  

Ben knew about him and Rylan--that they'd been lovers. Ray didn't know how
he'd found out, but he had. The knowledge speared cold, stark fear through
him. Though Ben was buried deep inside him, he froze, frightened and
ashamed. Ben gasped out loud, shuddering a little, and Ray realized
belatedly that he'd clamped down hard on him with his sphincter muscles.  

"Sorry," he gritted, forcing himself to relax.	

Ben started moving again, but Ray couldn't let it go. When Ben started
making love to him, he'd stopped thinking. He'd been lost in sex, in pure
sensation and feeling. But now his mind kicked in, starting racing, trying
to figure it out. *He must've known all along,* he thought. *Probly
figured it out from the cuff marks on my wrists, back in the hospital. Or
maybe when I told him about the AIDS test.* It didn't really matter how
Ben had twigged to it--what mattered was what he was going to do about it.
The ecstasy that had been building in him started to fade, replaced by
embarrassment and fear.  

He tried to reassure himself. *Okay, so he knows. But he still came here.
He still made love to me. Told me he loves me too, and he meant it. I know
he did....* But he couldn't figure out why. Why Ben would still love him,
or why he kept asking him to say that he belonged to him, when he knew
what he and Rylan had done. Ray felt guilt for not owning up to it. Worse
still, he suddenly realized that he'd never actually said the L word to
Ben. Had never told him he loved him.  

*Maybe he thinks I just want him, but that I was in love with Rylan.* 

It hit him like a slap in the face. Suddenly, he understood everything:
the soap ritual earlier in the shower, Fraser's unusual forcefulness, his
repeated, possessive demands.... All of it. Ben wasn't just making love to
him, he was competing for him--with a ghost. Rylan's ghost. *He's
jealous!* he realized, shocked. *Jealous as I ever was about Vecchio.*
That was why he'd soaped every inch of his skin, lingered over the bruises
Rylan had put on his wrists, then washed him off thoroughly. In some
strange way, he'd been trying to remove every trace of his former lover
from his body. Ben would've probably had some fancy, Inuit-related,
psycho-babble explanation for that. Would've said it was symbolic or
tribal or Freudian, or some damn thing. But Ray knew it was jealousy,
plain and simple. Ben had been bitten by the green-eyed monster. That was
why he kept asking him to declare himself, to say that he belonged to him,
when he'd never done that before.  

Ben was jealous as hell. And even though he'd never said a word about it,
the barely hidden urgency in his voice told Ray that he'd also been hurt.
*He's scared, too. Scared that I was in love with Pat or somethin'that I
can't forget him. That's why he's doin' all this. That's why he finally
came out and told me he loves me. He wants to know if this is more than
sex. Wants to know if I love him, too. But I didn't say it. Shit! I hurt
him worse than I ever knew.* 

Ben had stopped moving again, and was staring down at him with a worried
look, as if he knew he'd withdrawn from him on some level. Ray knew what
he had to do to make things right. And it was what he wanted to do anyway.
Ben had already said it, it was about time that he returned the favor.
That he made him believe it. He reached up and gripped Fraser's biceps
tightly, digging his shaky fingers into his skin. "I'm yers, Benny Ben,"
he said hoarsely, pouring his heart into the words. His soul. "All yers. I
love you. Ya hear me? I LOVE YOU! Just you. No one else." 

Ben sighed. A long, deep ahhhh, with his whole body. Then he lowered his
head and kissed him. "Thank you, Ray," he whispered against his mouth. His
voice sounded thick, like his emotions were so strong they almost choked
him. 

Ray closed his eyes and smiled. Now, he had everything in the world that
he wanted. Wellalmost everything. And he knew how to get that one last
thing. "Don't mention it," he said. "But don't stop, either."  

Ben smiled at him. Then he closed his eyes and moved faster.  

"That's--good," Ray panted, staring up into his lover's beautiful, rapt
face. "Oh, yeah. Mmmm...."  

Ben thrust a bit harder, and a surge of pure excitement flamed through
Ray's belly. He closed his eyes too, wanting to feel it, to savor the
previously unknown, wonderful sensation of Ben moving inside him. The
heat, the delicious friction of it. The feeling of being filled and
covered and rocked, all at the same time. It was incredible, like nothing
he'd ever known.  

When he opened his eyes again, he saw that a few locks of dark hair had
fallen over Ben's forehead, and he felt him trembling. When he moved his
hands down his arms, he felt the strain in his big body, and realized that
Ben was holding back. Even now, even after he'd hauled him down on top of
him and told him to go for it, he was still afraid to let go, afraid to
hurt him.  

*To Hell with that,* he thought. "Come on, Ben," he chanted, urging him
on. "Fastergo faster! I can take it. I want it!"  

But Ben didn't want to do it. He shook his head silently, as if he were
beyond words, but he didn't move any faster.  

Ray grimaced with frustration. He was sick of being coddled, of being
treated like an invalid. He wanted his lover, wanted all of him, wanted
him *now*. He thrust his hips up against Ben's, meeting his downward
strokes, changing their depth, and Ben's rhythm. "Give itto me!" he
panted, determined. "DO it!" 

Ben gasped, and bit his lip. 

But he couldn't resist the way Ray had increased the tempo. He was forced
to thrust deeper, and when he did, Ray felt his cock hit something deep
inside him. Some secret g-spot, that wrung a groan of ecstasy from him.
"Oh, God. Oh, Jesusyeah! Do that--" 

As if hearing that finally broke the last of his control, Ben shut his
eyes again, and began to put his back into it. His strokes grew faster and
harder, thrusting deeper into Ray, so strongly that they pushed his body
up the bed. Since arching his hips up to meet those forceful thrusts
started to lance pain through his ribs, Ray laid back and held on to Ben's
arms to brace himself instead, his own cock hard and bobbing against his
stomach as his lover fucked him hard and fast. On and on, deeper and
deeper, until almost every thrust hit that spot that strobed ecstasy
through his whole body. Ray couldn't talk anymore, he could hardly even
breathe. He just gasped for air and hung onto Ben's arms as Ben groaned,
hips churning above him. Driving into him. God, he was so strong! So damn
strong it felt like he could do this forever 

"Ohhhhh---" 

Ray wanted him to do it forever. He didn't care if he died this way,
didn't care if it killed him. He could hear himself moaning loudly, almost
sobbing, delirious with pleasure, but still, Ben didn't stop. 

It was wild. Raw. Ecstatic. Better than anything Ray had ever felt in his
life. So the time came, all too soon, when he couldn't hold back anymore.
He came, crying out as semen sprayed onto his chest, onto Ben's belly.	

Driven over the edge by his climax, Ben cried out too. Ray felt his cock
pulse powerfully, then hot liquid flooded him as he came. That blew his
mind. He'd felt Ben come inside of him: every throbbing, pulsating inch of
his hard cock, the hot jetting of his semen. And he loved it, loved it
that he'd done that to him. Loved it even more that he'd been able to feel
his climax deep inside his body, like he never had before. It felt hot.
Deliriously intimate. 

Ray lay limp on the bed, his eyes closed, his heart thundering in his
chest. Ben kept on moving inside him. Slower now, and he was still
trembling, but he kept moving. Surging gently inside him. Keeping them
together, keeping them one. Like he didn't want to let him go, didn't want
to let it end yet. "Oh, Ray," he whispered hoarsely.  

Ray pulled his head down and kissed him. He didn't have any words for what
had just happened. He doubted that anybody had ever invented any that
could say what he was feeling. What Ben had done to him. Was still doing. 

But sometimes you don't need words. So he just pulled Ben down onto him
again, mending ribs and bullet wound stitches be damned, and tried to kiss
him with everything he had: his hands, his mouth, his whole body. Hoping
that would get the message across. Then he stopped kissing him just long
enough for Ben to catch his breath. And just in case he hadn't got the
message, he pressed his lips to his shoulder, stroked his dark hair and
said it again. "I love you, Ben. Love you. I love you...." 

Despite the slight pain in his ribs from Ben's weight, Ray didn't want to
let him go. He held him and stroked him for a long time. Ben didn't say
anything, but Ray didn't mind, because he didn't pull away either. Didn't
pull out of him, even after he softened inside him. He didn't even seem to
mind the sticky mess of come on his belly. He slipped his arms around Ray
and embraced him too. Kowalski just laid there holding him, loving his
weight, his warmth, not wanting to sever their bodies' connection.  

But when Ben finally lifted his head, Ray was shocked to see tears in his
eyes. "Oh, damn," he whispered, shaken. He pulled away from him then,
finally. Forced himself up into a sitting position so that he could search
his eyes. He'd thought Ben was okay with this, that he was as excited and
pleased and overwhelmed as he was. "What'sa matter? What'd I do? What's
wrong?" 

Ben shook his head, smiling through his tears as he sat up beside him.
"Nothing. It's notthat," he whispered thickly at last. "It's just.... I've
never been so happy, Ray," he said shakily. "I didn't know ... it was
possible." A single, crystalline tear overflowed his brimming eyes.  

Ray smiled, deeply touched. He was relieved they were happy tears, that he
hadn't screwed up. What's more, he understood them. Ben was special to
him, too. Not even Stella had ever done to him what he did. The way he'd
loved her was justdifferent. She'd never needed him the way he felt Ben
did. Benny was unique, he reached into places in his heart that even
Stella never had. His sweetness made him happier than he could ever say.  

He took Ben's tear on his finger and wiped it away with gentle hands. Then
he reached out and pulled him up beside him. Ben laid his dark head down
onto his shoulder again, and Ray slipped his arms around him. "You deserve
it," he said at last, when he could talk again. He caressed his shoulder
gently as he spoke, just wanting to touch him. "Ya make me happy too. And
I'm gonna keep ya happy. Ya got that? I love you. An' that's my mission in
life now. Keepin' you happy." 

Ben kissed the crook of his neck and shoulder. "That's easy," he said
after a moment, trailing a finger over his chest. "Just don't leave me
again, Ray," he whispered. "Please don't." 

Ray closed his eyes. The words cut through him. It filled him with
embarrassment and pain, that Ben could even think he would ever do that
again. Ever be that incredibly blind and stupid, ever again. *That'd be
like cuttin' my own throat,* he thought. *It'd kill me.*  

But he couldn't say that. All he said was, "I won't, Benny Ben. I promise.
I promise ya that." 

That seemed to be enough. Ben sighed happily in his ear, and Ray held him
close, wanting to feel the strong, steady rhythm of his heart. 

They fell asleep that way. 

**************************************************************************
*********  

When Fraser woke again some time later, he still lay in Ray's arms, with
his head on his chest. He couldn't see his face, so he raised his head
silently to see if Ray was awake. One of Kowalski's blue eyes opened
slowly, as if he felt Ben watching him. Then the other, and Ben was
treated to the sight of his lover looking blissful. Smiling a slow, sweet,
very satisfied smile. "Hey, lover," Ray said softly. 

Ben's heart contracted as a warm flood of happiness washed over him. He
wondered if Ray could have any idea what such things meant to him. He'd
been lonely for so long.... He knew he'd never get tired of having Ray
call him that, or of seeing him smile that way, contented and happy,
because of him. Ray's happiness made him happy, fed back into his own
contentment, which he then gave back to Ray in an endless loop. *No
wonder,* Ben thought, *the circle is a powerful symbol for so many
cultures throughout the world: that's what love is. Endless, beautiful,
unbroken, giving and taking, yin and yang....* 

But he kept his philosophical insight to himself, and just smiled back at
his partner. "Hello, Ray," he said. "Are you hungry?" he asked, realizing
with a guilty start that it had been hours since Ray had eaten. He'd had
nothing but a little cereal in the hospital that morning, before they
left. But Kowalski shook his head.  

"Naw. Not for food, anyway." And the wicked grin that spread across his
face left Ben in no doubt as to his meaning. 

Ben would've insisted that he eat something, but he knew that Ray didn't
eat much. He never had. He seemed to exist on a diet of rivers of coffee,
broken only by the occasional sandwich or pizza. So Ben resolved to let a
few more hours go by before pressing food on him. And as Ray's blue eyes
smiled up at him, he found his own thoughts turning from food back to
desire. Taking Ray like that had been incredible. Just remembering it made
him want to make love to him again. The realization made him blush. He
didn't even know if Ray would ever want to do that again. He'd taken him
hard. Not as hard as he could havehe'd retained just enough control not to
slam into him roughlybut Ray had still urged him into thrusting far more
forcefully than he'd meant to. It had been glorious for him, but he wasn't
sure how it had been for Kowalski.  

It embarrassed him that he'd been so lost in his own pleasure that he
hadn't even thought to ask him. He lowered his eyes again. "Are youall
right, Ray? I mean.... I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, half afraid he
might've cracked his mending ribs in his fervor. 

"Naw. I'm fine." Ray's reply was immediate, and casual, and it took a
weight off of Ben's shoulders.	

"Good. I'm glad." 

Ray pulled his head down and kissed him warmly. "'Izzat what ya thought
all that screamin' was about?" he smiled, his voice husky-drowsy with
sleep and satisfaction. 

Ben shrugged. "I wasn't sure. Your ribs--" 

Ray snorted softly. "They're fine. I'm not made o' glass, ya know. Not
gonna break on ya." 

"It's just that your injuries are so recent--" 

"Don't worry about 'em," Ray said firmly. "Toldja, I'm not into pain. So
if ya do somethin' I don't like, I'll let ya know. Got it?" 

Ben smiled, feeling a bit silly that Ray had had to tell him to stop
babying him. He'd just gotten so used to doing that lately, it was hard to
get out of the habit, even when they were intimate like this. "Yes, Ray." 


Kowalski's grin widened, and he lifted an eyebrow. "Or are ya fishin' for
compliments? Huh?" 

Ben shook his head instantly. "No!" he protested, embarrassed. "I would
never" 

Kowalski just laughed. "I know. But I'll give ya one anyway. Ya were
wonderful. Fan--fucking--tastic, Benny Ben!" 

Fraser ducked his head, feeling a red flush creeping up his neck. He'd
never been comfortable talking about sex, but Ray was totally at ease with
it. He envied him that, and he was also very gratified to know that Ray
had enjoyed the experience as much as he had. He struggled to find the
right words to return the compliment, and finally settled for, "So were
you, Ray."  

It seemed to be enough. Kowalski leered at him playfully. "Thanks. I loved
it. Wanna do it again?" 

Excitement flared in Ben for a secondbut then he noticed that Kowalski's
blue eyes still looked a trifle heavy-lidded. A bit sleepy. And he
realized that all their exertions in the past few hours must've worn him
out. His body still needed to devote a lot of energy to healing itself,
but Ray had just diverted a lot of that into repeated sessions of
lovemaking.  

Fraser felt very guilty, and he pushed away his desire to take Ray again,
knowing that it was selfish. "Yes, but I'm a bit tired," he lied. "Would
you mind if we got a little more sleep first?" he asked. 

Ray shook his head. "Naw. Guess I wore ya out, huh?" He grinned suddenly,
lifted his arms above his head and stretched, looking like nothing so much
as a lean, contented cat. 

Ben raised an amused eyebrow. "*Now* who's fishing for compliments?" he
asked. 

Ray burst out laughing. Ben leaned over to kiss him, then pulled away,
intending to lay by his side while they slept. But Ray reached for him
again. "Hey! Come mere, you" 

Ben pretended to resist, and they tussled for a moment. In the end, a
laughing, breathless Ray ended up on top of him. "'Kay," he grinned,
panting a little. "This is good. Now yer my prisoner, so I guess you'll
just have to stay right here till I go to sleep." He slipped his arms
around Ben, settling his body more firmly over him. 

Ben rolled his eyes. "Oh no. A fate worse than death," he intoned. "I
don't know if I can stand it" 

Ray grinned. "Oh, shut up. Ya love it, ya know ya do." 

And Ben did. He had never had anyone like Ray in his life, someone he
could laugh and tease with so freely. Someone who gave him total freedom
in bed as well, who asked him what he wanted and who seemed to love
everything he did. Kowalski was a marvel to him. So when the blond
detective dropped his chin down onto Ben's chest, smiling at him, Ben
smiled back. "Perhaps," he allowed. 

Ray turned his head so that his cheek lay on Ben's chest. "No. No perhaps.
No maybe," he said firmly. "Said ya love me, and Mounties don't lie, do
they?" 

Ben's breath caught in his throat, and he reached to stroke Ray's hair,
very gently indeed. "No," he said softly. 

"'Kay then." Ray sounded satisfied.  

*No, more than satisfied. He sounds happy,* Ben thought. And knowing it
was because of him was the best part of that knowledge.  

"Sweet dreams, Benny Ben." 

"You too, Ray," he answered.  

But as he lay stroking Kowalski's hair, and Ray's breathing began to slow
and deepen, Ben found himself growing troubled again. His thoughts turned
to Rylan, as they so often did. He couldn't help wondering when Ray was
going to be honest with him about it, when he was going to tell him about
their affair. Why he hadn't trusted him enough to do so before now.
Because he hadn't, that name still lay like a lead weight on his heart. It
was the one of the few things about Ray that still frightened him. He
reached out and traced Ray's tattoo gently with one finger, then said,
"Ray, can I ask you a question?" 

Ray moved his own hand gently on Ben's hip, caressing him lightly. Eyes
closed, he murmured, "Sure." 

But Fraser felt guilty. Ray was tired, and drifting towards sleep already.
His body was relaxed, and his emotions so open and unguarded after their
lovemaking, that he probably would've agreed to anything at that moment.
He'd given him permission to ask a question without knowing what the
nature of that question would behow personal it was. That gave Ben a pang,
but the matter had been weighing so heavily on him for so long that he
suddenly felt he couldn't stand not knowing for one more moment. Even his
knowledge of Ray's weariness couldn't hold back his long suppressed
jealousy any more. 

Still, his mouth went dry with fear as he said, "You and Patrick Rylan.
Were you--that is, was he your lover?"	

Ray tensed instantly, as Fraser had suspected that he would. For a long,
awkward moment, he didn't answer; but his wary stillness was a kind of
answer in itself. Then at last, just when Ben was beginning to fear he
wasn't going to say anything, he grated, "He's dead. Pat's dead, okay?
Just let it go." 

Fraser closed his eyes. The words were a warning, and he knew it, but he
couldn't heed it. Despite the anguish and guilt he heard in Ray's voice,
and though he knew he was tired, he couldn't back away from this. Hurtful
or not, it was too important. Though he was already convinced they'd been
lovers, he still needed to know how deep their involvement had been. He
desperately needed to know if Ray had really loved Rylan. If Ray's renewed
involvement with him was perhaps just a way of getting over his grief, or
if there was a chance Ray really did love him now, as he'd just claimed he
did. 

A short while ago, with Ray groaning out his passion in his arms, and
Fraser's own desire at peak intensity, Kowalski's declaration of love had
been easy to believe. He still wanted to believe it. He knew how honest
Ray wasit wouldn't be like him to lie. Especially not about something so
important.  

But doubts had crept into his mind nonetheless. He had heard that men
often said things during sex that they didn't really mean. Carried away by
the heat of the moment, they'd make impassioned declarations just to
please their partners, and to obtain release. He was afraid he might've
unwittingly maneuvered Ray into that. After all, frightened by his affair
with Rylan, he'd kept after him, asked him repeatedly to say that he was
his, until Ray might've been so aroused he was desperateuntil he would've
said just about anything to get the physical release he craved. Under
those circumstances, how could he know if Ray had told him the truth?  

Fraser searched his mind for the right words to use, the correct way to
approach him on this touchy subject. "Ray.... You remember how you were
jealous of Ray Vecchio? How you thought we were lovers?" 

"Yeah." Ray's voice was gentler, almost sheepish.  

"Do you remember how that felt?" Ben asked quietly. 

There was another silence, then suddenly Ray lifted his head and stared
into Ben's eyes, a little frown furrowing his brow. "Izzat what this is
about?" he breathed. "Yer still jealous o' Pat?" 

*Still?* Fraser dropped his gaze, embarrassed. He wasn't sure what Ray
meant by the wordif he was surprised that he was still jealous of Rylan
now that they'd made love, or if he'd known for some time that he had dark
feelings about his former partner. Either way, he couldn't deny it. "Yes.
I'm afraid so," he admitted quietly. "I know it's not right. It is, in
fact, reprehensible on my part. Your relationship with him is probably
none of my business, but" 

"No!" Ray interrupted. "No, ya got a right to ask," he said. "Ya do." 

That gave Fraser a little glow. It was good to hear Ray say he had some
kind of claim on him, some right to be concerned about what he did. 

"And yer right. We were sleepin' together," he said heavily. "But how the
hell did you find out about it, anyway?"  

Ben shifted uncomfortably beneath him, trying to decide how to answer.
Whether it would be better to confess that he'd heard rumors or admit that
he'd noticed Ray's bruises. Finally, he decided to come clean about all of
it. After all, it was things left unspoken between them that had caused
their disastrous breakup in the first place. He wanted things to be better
for them this time around, and he knew that he couldn't expect Ray to be
the only one to change in order to accomplish that. He had to change too.
Hard though it was for him, he had to be more open and honest with Ray
about his feelings. "I heard ... rumors that Rylan was bisexual," he said
awkwardly. "That he was ... sadistic. And when you were in the hospital, I
noticed the marks on your wrists" 

Ray pulled away from him suddenly. Sat up and moved to the edge of the
bed. He ran a hand through his blond hair, every line in his slender body
taut with tension. Ben's heart sank. He'd wanted to be open and honest,
but judging by Ray's reaction, he must've bungled it, and bungled it
badly. He'd never been any good at talking about emotional things, it was
probably idiotic of him to bring this up so soon.... He should've just let
him sleep. Ray was probably furious with him now. 

But after an awkward moment, Kowalski just sighed. "Thought ya might've.
But why didn't ya say somethin' before?" Before Ben could answer that, Ray
waved a hand impatiently. "Never mind. Guess I shoulda' told ya." He
shrugged uncomfortably. "It's justit was freaky, ya know? So I ... didn't
want ya to know about it," he confessed at last. To Fraser's surprise, he
didn't sound angry. He sounded guiltyeven ashamed.  

It wasn't at all the reaction Fraser had expected, and he had no idea what
it meant. "I'm not sure I understand, Ray." 

Ray sighed. "I'm not surprised. Didn't understand it myself. Not until
after Pat died. Not until I saw you again." 

Fraser frowned in confusion. "Me? What do you mean?"  

Ray ran a hand through his hair again, his fingers unsteady. "It took me
awhile to figure the whole thing out. Me and him. Didn't really start to
until I saw you in the hospital. Until after he died...." His voice
trailed off for a minute, his eyes clouding over as they always did when
Rylan's death was mentioned. For a moment, Ben was afraid he wouldn't say
anything more.	

But then he shook himself a little and went on. "Before that I was justI
dunno what. Not gettin' anywhere. Tried to throw myself into my work, and
Rylan and me, we racked up some busts, but ... I still didn't feel good.
Never felt good unless I was bustin' heads, and that's not bein' a good
cop. And outside o' that, it was worse. I couldn't make decisions, I was
just" 

"Drifting?" Ben cut in, remembering a warning his father had given him one
night in a dream, while he and Ray were apart. Wishing more than ever that
he'd had the sense to heed it.	

"Yeah," Ray nodded, his face shadowed. "Driftin'. Things got a little
crazy." He shot a nervous glance at Ben, then looked away again. "Rylan
was kinda' kinky. But then you already guessed that," he said in a low
voice. "He got off on bein' rough. On pain." 

Ben bit back his anger, and confined himself to a mere, "I see." 

