Resumed Identities	this story is a sequel to Mitch Hudson's Assumed
Identity. i'd like to thank Mitch for allowing me to play in his universe.
unfortunately, Assumed Identity doesn't appear to be anywhere on the
internet, and i haven't been able to get in touch with Mitch to let him
know. i think this story is self explanatory enough for it not to be too
confusing :)
 
 i might never have finished this story if not for the help of Hamlette,
who helped me out with some penetrating character assessments when i got
very stuck. Anagi was also a huge help by beta reading the story and
providing useful suggestions.
 
 this is the last DS story i'll be posting to the Archive. like many fans,
i've been increasingly fed up (to put it politely) with the nastiness and
bigotry shown by some Vecchio and Kowalski fans. the majority of us simply
want to live in peace and enjoy a wonderful show, and the fanfic it's
inspired us to write, but this tiny minority won't allow that to happen.
so, like many of those others, i've voted with my feet. however, i started
this story long before i decided to leave, and i feel that it deserves to
be read. if you can't accept the existence of season 3, or that both Rays
deserve to be treated with respect, then don't read this story. you won't
like it.
 
 Resumed Identites covers a period from a few days before the events of
CotW to several months afterward. i've tried to remain true to the events
of CotW, while interpreting those events to fit in with where i wanted the
story to go, so this is not a fixit or an AU, but a recognition that life
goes on after the end of the show and that things don't always turn out
the way they're planned.
 
 WARNING: this story contains some fairly graphic descriptions of rape. if
you want to avoid them, please read this version. 
 
 Rating: NC-17, for graphic descriptions of rape, violence and m/m sexual
situations
 
 
 Resumed Identities Once there was a Chicago cop called Ray Vecchio. Then
he became a mobster named Armando Langoustini. The man who crouched,
naked, legs parted, on the large bed was neither man. If pressed, he would
have admitted to being Armando, but truthfully, he no longer thought very
much about who he was.
 
 Over the months he'd settled into Armando's skin and Armando's life until
he barely remembered the cop called Vecchio, or the friends and lovers
Vecchio had known. Except when he was with John Laurier. Being with
Laurier, allowing the Canadian to fuck him with a ruthless precision, was
probably the most terrifying thing he could do. He should have ended it
long ago, but, with the same kind of subconscious need that makes amputees
feel phantom sensations from their missing limbs, the man who was known as
Armando Langoustini needed a reminder of who he'd once been, even if it
meant risking his life.
 
 Without the occasional assignations he'd had with John Laurier, the man
on the bed would have gone crazy months ago… whether from the terror of
being who he had to be, or from the fear of never again being the man he'd
left behind in Chicago, he wasn't sure. Laurier was the only person in his
life who'd known Ray Vecchio, and he needed this man to remind him that
Ray Vecchio had ever existed.
 
 But, if there was one thing Armando Langoustini surely was not, it was
patient. Eventually the man on the bed remembered that and lifted his
head. "Well, what are ya waiting for?" His voice was rough; needy and
irritable.
 
 "Why, nothing, Armand." The Canadian-accented voice was quietly amused.
Playing mind games again. Everything was a game with Laurier, at least
when they were in the bedroom. Most of the games were physical, many of
them were painful too.
 
 He'd known from the beginning that Laurier liked it rough. At first he'd
denied the Canadian that part of his pleasure, but over time little things
had crept in, as they'd both known would happen; and then bigger things.
The man who was neither Armando nor Ray needed to avoid situations where
he might mistakenly call out another man's name. But nothing about sex
with Laurier reminded him of other lovers now. It reminded him of danger,
of hunter and prey.
 
 As if to reinforce that thought the quiet sound of a body shifting on
silk sheets alerted him to Laurier's actions. He braced himself, just in
time. With no preparation, no other warning than a firm grip on his hips,
a thick cock slammed into him, rocking him so hard he almost collapsed
onto the mattress.
 