But some of the revulsion that he also felt must've showed, because Ray
shook his head. "No, ya don't. He was seriously screwed up, I know. But it
wasn't all his fault," he said slowly. "His mom died when he was a baby,
and his old man beat him, cuffed him and raped him from the time he was
little. And he never had any friends growin' up, cuz he didn't want anyone
to find out what his dad was doin' to him.... He had nobody to stick up
for him, his whole life. Nobody who cared. So he didn't know anythin'
else, anythin' better I mean." 

"I'm sorry," Ben said. And for the first time since he'd guessed that
Rylan had been Ray's lover, he was genuinely sorry for the man. He'd never
guessed at his horrific background, had never even bothered to wonder what
might've twisted a man into what Pat Rylan was rumored to be; and he
suddenly realized that his lack of curiosity had been deliberate, and
self-serving. He hadn't *wanted* to understand Rylan. He'd just wanted to
dislike him because he'd been his rival for Ray's loveand knowing he was a
sadist had made that easy. He was ashamed of his unfairness.  

"Yeah," Ray said quietly. Ben saw pain etched clearly on his face. "I'm
sorry too. Cuz Pat ... he wasn't all bad, ya know? He was smart, and he
was a good cop. And he looked up to me. Almost like ... like he was my
little brother or somethin'. Right from the first. I think that's why I
stuck with him. I think maybe, after we broke up.... I dunno, maybe I
needed that." 

Ray turned away from him, as if he couldn't meet his eyes after admitting
that. Fraser winced a little, not comforted by the thought that Ray had
been devastated by their separation, too. Yet he understood what he was
saying about Rylan's admiration for him. He'd often felt the same kind of
admiration from Ray himself. He'd felt proud knowing that in some ways,
Kowalski looked up to him. Ben knew the appeal of such approbation from a
fellow officer, and knew it would be doubly seductive to someone whose ego
had been badly hurt, as Ray's had been by his imagined desertion of him
for Ray Vecchio.  

"I see," he said quietly. "It's all right, Ray." 

Ray shook his head again. "No! No, it isn't. There's more to it, stuff I
haven't told you...." He got up off the bed and began to pace, avoiding
Fraser's eyes. "I didn't start it, though. Us havin' sex, I mean. I want
ya to know that. It was Pat's idea, not mine." 

Fraser felt a secret surge of satisfaction at that news, but he hid it,
knowing he was being petty. Knowing, too, that Ray wasn't finished yet. He
was afraid to exult too soon, afraid to get cocky only to find that Ray
had ended up falling in love with Rylan after all. 

"Still.... I let him do it. I'm not tryin' to say it was all his fault. It
wasn't. I coulda said no, and I didn't. But it was weird ... I didn't like
it," Ray confessed in a low voice. "What he did, how he-- touched me. He
was so rough, havin' sex with him was like bein' run over by a steam
roller. Most o' the time, I never even came. I couldn't." 

Fraser closed his eyes for a second. He was both embarrassed at hearing
such intimate details about Ray's sex life, and deeply relieved, at the
same time. Now that he knew the truth, it dispelled his two worst fears.
First, that Ray was sadistic. It was clear that he wasn't, that he hadn't
liked the things Rylan had done to him in bed. There was no doubt of that.
Ben had been listening very hard to his confession, and the distaste, the
embarrassment in his voice when he spoke of them had been deep and
genuine. He was selfishly glad of it. Now he could stop worrying that Ray
would ever try to hurt him, or ask to be hurt, when they were together.
Despite his affair with Rylan, Ray hadn't changed.  

Last, but certainly not least, since Ray hadn't enjoyed Rylan's touch, it
seemed obvious that he couldn't have been in love with him, either. Ben
was too ashamed to admit it, but he'd worried that Ray's declaration of
love for him was suspect not only because of its timing, but because of
Ray's intense grief over Rylan's death. That had frightened him into
thinking Ray was mourning a lost love, not just his partner; and that he
might become obsessed with his memory, as he had once been with
Victoria's.  

He wasn't worried about that anymore. Ray had said that he loved him only
him and now, he finally believed it. At last, Rylan's shadow lifted off of
Fraser's heart. 

But all at once, he realized that Ray's confession raised another
question. He frowned. "Then why did you do it, Ray?" The words slipped out
before he could stop them. 

Ray winced visibly. "Dunno," he said uncomfortably. "I know I
shouldn't've. Shoulda' stopped it, I know. I tried, but I just couldn't,"
he said hoarsely. "It was like--he needed me, and he was my partner. And
he was so young.... Kinda' felt responsible for him, I guess. Like I owed
it to him or somethin'. Didn't want our partnership to fail, like ours
did. And he wanted me so much---even though I didn't want him, I think I
needed that. Needed the strokes. For somebody to want me. Or maybe" He
trailed off suddenly. Shook his head. Avoided Fraser's eyes. 

"Maybe what, Ray?" Ben asked gently. 

"Well, this may sound crazy, but.... Sometimes I think I stuck with him to
punish myself," he confessed hoarsely. 

Ben blinked, stunned. 

"Didn't know it at the time," Ray went on haltingly. "But I thought about
it after he died. When I saw you again, I knew I never even really wanted
him. So I wondered why I let him do what he did to me. And I thinkafter I
left you, I started to feel like I'd been unfair, ya know? Like I
shouldn't've just walked out without tellin' ya what was wrong. What I
thought ya did. So maybe bein' with him was a way to get back at myself.
Felt like I didn't deserve anythin' better, after what I did to you."  

Ben felt so guilty that he couldn't say anything. He'd suspected that Ray
had fallen into a relationship with Rylan out of sheer loneliness, for
which he was partly to blame. But he'd never expected to hear him say that
he'd neither wanted to have sex with Rylan, nor enjoyed it. Knowing that
his actions had driven Ray to something worse than a casual affair--to
degrading, unfulfilling sex with a sadist not just to ease his loneliness,
but as a kind of self punishmentshocked and hurt him.  

Ray rolled his shoulders, as if trying to relieve intolerable tension.
"Umm.... That probly sounds crazy to you, huh?" he ventured. "Maybe it is.
Maybe I'm nuts. Perverted. I dunno...." 

Ray sounded increasingly desperate, and Ben knew his silence was
contributing to that. If it was hard for him to hear these things, it
must've been even harder for Ray to admit to them. And now Ray was worried
that he was being judged for them, that he thought he was abnormal.
Twisted. But the truth was, Ben was ashamed of himself. Of his own part in
causing Ray to do such things, not of Ray. So he forced down his feelings
of shock and guilt at Ray's intimate revelations, and got to his feet.
Went over to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. "No, Ray," he said
quietly. "You're not crazy. Nor are you perverted. I think you were just
lonely, and confused. And for that, I'm sorry." 

Ray turned wide, surprised eyes on him. "Sorry? You? For what? It's not
yer fault" 

Fraser hung his head. "In a way, I think it is." 

"That's nuts," Ray protested. 

Fraser forced himself to look up and meet Ray's eyes again. "Is it? I
never came after you, Ray. Never tried to set things right. I could have,
but I didn't. So the fact that you turned to someone else.... Well, it's
partly my fault." 

Ray shook his head. "No it isn't! I don't blame ya for not comin' after
me. Didn't expect ya to. Hell, I broke up with ya! Shoved ya, in front o'
everybody" 

Fraser sighed, looking down at his feet. "I remember. And I think that's
what really held me back. I wanted to contact you again. I picked up the
phone a hundred times, even wrote you a letter once.... But I tore it up,
because I kept remembering that: how humiliated I felt when you pushed me,
and kicked my hat. It kept me from reaching out to you again like I should
have." He raised his eyes to his lover's finally, and looked straight at
him. "I let pride hold me back," he confessed, baring his own soul, his
failings, as Ray had just bared his. "I shouldn't have just let you go
like I did. I should've made you tell me why you were so upset. I
should've found a way to make you talk to me, to make you tell me what was
wrong. But I didn't, and I'm sorry." 

**************************************************************************
********* 

Ray stared at Fraser. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Fraser had
always been like this, had always been willing to shoulder the blame for
everything, but this was too much. After he'd cut him loose on mere
unfounded suspicions that weren't even true, after he'd hurt and
humiliated him in front of a whole squadroom full of cops, then taken
another lover just weeks later, Fraser was trying to say it was all his
fault!	

Ray shook his head. Put his hands on Fraser's shoulders and looked deep
into his eyes. "Listen," he said. "If this whole mess is anybody's fault,
it's mine. I got crazy, I threw you out over somethin' that never even
happenedI acted like a total jerk. So I don't wanna hear you say this is
all yer fault anymore. Okay?" 

"But Ray, I" 

Ray smiled. "No buts, Ben." He leaned forward and kissed him. Wrapped his
arms around him and kissed him for a long time, until he felt the Mountie
relax and lean into him. Until he felt him forget all about guilt, and
remember how good this felt: the two of them together, the way it should
be. Then he finally ended the kiss, and leaned his forehead against Ben's,
still hugging him. "Let's just say we both acted like jerks, then, and let
it go at that, okay?" he asked softly. "We both made mistakes, and we're
both sorry.... But it's done now. I just want us to get past it. Can we do
that?" 

Ray almost held his breath. Suddenly, he wasn't sure that hugging Ben at
such a moment was the right thing to do. Towards the end of their
marriage, Stella had hated it when he did this; when he tried to hold her
close, to show affection in order to end an argument or settle a
disagreement. She'd accused him of trying to sweet talk her, instead of
dealing with the 'issues'. Still, he'd fallen back into the old habit
unconsciously with Ben, and once his arms were around him, he didn't want
to pull away. So he stood there holding him, waiting to see how he'd
react. 

Luckily, Fraser didn't seem to have an 'issue' with hugging him. Judging
by the way he was stroking his back and holding onto him, he seemed to
like it. He seemed to be enjoying the embrace itself, as much as setting
things straight about Rylan and their breakup. It suddenly struck Ray that
Ben seemed to enjoy touching of all kindsnot just sexual, but the
affectionate kind too--to an amazing degree, considering his shyness. More
than Stella ever had. 

*Maybe he never got much of it,* he reflected. *Haveta make that up to
him.* He smiled to himself. *Jeez, what a chore! Havin' to touch Benny Ben
a lot. Poor me.* He felt lucky, even privileged, to be the one to shower
Ben with affection.  

"I want to get past it," Ben whispered. "It's forgotten, Ray." 

Ray smiled. "Me too." 

Ben turned his head, and kissed Ray's cheek gently. "I love you, Ray," he
confessed, in that sweet, shy voice that he only used when he was
revealing his deepest feelings. 

Ray pulled him even closer and held him tightly, the way he'd dreamed of
doing on all those lonely nights without him. Not even caring that it hurt
his ribs. Thinking what an incredible gift his big, beautiful,
affectionate, and best of all, *romantic* Mountie was. Wondering what the
hell he'd ever done that was good enough to deserve him. "Love you too,
Benny Ben," he whispered back, his eyes bright. "Swear to God I do." He
pressed a kiss into the side of his neck, to seal the vow. 

And Ben hugged him back. 

**************************************************************************
********* 

They slept for awhile after that. When they woke again, they took another
shower. Afterwards, Fraser put his pants back on. When he checked his
watch, he saw with a faint sense of surprise that it was 10:30 p.m. "You
should have something to eat," he told Ray, remembering that his lover
hadn't eaten all day. 

Kowalski shrugged, typically indifferent to the idea of food. "Okay." 

Ben made Ray put his rib brace back on, and a robe too. As they went to
the kitchen, Ben reflected that the food and the brace were for Ray's
benefit, but the robe was for his. He wanted Kowalski to take a break from
lovemaking long enough to eat, and he wasn't all that sure of his own self
control if Ray lounged around naked in front of him while he did that. He
also suspected that Ray probably wouldn't sit still long enough for him to
cook anything elaborate, so he just made him some chicken soup and a
sandwich.  

He heated the soup and carried it and the sandwich to Ray's table. "Would
you like some milk with that?" he asked, knowing that Frannie had left
some in his refrigerator for him.  

But Kowalski made a face at the suggestion. Shook his head. "Rather have a
beer, thanks." 

"Milk would be better for you," Ben said automatically. "The calcium would
aid the rebuilding of your ribs" 

"Thank you, Mr. Milk Advisory Board," Ray cut in wryly. He rose and
stubbornly headed for the refrigerator himself. "But I'm havin' beer.
Milk! Yecch! That's for little kids." 

Ben decided not to remind Ray of the fact that he often drank milk
himself, and didn't consider himself a child. He didn't want to argue over
something so trivial.  

But to his surprise, Ray seemed to remember his preference for milk
without being prompted. Once he had a bottle of beer in his hand, he
turned and shot him a glance, scratched at his neck a bit nervously.  

"Ummm ... not that ya *have* to be a kid to drink it," he said hastily. "I
mean ... some guys do. Drink milk, I mean. Well, not most guys, but--" 

Fraser's eyebrow rose. It was rare that Ray ever got so embarrassed that
he babbled; and highly entertaining, too. He just watched him, vastly
amused. 

"But some guys do," Ray repeated. "And that's okay." Then he stopped,
suddenly realizing that he was being teased. He made a face at Ben as he
headed back to the table with his beer. "Lookwhat I'm tryin' to say is,
I'm not hungry, but I'll eat the soup and stuff. I just draw the line at
milk. Okay?" 

Ben nodded. He hadn't realized that Ray was just eating to indulge him,
and the knowledge warmed him inside. Made his refusal to drink milk
inconsequential. Ray was trying to get along with him, was trying to
please him. Trying harder than he ever had in the past. "Yes. Okay, Ray,"
he said. 

Ray sat down beside him with a happy little smile. Ben echoed it. He
couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so blissful, just being with
someone. The emotion had nothing to do with lust. It was a quieter,
warmer, deeper kind of feeling. *It's love,* he thought, with a sense of
wonder. *This is what real love feels like: being happy just to be in your
lover's presence. This is what being in a relationship feels like.*  

It was a revelation to him. He and Victoria had never had this. With her,
there hadn't been time for moments like this. There hadn't been time for
much more than frantic sex and devastating goodbyes. So as he watched Ray
eat the food he'd prepared, Ben let the new, sweet pleasure of a quiet
little domestic moment fill his heart.	

He'd never known love could have so many nuances; so many dimensions. But
he was grateful for all of them. Despite what his Dad had said, he'd been
given a second chance at love after all, and he was determined, this time,
to make it work. He felt that Ray was, too. His willingness to eat to
please him might've seemed a small and insignificant thing to another man,
but Fraser knew it came from love. They were learning to compromise; about
little things, anyway. It was a promising start. Maybe this time, they
would stay together. He devoutly hoped so.  

"How's the soup, Ray?" he asked gently. 

With the spoon halfway to his mouth, Ray paused and smiled at him. For no
reason at all. Or like he knew what he was really saying, and was saying
it back to him. "Good, Frayzh. Terrific," he grinned, his blue eyes lit
from within. 

*Yes,* Ben thought. *It's a very good start.* 

**************************************************************************
****** 

Ray chewed his sandwich slowly. Normally, he would've just crammed it in
his mouth and wolfed it down, but not now. He didn't want to spill crumbs
all over the place now. Didn't want to look like a pig, because Ben was
watching him. *Doin' his Mountie Mother Hen thing again.* Not that he
minded. He didn't even mind having to eat neat, because it touched him,
how Ben always worried about him. Looked after him. No one had done that
for him since Stella left. He hadn't even realized how much he'd missed
it. But it gave him a little glow, just sitting there chowing down with
Ben's blue eyes on him.  

He felt himself smiling for no reason. Saw Ben doing it too. *Couple o'
lovestruck fools,* he thought, and smiled again, without knowing it. 

Ben's kindness didn't stop with making sure he got enough to eat, either.
To his enormous surprise and relief, he'd listened to his tale of his
weird affair with Pat Rylan without freaking out or getting mad at him.
Ray was still trying to absorb that. He'd been so afraid of telling Ben
about Rylan for so long, it was still hard to believe that he'd let him
off the hook for it. He'd been terrified that Ben would kick his ass out
the door as some kinda wacko pervert if he ever found out. But despite his
obvious distaste for Pat's sadism, he hadn't reacted badly. He'd been
totally understanding about the whole mess. Hell, he'd even tried to take
the blame for it, though he'd managed to set him straight on that dumb
idea. 

Ray felt he owed Ben big time, for his forgiveness. But he hadn't repaid
him for it very well. He still hadn't been entirely honest with him about
Rylan, and as Ben sat beside him contentedly watching him eat, it started
to bug him again. He frowned down at his sandwich. He still hadn't told
him all of it. Not knowing what Ben's reaction to his twisted tale would
be, he'd held the worst of it back. Hadn't said anything about Pat's rape
attempt, or his suspicion that Pat's guilt about it might've had
somethingmaybe everything--to do with his death. How he might've thrown
himself in front of those two goons' guns because of itor else because he
loved him that much. He hadn't told Ben that he felt responsible for Pat's
murder/suicide, whichever it was. Since their heated argument in the car
earlier, he'd pushed the tragedy out of his head. Promised himself he
wouldn't even think about it until he got things straightened out with
Ben.  

But now they were. Ben was his; he was Ben's. Ben had said so. They both
had. Despite his confession that he'd had an affair with Pat in the
meantime, against all odds, Ben had forgiven him; and now they were both
back where they belonged. Together again. And the feeling between themthe
love, the passion, the level of trustwas even deeper and stronger than it
had been four months ago, when the whole thing started. Ray was happy,
happier than he'd been in years. On Cloud Nine. Floating.  

But Rylan wasn't. He was six feet under, in the cold, cold ground. Now
that his name had come up again, Ray's guilt came rushing back with a
vengeance. Dimming his euphoria. Making him feel like he didn't deserve
it. Like maybe he didn't deserve Ben. Not after the way he'd messed up
with Pat. Not when he might be responsible for his own partner's death. 

*I gotta tell him.* 

He sipped his beer moodily, avoiding Ben's eyes. He wanted to tell him.
Didn't want to keep secrets from him, not any more. But he was afraid.
Sure, Ben had forgiven him so far, but who knew what his limits were? What
if telling him about Pat's rape attempt turned out to be the straw that
broke the Mountie's back? How could he risk that now? How the hell would
he even say it? "Guess what, Frayzh? Not that it matters, but I think
Rylan mighta killed himself cuz he loved me. Oh, yeahand did I ever
mention that he tried to rape me, too?" 

Ray groaned to himself, just thinking about it. He knew he should tell the
truth, but he wasn't sure what it would do to Ben. After all, he'd
admitted that he was jealous of Pat anyway. And judging from the way he'd
acted when they were making love, from the way he'd washed him off and the
number of times he'd made him promise that he was his now, Ben hadn't been
just a little jealous, he'd been jealous as hell. Which was flattering,
but scary too. If Ben hadn't figured their affair out on his own, and
asked about it, Ray wasn't sure he'd've ever had the guts to tell him. He
was too afraid of losing him. 

And if he told him now that Pat had been madly in love with him, that
might bring back the green-eyed monster with a vengeance. Might freak Ben
out all over again. Might even make him leave. *He might think I was lyin'
when I said I love him,* Ray reflected uneasily. He sure as hell didn't
want that to happen. Ben was the only person other than Stella who he'd
ever said those words to. They weren't easy for him to say -- and he'd
only just made Ben believe them. He didn't want to fuck that up now. So he
kept silent. 

Ben frowned a little, watching him, as if he knew something was on his
mind. Ray pushed the bowl of soup away. He'd finished the sandwich, but
only half finished the soup. Thinking about Rylan had killed his appetite.
"Thanks, Ben. That was good," he said. "But I'm done. Full. Can't eat
another bite."	

Ben smiled, as if that simple statement had made his day. It never failed
to amaze Ray, how little he had to do to make him happy. Another man
might've taken Ben for granted because of it, but to Ray, he seemed little
short of miraculous. Except for the first few years they were married,
he'd never been able to do enough to satisfy Stella. But with Ben, all he
had to do sometimes was smile, and wham! The Mountie lit up like a kid at
Christmas.  

*How the hell did I ever get so lucky?* 

But Ray had learned the hard way that luck and love didn't always last.
Even if people said they loved you, if you did or said the wrong thing,
they might leave you. Which only made the thought of telling Ben the whole
truth about Rylan's death that much harder. "Mind if we go back to bed?"
he asked instead, knowing he could forget his guilt if Ben touched him
again. He always forgot about everything else, when he was in his arms. 

But literal-minded Ben didn't catch his drift. 

"Certainly," he said promptly. "I know you must be tired." Ben leaned over
and picked up his soup bowl, and carried it to the sink to empty it out. 

Ray shook his head, watching him, admiring the way his muscles bunched and
played as he moved. *Wow. Amazing, that anyone so beautiful can be so
innocent. So naïve. Amazing how fuckin' sexy that can be, too.*  

"I didn't mean to sleep," he said, grinning at the Mountie suggestively. 

Blue eyes flew to his. "Hmm?" Ben asked. Then his eyes widened with sudden
comprehension, "Oh. Ahh. I see," he added, blushing. 

That little blush was all Ray needed. In a flash, he forgot all about
Rylan. Forgot about everything else but Ben. He was in heaven. He'd
forgotten how it felt to love someone so much. He waited until Ben dumped
his dirty dishes in the sink, then he grabbed his wrist impatiently. "Come
on. Time for some more o' that 'Ahh' stuff," he grinned, pulling the
Canadian towards his bedroom. 

Ben didn't resist. 

They made love again. Not in the heated rush that they had before, but
slowly, tenderly, learning each other all over again after their long
separation. When it was over, Ray still couldn't let Ben go. He'd been
dreaming and fantasizing about Ben ever since he left him. Now he wanted
to live some of those fantasies. "Lie back, Benny Ben," he said softly.
"Close yer eyes. I just wanna touch you...." When Ben did, he started
kissing him, gently, endlessly, from head to toe. Worshipping him with his
mouth, as Ben had once done to him.  

Midway through his slow, rapt exploration of his body, Ben whispered
curiously, "What are you doing, Ray?" He sounded a bit surprised. 

Ray smiled to himself. *Oh, so nobody's ever done this to *you* before
either, huh?* he thought. *Cool. Nice to know I'm the first.* But aloud,
he just said simply, "Lovin' you." 

It must've been the right answer, because Ben closed his eyes with a happy
little sigh, and didn't say another word. 

Afterwards, they lay together in Ray's bed, quiet and vastly content. Ray
lay on top of Ben, idly tracing little circles around his nipple. He
grinned as he watched it harden at his touch. He couldn't get over how
responsive Fraser was, how his beautiful body always roused at his
caresses. It was like Christmas, like a gift he probably didn't deserve.
"Hey. Lookit that," he teased. "Whaddaya spose that means, huh?" 

"I don't know, Ray," the Mountie said, in his most innocent tone. "That
I'm cold, perhaps?" 

Ray snickered. "Try again..." 

"That you're insatiable, perhaps?"  

Ray laughed. "Now yer talkin'!" 

Ben laughed too, then he sobered. "You know, you really should rest, Ray.
I" 

Ray snorted. "I'm restin'! I'm in bed, aren't I?" 

"Well, yes, but" 

"I'm nice and warm and cozy, aren't I?" he asked with apparent innocence
as he reached down, found Ben's cock and began stroking it. 

Fraser caught his breath, shivering with pleasure. "Well, yes, but" 

"And I got a nice ... big ... warm ... Mountie for a pillow, don't I?" he
went on, moving his hips gently so that his cock thrust against Ben's. 

Ben moaned, and Ray caught that moan in a hungry kiss. When they finally
came up for air, Ben blinked helplessly. "What was the question again?" 

Ray grinned. "The only question is, how do you want me this time?" 

"Any way you want, Ray," Ben whispered happily. "Any way at all...." 

**************************************************************************
******** 

The next time Ben woke, it was sometime in the early morning, just after
dawn. He felt his nipple tingling, bent his head and saw that Ray was
kissing it. His blond hair silvery in the grayness, his lips tender, Ray
sucked gently at him, like a baby nursing at his mother's breast. Ben
raised a sleepy hand to touch his hair, and felt himself throbbing slowly.
He smiled at the realization that Ray could make him hard even in his
sleep. And despite his tiredness and the many times they'd already made
love, he found himself aching to do it again. He rolled slightly towards
Ray, and a tiny, instinctive sound came from his throat. A whimper of
pleasure. 

Ray raised his head and smiled. "Shhh. Go back to sleep," he whispered.  

"I thought you wanted" 

"Naw." Ray shook his head slightly. "Didn't mean to wake ya. Just can't
seem to stop kissin' you, Benny Ben," he confessed.  

And even in the dimness, Ben saw the flash of his lover's smile. *My
lover.* That thought was like a song in his mind, a high, pure note of
wonder. It still seemed impossible sometimes, like a dream, that he was in
Ray's bed. In his arms. That Ray had made love to him repeatedly, and
would again. That Ray loved him.... It moved him so much that he suddenly
felt obliged to make a confession of his own. 

"Ray," he began softly. "I ... well, I appreciate you beinghonest with me.
About Rylan, that is." 

Ray nodded, but his smile faded. A faintly troubled look shadowed his
eyes, and he looked away for a minute. "That's how it's sposed to be,
isn't it, Ben?" he asked slowly. "We can tell each other anything. Right?"


"Yes," he said. "Yes, that is how it should be." But he couldn't help
wondering why Ray suddenly looked so somber. He had an odd feeling,
suddenly, that there was something which Ray wasn't telling him. Still.
Something disturbing. But he pushed the feeling away. Ray had sworn that
he trusted him completely, had given himself to him without reserve.
Surely he knew, now, that he could be trusted with his secrets.  

He felt another, entirely different, pang as another thought struck him.
Perhaps that shadow on Ray's face had to do with him. Perhaps, having
given his heart, Ray was now upset because he'd guessed that he, Benton
Fraser, hadn't always been entirely honest with him.  

He'd tried to tell himself that he had. He'd even been self-righteously
angry when Ray had confessed in the hospital that he'd thought he'd
deceived him with Ray Vecchio, because he prided himself so on his own
honesty. But he'd realized since that he'd been guilty of false pride on
that score. Though honesty was extremely important to him, and though he
tried very hard never to lie, there'd been moments when he'd either
withheld information, from Ray and others, out of fearand times when he'd
actually lied. Despite his love for his spiky-haired friend, there were
still lots of things he hadn't told him, about matters large and small.
Victoria Metcalf, for one. A very large matter indeed. A shameful one,
that he still found it almost impossible to discuss. And about which he'd
once lied to Ray.  

Lying warm in Ray's arms as he was, that realization gave him a guilty
twinge. *Ray told me the truth about Patrick Rylan,* he thought. *Though
he must've been as hard for him to talk about as Victoria is for me.* And
he knew why Ray had done that: out of lovelove for him. Now he had to
return the gesture. Because if he and Ray were to be together, if they
were to truly love each other as both he and Ray wanted, he would have to
open himself as completely to the detective as Ray had to him. Honesty had
to be, as the Americans said, a two-way street. He had only recently
regained Ray's trust. He couldn't afford to lose it by continuing to hide
his shameful secrets out of cowardice. That had to stop. If he was
responsible for the shadow he'd glimpsed on Ray's face earlier, it was up
to him to remove it. 

Out of love.  

He had plenty of that. He was overflowing with it. So why was this still
so hard? He swallowed hard, sat up and took a deep breath. "There's
something I need to tell you, Ray." 

"Okay," the blond answered. Ray was very perceptive, and he looked
serious, as if he already knew, before he spoke, that what he had to say
was important. 

Ben felt himself choking up, as usual. Since words tended to fail him at
times like this, he decided to illustrate his point, instead of depending
strictly on verbal explanations. So he took Ray's hand in his, lifted it
to his mouth and kissed his fingers. "This," he said awkwardly.
"Thisgesture. Do you remember it?"  

Ray's eyes narrowed in puzzlement. 

Ben realized that he didn't know what he was referring to. Partly because
he hadn't exactly duplicated the caress he was thinking of, and partly
because it had been months since he'd done it, then lied to him about it.
He hadn't copied it exactly because it was so erotic, and he felt slightly
embarrassed doing something like that to Ray, when he was trying to be
serious. But Ray's confusion forced him to. So to further illustrate, he
pulled Ray's hand upwards and gently sucked three of his fingers into his
mouth. Closing his eyes for a moment, he lost himself in the caress as he
stroked them with his tongue. When he opened them again, he saw, to his
relief, that Ray understood him now.  

"Yeah," was all he said. "I remember you doin' that."  

But Fraser's words hadn't had the effect he'd wanted. Ray must've thought
them an erotic overture, because his eyes were darkening with desire. *Oh
dear.* It hadn't been Ben's intention to arouse his lover. Not now. There
were things he needed to say first. So he pressed another gentle kiss onto
Ray's fingers, and lowered them into his lap.  

"I never told you what that means," he said at last, choosing his words
carefully. Ray had questioned him about the meaning of that caress when
he'd first done it to him. But he hadn't been able to tell him, because it
was connected to Victoria. *That,* Ben thought with a flicker of shame,
*was one of the few times I ever lied to him.* He'd told Ray it didn't
mean anything, and almost immediately afterwards, Ray's mood had darkened.
He'd started snapping at him, and ended up yelling.  

Ben had begun to wonder if the two events were connected. If the
ever-so-perceptive detective had sensed that he was lying about that
touch, and if that deception had hurt him. Angered him so much that he'd
lashed out at him. A tiny, cowardly part of him hoped that Ray wouldn't
remember his lie. That the passage of time might've blurred the event, and
so softened his own culpability, at least in Ray's mind. After all, that
had been over four months ago-- 

But Ray's memory regarding the incident proved distressingly accurate. He
stiffened a little. "No. Actually, ya told me it didn't mean anything," he
corrected bluntly. 

Ben lowered his eyes. There was an edge in Ray's voice all at once, and he
couldn't blame him for it. But that, and the challenge in Ray's eyes when
he'd repeated the gesture last night, confirmed his suspicion that his lie
about it months before had hurt him. Perhaps Ray had done it to him again
in the hopes that he would finally be honest about it. Ben wanted to. Now
he wished that it hadn't taken him so long.  

He searched his mind for the right way to explain the gesture. What it
meant, and why he hadn't told him. "It did mean something, once," he
admitted reluctantly.  

Ray pulled his hand away. "What?" His earlier tenderness was fading, being
replaced by anger and what sounded like jealousy.  

Which wasn't surprising. Because if the caress had meaning for him, it had
obviously been found with someone else. Ray wasn't likely to enjoy that
realization, Ben thought, embarrassed. Finding it increasingly difficult
to meet his rapidly heating blue eyes, he dropped his gaze. Stared at the
blanket as he flushed, feeling intensely awkward and uncomfortable. He
didn't want to tell Ray about Victoria. Even though he knew it was vital,
that he had to, the memories were still so painful. They washed over him
vividly, as he sat staring helplessly at the blankets. Dark, bittersweet
visions. Snow falling on dark hair. Red, lush lips that kissed and then
betrayed. Memories of loveor what he'd thought was lovegone wrong.
Memories of blood, of tears, both his and hers. Memories of his near
madness in the wake of her loss. Those memories were painful enoughbut
having to recount them while being further lacerated by Ray's jealousy was
almost unbearable. 

Still, he had lost Victoria. He didn't want to lose Ray, so what choice
did he have? 

"I did that to Victoria Metcalf once," he said at last. "When we first
met. Toto keep her from getting frostbite, when we were lost in a storm.
She was dying," he added, "and I was trying to save her." Though that was
true as far as it went, he realized that he was still editing the tale.
Still trying to make himself sound better than he was. Nobler. More
altruistic.  

It shamed him into telling the unvarnished truth.  

"I also did it becauseI wanted her. Afterwards, after the storm ended,
Imade love to her, Ray," he whispered. "She was a fugitive. A criminal,
but Icouldn't help myself. I wasin love with her." He couldn't go on. He
twisted the blanket in his hand, stared fiercely at it as shame choked
him, and the drumming of his guilty heart beat loud in his own ears. 

Ray was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Okay. But why'd ya lie to me
about it?" 

Ben closed his eyes. As always when someone got this close to him, when he
let someone see so deeply into his dark side, into his faults, fear rose
in him. A kind of panic that beat at the edges of his self control. Made
him want to run. Though he longed to be honest with Ray, honesty had
trapped him in the past. After he'd made the mistake of letting himself
love Victoria, then turning her in, she had hated him. She'd put her
knowledge of him, of his sense of honor and duty, to destructive use, and
tried to ruin him. He knew Ray wouldn't do that, at least not knowingly;
but his power over him was even greater than Victoria's had been. Ray
could break him with a word, by merely withdrawing his affection. He knew
that now. And how could he be sure that Ray wouldn't hate him too, once he
knew how reprehensibly he had behaved with her? How could Ray possibly
love him, once he knew how deeply flawed he was? The evil things of which
he was capable? 

His fear made him flush even redder, because he knew his feelings about
this weren't normal. Normal people didn't dread someone else getting to
know them like he did, because normal people hadn't done the things he'd
done. Normal people wanted closenessthey craved it. He did too, but after
Victoria, it also petrified him.  

*Ray isn't the one who's twisted inside. I am,* he thought. Though he
wanted his love desperately, he wasn't sure that he deserved it. He was
also scared that Ray might end up hurting him again, if he trusted him
enough to let him into his heart. He couldn't believe that Ray would want
him if he let him see into his stained, sinful soul. That was why he'd
lied to him about that gesture after the first time they'd made love, why
he'd tried to make him think it was merely sexual, not personal. Not
connected to love. Because he hadn't dared, then, to tell him about
Victoria. Though love was sweet, he still couldn't forget how it had once
almost destroyed him. How could he be sure that Ray would forgive is
faults, when Victoria hadn't? 

"Back in the hospital," Ray reminded him quietly, "ya told me to tell ya
if ya screwed up. So tell me, Frayzh. Why'd ya lie about it?" 

Ray's question jolted Ben back to the present. Ray was absolutely right,
he *had* said that. Now, he vehemently wished he hadn't. He felt trapped
by his own words. Forced by his promise to voice his deepest, darkest
secrets, against his will. His fear grew, choking him. Ray's voice was
slightly gentler now, less harsh, as if he'd sensed his fear and was
trying not to make it worse. But he wasn't letting him off the hook,
either. Wasn't letting the matter go, though a tiny, cowardly part of Ben
devoutly wished that he would. Which meant that Ray realized the
importance of what he had done. That he didn't consider it a trifling
matter.  

Ben wasn't surprised. As Ray had pointed out, he didn't usually lie; and
Kowalski was far from stupid. The fact that he'd lied about something so
seemingly trivial as an erotic caress, implied that it was actually far
from trivial. That there must be strong emotions connected to it.
Naturally, Ray wanted to know what they were. 

*No, he deserves to know. He's my lover. I have to tell him the trutheven
if it costs me his love.* Ben told himself that, but he still couldn't
find the words to say it. Or the courage to bare his soul so completely.
Yet he knew he had to. He felt like a fish out of water, struggling inside
a net of his own making. Damned if he took a breath, damned if he
didn't.... His heart pounded, his mouth was dry, and he knew his face was
flaming. 

Suddenly, Ray reached for his hand again. Stroked it gently, almost
tentatively. "Hey," he said softly. "It can't be that hard. Told you all
about Rylan, didn't I? And how stupid I was about you and Vecchio? And ya
didn't let me have it. So I promise, I'm not gonna clock ya for lyin' to
me. Won't take yer head off. I just wanna know why, Ben. Why ya did it.
Cuz it's not like you." 

Ben felt a surge of despair. That was part of the problemRay didn't know
how like him it was. The depths to which he had sunk, in pursuit of the
love he'd wanted so desperately. He'd been careful to hide all of that
from him. He looked away, not knowing where to begin; and when he glanced
down at his watch, he realized that there wasn't time to tell him now. The
convoluted tale of his love for Victoria Metcalf would take hours to tell
properly, and it was almost seven a.m. He had to get up and go to work
soon.  

Yet he couldn't leave Ray without an explanation, either. He was the one
who'd brought all this up. He had to find a way to tell him at least some
of it. He struggled to find a way to condense the tragedy, to distill the
dark needs, the fears that she had left him with, into a few words that
would make Ray understand how all that had culminated in his craven lie to
him, the morning after they'd first made love. 

It was, perhaps, the hardest thing he had ever had to say, to anyone. He
rubbed an eyebrow unconsciously, and cleared his dry throat. "I'm sorry. I
couldn't tell you the truth because I wasafraid," he gritted at last, in a
low voice. "Afraid of how you can sometimessee inside of me. I was
afraidthat you might not like what you saw. Victoria didn't. She was the
only other person I ever let that close to me, and once she knew me....
Once she knew that I loved her, shetried to destroy me." 

**************************************************************************
***** 

Ben's face was shadowed, his hands knotted in the sheets, his eyes averted
and dark with remembered pain. His voice was so low it was barely audible.
Ray remembered back when he'd first met him: how infuriatingly, inhumanly
perfect he'd thought he was. Amazingly handsome. Annoyingly confident.
Like Superman or something. It still amazed him sometimes, to find that
there was so much pain and loneliness underneath that confidence, beneath
Ben's blindingly beautiful, polished exterior.	

But it made him sad as well. Took away his anger. Ben hadn't lied to hurt
him, but to protect himself. Because that Metcalf bitch whose fingers he'd
first kissed that way had later tried to rip his heart to shreds. No
wonder he'd been scared to open up about the thing. Knowing Ben, she
might've been the first woman he'd ever had sex with, and she'd turned out
to be a criminal, and a cast-iron bitch as well. That'd be enough to mess
up almost any guy's head, especially one as sensitive as Ben. No wonder he
didn't want to talk about it, or her.  

Now that he knew the caress and the lie were connected to Ben's lost love,
he wasn't pissed off anymore. He wanted to hug Ben, and he wanted to kick
Victoria Metcalf's ass, for tying him up in such ugly knots. For making
him think that letting anyone get to know him was dangerous; for teaching
him that love could only hurt him. And how many others had there been,
giving Ben shit like that over the years? Messing with his head so bad
that he was terrified of letting anyone see inside of him. Ben, who had
the kindest heart, the gentlest soul, of anyone Ray had ever known. 

"Ben," he said gently. "Look at me." 

When he finally lifted his head, Ray saw the tension in his mouth. The
strain around his blue eyes. He knew Ben was still afraid. *Gonna haveta
do somethin' about that,* he thought. *Startin' now.* So he chose his
words carefully. "I get why ya lied, all right? And it's okay." 

Ben blinked at him. A look of total noncomprehension, as if Ray was
speaking Greek, or some other language he couldn't understand. "But Ray" 

"No. No buts. I *said*, it's okay," Ray repeated.  

Ben just looked bewildered. 

Ray knew why this was hard for him to understand. Ben wasn't used to
making mistakesexcept when it came to women, anyway, and what guy didn't
fuck up concerning them? Besides, Ray suspected Ben's mistakes with women
were probably the result of inexperience, more than anything else. Because
otherwise, the Mountie was the biggest perfectionist he'd ever known.
Never stopped until he nabbed the bad guys. Always did his paperwork,
probably in triplicate. Crossed his t's, dotted his i'shell, even his hair
was always friggin' perfect! But the downside of all that relentless
perfectionism was, Ben tended to forget that he was human, and doomed to
the occasional screw-up, just like everyone else. So when it happened, he
couldn't forgive himself for it--and he didn't believe anyone else would
either.  

*He's just gonna have to get over that,* Ray thought, waiting for the
baffled look to fade from Ben's blue eyes. *Get used to being let off the
hook now and then, for bein' human. Cuz that's what love's about. Gonna
make him get used to bein' loved, if it's the last thing I do,* he
promised himself. Because he'd learned something, in the time they'd been
apart. It wasn't the lies people sometimes told that mattered so much, it
was the way they pushed you apart that hurt. He wasn't going to let
anything push him and Ben apart now. Not even Ben himself. 

"All right, Ray," Ben said at last. "Thank you." He still sounded slightly
amazed, but he'd accepted the fact that he'd been reprieved.  

Ray was glad. But he also wanted Ben to know that he wasn't letting it go
because it had been a small thing. Only because he loved him. So he added,
"Don't think I'd like it much if ya did it again, though." 

Ben swallowed hard, a muscle rippling in his cheek, but this time, to
Ray's secret relief, he didn't look away. Didn't break eye contact with
him. He just nodded quietly. "I won't." 

"Okay. Good," he said, thinking that it was at least a start. *Step One in
Kowalski's Love Lessons: Tell Me Everything. Don't Lie.* He smiled to
himself. *Step Two: Get This Straight--I Am Not That Metcalf Bitch.* 

"Okay. Now tell me ya know I'm not gonna come after ya like Victoria did.
Even if ya make mistakes. Even if ya screw up, big time. Tell me ya know I
won't hurt ya." 

That time, Ben did look away. He looked down at his hands for a second,
then raised his eyes and said, "Yes. I know, Ray." 

Ray grimaced. That was a dutiful Yes, not an honest one. Ben had only said
it to please him, not because he really believed it. Wellmaybe on the
surface he did, but not deep down, where it counted. *Shit,* he thought,
disgusted and a bit angry that Ben could still doubt him like that. Then
againhe reminded himself that he already had hurt him. So badly that Ben
had only just started, tentatively, to trust him again. Wasn't like anyone
else he'd loved in his life had ever stuck around, either. So if Ben
wasn't the trusting type, it was hardly surprising.  

Ray sighed to himself. This wasn't going to be easybut at least the
Canadian had accepted the fact that he wasn't going to be crucified for
lying to him. Least he'd said he wouldn't lie to him anymore. That was
something. Step One had gone just fine. But maybe asking for total trust,
after he'd walked out on him so recently, wasn't really fair. So maybe
Step Two would have to wait awhile.  

*Okay. One step at a time, then,* he told himself. *I can do that.* He'd
do whatever it took, to make Ben feel safe and loved. He would've crawled
over broken glass to keep him, and to make him happy. 

"All right," was all he said aloud. "That's done with. Fuhgeddaboutit," he
smiled. 

But Ray knew he wouldn't. Ben looked away, out the window, as if measuring
the time from the morning's increasing brightness. "I have to get ready
for work," he said quietly. "Will you be all right alone?" 

Ray smiled. Ben the Mother Hen again. But he very much liked that side of
the big Mountie, so he decided to let the problem of trust go for now, and
to lighten the mood with a little joke. "Yeah, Frayzh. I'm a big boy,
remember? Even dress myself and all." 

When Ben looked back at him and returned his smile, Ray leaned forward and
bore him back down onto the bed, kissing him warmly. Then he lifted his
head and wiggled his hips against Ben's, until their cocks touched, and he
felt himself harden a little. That was all it ever took for him---one
little touch, and Ben could make him hard. Turn him on. He loved that.
"'Member how big I am?" he grinned suggestively. 

Ben caught his breath. "Yes, Ray." 

Ray smiled. He'd done what he'd set out to do: taken that shadowed, guilty
look out of Ben's eyes. The Canadian was smiling again, and it seemed he'd
forgotten his fear, at least for now. Ray felt his hands steal around his
waist, stroking him gently. *It's a start,* he told himself. *A good
start....* Later on, when Ben had had some time to get used to the idea,
he'd ask him to tell him some more about Victoria Metcalf. But right now,
he figured that between the two of them, they'd done enough confessing. 

Looking down at Ben, all his worries faded from his mind. *Wish we could
spend the day in bed,* he thought, as he lowered his head to kiss him
again. But he knew that was impossible. He still had a few weeks' sick
leave coming to himCaptain Hardin's reward for solving the Donen case,
getting that bad coke off the streets, and the Mayor off of his behind.
But Ben didn't have that luxury. He'd missed enough time on his account
lately, watching over him in the hospital, and bringing him home yesterday
too. *All good things gotta end,* Ray thought wistfully. Ben had to go
back to work today. 

**************************************************************************
*** 

Ray kissed him tenderly, his earlier anger seemingly forgotten. "Okay
then," he smiled. "You go to work, like a good little Mountie. I'll drive
over and pick ya up tonight, when your shift's over." But despite his
words, Ray didn't let go of him. He planted a little kiss on his chest,
then laid his head there and slipped his arms around him. He held him
gently, but he didn't let go. 

Ben closed his eyes and slipped his arms around Ray too, because he knew
what that wordless embrace meant. Forgiveness. Understanding. Love. All
the things he didn't deserve, but that Ray gave him so freely. Kowalski
was teaching him how many different ways the words 'I love you' could be
saideven when they weren't. Those words that meant even more to him than
sex. So though he should've risen to get dressed, he lay quietly in the
warm circle of Ray's arms instead. He stroked Ray's slender body tenderly.
Saying the words back to him with his hands, and by simply staying with
him. 

And it seemed that Ray heard them, because he sighed happily against his
chest.	

They just laid that way for a time, both feeling too peaceful to move.
Fraser felt Ray's breathing slow, but even then, he didn't get up. He knew
Ray hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep the night before, and besides,
having the slight blond fall asleep with him was still a new and precious
experience for him.  

"This is so good," Ray whispered after awhile, sleep slurring his voice.
"Soooo good...." Within moments, he was asleep again. 

Ben stayed put a little longer, savoring the sweet sensation of holding
Ray's warm, naked, sleeping body in his arms. It made him feel protective,
and deeply tender. "Yes," he whispered, though Ray couldn't hear him.
"Yes, it is."  

For the first time in his life, a good person had said, "I love you" to
him. Had let him say it back. He loved, and was loved in return; and that
was better than good. More than wonderful. It was a miracle. For the first
time in his life, he felt whole. 

He slipped out from under Ray very carefully, made sure he was lying in a
comfortable position, and pressed one last kiss onto the top of his
slumbering head. Standing over him, he said it for at least the tenth time
in the last few hours. Softly, into the pearly light of dawn. "I love you
too, Ray."  

And it sounded just as good as it had in the darkness. As it would in
bright daylight. As it would, he hoped, for all the rest of his days.
Thinking of that, he smiled as he got dressed. Maybe with Ray's help, he
could finally leave Victoria's ghost behind him. As he took one last look
at the slender man in his bed before shutting the door quietly behind him,
she seemed very far away. 

**************************************************************************
********* 

Ray Vecchio rubbed his aching eyes. He and Serena had decided to start
moving their stuff into their new house early, the week before the
wedding, so they could spend their wedding night in it. So he'd asked Lt.
Welsh for the morning off, and spent it hauling boxes. It had been noon
before he'd made it back to the 27th. But even lugging boxes was fun with
Serena, and he'd been so energized by the thought of finally living in
that house, of sleeping in it with his beautiful wife every night, that
he'd decided to stay late to make up his lost time. He'd been plowing
through his paperwork steadily ever since. Now, his body was reminding him
that it was time to quit. A glance at his watch confirmed that it was past
midnight.  

*Jeez. Time to knock off,* he thought. 

He put away his files and picked up his keys, indulging himself in a long,
satisfying stretch. His back hurt a bit from all the sitting. He smiled a
little, thinking maybe he'd swing by Serena's apartment and ask her to
massage the kinks out of it for him.... Then his eyes fell on the little
bag she'd given him that morning, that was sitting on the floor by his
desk. The music.  

*Oh, damn. The music!* he groaned to himself. *Forgot all about it!*
Serena had copied the sheet music she and Benny had been using to practice
the song they were going to sing at their wedding, and she'd made him
promise to deliver it to him as soon as possible, so he could practice on
his own as much as he wanted before the big day. So he wouldn't get
nervous, singing in front of all those people. But it had been a hectic
day, trying to get caught up on all his work, and he'd totally forgotten
to hand the sheet music over to Fraser. 

He hesitated. *I can always give it to him tomorrow,* he told himself.
*'Sides, knowing Benny, he's probably got the whole thing memorized by now
anyway. Note for note.* 

Still, he'd promisedand this wasn't the way he wanted to start out his new
marriage, by reneging on promises he made to Serena. No matter how small.
That realization tipped the balance, and he decided he'd better get it
done, despite the lateness of the hour. *Okay. I'll just swing by Benny's
apartment on my way home,* he thought. Then he remembered the time. *What
if he's already in bed? Then again, he never locks his door. So if I get
there and his lights are off, I can just slip it inside the door and leave
it for him.* 

Plan made, he grabbed the bag and took off, whistling softly to himself.
Thinking not so much of Benny, but of Serena. After he dropped the sheet
music off, he'd swing by her apartment and see if she was still up. Maybe
he could even wangle a massage out of her, for his sore back. Madonna, but
it was getting harder and harder to keep the vow he'd made, to himself and
to her, not to sleep with her before their wedding night! She was so
beautiful, so warm and loving that it was almost like torture. 

Serena had thought his vow wonderfully romantic; and he'd let her. But
he'd made that vow for a reason: to protect her. And though he'd recently
learned that it was no longer necessary, he'd made it, so he was going to
stick to it. He'd long ago made another vow, that he'd never told her
about: to never let Armando Langostini touch her. He was never going to
let anything from that part of his life touch her. Even when he'd been
playing that role, living his life, when he'd held her and kissed her, it
had been Ray Vecchio who had done it. His heart, his soul, not Armando's.
But he'd almost stopped worrying about him now. Armando seemed to be gone.
 

And everything else was going according to plan: Serena had made it safely
to Chicago, his family all loved her and she loved them, they'd bought a
new house and started moving in, and the wedding was only a week away. The
only thing that had been bothering him was Benny. But it seemed he'd
mended his fences with Kowalski after his shooting. He looked a lot
happier now, like the big cloud that had been hanging over his head had
lifted. Over time, some of Ray's earlier aversion to the blond detective
had faded too. So though he wasn't turning cartwheels over the fact that
Benny and Kowalski had become friends again, since it made Fraser happy,
he'd decided he could live with it. He was so happy with Serena, he could
afford to be generous.	

So he'd also decided that there was no big secret behind Benny's recent
depression, either. Benny was just over sensitive. He hated it when he
thought he'd hurt anyone, so he must've worked himself up over the fight
he'd had with Kowalski. Ray was just relieved that it was all over with
now, and that his best friend was his usual cheerful self, just in time
for his wedding. He didn't even mind that Frannie had invited Kowalski to
it. The church was gonna be full of cops anyway, what would one more
matter?  

Best of all, Armando hadn't surfaced for months, except in his dreams.
He'd stopped thinking about him otherwise. In the last few weeks, he
hadn't even dreamed about him much. He felt he was finally seeing the
light at the end of the tunnel. He was sure that once he was married, he
wouldn't have those dreams at all anymore. He'd promised himself that he
wouldn't.  

Once he put the ring on Serena's finger, Armando would be gone forever.
He'd put all the dark stuff that had happened to him in the Family behind
him. He'd be with his new wife, they could have a family.... 

Everything was going according to his plan. 

Ray Vecchio whistled as he walked to his car. He was one happy guy. 

**************************************************************************
******* 

Some twenty minutes later, he knocked quietly on Fraser's door. "Benny?"
he called softly. 

There was no answer, but the door swung open a little at his touch. As
usual. He shook his head wryly, smiling. So many things had changed in his
life, but some things never would. The day Benny ever started locking his
door, he'd know he'd been replaced by a pod person like in one of those
sci-fi movies.	

Since the apartment was silent, and there was no answer to his knock and
hail, he figured Benny, who lived by the whole early to bed, early to rise
idea, was probably already asleep. Which was pretty much what he'd
expected, at this time of night. *I'll just go in and leave the stuff on
his kitchen table. That way the trip's not wasted, and he'll find it when
he comes home.* 

Mindful of Dief's probable presence, and the fact that he might not be
asleep, he pushed the door open slowly and quietly. As soon as he stepped
inside, the wolf trotted up to him, his tail wagging. Ray smiled. When
he'd first come back to Benny's apartment after his year-long stint in the
Family, Dief's welcome had been something to see. He'd danced and leapt in
circles around him, whoofing and grinning with excitement, then licked his
face in obvious delight. Even though Benny himself hadn't been home, he'd
felt welcomed in the warmest way. Like another part of his old life had
clicked back into place, like he'd taken one more step away from being
Langostini. Ray would never forget that. He'd been sneaking chocolate
donuts to Dief ever since, when Benny wasn't looking.  

"Hey, boy," he whispered, wishing he had one with him now as he put the
bag down on the floor just inside the door, and bent to ruffle Dief's
thick fur affectionately. He petted him for a moment, then turned to
leave. But when he straightened, he noticed something odd out of the
corner of his eye. A light was on, in Fraser's otherwise darkened
apartment. Glancing curiously into his front room, he saw it was Ben's
little bedside lamp. He hadn't noticed it at first, because its relatively
weak illumination didn't spread very far. But it cast a yellow glow over
the bed. Ray frowned, taking a curious step closer. Because it looked like
there were two people in Fraser's little bed.  

He gaped, his eyes going wide. There *were* two. One was Benny, but the
head lying on the pillow beside his was blond. *Fraser's in bed with
someone!* The shock of that froze him in his tracks.  

But it didn't stop there. Another, even more profound jolt shot through
him in the next split second, when he realized that the spiky-haired blond
in Ben's bed wasn't female. *It's a guy. A he,* he thought, stupid with
shock. Worse yet, it was a guy he recognized, and disliked. Stanley Ray
Kowalski. 

Benton Fraser was in bed with Ray Kowalski. *He's gay. No, they're gay, or
bi or something,* he thought, astounded.  

The shock was so severe that he felt the world spin around him. A roaring
sound filled his head, and he knew it was the frenzied racing of his own
heart, the pulsing of his outraged blood. There was no way this could be.
It was impossible, like seeing aliens climbing out of a UFO. *I'm sick,*
he told himself desperately. *I'm drugged, I'm seeing things....* He
blinked at them, hoping the vision would go away, but it didn't. He kept
seeing it: Ben and Kowalski in bed together. The covers had shifted down
so that their chests and shoulders were exposed, and he could see that Ben
lay on his back, with Kowalski's head on his shoulder. Kowalski lay on his
side, draped over him, his arm curled around Fraser's chest 

*Kowalski's got a tattoo,* he thought, cop eyes automatically noting the
blue mark on his arm. *I never knew that....* 

He shoved the observation away. It didn't matter. What did was the fact
that they were entwined together, even in sleep. They looked like they
were embracing. A shudder shook him from head to foot. This couldn't be
what it looked like, it couldn't. He knew instantly what it was--what it
had to be. Blackmail. Rape. This was ugly. Dark. Evil. He knew it. Knew it
because he'd been there. He'd thought he was better now, the nightmares
had nearly stopped and he'd thought he'd started to put it behind him. But
as he stared at the two men in Fraser's bed, it all came rushing back in a
storm of memory and emotions. Images began to strobe in his head, like
scenes illuminated by a brutal spotlight. He saw himself in Maxwell's
arms, in Maxwell's bed. On his knees, sucking Maxwell off. Handcuffed to
the headboard of Maxwell's bed while Maxwell drove into his ass. Whipping
a naked, moaning Maxwell until he came 

Because he and the Bookman were lovers. If you could call it that. Had
been for some time, before he ever took on Langostini's identity.  

It was the one thing even the Feds hadn't known about Langostini. He swung
both waysand Maxwell was gay. And though they'd kept it a secret, he and
the Bookman were an item. So when he'd stepped into his shoes, he'd
stepped into that too. Into their sick, sadistic, twisted relationship.
Into their whips and chains. He'd had tobecause Maxwell wasn't willing to
let him go. So it was do it or die. He'd had to teach himselfto force
himselfto fuck a man. To do it roughly, sadistically. To do things he'd
never imagined doing, and pretend that he enjoyed them 

That was when Armando had really come alive in his mind. He'd made himself
believe that Armando was the one fucking Maxwell, the one whipping him.
Armando, not him. It was the only way he could do those revolting things,
and stay even halfway sane.  

But why had Benny done this? Kowalski must've somehow coerced him into
having sex. Was that what Benny had been so upset about, for so long? If
so, what did the blond prick have on him? What could innocent Benny
possibly have done that Kowalski could've held over his head to force him
into this?  

The gorge rose in his throat. His heart pounded, and the images came at
him relentlessly, unceasing. Maxwell kissing him. Taking him up against
his bedroom wall. Maxwell pistol whipping him half to death that night
he'd broken into his house, the night he'd figured out that Ray was in
love with Serena. Maxwell raping him while he lay there bleeding, drifting
in and out of consciousness. Telling him that if he lifted a finger to
stop him, he'd kill Serena. And Ray had known he'd do it, too. So he'd
just laid there. He hadn't tried to stop him. He loved her that much. If
Nero hadn't come in with a gun and gotten the drop on him, and driven him
and his goons out of the house, Maxwell might've raped him until he died. 

It had all been for Serena. He'd been ready to die to save her. But what
would that have done to Serena--to his Mom--to Frannie, when they found
out? What would they have thought, if they'd known he'd had sex with a
man? Didn't matter that he'd never done it willingly, that he'd always
thought of women when Maxwell touched him, that he'd only done what he had
to do. They would have no way of knowing. They wouldn't have understood.
He didn't even like to think about that, about how he'd almost died while
being raped by Jimmyor what his fiance and family would have thought of
him if he had. It still gave him the shudders. 

But this was worse. *Not Benny,* he thought, sickened. *Not Benny toonot
like thatnot him!*  

He couldn't stand the thought of it. Of someone hurting Benny like that.
Fraser's memory had been what he'd clung to, as much as Serena, while he'd
been away. Every time Maxwell left his bed, or he left his, he'd showered
for a long time, then lain in bed and thought of Ben. Remembered his
goodness, his innocence. Held on to thoughts of him, to keep from vomiting
at what he'd just done.  

He'd been clinging to him still, in ways he hadn't fully realized until
now. He'd been glad when Kowalski left, and gladder still when Ben had
said his blond girlfriend had left too, that things hadn't worked out
between them. He'd wanted Benny all to himself, at least until his
wedding. He'd needed him, to get himself back on an even keel. He'd needed
to step back into his old life and have everything the same, so he could
tell himself that he hadn't changed either. Or maybe so he could change
back into his old self, into the relatively innocent Ray who'd been Ben's
best friend. Hell, he'd even told himself that he deserved that, after
what he'd gone through. 

He'd been a totally selfish bastardbut Fraser had done something even
worse. He'd lied to him. He'd never told him about this. Seeing them
together, Ray suspected this wasn't the first time this had happened. They
looked way too comfortable together. HOW LONG? he wanted to scream, fury
rising in him. How long had this been going on? Why the hell hadn't Fraser
told him?  

Hot, seething rage tightened his chest. He could hardly control it; and he
didn't want to direct it towards Benny. Because this couldn't be his
fault. No way. Benny would never have done this willingly, not in a
million years. He must've been forced. Threatened. Coerced. Blackmailed.
There was no other explanation. 

So he turned his rage on the room's only other occupant. He didn't have to
hate Benny. He'd hate Kowalski instead. That was easy. The little weasel
had corrupted Benny somehow. Taken his innocence. Blackmailed and raped
him. Tried to turn Benny into what Ray himself had once beeninto a whore. 

He couldn't let that happen. 

Filled with rage, he was moving before he knew it. Heading for the bed,
for the bastard who'd raped Ben. Who'd corrupted him. Heading for
Kowalski, with murder on his mind. 

**************************************************************************
********* 

It was absurdly easy. Time slowed around him, and he moved quietly,
shifting his weight forward onto the balls of his feet so that his shoes
made no sound on Fraser's wooden floor. He was beside the bed in a
heartbeat, and he pulled the covers off of Ben and Kowalski slowly.
Carefully. He noticed that Kowalski had a tattoo, and that his slender
body still bore a lot of fading bruises, and a livid gunshot scar. He knew
where he'd got the big bullet wound, but he didn't even want to think
about where all his bruises had come from. Didn't want to look close
enough to see if any of them were hickeys or not. He didn't let Kowalski's
fading injuries slow him down, though, didn't allow himself to feel an
ounce of pity. Instead, he pulled the covers down to their knees with
calm, steady hands. He didn't want to wake either of them upnot just yet.
They were both strong and well-trained, and he couldn't risk that.
Together, they could resist him.  

*We can't have that,* Armando smiled inside his head. Armando had taken
over now. He knew all about this type of thing. It was what he lived for,
what he was good at. Killing people. Taking them by surprise and snuffing
them out almost before they knew what had happened. 

He considered that. Once the covers were mostly off them, and he saw that
both Kowalski and Benny were totally naked, the nausea rose in him again.
The pure, flaming hatred. *Maxwell,* he thought. *He's just like Maxwell.*
He dropped the blankets, his hands suddenly unsteady. For a second, he
considered pulling his gun and wasting Kowalski right there. Killing him
without finesse. Without warning. Without a word spoken. He deserved that,
for what he'd done to Benny. 

Armando would've done it. In fact, he felt him reaching for his gun, and
the next thing he knew, it was pointed at Kowalski's head. But the thought
suddenly crossed Ray Vecchio's mind that if he shot Kowalski here, while
he lay in Fraser's arms, his blood would spatter onto Benny. And that
would hurt Benny, that would upset him.  

*Benny won't like it if I kill him.* 

Ray Vecchio knew that. No matter how much Benny must hate Kowalski for
forcing him into this, he wouldn't want him dead. Benny was too
good-hearted to condone murder, for any reason. Even of a prick who'd
raped him. Ray remembered how he'd even protected that bastard Girard
once, the guy who'd killed his dad, because he felt it was his duty. So he
knew he wouldn't want him to kill Kowalski, either.  

Armando didn't care; to him, Kowalski was just like Maxwell. He was
Maxwell. But Ray didn't want to hurt Benny. So he lowered the gun, staring
down at them, caught in a flicker of indecision that was entirely Ray
Vecchio's. 

Then Kowalski stirred, turned his head towards him slightly. His eyes were
still closed, but his brows had puckered in a sleepy little frown, and his
hands twitched slightly, as if they were looking for his missing covers.
Like he'd gotten cold without them. In a few more seconds, he'd wake up.
Armando knew it. He felt it. They both might, and then he'd lose the
critical element of surprise. 

*There's no time to waste,* he thought coldly. *Do him. Now.* 

He grabbed Kowalski by the throat with one hand, and by the arm with the
other, and with one smooth, powerful jerk, fueled by the red heat of his
rage, he hauled him out of bed and onto the floor. Kowalski's blue eyes
flew open at his touch, and his body stiffened, but he'd been sleeping too
heavily to stop him. It took him several seconds to come fully awake, and
by that time, he'd hit the floor with a grunt of surprise and pain. 

"What the fuck?" 

Kowalski's hands, slim but surprisingly strong, came up to claw at the
hand he'd wrapped around his throatbut it was too late. By the time
Kowalski hit the floor, Armando had trained Ray Vecchio's gun on him as
well. When the blond opened his mouth to protest, he jammed the barrel
into it to shut him up. Kowalski's eyes went gratifyingly wide with
surprise and fear. Somewhere behind him, he heard a warning growl from
Dief, and heard Fraser sit up.	

"Ray!" The name rang in his ears. Adrenaline had heightened his senses to
the point where he probably would've heard a pin drop, so Fraser's cry
sounded amazingly loud. He heard the fear and anguish in it, but he didn't
let it touch him. He didn't even know which Ray Fraser was talking tohim
or Kowalski. But it didn't matter, because Ray wasn't in control now.
Armando was, and he didn't answer to that name.  

Dief's deepening growl commanded more of his attention. It was closer now.
He could see the wolf creeping towards him out of the corner of his eye,
tail lashing, teeth bared. But Armando knew he wasn't an immediate threat.
Dief was hesitant, as confused as Fraser and Kowalski. Even though he'd
grabbed Kowalski, and even though the wolf knew, from years of living with
Fraser, the deadly threat represented by the gun he was pointing at him,
he didn't attack. Dief knew that he was Fraser's friend. Still, it was
clear that Dief wanted to protect Kowalski, too. He must've gotten used to
seeing him in Fraser's apartment--so he probably (mistakenly) thought of
him as Ben's friend, too. Wasn't like the wolf would know that he'd
sexually blackmailed Benny. Besides -- Ray Vecchio had been Fraser's best
buddy for far longer than Kowalski had. So the wolf hesitated, sensing
deadly intent but not knowing what to do, when it was between Ben's best
friends.  

Armando had counted on that. He kept an eye on Dief, but didn't let him
disturb his concentration. Focus; that was the key to a successful hit.
You had to keep focused, and stay sharp. He kept his eyes on his enemy, on
Maxwell, and his finger on the trigger. But he didn't pull it yet. This
was payback. Revenge. This was sweet. Armando laughed to himself. He felt
a surge of pure, black joy at Maxwell's helplessness. His humiliation. He
reveled in his fear, was glad he was fully awake now, and that he'd know
who was doing it when he shot him dead. 

"How's it feel, huh, Jimmy?" Armando taunted. "Bein' the helpless one?"
Remembering how Maxwell had raped him on his bedroom floor that night, his
hand tightened on the gun. His finger tugged gently on the trigger... 

But Ray Vecchio stopped him. He resurfaced suddenly, with a surge of
alarm, and looked down at the man he held captive. Jimmy Maxwell's hated
face disappeared, was replaced by Ray Kowalski's furious one. Ray blinked
swiftly. *No,* he told Armando. *Wait. Don't shoot him before we really
know what's goin' on here.* 

Armando fought for control, shoved the cop away again, deep down inside.
He was drifting, and he couldn't afford to do that. The situation was too
dangerous. Both cops were awake now, and the wolf was getting too close.
He heard Dief growl again, almost at his elbow. "You. Mountie. Get him
away from me. Now!" he said. 

Fraser understood the warning implicit in those words, and in the finger
he flexed on the trigger, because he obeyed instantly. Out of the corner
of his eye, Armando saw him tug the wolf backwards, his hands around his
chest. Dief allowed it. His hackles were still raised, but he obeyed
Fraser anyway, and laid down slowly beside the bed. He saw the Mountie
make some kind of hand signal to the wolf, presumably reinforcing his
command to stay put, and Dief did.  

Once the immediate danger had passed, Armando relaxed enough to let
Vecchio surface again for a moment. Ray wanted to find out what Kowalski
had on Fraser. It was important to know that before Armando killed him. It
was possible that he had two levers to use on Ben: one that had started
this whole scheme, and another to keep it going. He might even have
pictures stowed away somewhere safe, to protect his sorry ass. Pictures of
them in bed together. A little extra added insurance, to keep Fraser doing
what he wanted, despite how he must've hated it. Ray knew all about that
stuff. It was a tactic the Iguanas had used many, many times, with great
success. So he'd ask Fraser what had started this whole thing, and then
he'd find out from Kowalski what he'd used to back it up.  

Then, depending on his answer, he might just let Armando kill the asshole.


He asked coolly over his shoulder, "What's he got on you, Benny?" 

He heard bedsprings creak, heard Fraser get up. "Nothing," he said, in a
low, urgent voice. "Ray, don't. Stop it! Put your gun away. He wasn't
hurting me. He isn't Maxwell!" 

Surprised by Fraser's words, Ray Vecchio froze momentarily. They surprised
Kowalski too. The flicker of fear in his blue eyes turned to confusion.
But when Vecchio hesitated, staring down at him with a frown, they
narrowed with rage and hatred. Ray's gun was still jammed into his mouth,
so Kowalski couldn't talk, but he growled and bit down on his gun barrel,
his blue eyes blazing. It was the most amazing gesture of defiance Ray had
ever seen. Naked on the floor with his gun shoved halfway down his throat,
Kowalski was *still* saying, "Bite me." Kowalski might be a prick and a
blackmailing sonuvabitch, but he had balls. No doubt about that. Despite
his rage, Ray Vecchio felt a flicker of reluctant admiration for his
courage.  

But Armando hated him for it. "Shut up, you," he growled, taking control
again. He preferred his victims to wilt, to moan and cry and beg for their
lives. Kowalski's unexpected bravery enraged him. He was tempted to pull
his gun out of his mouth and wail on him with it first, before shooting
him. To beat him bloody with it, just like Maxwell had done to him. But
that would've been stupid. He had the upper hand now. He couldn't allow
emotion to distract him. But apparently Fraser thought he had, because he
heard a faint sound behind him and realized the Mountie was trying to
sneak up on him, to disarm him.  

"Get back on your bed, Mountie, or he's dead," he warned coldly. He felt,
rather than saw, Fraser freeze behind him. Then he heard the slight
creaking of his bed that told him he'd sat down on it like he'd ordered.  

"Don't hurt him, Ray," Fraser pleaded. "Please don't! Let him go." 

Armando shook his head, holding Kowalski's angry gaze as he caressed the
trigger. "No. I'm gonna take care o' him for ya. But first, ya gotta tell
me what he's got on you." 

"RAY!" Fraser sounded chokedmore desperate than he'd ever heard him. So
desperate that Ray Vecchio resurfaced and took control again, brought back
by the anguish in his voice. He couldn't understand why Fraser would care
so much about a guy who'd done such a terrible thing to him. It didn't
make sense, and he wavered, confused.  

"He's not blackmailing me," Fraser went on, his voice thick with an
emotion Ray still couldn't identify. "Don't you see? It's not rape, Ray.
He's my lover. Do you understand? I love him. Please don't hurt him. I
love him!" 

For the second time that night, the world spun around Ray Vecchio.
Fraser's words seemed to echo in his ears: "I love him, I love
himIlovehim" He froze, unable to move, hardly able to breathe, as they
swept over him. 

In a flash, he understood everything: his own blindness, the extent that
Fraser had been lying to him, and the enormity of his mistake. 

Kowalski was the key to all of it. If he hadn't disappeared so soon after
he got back, and if he'd been able to look past his own knee-jerk dislike
because of his chance resemblance to Maxwell, he'd've seen it much sooner.
His time with the Iguanas had honed his ability to spot lies, and to
ferret out secrets, to razor-like sharpness. But he'd been distracted by
Serena and their wedding preparations. Plus, he'd been trying to forget
all that. He'd let down his guard deliberately. He'd wanted things to be
simple, he'd wanted to be happy again, he'd wanted to relax, and *stop*
mistrusting everyone around him. But most of all, he hadn't wanted to take
a close look at Ben's relationship with Kowalski. He'd been afraid to,
afraid he might find out that Benny liked Kowalski better than him. He'd
been so jealous of "the other Ray" that he couldn't even see straight. So
envious of the fact that he'd taken his place at Fraser's side while he
was away that he'd been glad to see him go.  

He'd never guessed that he had more reasons to be jealous of Kowalski than
even his paranoid, Wiseguy mindset had ever dreamed. 

But the signs had been there all along, right under his nose. He saw that
now. Hell, Fraser had almost let the cat out of the bag himself, the first
day he came back. When he'd asked him to describe the person who'd put the
hickey on his neck, he remembered his exact words: "Tall. Blond," he'd
said. "A wonderful person." Which was exactly how his family had all
described Kowalski. Now that it was far too late, he realized that Fraser
had never said "she" or "her, or even used the word "girlfriend" in that
conversation. He'd just said "my friend", blushed all over the place,
refused to tell Ray his "friend's" name, and let him believe his "friend"
was female. 

Now he knew why. 

Now he knew the why of a lot of weird little things that had been
bothering him. Why Fraser had been so depressed after Kowalski transferred
out; why he'd said his relationship with his "friend" hadn't worked out,
and that she'd left. Now he knew what he must've told Frannie that day at
the station when he'd kissed her hand, and why they'd been talking in that
weird sort of code in front of him; and why Frannie had refused to tell
him what they'd been talking about.  

That was an extra morsel of agony for him: Frannie knew about this. Benny
had lied to him about this all along, about the biggest, most important
secret he'd ever hadbut he'd told Frannie. Not him, but Frannie. After all
they'd done together, everything they'd been through, he'd gone to Frannie
with this, instead of him. That burned, like Benny had seared his heart
with a blowtorch. 

He was gay. Benny was gay, or bi, or whateverand he'd never said. He was
fucking Kowalski, he'd even said he *loved* himbut he'd never told him. 

He wasn't sure what made him sicker. The fact of it, or that he'd lied to
him about it. He felt a flash of hatred for Fraser now, too. Wanted to
hurt them both, not just for being what they were, but for shutting him
out like this. 

But he couldn't. Once he heard Ben say he loved Kowalski, that changed
everything. He became Ray Vecchio again, and Armando slithered away,
taking all his cold-blooded ruthlessness away with him. His joy in
killing. Ray Vecchio couldn't kill anyone in cold blood, let alone his
best friend. Or even his best friend's lover. He couldn't kill Benny, and
he couldn't save him, either. If he was in love, he wouldn't want to be
saved. But if Benny was in love with a man, he wasn't sure he even knew
him anymore.  

*Maybe I never did,* he thought bleakly. 

Benny was lost to him. He felt confused. Betrayed. 

Benny had been his best friend. He knew things about him even Serena
didn't know, was close to him in a way even she could never be. He'd
counted on him, trusted him more than he'd ever trusted anyone in his
life. He loved him like a brother. But now all that was gone, shattered
the second he saw Kowalski's blond head lying on Ben's chest. So if Benny
was lost, then so was he.  

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as his rage
drained away. He pulled the gun out of Kowalski's mouth and heaved himself
to his feet without a word. 

**************************************************************************
******** 

Vecchio was stunned. Completely blown away by the fact that Ben had said
that he loved him. Ray Kowalski could see it in his face.  

*Good,* he thought. *That makes two of us.* He didn't know what the hell
Vecchio was doing here in the middle of the night, or why he'd freaked
out, hauled him out of bed, called him "Jimmy" and shoved a gun in his
mouth. None of it made any sense. But he did know that until Fraser had
said that he loved him, Vecchio had meant to kill him. To blow his brains
out, right there on Fraser's floor. He'd been a cop long enough to
recognize deadly intent when he saw it, and Vecchio's green eyes had been
blazing with it. But once Ben had said that he loved him, all the wind had
gone out of Vecchio's sails. He'd wilted, and let him go. When he climbed
to his feet, he wasn't even looking at him anymore. He was just staring at
Fraser, his eyes wide with shock.  

Ray smiled; a cold, grim smile. Vecchio was distracted so it was payback
time. "Shouldn't've put yer gun away, freak!" he snarled. He reached out
and grabbed the crazed Italian's ankles with both hands. He yanked hard,
throwing his weight into it, knowing that the prick wasn't expecting it.
Not now.  

He pulled Vecchio's legs out from under him, and he went down with a
satisfying thud. He even dropped the gun. And before Fraser could say a
word or move towards them, Kowalski jumped him. Climbed on top of him and
grabbed him by the throat. "Like that?" he asked, with a nasty grin.
"How's it feel, huh, Vecchio? Bein' the helpless one?" he sneered.
"Bastard!" 

Then he punched him.  

At least he meant to. Hard, right in the mouth.  

But Fraser caught him. Stopped him. Grabbed his arm, and hauled him up off
of Vecchio before he could land the punch. Damn, but the Mountie was
strong! 

"Stop it, Ray. That's enough," Ben said in a clear, loud voice. Both his
tone and his grip stunned Kowalski. That was Ben's cop voice. He'd never
used it with him beforeand he didn't like it. But Ben held him in a cop's
grip, too, an arm thrown across his chest, clamping down on him tightly.
So there wasn't much he could do about it. "Ray, get up," Ben went on, in
that same tone, to Vecchio this time. "Get up and go now. Please. There's
been enough violence."	

Fraser's authoritative tone worked just as well on Vecchio as it had on
him. The Italian got back up without a word, and without trying to
retaliate, either. He even reholstered his gun. 

But the sight of Vecchio standing on his feet again renewed Ray's rage.
"Lemme go, dammit!" he snarled, struggling to get away from Ben, his head
throbbing with frustrated rage. He wanted to beat the crap out of the
Italian, who stood there glaring at him. But Fraser held him in an iron
grip and wouldn't let go. He couldn't break free. 

"Please go, Ray," Ben repeated, this time in a quieter voice. But there
was an edge of anguish in it that tore at Kowalski's heart. "Now." 

"Fine," Vecchio said flatly. He straightened his suit with hands that
Kowalski was glad to see were starting to shake. "I'll go. Be glad to. But
I won't be back." 

Kowalski had stopped fighting Ben's hold, but his eyes glared bloody
murder. "Damn right ya won't. Ya ever come back here, I'll kill ya!" he
yelled. 

**************************************************************************
****** 

Ray ignored Kowalski's threat. Now that he was sane again, himself again,
he even understood it. Knew that he would've probably said the same thing,
if he were in his shoes. But it didn't lessen his hatred, or his shame. He
found himself shaking as he faced the two of them. It was odd, because
they were both naked and unarmed, and he was dressed and carrying a gun,
but he felt hideously vulnerable in front of them now. Sure, he'd found
out they were gay, or bi or whateverbut they'd learned his secret, too.
He'd gone nuts in front of them.  

What the hell did fags call it? Being 'outed'? He'd 'outed' himself, in a
way. Brought out the biggest skeleton in his closet, and rattled its dry
bones in front of two perceptive cops. He wasn't sure if Kowalski got it
yethe might be too furious to have put two and two together that fast.
Plus, he didn't know about his history with Maxwell. But Fraser did; and
he knew why he'd done it. Why he'd lost it so completely. Ray could see it
in his eyes.  

*He's gonna tell Kowalski, as soon as I leave,* he thought. It made him
sick. More ashamed than he'd ever been in his life. He'd never wanted
anyone else to find out what had happened to him in the Family. What
Maxwell had done to him, what he'd made him do. He'd hidden it from
everyone, even his mom. But now Ben knew; and Ray Kowalski, who hated his
guts, would know too. God only knew who he'd tell. Jesus he could spread
rumors all through the Department. Welsh would find out, Hewey and Dewey
would everyone would.  

Worse, what if Serena found out? What if Ben went to her about this? What
if he told her what he'd guessed? What if she learned his darkest secret? 

*Jesus. I could lose her.* 

The thought took his breath away, filled him with cold terror. Suddenly,
Fraser wasn't just his ex-friend anymore. He was worse than a betrayer who
loved someone else more than him, or even a once-trusted companion who'd
deceived him. He was a threat. To his newfound life, to his happiness.
Both of them were.  

"We're finished, Fraser," he said, trying to sound cold instead of
frightened. Trying to make it sound like it was Benny's fault, like it was
because they were bi--not because of what he'd done, or what Fraser knew
about him. "We're not partners anymore, and you don't come to my wedding,"
he said. He hated the way emotion thickened his voice, made it shake. But
he forced the words out. He had to. "Either of you. You stay away from me
and Serena. From me and my family. For good." 

Kowalski had cooled off by then, stopped fighting Fraser or trying to get
at him. So Ben had let him go. But his eyes heated to blue, burning coals
again at his words. "To hell with yer weddin'!" he snarled. "Who needs ya?
You stay away from us, ya fuckin' nutcase!" He started forward again,
anger in every line of his slender body.  

Fraser caught his arm, held him back. "Ray, please," he murmured. "Please
don't." And to Ray's surprise, Kowalski subsided. Reluctantly, but clearly
because it was what Benny wanted. Vecchio knew in that instant that no one
else could've done that, could've kept Kowalski from going for him again,
for the way he'd rejected Fraser. And that hurt, on levels so deep he
didn't even have names for them. It was truethey were in love. Kowalski
loved Benny, just like he did. 

That thought brought on a wave of revulsion. *No, not like I do! That,
that'sgross. Perverted, disgusting!* 

But hard on the heels of that, he remembered how they'd looked when he
came in. Tender. Trusting. Even innocent, all curled up together. Not
really disgusting at all. *Maybe, if they're in love, it isn't like that.
Not like being with Maxwell was for me.* The thought crossed his mind
before he could stop it. *Maybe Kowalski isn't like Maxwell in bed....*
But the idea that their sex might be gentle and pleasurable only made what
he and Maxwell had done seem that much worse. That much sicker. And it
only left him further out in the cold. Locked out of Fraser's heart by the
little blond who'd taken his place. The fact that he was the one who'd
chosen to leave didn't make that any easier to bear. Jealousy blasted
through him again.  

"Fuck you, Kowalski," he said coldly. Then he looked at Fraser. "Fuck both
o' you!"  

Fraser went white at that. Kowalski's lips thinned in a snarl. "Izzat yer
problem, Vecchio? Izzat what ya really want? Ya jealous?" He took a step
towards him. Taunting him outrageously. Trying, as unbelievable as it
seemed, to provoke him. When he was naked and unarmed, and Ray was
carrying a gun. In spite of everything, Ray felt, again, a flicker of
unwilling admiration for his courage. Or sheer crazinesswhatever. It
crossed his mind that Benny wouldn't have made it in the Familybut
Kowalski probably would've.  

Then he hated himself, for having had a good thought of any kind about the
little prick who'd stolen Benny away from him. He took an involuntary step
towards him, rage rising in him again.	

Ben moved in front of Kowalski. "Please, Ray," he said hoarsely. "Please
don't do this" 

Though Ben was facing him, Ray Vecchio wasn't sure which one of them he
was talking to, and that hurt. He'd had enough of that. Enough of this. He
couldn't take anymore. He had to get out. He shook his head, tears burning
behind his eyes. "We're not friends anymore, Fraser. I don't ever wanna
see you again." He turned on his heel and walked out, before he lost it
completely and started crying like a girl in front of Fraser and Kowalski.


He couldn't bear, even now, to think of him as Ben's lover.  

Behind him, Kowalski growled, "Good riddance! He doesn't need ya anyway.
But you'll be seein' me, ya freak! Count on it." 

Despite his lover's threat, Fraser came after him. He'd pulled on a pair
of jeans and followed him, grabbed his arm to keep him from walking away.
"Ray, I'm sorry!" he said, his voice low and urgent. "I know I should've
told you. I wanted to, butI thought you wouldn't understand." 

Ray had a sudden, dark sense of deja vu. He'd been here before, gone
through this scene with Ben before. One dark night when Ben had missed his
big pool night, cuz he was shacked up with that Metcalf bitch. Fraser had
chased him out to his car, ran down the middle of the street after him,
trying to explain why he'd done it. Why he'd hurt him like that. 

He'd forgiven him then. That, he'd halfway understood. After all, she was
a woman, and a beautiful one at that. But this? Fucking a guy? Fucking the
'other Ray', the guy who'd spent a year being him while he was away? It
was too much. In a weird way, it was almost like incest or something. He
couldn't accept it. Not from Fraser, who'd he thought was innocent. Cuz
even if it wasn't rape, it was perverted. 

This hurt worse than Victoria and that had been bad enough. This, he
couldn't forgive. 

"You were right. You were so right. I don't understand!" he snarled. He
shook Ben's hand off angrily, tears filling his eyes as he headed down the
hall towards the stairs. "So just stay the hell away from me!" It was all
he could get outbut it was enough. It stopped Fraser from coming after
him.  

But as he stalked away, he heard Kowalski growl at Ben. "Ya didn't have to
tell him! It's none of his goddamn business!"  

Ray knew he shouldn't care. Kowalski was an enemy now. So was Fraser. He
shouldn't care what they thought of him, what they said. But those words
made him feel more alone than he had since the day he'd left on his
undercover assignment. 

He made it to the stairs and clattered down them, empty and angry and
hollowed out inside. He'd thought everything in his life was back on track
again. He'd been a fool. Now, almost on the eve of his wedding, he'd lost
Bennyfound out that he was gay or bi (and he wasn't sure which was
worse)--and Armando had come back.  

He made it out to the street and into his car, moving automatically. But
once he was in the driver's seat, a wave of terror rolled over him. His
hands shook so badly that he couldn't get the key in to start the car.	

*I almost killed him.* The nearness of it made him shake. He'd come within
a hair of murdering Kowalski, for reasons that no one else but Ben even
had a clue about. He'd almost killed a cop, just a few days before his own
wedding. Almost committed suicide himself--because if he'd offed Kowalski,
he would've been sent to prison, where cops got killed.  

And it would've all been for nothing. He'd meant to do it to protect
Benny, but he'd been wrong about that. Benny didn't need protection.
Kowalski was his lover. His lover, not his rapist. He'd totally misread
the situation, because of his past with Maxwell. Because Kowalski looked a
little like himand because he'd always been jealous of his friendship with
Fraser.  

He'd been a fool, about a helluva lot of things. He'd never guessed that
Benny was gay, or that Kowalski had wormed his way into his bed. His own
sister had known it, but he'd never even guessed.  

It was too much. He couldn't deal with all of it. He felt like he was
suffocating. Found himself breathing way too fast. *Madonna. Am I going
crazy?*  

He didn't know. There was only one thing left for him to do. One place he
could go. He started the engine, tightened his shaky hands on the wheel,
and drove off into the night. 

**************************************************************************
******* 

"No! Huh uh. No way, Fraser!" Stanley Ray Kowalski snarled.  

Furious and humiliated because the Italian had caught him with his pants
down, he'd put his jeans on again after Ray Vecchio left. So he wasn't
naked anymore, but somehow, he still felt like he was. Fraser had pulled
on his jeans and a sweatshirt, too. But Ray suspected that getting dressed
hadn't made him feel much better either, because Ben didn't answer him. He
sat on a kitchen chair, his face pale, his eyes shuttered, and rubbed his
arms as if he were cold. 

Ray didn't like how Ben looked, or the fact that he'd ignored him. He
didn't like it at all. But he hid his worry by pacing restlessly up and
down his tiny living room. *Why the hell didn't we hear Vecchio come in?*
he thought, for at least the hundredth time. Wishing he could change what
had just happened, though he knew he couldn't. *Why the fuck didn't I wake
up before he had a chance to grab me?*	

But he knew why. He just didn't want to face it. The truth was, he and Ben
had been sleeping like the proverbial dead when Vecchio crept in because
they'd worn themselves out making love. After being separated from Ben all
day, he'd been so horny that he'd practically ripped his uniform off as
soon as he drove him home after work. This thing between them was so
strong they couldn't get enough of each other. No matter how many times
they did it, or how hard they went at it, he always wanted more. So did
Ben. They'd been so absorbed in each other that he didn't even know
exactly how long they'd been making love before Vecchio got there. For
several hours, certainly. At some point, they'd just fallen asleep in each
other's arms, worn out and happy, with the bedside lamp still on. 

That damn lamp. He hadn't thought about turning it off before they fell
asleep. Ben hadn't either. It had seemed totally inconsequential at the
time. Unnecessary. They were alone, so who cared? And he liked to make
love to Ben with the light on, liked to see his beautiful body, watch his
face while he caressed him, when he made him come. Now he wished,
desperately, that he'd shut the goddamn lamp off for once. That little
detail tortured him. Because if he had, if it had been dark in Ben's
apartment when Vecchio came in, he might not have seen them. He might've
assumed Ben was either gone, or else asleep all alone. He might've left
without being any the wiser about them. Without anyone being hurt. 

But he couldn't change things now. It was done. They'd left the light on,
and Vecchio had come in, and tried to kill him when he saw them together.
Now he and Ben had to somehow deal with all that.  

They weren't doing too well so far. Ray had a sour taste in his mouth now,
that was more than the mere aftermath of fear and shock. Deep inside, so
deep that he would never have admitted it to anyone, it hurt him to know
that seeing them together, knowing that they were sexually involved, had
filled Vecchio with such rage. Such hatred. What was between him and Ben
was so good, so rightit was the best thing he'd ever had. Better even than
his love for Stella, and that had been a minor miracle in its own right.
It hurt that their love, the incredible happiness they'd found, just
looked ugly to Vecchio. Perverted. Like rape.  

*Jesus.* 

It was the first time the outside world had intruded into their perfect,
private little world, and the intrusion had been more brutal, and far more
violent, than he'd ever imagined it would be. He'd expected sneers. Name
calling. Gay jokes, insults, maybe even an occasional jackass who might
take a punch at him. But he'd never expected that a fellow cop, Ben's best
friend at that, would try to kill him. That hurt. It hurt a lot.  

*The prick shoved his gun in my mouth,* he thought, his whole body going
taut at the memory. His eyes turned cold. "I'm gonna arrest Vecchio," he
said out loud, for the twentieth time. He took a wicked pleasure in the
very sound of the words. In imagining doing it. The idea filled his mind
with beautiful, evil visions. *Vecchio in handcuffs. In the lockup, with
some three hundred pound biker cozyin' up to him. Oh, yeah. Mr. Armani, a
biker's bitch.* He could see that. After what he'd done to them, he
*wanted* to see that.  

"He'll be sorry. Big time," he added vengefully.  

That finally got a response from Ben. But not the one he wanted. All he
said was, "Would you like some coffee, Ray?" 

"Fuck, no!" he snapped, before he even thought. Then, realizing what he'd
said, how he'd overreacted, he shot a sideways glance at Ben. He half
expected a lecture on bad language, but Ben just winced and looked away.
Ray's mouth tightened. Ben was probably trying to help, to calm him, to
make this bizarre night seem more normal. But he didn't want that. Wasn't
in the mood to be petted or soothed. Something terrible had happened, and
he wasn't going to ignore it. Wasn't going to let Ben do it, either. How
the hell was he supposed to act like this was a regular old Thursday
morning, when Ben's best buddy had just tried to whack him?  

"How can you even think of food at a time like this?" he grated. 

"Technically, coffee isn't food, Ray. It's a beverage," the Mountie
answered automatically. 

Ray gritted his teeth. *Beverage, schmeverage.* "Whatever ya wanna call
it, I don't want any! And I swear, Fraser, if you do that niggling thing
right now--" 

"Understood," Ben said hastily.  

Ray went back to pacing. The truth was, he'd really refused the coffee
because emotionally, he already felt raw. Jittery. Wired. Coffee would've
made that worse. Turned it into an explosion. He could feel one coming
anyway. No caffeine needed. Because Ray Vecchio had come into Ben's
apartment in the middle of the night and attacked himtried to kill him.
Because he thought he'd raped Ben or something. Because he'd confused him
with someone named "Jimmy", whoever the hell *he* was. Vecchio had
obviously gone off the deep end. Way off! He was fucking looney tunes.	

Worse, Ben refused to see that. He'd refused to let Ray beat the crap out
of him, refused to back him up about arresting him either, and now he
seemed to have taken a dive off the deep end himself. Because despite what
had happened, he kept insisting that he had to talk to Vecchio. 

"I need to apologize to him, Ray," he said, for the third time. 

"WHAT?" 

Ray couldn't believe it. As far as he could tell, Vecchio's craziness must
be catching. Because of all the crazy things that had happened in Ben's
apartment that night, and there'd been quite a few, this had to be the
craziest. Vecchio had tried to kill him, and threatened both of them; and
now Ben wanted to apologize to him! He was used to the Mountie doing weird
things, but this was beyond belief. *Freaks! I oughtta have 'em both
committed,* Ray thought darkly. 

But aloud, all he said for the third time -- was, "No! N-o, no! Ya don't
wanna go anywhere near him! He's nuts! Wheel's runnin', but the hamster's
dead! Don'tcha get that?" 

But Fraser wasn't listening. He hadn't heard a thing he'd said after
Vecchio left, though they'd been arguing ever since. Well, Ray had been
arguing anyway. Telling Fraser they should charge Vecchio with aggravated
assault. That they should turn his ass in, and let the law Ben was so fond
of do a number on him.	

But Fraser didn't agree. He'd either been silent, or horribly polite. But
in any case, he hadn't agreed about charging Vecchio. Actually, he hadn't
said much at all. Ray could've forgiven him for being quiet, though. He
knew how sensitive Ben was, and that he was probably in shock over what
had just happened. Besides, though Fraser could talk more than any man
he'd ever met, Ray knew that discussing his deepest feelings was something
else again. For Ben, it was almost like torture. So he could've forgiven
his silence in the wake of Vecchio's crazed attack. 

But he couldn't forgive his avoidance. Ever since Vecchio left, Ben had
stayed far away from him. Hadn't hugged him, tried to comfort him, or even
touched him. That hurt. Because deep down inside, Ray didn't just want
that, he craved it. He wanted Ben's embrace, his strong arms around him,
like he needed his next breath. He'd come within a hair of dying tonight,
and a part of him was still cold inside. He needed Ben to make him warm
again, to make his fear go away.  

But he couldn't admit it. Couldn't blow his tough guy image like that.
Hell, he'd already lost it with him once, just a few days ago. He'd
grabbed Ben and practically begged him not to leave. So though he would've
given his right arm for a hug right now, he couldn't ask for one. Couldn't
get down on his knees every time they had an argument. He wished Ben would
offer one, so he wouldn't have to ask, but he didn't. Ben didn't seem to
sense his need for comfort at all. He acted like he had the Plague.
Wouldn't come within ten feet of him. Worst of all, despite his
objections, he kept mumbling something wacko about telling Vecchio he was
sorry. 

Ray had been doing a slow burn ever since Ben had brought that up; and
he'd told him so. "Wowwhat a brilliant plan, Frayzh. Apologize to the guy
who just tried to kill me. That'll solve everything. Why the hell didn't I
think o' that? In fact, I think I'll bring ya along, the next time I
haveta bust some cokehead. After he pumps a few shots off at me, I'll just
have *you* apologize to him! THAT'LL make him wanna come along quietly!" 

Fraser hadn't responded to his sarcasm. Hadn't gotten mad in return, just
narrowed his eyes a little. It wasn't nearly enough. It hadn't improved
Ray's mood at all. In fact, it was getting nastier every time Ben repeated
his stupid plan. "NO!" he said again, louder. 

"No what, Ray?"  

Ray gritted his teeth. He hated it when Fraser played dumb. He'd learned
long ago that he only did that when you said something he didn't want to
hear. And he was all over that little trick. Wasn't going to let him get
away with it. He didn't usually tell Fraser what to do, but this was
different. This was dangerous. As nuts, in its own way, as what Vecchio
had just done. He couldn't stand by and let it happen. 

"You know what! What you just said! Apologizin' to Vecchio. You ain't
doin' that!" he insisted. 

Benton Fraser set his jaw just as stubbornly. "I have to, Ray." 

Ray paced across the floor, so agitated he couldn't stay still. "Whaddaya
MEAN, ya HAVE to? The Ice Queen order ya to?" 

Fraser sighed. "No. Of course not. She doesn't even know--" 

"Right," he cut in. "But unless I've missed somethin', ya don't haveta
take orders from anyone else! So if she didn't order ya to apologize to
that asshole for tryin' to kill me, then ya don't have to!" 

Ben tugged at his ear. "That's rather circular logic, Ray. How could she
issue an order regarding an incident of which she is unaware?" 

Ray's eyes narrowed. "Oh, now yer accusin' *me* o' logic? That's rich!" he
fumed, insulted. He knew why Ben was doing it. He was trying to distract
him, so he wouldn't have to deal with the real issue: his objection to his
crazy apology plan. But Ray wasn't about to let him sidestep that. No way.
 

"No, I said 'circular logic'" 

Ray cut him off. "Circles or squares, what's the dif? Yer the logical one,
not me! But where's yer logic now, huh? What the hell are you thinkin'?
Cuz I definitely do *not* get that whole apology idea!"  

"I have to talk to him. He's my friend, Ray," Ben said again, with a
terrible kind of patience. He kept repeating that over and over, like he
was talking to a kid or someone senile, and knew he'd never be understood.


That tone, plus the fact that Ben hadn't offered one good reason for it,
pissed Ray off even more. "Oh, well. That clears it up," he spat. "He's
yer friend. So what am I? Fuckin' chopped liver?"  

Fraser looked at him with a little frown, as if he was wondering if that
was a trick question, or if he was really expected to answer it.  

"Forget it!" Ray muttered. He threw his hands in the air and walked away.
Then he curled his left hand into a fist, and slammed it into the open
palm of his right, in sheer frustration. Jealousy was rising in him again,
hot, ugly jealousy he hadn't felt since that morning months ago when he'd
seen Vecchio put his arm around Fraser, when he'd assumed they were
lovers. He knew that wasn't true now. But he also knew that despite the
fact that Vecchio had almost killed him an hour ago, Ben was thinking of
that Ray now, and not of him. And it added tinder to the smoldering flames
of his rage. He paced a few steps away, then back, the tinder already
smoking. 

"How can ya still say Vecchio's yer friend?" he exploded. "He toldja to
get lost, that he never wants to see ya again! So I'd say he *was* yer
friend! WAS! He ain't anymore. Then there's the ugly little fact that he
attacked me. What're we gonna do about that? Huh?" 

Ben's only response was a slight wince.  

But it spoke volumes to Ray. Ben was in danger. In danger from crazy
Vecchio, but too blind to see it. In Ray's mind, Ben's friendship with the
Italian was rapidly assuming the proportions of a ticking time bomb.
Something he had to disconnect, before it killed them both. Of course, any
sane person would've considered their friendship over already, after what
had just happened. But not Ben. Oh, no. Vecchio came into his place in the
middle of the night, attacked his lover while they were both asleep,
threatened to kill him, then told him he never wanted to see him again
when he realized they were bi, and the crazy Canadian felt that *he* had
to tell Vecchio he was sorry!  

*Freak,* Ray thought, glowering at him across the room. He couldn't figure
it out. It just seemed like Ben had lost his mind now too, and he had to
look out for him. Be the Mountie's Mother Hen for a change. And the first
thing he had to do was convince him that talking to Vecchio wasn't a good
idea. So he kept at him. "What the hell was he doin' here, anyway?" he
demanded. Because he knew if he was going to talk Ben out of that, he had
to understand the crazy situation better himself.  

Fraser nodded towards something Ray hadn't noticeda small bag that sat on
his kitchen table. "It's sheet music," he said, very quietly. "The music
for a song I was going to sing at his wedding. He left it by the door. I
think he just came to deliver that." 

Ray couldn't believe it. "Sheet music? Vecchio came all the way over here
in the middle of the night, to deliver sheet music? THAT's what caused
this whole thing? I almost got whacked cuz he couldn't wait to give ya the
lyrics to "Feelings" or somethin'?" He shook his head. He couldn't take
that in. It was crazy. Everything Vecchio had done was crazy. Everything
about this whole mess was crazy. "Why the hell didn't he just give it to
ya at work today?" 

"I don't know, Ray. I'm sorry," Ben said.  

Ray shot a glance at him, and something in Ben's still, pale face reached
in under his breastbone and squeezed. For a moment, he forgot his anger.
Remembered that though he was the one Vecchio had grabbed, he wasn't the
only one he'd hurt. Not by a long shot. For a second, it even crossed his
mind that Ben might possibly hurt worse than he did. At least he had his
rage to keep him warm; but he wasn't sure what Ben was feeling. What he
was using to keep insanity at bay. He just knew that he looked cold. More
alone than he'd seen him look in months.  

He was just a few yards away, but it felt like miles. Ray swallowed hard.
Ben was going away from him. Every minute, every second, he was receding
further and further from him, like a tide going out to sea. He was
retreating inside himself again, behind the private walls he'd kept
between them for almost a year. 

Until that night when he'd finally broken, and kissed him. 

Ray remembered that night, and that kiss, with the vividness of sudden
desperation. He remembered how Ben had cried, and how those tears had
driven him to take a risk, to take Ben in his arms for the very first
time. How good it had felt to hold him. How Ben's leather jacket had
creaked in the silence, when he'd leaned towards him. How gentle his first
kiss had been. How his lips had trembled, and how those gentle lips had
shaken him. Rocked his world.  

That night seemed a million years ago now. Now, despite the way they'd
just fucked each other into happy exhaustion a few hours ago, he suddenly
feared that Ben might never kiss him again. The thought turned him cold.
*Vecchio did that,* he thought. *Put that distance between us again.* Ray
hated him for it. But he didn't know how to pull Ben back to him. How to
keep him from going away entirely. He wanted to tell him that everything
would be okay, but he couldn't. Nothing would be right between them again
until they got this straightened out. He couldn't lie about that. 

He still hadn't told Ben the whole truth about Rylanand there was no way
he was going to add to that weight on his conscience by letting this slide
by, too. He wasn't going to keep his rage all bottled up inside, even
though he knew that Ben wished he would. But he took a deep breath, trying
to tamp down his anger and pain long enough to force some rational words
out. Trying to reach out to Ben across the uncomfortable distance between
them. "Why'd he do it, Ben?" he asked, doing his best to keep his voice
calm. Not to let his fury spill out. "Why the hell did he think I raped
you? It's not like I had ya chained to yer bed! Not like I had a gun to
yer head! Hell, we weren't even DOIN' anything when he came in! We were
asleep!" 

Fraser winced again, but for different reasons this time.
"It's--complicated," he began. "I think Ray is deeply troubled--" 

Kowalski snorted. "Ya think? Deeply troubled, my ass! He's a fuckin'
lunatic!" 

Fraser ignored his outburst. "I think he's been that way ever since he got
back. That his undercover workdamaged him, in ways he hid from everyone.
Including me. You heard him call you Jimmy?" 

"Yeah. What the hell was up with that?" 

Fraser swallowed hard, and his gaze went blank. Turned inward. When he
spoke, his voice was remote, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. "I think
he mixed you up in his mind with James Maxwell. He was a contract killer
with the Iguanas, who tried to murder him on his undercover assignment." 

Ray stared at him in disbelief. "What? Ya mean he thinks I'M a wiseguy?
That's NUTS! I--" 

Fraser interrupted, in that same remote voice. "No. I mean, I don't think
he thinks you're actually a member of the Mafia. But I think you remind
him of Maxwell somehow. That you resemble him physically. And Maxwell was
evidently a rapist as well as a murderer." 

Ray's eyes narrowed. He didn't understand what Ben meant by 'evidently'.
It sounded like he'd known that Maxwell was a killer, but that he'd just
figured the rapist part out somehow, from what Vecchio had done tonight.
Ray didn't get the connection, or what it had to do with his attack; and
he didn't care. He was too angry to worry about the finer points of
Vecchio's psychosis, or Ben's diagnosis of it, at the moment. He was too
furious with the squirrelly Italian to even try figuring him out. "So what
yer tellin' me is, Vecchio the psycho thinks I'm a psycho too! That it,
Dr. Freud?" he asked, acidly sarcastic. 

"No. Of course he doesn't." Fraser shook his head, his voice more
insistent now. Not so distant. As if he'd come back from wherever he'd
gone away to in his head, and was now focusing on him again. On their
conversation. Ray supposed that might've been an improvement, if he wasn't
spouting such horseshit.  

"What I mean is, Ray doesn't think of you that way normally. He doesn't
think of you that way now, and he didn't before tonight, either. Didn't
think of you as actually being Maxwell before tonight, that is. I think
that for a few minutes, he just snapped." 

Ray wrinkled his brow, more confused than ever. "Huh?" 

"It's just that seeing us together--" Fraser broke off suddenly, as if his
voice failed him.  

Ray saw him swallow hard, and knew in that second that Vecchio's rage at
finding them together had wounded Ben as deeply as it had him. Maybe
deeper, because he and Vecchio wereor had beenbest friends. So he bit his
tongue, and didn't snap out another smart remark. 

Ben went on quietly, "He didn't know about us. I never told him, and I
thinkit deeply shocked him. Made him remember Maxwell. Made himslip back
into being Armando Langostini for a moment. That's why he thought you'd
forced me into having sex with you, why he asked me what you 'had on me'.
He confused you with Maxwell somehow. I think that's why he attacked you.
He was thinking of Maxwell, ofof things he'd done. So he thought you'd
hurt me. tpp. That you were blackmailing me. But it really has nothing do
to with you, Ray. It's my fault" 

"Bullshit!" Ray exploded. "Friend or not, he's nuts! NUTS! Too much multi
in the personality! Ya said so yerself. But that's not yer fault!" 

Fraser closed his eyes, rubbed an eyebrow with the back of his thumb the
way he always did when he was upset, and didn't answer. 

Ray didn't know what to say. He should've known Ben would react this way,
he always thought he was to blame for everything, but he still thought it
was beyond crazy. Vecchio had lost his mind, and that was Ben's fault,
because he'd never told him he was bi? His frustration mounted. The knots
in his stomach tightened until they hurt. "Yer the one it's got nothin' to
do with!" he burst out. "In case ya didn't notice, he was tryin' to kill
me! ME, not you!" 

Fraser opened his eyes at that, and sighed. "I know, Ray. I saw it," he
said. 

For just a second, Ray saw a flicker of anguish in his blue eyes. But then
Fraser looked away again. The flicker died, concealed behind a masklike
expression Ray couldn't read, and his anger rose. "Oh yeah? I'm startin'
to wonder," he growled. He knew he wasn't being fairBen wasn't indifferent
to the situation. He'd backed him up when it really counted. He'd
intervened on his behalf, had repeatedly begged Vecchio not to hurt him,
had even risked his own life by trying to jump him. But he was too angry
to take all that into account just now. All he could see was the way Ben
had bailed out on making Vecchio pay for it. "If ya saw it, how come ya
didn't back me up about arrestin' him for it? Last time I checked, what he
did's still a crime here, Fraser! Ya shove a piece in someone's mouth and
threaten to kill 'em, that's aggravated assault! Not to mention a hate
crime, him freakin' cuz he found out about you 'n' me--" 

"I know that too," the Mountie said in that same low voice. 

That made Ray even madder. Fraser's stubborn calm, his refusal to yell or
get upset, was driving him up the wall. And his refusal to look at him, to
even meet his eyes, made him feel savage. Not to mention confused and h
Humiliated. Ben's crazy friend had just tried to blow his brains out, but
Ben sat there like Vecchio had dropped by to ask them out to dinner!  

"Then why the hell din'tcha BACK ME UP?" he yelled again, infuriated by
Ben's coolness. By the fact that he hadn't really answered his question,
that he was avoiding the whole issue of Vecchio's guilt. Ray paced up and
down the floor, glowering, because he suspected he already knew why Ben
was doing that. 

"He didn't really hurt you, Ray," Fraser said at last. "And he thought he
was protecting me" 

"Oh, that is WEAK!" he yelled. "That is SO LAME! He didn't QUITE blow my
fuckin' head off, and it was all for a good cause anyway! He was
protectin' YOU! So I should just let it go? Izzat what yer sayin'?"  

Fraser shook his head. "Ray" 

But he was too furious to listen. He lashed out again, aiming below the
belt. "Hell, I don't even know why I'm surprised! After all, from what I
hear, he tried to shoot yer last lover, too! But he missed, so ya still
got his bullet in ya!" 

Fraser closed his eyes again. A faint shudder ran through him, and he
clasped his hands together so tightly that his knuckles went white. "He
thought she had a gun pointed at me," he said, and Ray could see how hard
it was for him to keep his voice even. "He thought he was protecting me.
It was an accident" 

"Sure! Just like tonight. Just like he *almost* accidentally -- blew a
hole in me, too!" Ray shot back scornfully. "Wake up an' smell the coffee,
Fraser! How many times is Vecchio gonna haveta shoot at yer lovers before
ya ditch the wacko?" 

"Ray, please!" Ben's voice wasn't even now. It was strained. Raw.  

For a moment, the pain in that quiet voice cut through Ray's rage. He
caught his breath as a memory ran through his mind. He heard himself
saying to Ben, "Tell me ya know I won't hurt ya." He felt a stab of guilt.
Of shame. He'd meant that when he said it -- he still did. But he hadn't
kept his promise, though not for lack of trying. Despite his intense pain
over the way he felt Ben had failed him, despite his renewed jealousy,
he'd managed not to punch him, or shove him again. He'd done at least that
much. But there are ways and ways to hit; and he'd been hurling angry
words at Ben ever since Vecchio left.  

He hesitated. Bit his lip. "Okay," he muttered. "'Kay. I'm sorry. I didn't
mean that" 

But his guilt didn't last long. When Ben stayed silent, his resentment
returned. Because Ben had failed him, after all. He'd stood by and let a
man who'd tried to kill him walk off scot free. And now he was doing
something even worse: asking him to let it go, too. So why the hell should
he apologize for being angry? He had every right to be! Hell, he'd be nuts
if he wasn't! 

Rage returned, scorching him, goading him to speak. Cruel, spiteful words
poured out of him, smoking with hate and jealousy. "Know what I think? I
think Vecchio's got a thing fer you!" he snarled. He was lyinghe didn't
really think that. Not anymore. But it was the only thing he'd said so far
that had gotten to Ben at all, so he pushed it. "That's why he always
hated me! He's fuckin' jealous! THAT'S why he whips out his gun every time
he knows yer sleepin' with someone! He wants to fuck ya himself, HE JUST
CAN'T ADMIT IT!" 

At that, a flicker of something like anger finally flared in the gentle
Canadian's eyes. Fraser was on his feet suddenly, at his side in another
half second. He grabbed him and shook him slightly, his eyes filled with
an anguish Kowalski somehow knew was for Vecchio's sake. "Stop it, Ray!
That's not true! You don't understand! You don't know what happened to
him--" 

That was true enough. He didn't know; but Fraser was about to tell him.
Ray sensed it. He'd been holding something back, but his words had finally
broken through his defensive walls somehow, and he was going to spill his
guts. But from the look on his face, it wasn't going to be anything he
wanted to hear. Just more shit about Vecchio. The horrors of his
undercover gig. It made Ray want to puke. Like he was supposed to feel
sorry for the crazy fuck who'd tried to waste him!  

"I DON'T CARE!" he shouted. "I don't wanna hear it! I don't care! I HATE
HIS FUCKIN' GUTS, AND I'M GONNA NAIL HIS ASS, IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!
YA GOT THAT?" 

Fraser did. In the ringing silence that followed, he sucked in a shaky
breath. His eyes went dark with anger. His hands tightened unconsciously
on Ray's arms. Kowalski felt a deeper wave of anger spread through him at
Ben's reaction. Fraser hadn't gotten excited when Vecchio had tried to
kill him, but let him threaten the Italian, and he got pissed in a second!
 

Enraged, his heart pounding, he felt his muscles tense with the urge to
hit something. He told himself desperately that it was Vecchio he was
really mad at, that it was Vecchio he wanted to hit. That he was never
going to hit Ben, no matter what. But Fraser's protectiveness towards
Vecchio had his fingers curling into fists. If he said one more word about
him, he was afraid he'd go ape shit. Lose it completely. Forget every vow
he'd made to himself about never touching Ben in anger again, and pop him
one. 

"Back off, Ben," he hissed through clenched teeth.  

"No." Fraser shook his head stubbornly. "Ray, please listen...." 

But Ray couldn't. As Ben hung onto him, another feeling shot through him,
that wasn't rage, but was just as heated. Ben's touch confused him. It
made half of him want to hitbut the other half was excited. He didn't
understand it. It hadn't been like that with Stella. When they'd fought,
it had killed his desire. But right now, with Ben, it was different. Even
in the midst of the worst fight they'd had since their breakup, he still
wanted him. So much that, if Ben didn't get away from him, he would 

He wasn't sure what he'd do. That was the problem. He was scared to touch
him while he was so angry. Didn't know what it would do to him, what form
rage would twist his desire into. It might melt away if he kissed Ben, as
his anger usually did; or it might grow even hotter. For a second, he
imagined throwing Ben onto his back on the bed. Covering his stubborn
mouth with his, making him shut upor maybe making love to him. 

But was love what it would be?	

Suddenly, without warning, Ray remembered Rylan. Rylan's cuffs, cold
around his aching wrists. Rylan stripping him from behind with strong,
determined hands, while he hung bloodied and helpless from his own
headboard, yelling hoarsely for him to stop. 

Ray's stomach lurched. Sickened, he thought, *Izzat what you want? Ya
wanna hurt Ben like that?* He shut his eyes, revolted. He was never going
to force so much as a kiss on Ben. No matter what. He didn't want him to
connect his touch with fear. With anything but love, passion and pleasure.


He felt like Ben's hands were on fire, like they were burning his bare
skin.  

"Let go o' me!" he snapped, confused by his own conflicting impulses.
Frightened that Rylan's kink might've rubbed off on him. He would've
pushed Ben away, but he'd learned his lesson about shoving him around
already, and he was doing his damnedest not to make that mistake again.
But he needed space. Breathing room. So he pulled Ben's hand off his arm,
and stumbled away from him. Got himself out of striking or kissing --
distance. Out of the danger zone. Because his love for Ben was even deeper
than his rage, and he didn't want this to make him do something he'd
regret. Something that would tear them apart. 

Ben took a step forward, as if to follow him. Ray shook his head
vehemently, not knowing what he would do if Ben touched him again. 

"No. Juststay there," he warned.  

Ben must've realized that he was close to breaking, because for once, he
obeyed him. Stayed where he was, and kept quiet. He bit back whatever he
was going to say about Ray Vecchio, and just stared at Ray. But his blue
eyes were anxious, and his breathing was unsteady. He was finally,
obviously agitated. 

Ray felt a kind of mean satisfaction at that, at the fact that he'd
finally cracked Fraser's goddamn superhuman calm. He knew how hard he'd
been trying to hold his emotions in check. But he also felt that it was
just a front. He suspected that ever since Vecchio left, Ben had been
clinging to a pretense of calm when he was really so cut up inside that he
didn't know what to do.  

The problem was, he was afraid that he knew what that meant, too. About
him and Vecchio, and their respective places in Fraser's heart. So just
cracking his calm wasn't enough. He'd kept his fists to himself, but he
was still too angry to keep his mouth shut. " He's gonna pay for this," he
repeated bitterly. "I ain't lettin' him off the hook for it, even if you
are." 

He paused deliberately after that. Waited for Fraser to say something.
Part of him had been waiting for that ever since Vecchio left, waiting for
the real Fraser to step forward. The law-abiding Mountie who hated to even
see people litter, or make a turn without signaling. The Fraser who would
never, ever condone or excuse attempted murder. The Fraser who he trusted,
who he leaned on. The Fraser who was his friend, his loverhis world.
Despite his own anger and shock, he gave him another chance to speak up.
To set things right. 

That was one of the reasons he'd kept hammering at this, trying to get Ben
to open up. He wanted to give him every chance to be a stand-up cop, to
come out of his shock-induced haze and do his duty. But Ben hadn't taken
them. He'd let all of them go by without comment. He didn't answer him
this time, either. 

Ray clenched his fingers so hard that they whitened, and dug into his
palm. "Guess it's pretty fuckin' clear who it is you really care about,"
he growled. Then he waited, once again, for Fraser to prove him wrong. To
show some of that famous "We always get our man" Mountie spirit, and agree
to go after Vecchio. Or at the very least, to get mad at him for using bad
language. 

But he didn't. He'd been swearing up a storm ever since Vecchio left, but
Ben hadn't said a word about it. When he didn't object to his latest curse
either, Ray's frustration soared off the scale. It was like Ben had been
replaced by this zombie guy, who wouldn't respond no matter which of his
buttons you pushed. He'd tried all of them in the last hour, without
result. 

He hated that he'd been reduced to this: to acting like a spoiled teenager
just to get Ben's attentionwhen it should've been his by right. Out of
love. But he hadn't felt any love coming from Ben since it happened.
Another thing that cut deep, that he didn't understand. "Fuck it!" he
hissed again. 

At that, Ben finally shot him a look. But he glanced away again without a
word, without rising to the bait. 

Ray stared at him, frustrated, enraged, and scared. He'd thought they'd
put all this behind them, but here they were again. Him and Ben, on
opposite sides of the big Italian fence that was Vecchio. This was all
Vecchio's fault. All of it: his fear, and Ben's drawn, tight look of guilt
and shame. He kept coming between them, in ways real or imagined.  

*I could kill him!* he raged inwardly. *First, I screw things up bein'
jealous o' him when we first get together. Wellmaybe that was mostly my
fault, but now that I finally got Ben back, he's right there in between us
again! And this time, he stuck his goddamn nose into it. Sneakin' in here
when we're in bed.... Barrin' Ben from his friggin' wedding, when he knows
how much bein' his best man means to him, cuz he found out we're bi.
Tellin' him they're not partners anymore! Makin' him feel guilty for bein'
with me! I SHOULD kill him!* 

His mind was a tangle of anger, pain, and fear. Things weren't over
between the three of them yet; and he was as scared of Vecchio's warning
to Ben to stay away as he had been of his gun. Because he knew Ben would
never do that. It just wasn't in him. Ben loved Vecchio, and he never let
go of the people he loved. He'd kept on loving Victoria Metcalf even after
she was imprisoned for eight years, he'd kept on loving Vecchio even after
he'd left him for a year without a wordand he'd kept on loving him, God
knew why, even after he'd shoved him, kicked his hat, and thrown him out. 


Ben was faithful as a wolf, once he gave his heart.  

The hell of it was, Vecchio knew that as well as he did. Ray was sure of
it. He was crazy, but he sure as hell wasn't stupid, and he'd known Fraser
a lot longer than he had. So Vecchio had to know that despite the way he'd
told him to fuck off, Fraser wouldn't let him go. Vecchio would know that
Ben would eventually go to him, hat in hand, blink those big blue eyes at
him, and beg Vecchio to take him back. And Ray knew that the Italian
would, despite what he'd said. Because in spite of his homophobia, in his
own way, Vecchio loved Fraser as much as he did. Hell, he'd been willing
to kill for him. You'd have to be blind not to know what that meant. 

*No way is he gonna cut Ben loose forever. It ain't gonna happen.*  

Vecchio would get over this. He'd take Ben back. Ray was sure of it. But
not for free. And it didn't take a genius to guess what price he'd make
Ben pay for getting his friendship back: him. Vecchio would ask Ben to
give him up. Stop seeing him, stop sleeping with him, stop loving himso
his goddamn Catholic conscience could be clear. So the big, macho tough
guy wouldn't have to deal with the fact that his best friend was bi.  

*Hell, this is Vecchio's perfect opening. His big chance to be rid o' me
fer good,* he thought. 

It made Ray want to hit. After he'd come to see him in the hospital, he'd
thought that maybe Vecchio had gotten over hating him. But obviously not.
That little gesture must've been Ben's idea. Vecchio had always hated him,
from day one. And now he was forcing Ben to choosebetween Vecchio and his
family, Vecchio and his new wifeand him. And Fraser had a history with
them that went way back. He'd loved them long before he ever met Stanley
Ray Kowalski. 

If push came to shove, this time, Ray figured he'd be the one who'd get
shoved. Not just out of Fraser's bed, but out of his life. 

So Ray paced, nervous as a cat. Sure, Fraser didn't give up on people he
lovednot ordinarily. But what if he loved two people who hated each other,
and the one he'd known the longest asked him to give up the other? What
would he do in that case? Ray didn't know, and it scared him to death. He
was afraid he was going to lose Ben again. For good this time. And not
because he'd done something stupid, either. Because Ray Vecchio had.  

*It ain't fair!* he thought bitterly. *Why should I have to pay for
Vecchio bein' nuts?* He moved further away from Ben and tried to catch his
breath. Put a lid on his explosive anger. Gather his thoughts. But all he
could think of was Fraser's stubborn, idiotic idea of apologizing to
Vecchio, and how that would ruin everything. How he'd lose him if he did.
He was sure if Ben ever talked to Vecchio again, Vecchio would demand that
he get rid of him. And what they had was so good, so perfect, he couldn't
bear the thought of losing it because Vecchio was a narrow-minded jerk.
"Yer not gonna apologize for not tellin' him about me, Fraser," he
repeated, circling the room. "Toldja, it's none o' his goddamn business!" 

Fraser wisely stayed a few feet away, but his eyes pleaded with him. "Ray,
will you sit down?" he asked, as if his pacing was making him nervous.
"Please! We need to sit down and discuss this rationally" 

"No!" he paced faster. "No talkin'. No discussion. Yer NOT gonna apologize
to someone who tried to kill me! It ain't gonna happen!"  

He couldn't *let* it happen. 

Fraser blew out an exasperated breath. "I don't intend to apologize for
that, Ray. Don't be silly. You don't understand" 

He paced some more. Up and down, up and down, his body unable to contain
the pressure rising inside him. "Yer damn right I don't. So tell me. Make
me understand, Fraser! Make me understand how that prick could bust into
your apartment while we were asleep" 

"That was my fault. The door wasn't locked, Ray. You know that--" 

"Okay then. Tell me how he could rip the covers off us like we were
goddamn fuckin' underage TEENAGERS, put a chokehold on me, throw me on the
floor and put his damn GUN in my mouth, and you still need to APOLOGIZE to
him!" 

That one was a bit harder. It gave even Fraser pause. He was silent for a
long moment. Finally, he said, "I'm not going to apologize for that, Ray.
That would make no sense." He bit his lip. "I'm not entirely sure if I can
explain it" 

"TRY!" 

Ben swallowed hard. "I don't think he came here meaning to hurt anyone,
but he was wrong to pull his gun on you, no matter what he thought you'd
done. I'm sorry for that. But I still need to talk to himabout you and I.
I want to apologize for not telling him about you, about us, sooner."  

"After what HE did? *He's* the one owes *us* an apology! Don'tcha get
that? Besides, he won't listen to ya!" Ray protested. "He doesn't wanna
hear it!" 

Fraser grimaced. "I'll grant you, he's disturbed right now. He's not
himself. But he's not insane. I can--" 

"How do you know?" Ray interrupted, confused. "How the HELL do you know
he's not crazy? Said yerself, he 'snapped'. Now yer tryin' to tell me he's
sane! Which is it?" 

Fraser set his jaw. "Just think, Ray. He could've killed you. He could
have, but he didn't. I do think he lost controlbut only for a few moments.
Once I told him what the situation was, he became himself again. He backed
down. That, at least, was the act of a rational man." 

Fraser kept harping on that, on how Vecchio hadn't really pulled the
trigger. But Ray didn't care. As far as he was concerned, that was about
as valid as the famous Twinkie defense. "Oh, yeah. That's real rational.
'Snappin' in and outta reality! Ya want we should give the prick a medal
cuz he 'snapped' back in just in time, before he killed me?" 

Fraser's eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry he hurt you, but please don't call him
that, Ray. He's my friend." 

He exploded. "Then what am I, Fraser? Huh? What am I? How can you sit
there, after you watched him try to whack me, and still say he's yer
friend?" 

Ben opened his mouth to answer, but Ray cut him off again, too furious to
listen.  

"Who're you gonna back up here? Yer friend or yer lover? Don'tcha get it,
Fraser? HIS FINGER WAS ON THE TRIGGER! HE WAS GONNA KILL ME! OR DON'T YOU
GIVE A FUCK?"  

He suddenly realized that he was screaming again. He stopped. Took a deep
breath. Told himself he was being childish. Unfair. Fraser *did* care
about him, he knew that. He cared so much that he'd tried to save his life
at the risk of his ownso much that he'd told Vecchio he loved him, too,
knowing what that would do to their friendship. In fact, Ray figured Ben
had saved his life. In that deadly moment when Vecchio's finger had
tightened on the trigger, he felt that Ben's words, his frantic
declarations of love for him, were all that had kept him from pulling it.
The only reason Vecchio hadn't wasted him was because he didn't want to
hurt Ben. If Ben hadn't kept saying the L word, he would've been toast.  

Still, Ray wasn't sorry for what he'd said. Ben needed to hear it, because
after all he'd done to him, to them, he couldn't understand how all he
could talk about was apologizing to fucking crazy Vecchio, his would-be
murderer. It didn't seem right to him, not for any reason. By trying to
kill him, Vecchio had stepped over the line. Way over. He didn't deserve
any apologies, he *deserved* to have his ass thrown in jail! 

So he waited, one last time, for Fraser to realize that. Or at least to
reach out to him. To hold him and tell him he really did love him after
all, like he'd claimed he did, and that even Ray Vecchio couldn't break
them up. To tell him that somehow, some way, they'd find their way through
this mess together. He waited for Ben to include him, instead of acting
like this was something had happened to *him*, when Ray had been the one
naked on the floor with Vecchio's gun jammed in his teeth. 

But Fraser didn't do any of those things. Didn't reach out to him, didn't
even come a step closer. He just stared at him, his blue eyes tormented,
and whispered, "Is that what you think, Ray?"  

That cut Ray to the bone. "What the hell am I sposed to think?" he
sputtered. "Only thing I can figure is, ya wanna apologize cuz ya just
don't give a fuck about me. Cuz he means more to ya than I do!" The words
came out angry. Belligerent. He wondered if Ben knew how much it hurt him
to say them. That he could hardly force them past the lump in his throat. 

"That's not true. Don't do this to me, Ray," Ben ground out, in a voice
that was hardly more than a whisper.  

Ray knew what he was talking about, what he couldn't bring himself to say:
"Don't make me choose between you." And that terrified him too, because he
thought he knew who Ben would choose. Why else would he be acting this
way, as if his life was over just because Vecchio didn't want to be
friends with him anymore? "That's the point!" he growled. "I'M not the one
who did anything, Fraser. I'm the one who was attacked! Remember? I'm the
victim, not the perp! I should've gone down to the 29th by now, and
charged yer buddy with assault!" 

Fraser's shoulders tightened. "You have the right to, of course," he said,
in a stiff voice.  

Ray looked at him intently. Giving him one last chance. "If I did, wouldja
back me up? Give a statement too?" 

Fraser closed his eyes. "Yes," he said tonelessly, after a long moment. 

Ray supposed he should've been happy with that. Up till then, Fraser had
refused to do even that much. At least he was giving him some kind of
support, at last. Or was he? He stared at him, searched his eyes. All he
saw there was duty--mixed with fear and pain. He knew what that meant. Ben
would go along with it because it was his duty, and because his freaky
Fraser/Mountie genes wouldn't let him liebut not because he loved him. The
agony on his pale face told Ray what a price he'd pay if he forced him to
swear out a statement against Vecchio. Fraser would do his duty all right,
but things would be over between them.	

*I'd lose him,* he thought. 

Maybe he'd known that from the beginning. Though he'd ranted and raved
about turning Vecchio in, had threatened to do it several times, he'd just
been using that to try to break Fraser out of his shell, to get him to
talk. He hadn't seriously intended to go to the 29th and swear out a
complaint. But he doubted Ben realized that. His anger was too real, too
raw, for Ben to think he didn't mean what he'd said. 

*Dammit!* he thought, raging helplessly. *Don'tcha know why I didn't do it
already? Don'tcha know?* But he couldn't say it. Because it frightened
him, loving Ben that much. So much that he was probably going to let it
go. Let fucking crazy Vecchio off the hook for putting his gun in his
mouth, for trying to kill him, just because he knew what it would do to
Ben if he hauled his ass up on charges. 

*Hell, maybe Vecchio isn't the only one who's nuts,* he thought grimly.
*Cuz what if he changes his mind? What if he 'snaps', and comes after me
again?* If Vecchio was as crazy as Ben said, then letting him off the hook
might cost him his life. His mouth twisted wryly. *Vecchio isn't the only
one who's willing to risk everything for Ben.* He wondered if the Mountie
had a clue about that. Wondered, too, why Ben didn't seem to feel the same
way about him all of a sudden. Even though he'd said he was his. Even
though Ray had believed it. 

"Aww, screw it!" he snarled, choking on it. He pulled on his T-shirt and
jacket, snatched his car keys up off of Fraser's kitchen table and headed
for the door, emptied of words. Emptied of everything except his burning
fury, and hopeless love for a guy who seemed to care more for his best
friend than for him.  

But with every step he took across the floor, something inside him was
still waiting. For Fraser to grab his arm. Call him back. Show some sign
that he still loved him. 

But Fraser didn't say a word. 

Walking out didn't seem like such a bad idea, then. Cuz Ben had already
gone away. 

**************************************************************************
******** 

To say that Ray left in a huff would've been a vast understatement. He
strode out the door livid, raging, and slammed it so hard behind him that
the whole apartment shook. And oh, the echo! Sharp and hard, like the
sound of a gunshot, the gunshot that almost was. It cut through Ben so
that for a moment, he couldn't move. He just stood there, eyes closed,
accepting it for the stinging rebuke that it was.  

Ray had left him. He hadn't tried to prevent it, because it would've been
futile. Like trying to stop a force of nature. He'd learned the hard way
that when Kowalski got that enraged, it was better to say little. Better
not to argue with him. Best to stand back and let him blow, like a
volcano.  

He'd seen the explosion coming. Anger had begun seething in Kowalski's
light blue eyes when he'd tried to explain Ray Vecchio's brutal actions.
It grew hotter, bubbled and hissed when they argued about his desire to
apologize to Vecchio, and built to a towering peak of fury when he tried
to tell him that the attack had been caused by what had happened to Ray
while he was undercover. Kowalski didn't want to hear that. It had made
veins bulge in his forehead. He didn't want to hear anything from him, it
seemed, but the words, "Yes, I will sign a statement against him. I will
help you put my best friend in jail." But even when he finally gave in and
said that, it wasn't enough. He'd stormed out anyway. And though he'd
longed to call him back, to make him stay, he'd thought that if he tried,
Ray would strike him.  

Fraser didn't want to risk it. He was still reeling from the dire events
of the last few hours. He didn't feel strong enough to place himself, like
a piece of flotsam, in the direct path of the raging river of Ray's fury.
Wasn't willing to get swept away by it, to be hurt even more by it. After
all, Ray had shoved him and kicked his hat not long ago, over far less
than this. So rather than risk another violent confrontation, this time
between Ray and himself, he'd let him go.  

Now, he stood wondering if he'd done the right thing. *Maybe,* he thought
gloomily, *I should've let Ray hit me.* He wasn't at all sure that he
didn't deserve that. Because he should've backed him up earlier about
arresting Vecchio. He knew that. Ray saw his failure to do that as a lack
of loyalty, even as evidence that he cared more for Vecchio than for him. 

But it wasn't true. Why couldn't he see that he loved both of them in
different ways? Ray was his lover, but Vecchio was like a brother to him.
If he helped Ray to arrest him almost on the eve of his wedding, it might
destroy him; and he couldn't risk that.  

For a cop, being arrested would be bad enough. But if he agreed to Ray
Kowalski's desire to pursue revenge through the justice system, that
wasn't all the damage that would be done to Vecchio. Ben didn't know if
Kowalski had thought about this, or if he was too angry to care, but he
knew that Vecchio would probably also lose his fiance, if they charged him
with aggravated assault. It wasn't a felony, just a misdemeanor, but he'd
still be put in jail. He'd still have to have someone bail him out, then
face trial. Which might wreck his marriage plans. Though Fraser trusted
Serena, he didn't know her that well. Didn't know if her love for Ray
Vecchio was strong enough to survive learning that he'd been arrestedor
the reasons behind it. Let alone the public scandal of a trial. That
would've been a lot to ask of any woman. 

What if she left him because of it? Fraser knew that Serena had become
essential to Ray. He loved her deeply. Given the uncertainty of his
current mental state, and his guilt over his misguided attack on Kowalski,
Ben wasn't at all sure what he would do if he was turned in by his best
friend, then lost his reputation and Serena as well, because of it. All of
that might be enough to push him over the edge. Vecchio might become
desperateeven suicidal. He was the only one who knew how close Ray had
come to that once before, after Irene Zuko died.  

*I won't be the cause of Ray Vecchio's death,* he thought, chilled to the
bone by the very idea of it. Granted, that was a worst case scenario, but
look at the tragedy that had played itself out after he'd turned in
Victoria Metcalf, in the name of justice. He'd never dreamed that doing
his duty could wreak such havoc on his life, and the lives of everyone he
cared for. But now he knew what a toll a blind devotion to justice could
take. And as he'd once told Ray, he didn't ever want to make that mistake
again. 

But he didn't want to lose Kowalski, eitheror pretend that he hadn't
witnessed a crime, just because the perpetrator was his friend. For the
second time in his life, Ben felt a profound confusion as to where his
duty really lay.  

There was no doubt where his heart was. *I almost lost Ray.* 

It was all he could think, all he'd been able to think since Vecchio had
left his apartment, carrying the gun he'd almost used to end Ray
Kowalski's life. His Ray. His love. His sweet, tender, volatile, wondrous
Ray had almost been killedby his other Ray, who he also loved.	

Even now, Fraser could hardly believe it. While the incident had unfolded,
he'd responded instinctively, driven by a need to protect his lover. But
once Vecchio had gone, he'd turned cold. He'd put his clothes on, but he
still couldn't get warm. He'd sat shivering in a chair, nearly speechless
with horror, as he thought of how close Ray had come to dying. How close
he himself had come to losing the love of his life. He knew he hadn't
reacted well, hadn't handled Ray's subsequent, justified fury and desire
for legal retribution well at all; but he couldn't. He was still too
deeply in shock. He was used to violence in the course of his job, but
between those he loved, it was unthinkable. Unbearable.  

Yet it had happened. His best friend had almost murdered his lover. Had
thrown him to the floor naked, put a gun in his mouth and almost pulled
the trigger, because he thought Kowalski had somehow blackmailed him into
having sex, that he'd raped him. And Vecchio had thought that partly
because he hadn't been honest with him. Because he'd never told him that
he was sometimes attracted to men, or that he and Kowalski were lovers.
Because even when Vecchio had spotted a hickey Kowalski had left on his
neck, he'd let him thinkled him to thinkit had been put there by a woman. 

*Why did I do that?* 

Ben pressed the heels of his hands over his eyes, as if he could somehow
shut out the knowledge of his own guilt. But it didn't work. He'd known it
was wrong to mislead Ray Vecchio about his love affair with Ray. He didn't
tell lies, and that was, if not a lie of commission, then most certainly
one of omission. But he'd soothed his uneasy conscience by telling himself
that it was a small enough deception. A sort of white lie, at most. He'd
never guessed how that 'little white lie' would come back to haunt him.
When Kowalski had left him, it had even seemed a moot point, because he'd
never really thought he would return. And they'd been back together for
such a short time, for only a few days.... There hadn't been time to deal
with the problems their relationship would cause with others yet. They
were too busy rebuilding it. They'd both been in such a happy haze, lost
in their own private, sensual, erotic world whenever they were together,
that he'd forgotten all about it. He hadn't even thought about how he
would explain Kowalski to Ray Vecchio. He'd been too busy reveling in his
caresses, in his love, to worry about the outside world. 

Now it was too late. Now he knew that it hadn't been either a white lie or
a moot point. It was hugely important. In retrospect, he realized that
he'd been a fool. He'd thought his time in Chicago had made him wise to
new ways, urban waysbut maybe what it had really done was corrupt him.
Because he'd tried to deceive his best friend, in order to retain his
affection. But lies were always discovered in the end; and when they were,
they often did irreparable damage. His 'little white lie' had blown up
viciouslynot just in his face, but in Ray Kowalski's as well. Because he'd
deceived Ray Vecchio in that way, and never bothered to tell him the truth
later on, for the second time in the space of a month, Ray Kowalski had
nearly died.  

And as if that weren't enough, Fraser also knew that he wasn't the only
one who'd been keeping secrets.  

Ray Vecchio had hidden a terrible one of his own. He'd been raped by James
Maxwell. Fraser knew it. He'd seen the pure, soul-deep hatred in his eyes
when he'd put his gun in Ray Kowalski's mouth, when he'd asked, "What's he
got on you, Benny?" Heard the hatred in his voice when he'd called Ray
"Jimmy" and asked him, "How does it feel to be the helpless one now?" It
was clear to him that Ray was reliving his own rape at Maxwell's
handstrying to take revenge for it. 

There had been other clues, too, that something was deeply wrong with Ray:
his uncharacteristic savagery, his ruthlessness, the way he'd addressed
him as "Mountie" several times, as if they were relative strangers.... The
man who'd tried to kill Ray Kowalski was so different from Ray Vecchio
that it had seemed as if a stranger had somehow temporarily taken over
Vecchio's body.  

But not a total stranger. Not to him, anyway. Fraser had seen that 'other
Ray', that cold, ruthless persona once before: at breakfast, the morning
Ray had returned from his year in the Mafia. That was the one time Ray had
shown him his alter ego, 'Armando Langostini'; and though their
conversation was brief, it had been so chilling that he'd never forgotten
it.  

During the attack on Kowalski, he'd recognized Armandoand more. Danger had
set his mind racing at top speed, and other clues had fallen into place,
like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle fitting together. He'd remembered the dark
look on Ray Vecchio's face the morning of his return, his intuition that
something unspeakable had happened to him, Serena's hint that Maxwell had
done something terrible when he'd learned that Ray was in love with her,
and Vecchio's strange, almost instantaneous dislike of Ray Kowalski. He
hadn't understood any of that before, but when Vecchio pulled his gun on
Kowalski, he did. In a moment of revelation, he saw that Armando
Langostini's persona had surfaced inside Ray, that he was prepared to
kill--and he understood why. Memories, hints and instinct had all
coalesced, in Fraser's mind, into a dark picture of Ray's hidden life in
the Iguana family.  

Fraser vividly recalled Ray's chilling description of James Maxwell, aka
"Jimmy the Crusher", a fellow contract killer for the Iguanas. He'd said
that Maxwell had tried to kill him, and it was clear that Ray both hated
and feared the man. Since he'd called Kowalski "Jimmy" when he'd
threatened him, it followed that Maxwell must be the "Jimmy" he meant, and
that Ray must physically resemble Maxwell, enough to have disturbed the
Italian from the startwhich explained Vecchio's puzzling antipathy to
Kowalski when they first met. That, plus Vecchio's reference to sexual
blackmail, and the fact that he'd leapt to the conclusion that Ray had
forced him into having sex, spoke volumes to Ben. Ray must've attacked
Kowalski partly because he reminded him of a man who'd terrorized him
sexually.  

Fraser could only guess at the details. Perhaps Maxwell was gay, had
wanted Ray/Armando, and when he'd learned of Ray Vecchio's love for
Serena, had threatened to kill her if Ray didn't sleep with him. The only
thing he was sure of was that Maxwell hadn't just tried to kill Ray; he'd
blackmailed and sexually violated him, too. That had to be the source of
the torment he'd sensed in him when he'd first returned from Arizona.  

Fraser wished, desperately and far too late, that he'd tried harder to get
Ray to open up to him about his pain back then. But he'd let it go, partly
because he was so depressed when Kowalski left him, but also because he
was convinced that Ray's happiness with Serena had helped him to forget
his terrible time with the Iguanas.  

But he'd been wrong. Ray hadn't forgotten, he'd just pretended to. All
that darkness had evidently been festering in his soul, because when he'd
walked in and discovered him in bed with Kowalski, it had resurfaced with
a vengeance. He guessed that the shock of seeing them together must've
triggered some sort of traumatic flashback to his rape by Maxwell.
Something so abhorrent that Ray didn't want to face it, and couldn't
function; so Armando Langostini had surfaced to take control. Fraser could
only guess at the mechanics of Ray's momentary breakdown, but he did know
such things were possible. He'd read about them during his tenure with law
enforcement. 

Unfortunately, his understanding of the reasons for the tragedy only
reinforced his sense that he was at least partly responsible for it.  

He felt so guilty about it, so ashamed, that he'd hardly been able to look
Kowalski in the eye since the assault. He'd wanted to make a home for Ray
with him, a safe haven where they could be together, and where the
violence of his job and the pain of the outside world could never touch
him. Instead, he'd almost gotten him killed. His failure to tell Ray
Vecchio the truth, plus his careless habit of never locking his door
because Dief was always with him, had almost had fatal consequences. He'd
failed Ray Kowalski in the worst way.  

Worse yet, he hadn't been able to confess his guilt to Rayor to talk
sensibly to him about it about all. After Vecchio left, he'd been frozen,
almost paralyzed with shock and shame. Ray had been just the opposite:
enraged, vengeful, almost climbing the walls in his fury. Fire to his ice.
The combination had been disastrous. He hadn't been able to calm Ray down,
to soothe his ire so they could discuss the subject rationally, the way
he'd wanted to, because he hadn't been calm himself. Far from it. He'd
been keenly aware of Ray's fury, frightened of what he might do to avenge
it, and sick with guilt over lying to Vecchio about him. Of what Kowalski
might do if he ever found out about that lie....  

Most of all, he'd been so frightened at the way he'd almost lost him, that
he couldn't talk much at all. He'd sat there nearly mute while Ray raged
around him, snarling and snapping at him, wild with fury. Perversely, he'd
never loved him more. Had never even realized, until the moment when he'd
wakened to find Ray helpless on the floor with Ray Vecchio's gun in his
mouth, just how very much he did love him. How empty his world would be
without him. He would've thrown himself on Vecchio's gun in a heartbeat,
would've gladly taken a bullet himself, to save Kowalski's life. He'd been
about to do just that when Vecchio turned and saw him, and warned him off.
He still would've done it, if he hadn't been too far away to reach him in
one leap. If he hadn't known that Armando Langostini would likely shoot
him first, then kill Ray anyway, afterwards. 

He wasn't sure, even now, just what had saved Kowalski. Fraser didn't know
exactly what he'd said, in the critical moment when he'd seen Vecchio's
finger tighten on the trigger. He knew he'd pleaded for Ray's life, but
he'd been so totally terrified that the details were blurred. All he could
remember was saying, "I love him," over and over. It seemed unlikely that
that had turned Vecchio from his deadly purpose, though. He didn't know if
it had been anything he'd said at all. All he was certain of was that Ray
had suddenly come to his senses. His green eyes had finally lost their
strangeness, that look of dreadful ruthlessness. They'd gone wide and
shocked looking, and in that instant when he'd finally lowered his gun,
Ben had known that it was Ray Vecchio looking at him once again. That
Armando Langostini was gone.  

But then, just when relief had washed over him, another cruel blow had
fallen. "We're not partners anymore," Ray had said. "You don't come to my
wedding. Stay away from me and my family...." His best friend had utterly
rejected him and his lover. 

Fraser hadn't had time, yet, to deal with the pain those words had
inflicted. Because after Vecchio left, he'd thought only of Ray. How
precious he was, and how he'd almost gotten him killed through his
cowardice. He'd longed to hug him, to take him in his arms and comfort
him, but Ray was so infuriated, his body so tense, that touching him
seemed dangerous. More likely to elicit a punch than an answering caress.
With guilt riding his shoulders, his eyes had filled with tears that he
hadn't wanted Kowalski to see. So he'd stayed as far away as he could.
Avoided looking at him. Didn't say more than he had to. Which was probably
wise, because the few words he had managed to choke out had only served to
upset Ray even more.  

It seemed bleakly ironic that the one thing Ray didn't blame him for was
the thing that had nearly gotten him killed. He seemed to feel that he
hadn't been wrong to hide their relationship from Ray Vecchio. He'd said
that it was none of his business. So he'd been given a reprieve on that
score. But Fraser suspected that it was only temporary. That Ray was
probably too upset to have given the matter full consideration yet. Once
he did, he might begin to wonder if he'd had other reasons for keeping
silent. Though Ray had heard him tell Vecchio that he'd kept their love a
secret for fear that he'd lose his friendship, Kowalski might decide that
wasn't his real motive for keeping silent. Given his tendency towards
insecurity, he might decide that he'd kept quiet about their relationship
because he was ashamed of himand he might leave him again. For good this
time. Forever.	

*Perhaps,* Fraser thought bleakly, *he already has.* After all, Ray had
stormed out without saying a word about where he was going. Or when, or
if, he was ever coming back. That possibility filled him with dread, like
the rising of a cold, dark tide inside him. He couldn't help remembering
the chill he'd felt at Ray Vecchio's returnhow it had both gladdened and
scared him, because he'd sensed that it would someday bring him to this.
That Vecchio would force him to make a choice between the two people he
loved most in the world: his two Rays. 

Then againmaybe Kowalski had spared him that. Maybe he'd just made the
choice for him.  

*Oh, God.* 

Fraser bit his lip, jammed his hands against his aching forehead as
another, even darker possibility occurred to him. Maybe some hidden,
masochistic part of him had wanted Ray to do that. Maybe he'd kept silent
because he'd known that would enrage Ray even further. Had he deliberately
tried to push him away? To make him leave, to punish himself for the lie
that had nearly cost Ray his life? The idea frightened him.  

Was this what life in Chicago had done to him? Taught him to lie so well
that even he no longer understood the real motives behind his own actions,
until it was too late? 

Fraser prayed that wasn't true. *Ray promised me,* he thought. Clinging to
hope. Grasping at straws. Trusting Ray Kowalski more, now, than he trusted
himself. *He said that he wouldn't hurt me. Even if I made a serious
mistake. And he promised that he wouldn't leave me again.* 

Yet it seemed that Ray had done both those things tonight. 

He supposed he should've been angry. But searching his heart, he found no
resentment towards his lover there. After all, Ray had made those promises
to him in good faith. But neither of them could possibly have foreseen
that something like this would happen. The scene in his apartment tonight
had been so violent, so unexpected, that he couldn't blame Ray for
reacting strongly to it. He'd nearly been killed in his bed; and because
of mistakes Ben himself had made. Unarmed and taken by surprise, Ben had
been helpless to stop it. All he could do was prevent Kowalski from
exacerbating the already dangerous situation by beating Vecchio for it
afterwards. 

But Ray hadn't appreciated his attempt to defuse the situation. He'd been
furious with him for preventing the fist fight he'd wanted with Vecchio.
Was enraged that he still cared for Vecchio, that he didn't want to turn
him in, in spite of what he'd done. He understood why that would upset
him, but it was extremely difficult for him to aid in charging his best
friend with assault when he thought he'd been acting in his defense. If
he'd thought Vecchio was a real danger to the community, or any further
danger to Kowalski, he would've forced himself to do itbut he didn't
believe that he was. The only reason he'd drawn his gun on Kowalski was
because he'd walked into a situation with his own best friend that
mirrored his dark, hidden past and aroused emotions so extreme that they
caused a temporary mental lapse. The odds against that happening again
with anyone else were 

Well, they had to be enormous. Ordinarily, he would've calculated them,
but at the moment, he was too upset. He just told himself that they had to
be beyond astronomical, and let it go at that. 

He based those odds on his bone-deep knowledge of Ray Vecchio. They'd been
more than friends, more like brothers. He *knew* Ray, and he'd seen the
guilt in his green eyes once he'd realized the enormity of his mistake.
He'd seen the shame, and he'd known in his bones that Vecchio probably
wouldn't be able to so much as look at his gun again for some time.
Vecchio wasn't the crazed maniac that Kowalski thought he was. In fact,
Fraser suspected that he was walking the floor somewhere right now, in
agony over what he'd just done, over the fact that he'd nearly committed a
deadly crime for the wrong reasons.  

*Out of love for me.* 

He hated the fact that his best friend's affection for him had led him to
assault his lover, but it was true. That was why Fraser wanted to talk
things out with Ray Vecchio, why he wanted to apologizeand more. They had
been best friends for years, and he couldn't just throw that away. He
hadn't mentioned it to Kowalski for fear of angering him further, but
despite what Vecchio had done, despite his angry rejection, he also wanted
to see him again so that he could convince him to get some help.
Psychologic counseling. It was obvious that he needed it. Ray had suffered
terribly, he'd been raped and almost murdered. His problems went deep, and
they hadn't been solved either by time, or his love for Serena. He needed
some help to get over them, but Ben knew it was extremely unlikely that
he'd get that help on his own. So he wanted to talk him into it. Felt he
was obligated to do so, since it was extremely unlikely that anyone else
but he and Ray Kowalski even knew they existed; and Kowalski wanted to
prosecute Ray, rather than help him. 

In the meantime, despite what he'd done to them, Ben didn't want to hurt
him more than he'd already been hurt. 

But Ray Kowalski didn't understand that. He didn't want to hear about the
horrors Ray must've undergone during his time with the Iguanashe was too
angry to care. He also didn't understand that he still loved Ray Vecchio
as a friend, just as he would've still loved Kowalski, if he'd almost
killed someone on his behalf. The blond detective was too jealous to want
to see that, and Ben didn't know how to explain it, how to make him
understand those things. So although Kowalski's leaving had hurt, he
hadn't tried to prevent it. Under the circumstances, he could hardly blame
Ray for wanting to get out of his apartment, and away from him, for
awhile. 

He didn't blame Ray for anything. Oh, no. He blamed himself.  

Hoping that Ray hadn't left him forever, Ben went to his window and stared
out into the darkness. With all that had happened, he felt a vague sense
of surprise. It wasn't even dawn, yet already, his world had changed. 

**************************************************************************
*******  

Ray spent the day alone. First he paced the floor in his apartment, as per
usual. Raging about Ben and Vecchio. Mostly Vecchio. He started making a
mental list of the reasons he hated him.   Cuz he attacked me.	Cuz he
found out about me and Ben. Cuz he came between us again; and  Cuz he's a
Style Pig.  

Making the list was almost too easy. Hell, given time, he could've racked
up reasons E through Z, why Vecchio should cease to exist. But Ben wasn't
exactly at the top of his list of favorite people either, for taking
Vecchio's side in the whole thing. 

*He lied to me,* he thought, still seething. *Said he loved me, but he
really loves Vecchio. Loves him more 'n me, anyway. Said he'd swear out a
complaint against him, but he doesn't really wanna. Liar!* 

He paced and paced, letting it burn in his gut, until a little voice in
his head said, "But you never lie, do you? What about Stella? And Rylan?*
Then, last but certainly not least, *What about Ben?* 

He stopped in mid-stride. Flinched as it hit him: all three of the most
important relationships he'd had were based on lies. Stella, Rylan, and
Benhe'd lied to all of them. Let Stella think he was a teenage hero in
that bank, instead of a coward. Let Rylan fuck him, and even told him he
liked it when he didn't, when he hated it and all he'd been thinking about
the whole time was Ben. Last but not least, he'd let Ben think he was a
stand-up cop, and that Rylan had just died protecting him because they
were partnersnot because he'd fallen in love with him. Not because his
indifference had made Pat desperate. Not because things between them had
gotten so screwed up that Pat tried to rape him.  

"Shit," he swore softly. 

He tried to shove the uncomfortable insight away. Didn't want to pursue
it. Didn't even want to admit that it was true. Wanted to shove it down
into a deep, dark hole inside of him, and go back to being mad at Ben and
Vecchio. But that little voice just kept on whispering to him. *You wanna
hate Vecchio as much as he wants to hate you.*	

Whoa. Intruder alert. Another unwanted bulletin from his goddamn
conscience.  

*That ain't true!* he argued with it. *Who asked ya?*  

But it wouldn't shut up. It kept nagging at him, like Stella on a bad day.
Telling him stuff he didn't want to hear. Like maybe he wanted it that way
for the same reason Vecchio did: cuz he wanted Ben all to himself. Cuz he
didn't want Vecchio coming between them again. About anything. Ever. Maybe
that was the real reason he'd pushed Ben so hard to back him up on turning
Vecchio in. He didn't just want revenge, he'd wanted to get Vecchio out of
Ben's life permanently. Two birds with one stone. Deep down, he'd figured
that if Ben signed a statement against Vecchio, that would be it between
them. The Italian would never take him back; and after that, Ben probably
wouldn't even dare to ask him.	

In one crazy second, he saw the secret agenda he'd hidden under his self
righteous anger: he'd wanted to totally destroy Ben's friendship with
Vecchio. It was in tatters now anyway, and he'd wanted to blow the last of
it away. Cuz he was afraid of Ben loving someone else that much, even as a
friend. He'd wanted to get rid of Vecchio, so he could have Ben all to
himself. He was *that* selfish. That cruel. That needy. 

God, the crap inside of him.  

Ray's heart sank. He shook his head. *Jeez. How sick is that?* he asked
himself. *Yer like a selfish little kid. Don't want the Mountie to play
with anybody but you. And I thought Vecchio was crazy! Hell, we're just
the same. More alike than I knew.* 

Once he started listening to that annoying little voice inside him, other
fears and griefs he'd been avoiding rose to the surface. He thought about
what Pat might've become if he'd lived. About what *he'd* become, after
getting involved with him. Why he hadn't told Ben everything about the way
he died yet. What he might become again, if he lost Ben. About Vecchio,
and why he'd pulled a gun on him. Why he'd called him Jimmy. What
*Vecchio* had become.  

But most of all, he kept reliving the attack in his head. Every ugly
minute of it. If it'd been a total stranger, he could've handled it
better. But it had been goddamn fucking *humiliating*, being thrown naked
onto the floor -- caught like a green rookie, made to look like a total,
candy-ass wimp in front of his lover -- by a fellow cop who was Ben's best
buddy. It didn't fucking *get* worse than that. He hadn't been able to
stop it, or even say a word, cuz Vecchio's piece was jammed in his teeth
almost before he got his eyes open. Cuz Vecchio's hand was wrapped around
his throat. Cutting off his breath. And the look in Vecchio's eyes: pure,
smoking green hatred. It'd felt *personal*. 

It had felt like death.  

It'd terrified him. He'd been angry too, so pissed off that he'd bit down
on the barrel of the Italian's gun. But underneath it, he'd been scared
shitless. He didn't have a chance, and he'd known it. He'd just lain
there, toughing it out, waiting for Vecchio to pull the trigger and blow
his brains out. But on the inside, where no one could hear him, he'd been
screaming. 

No, no, NO! Please no, not now	

Cuz he'd just found something to live for. The best thing he'd ever had.
The love of his life. He didn't want to die, now that he'd found Ben. And
he'd been scared for Ben too, because he knew what it would do to him if
the bastard killed him.  

But he'd lived. Against all odds, Vecchio hadn't pulled the trigger. He
was still here. 

So how come he didn't feel good? *Hell, I should be flyin' high. Glad I'm
still alive and kickin'.* It was just hard to feel that way when Ben
didn't really seem to care. When the only person he seemed to be worried
about was Vecchio.  

Every time Ray thought about that, it was like being stabbed. But he
couldn't stop. 

As the morning wore on, his thoughts circled, going nowhere. The incident
kept playing in his head, like a video he couldn't shut off. He was still
too angry to make sense of it all, and his apartment was too small. Too
confining. He didn't want walls around him anymore. He wanted sun on his
face. Fresh airor at least what passed for that in Chicago.  

*Gotta get out. Clear my head.*  

So he grabbed his car keys, got in the GTO and took off. Didn't know where
he was going. Didn't care. He ended up at the lake. Walked along staring
out over the water while he thought some more. Somehow, as he rested his
eyes on its blue, shimmering surface, his fury started to ebb. Slowly,
gradually, as he walked along with the wind teasing his hair and tourists
strolling by him, the tightness in his chest eased. He could think again,
instead of just wanting to hit.  

Going over and over it in his head wasn't gonna do jack squat for any of
them. Instead of reliving the incident and chewing on his rage, he tried
to look at it logically, like Ben would. *Okay, so Vecchio found out about
us. Tried to kill me. That's over with now. Doneski. What I gotta figure
out now is what I'm gonna do about it.* 

He'd already half decided that he was going to let it go for Ben's sake.
But now that he thought it over, that gave him an uneasy feeling. It felt
too much like taking the easy way out, so he could smooth things over with
Ben. But he was a cop; he couldn't afford to think like that.  

*What if Ben's wrong about Vecchio not bein' dangerous anymore? What if I
let him off cuz I don't wanna hurt Ben, and then he 'snaps' on someone
else, and that time, there's no Mountie around to talk him out of it? What
if he kills someone next time?* 

Letting Ray Vecchio go could have awful consequences. He needed to be sure
what he was doing was right, so he considered his choices carefully. He
grinned to himself: Revenge first, cuz it felt good to think about that.  

*Technically, I could charge him with aggravated assault, maybe even throw
in a hate crime charge too, just for fun. I could get his Armani-suited
ass thrown in jail, with or without Fraser's help. And if he's still
dangerous, I oughtta do it. Fraser's friend or not.* The problem was, if
Ben didn't back him up as a witness, it'd be just his word against
Vecchio'sand after taking down most of the Iguana family, Vecchio was the
Department's Golden Boy. Chicago P.D. would probably throw its weight
behind him, or at least use it to try to get the charges dropped. So if
Ben didn't go along with it, who knew if the charges would stick?  

It was a tough one. 

He turned it over in his mind. He had to decide soon, because any further
delay in reporting the assault would raise questions about his
credibilityespecially if Fraser didn't back him up. And he had other
angles than Vecchio's craziness to consider. Like would it be worth it?
Sure, it'd feel good, watching the book get thrown at the guy who'd pulled
a gun on him; and if Vecchio was permanently flipped, instead of just
temporarily 'snapped' like Ben thought, then it'd be even better, cuz he'd
know he'd gotten a nutcase off the streets, so he wouldn't be able to hurt
anyone else. 

But sweet as revenge mixed with justice might be, it would have its down
side, too. It'd cause a helluva lotta damage. Vecchio would go to jail, at
least until someone bailed him out, and then, if the Department didn't
manage to lean on him heavily enough to force him to drop the charges,
there'd be a trial. Which would hurt Frannie, Mama Vecchio, Vecchio's
fiance, and the whole Vecchio family; and that'd hurt him, cuz they'd
become like a second family to him, while Ray was away. It might even ruin
Vecchio's wedding plans. And while he wouldn't lose any sleep over hurting
him that way, and he didn't even know his fiance, hurting the rest of the
Vecchios was a different story. 

Worst of all, it would hurt Ben deeply. Probably so badly that he'd leave
himand losing Ben would kill him.  

*Bye bye, relationship. Bye bye, love. Bye bye, Kowalski,* he thought
gloomily.  

Weighed against all that, and the fact that Vecchio hadn't really hurt
him, at least not physically, he wasn't sure such drastic revenge would be
worth it. Wasn't like Vecchio had broken into Ben's place, after all. Like
Ben said, he'd left the door unlocked. And the Italian really hadn't done
more than invade their privacy, bruise his neck, and scare the crap out of
him.  

*No,* he corrected himself, *he scared the crap out of *us*. Ben was
scared too.* 

His anger had faded enough, finally, that he could start being fair to
Fraser. Okay, so Ben had conflicting loyalties. He didn't want to turn
Vecchio in for it. Didn't even seem to think that he was a danger to him
any longer. Kept harping on how Vecchio had backed down, once he knew he
wasn't raping Ben. His attitude was only natural, wasn't it? After all,
they'd been friends for a long time. Ben loved the guy.  

*But is that all of it?* 

All of a sudden, something twigged in Ray's head. Something felt wrong.
Why was Ben so set on not charging Vecchio with assault? At first, he'd
been too angry to see past the obvious reasons: Vecchio was his best
buddy. Vecchio had thought he was defending Ben. Vecchio was getting
married soon, and Ben didn't want to louse that up. All good reasons for
not wanting to send him to jail.  

Still ... now that he'd chilled out, now that he could think rationally
again, those reasons didn't seem good enough. After all, Fraser wasn't
just *a* Mountie, he was Super Mountie. Practically a poster boy for the
RCMP. He took everything it stood for deadly seriouslyespecially his duty.
Friendship and loyalty hadn't kept him from doing his duty before, under
similarly extreme circumstances. *Hell, Victoria Metcalf was his *lover*,
and he turned her in when she was accused of a crime. What makes Vecchio
different?* 

Ray scratched his head, thinking about it. Dodged an unsteady
roller-blader skating by him and walked on, his thoughts focused on
unraveling the mystery. Not for Vecchio's sake, but for his own; and for
Ben's. He had to figure this thing out if he was going to make things work
with him again; and he had to do that. Despite the way he felt Ben had
failed him, he couldn't leave him. He had to break down the walls he'd
retreated behind. Get him back again.  

He'd lost Stella. He wasn't going to lose Ben, too. Where he was
concerned, failure wasn't an option.  

He thought hard. His instincts told him that Ben's desire not to charge
Vecchio had something to do with the reasons why the Italian had attacked
him. But he still wasn't sure he understood them completely. It might've
been just the shock of finding them together, and him looking like
Maxwell, but what if there was more to it than that? He had a feeling Ben
knew more about it than he'd said, but trying to pry Vecchio's motives for
it out of him afterwards hadn't worked very well. Ben had been so freaked
himself that he'd just spouted a bunch of psychologic mumbo jumbo.
Somethin' about how Vecchio had somehow been taken over by Armando
Langostini!  

He snorted to himself. *Vecchio, possessed by the spirit of a dead
Wiseguy. Right! Like ta see Fraser try explainin' THAT one to the judge!
"You see, your Honor, it was a highly unusual situation: at the time of
the attack, Detective Vecchio was channeling the spirit of a contract
killer named Armando Langostini, a member of the notorious Iguana crime
family. So he's really not to blame.* 

He snickered, imagining that. 

But when he sobered again, something still bothered him. He remembered
feeling a vague sense that he'd missed something when Ben had tried to
explain why Vecchio had flipped out. He relived the conversation in his
mind. Ben had said that Vecchio 'snapped' because seeing them together
shocked the hell out of him, and because he reminded him of Maxwell, some
contract killer who'd tried to whack him. Weird. But he supposed it could
be true. If Vecchio was 'troubled' (translate: wacko) enough to confuse
the two of them, he could see how that, and the shock of finding out about
them, could've made him flip out and get mad enough to waste him. Had to
be a shock, finding someone who reminded you of your worst enemy, in bed
with your best buddy, who you'd thought was straight. Hell, yeah. Vecchio
had been so shocked he'd thought he'd blackmailed Ben into sleeping with
him! 

*Asshole.* 

But he pushed his resentment aside. He had to figure this out, and there
was more to it. Something Ben said when they were arguing afterwards had
bothered him. It hadn't sounded right. But he'd been too angry to pursue
it at the time. Now he concentrated, trying to remember Fraser's exact
words.	

"You don't know what happened to him, Ray...."	

*That's it.* Well, part of it anyway. Ben had a weird look in his eyes
when he'd said that. Like he knew something about Vecchio that Ray didn't.
And he'd already told him that Maxwell had tried to waste Vecchio by
thenso what was it? His concentration sharpened. Had Ben meant that wasn't
all that Maxwell had done to him? Was there something else, something Ben
hadn't told him? What was it he'd said exactly? Ray chased an elusive
fragment of memory. He didn't have the near total recall that Ben seemed
to have, but his memory was still better than average; and damn good,
where Ben was concerned. He squinted, thinking hard. He'd said something
about Maxwell, something that hadn't made sense-- 

"Maxwell was evidently a rapist, as well as a murderer." 

Yeah! That was it!  

He stopped walking for a minute. Turned and stared out at Lake Michigan as
he turned the words over in his mind. How the hell did Fraser know that?
He'd said Vecchio had told him that Maxwell had tried to kill himbut
Fraser had mentioned the rape thing like it was new information that he'd
just figured out himself. Not like it was something Vecchio had said.  

Ray frowned. *How'd he figure that out? And what if it's true? What if
Maxwell was a rapist, too? What's that got to do with me and Vecchio?*	

He remembered the anguish in Ben's face when he'd screamed that ugly stuff
about Vecchio trying to whack him cuz he was jealous, cuz he secretly
wanted to have sex with Ben himself. That had gotten to Ben like nothing
else. Set him off. But something about the look on his face.... Ray
relived the scene again in his mind's eye. Ben hadn't looked shocked, or
like he was scared that it could be true. He'd looked hurt, like it was so
far off the mark that he couldn't stand it. Like it wasn't just insulting,
but totally impossible. "You don't know what happened to him, Ray!" 

Why did Ben think it was impossible that Vecchio could ever want him?
Sometimes the homophobes who sneered the loudest did it cuz they secretly
wanted a taste of cock. And Ben was so beautiful.... Then again, he'd
watched Vecchio with Ben at the hospital, and hadn't seen so much as a
trace of lust in the Italian's eyes for his gorgeous Mountie, even when
Vecchio was relaxed and off guard; and he'd been watching for it.  

*Plus, Ben knows Vecchio better than anyone; and Ben doesn't lie. If he
thinks the idea's totally wacked, and I didn't see any sign of it either,
then maybe it is.*  

Maybe Vecchio was as firmly straight as he seemed. But if so, what did
that have to do with Maxwell being a rapist? 

As Ray stood there watching the light glint off of the lake, a possibility
flashed through his mind, swift as the dance of sunlight on the waterbut
far darker. Despite the warmth, it gave him a chill. 

**************************************************************************
******* 

  

End of part 5 

Letters of comment on this story are welcomed and appreciated, as always.
But please don't send email asking me when the next story will be done.
Part 6, "Illumination" will be posted as soon as possible.  

Email the author: Ardrian15@aol.com