 "Fuck!" He gripped the sheets and locked his arms straight. Pleasure, or
maybe it was pain... he could no longer tell the difference, flared
through his lower body. His cock, only half erect, shrivelled almost to
nothing and his balls, drawn up against his body in the expectation of
pleasure, dropped again to hang swaying between his legs.
 
 A low chuckle answered his cry. "Well, at least I've got your attention
now, Armand. You're usually more involved than this."
 
 "Okay, you've got my attention. Don't do that again."
 
 A brisk slap on his ass gave him no assurance on that point. "Open up,
dammit, Armand. You're tighter than a virgin."
 
 He made himself relax, moving with the fierce, deep thrusts, but he
couldn't relax enough. His ass was burning, his cock showed no signs of
stiffening and he couldn't bring himself to care. He wanted the sensations
to continue. Pleasure was too risky; he needed to feel something and pain
was better than nothing.
 
 Laurier grunted, pleased no doubt at his cooperation, and leaned forward,
covering his back. An arm slid around his waist and Laurier's hand fumbled
downwards, found his soft cock and began to pump it ruthlessly. More pain.
More sensation, but no change in his cock.
 
 "Armand? What's wrong?" Laurier seemed genuinely concerned. His thrusts
slowed almost to a stop.
 
 It suddenly occurred to him that at the first sign of real weakness
Laurier would turn on him with the instincts of any self-respecting
carnivore. That thought sent a jolt of adrenalin straight to his brain.
"Nothin'. I've been... busy. Just finish it, will ya?"
 
 Laurier didn't need telling twice. He redoubled his efforts, still
pumping futilely at the limp cock, but in a few minutes it was over, and
he withdrew with no more care than he'd entered. They tumbled sideways
onto the mattress and lay panting.
 
 "Who is he?" Laurier pulled him around roughly. "Who are you fucking?"
 
 He thought for a moment that his heart would leap out of his chest. If he
denied it, Laurier would never believe him. "He's nobody, okay? They're
all nobodies. If you'd told me you were coming, I wouldn't have had him.
Dammit John, I never said I'd be exclusive."
 
 Laurier relaxed a bit. "You look tired Armand. What's up?"
 
 "Not me, that's for sure." He laughed humourlessly. "I got something
coming up. I need... distracting sometimes. You should have told me you'd
be here."
 
 "I prefer not to let too many people know about my movements." Laurier
grinned. "So, what's coming up? Apart from you, that is."
 
 He sighed. Now that it was over, he just wanted to be alone. "A trip. To
Chicago. I could tell you more than that, John. But then I'd have to kill
you."
 
 *
 
 Turnbull's face, as he opened the door, showed a fleeting surprise; then
it was replaced by a smile, a look of delighted pleasure in the blue eyes,
and a subtle change in his stance. Ray Kowalski had gotten very adept at
reading the Mountie over the last months. It was rather embarrassing to be
the object of such romantic longings when all he felt in return was
friendship, and a sense of curiosity as to why two men, one of whom he
loved, the other of whom he was impersonating, should care so much for
this doofus. Okay, he was a great lay, but…
 
 But right now Turnbull was ushering him into Ray Vecchio's apartment and
inquiring, as a good host should, after his health, and his preferences
for a drink, a snack, anything else he might want.
 
 Fraser had never really answered his question, in the early days, as to
why, if this was Vecchio's apartment, and he was supposed to be Vecchio,
Turnbull was living in it and not him. Fraser's only response had been
startled look and an assurance that this way was best, thank you Ray. He
hadn't had the confidence to push it then, and after the first few weeks
of his relationship with Fraser their visits had tailed off and he'd
pretty much forgotten about it. Now, visiting the apartment by himself for
the first time ever, he began to wonder again.
 
 His thoughts were interrupted by a list of available drinks, which showed
signs of being unnaturally comprehensive. Seemed like Turnbull had every
kind of tea, soft drink, beer or wine imaginable. "I'll have a Bud,
thanks."
 
 "Of course. Your favourite, isn't it Ray? Sit down and I'll bring it to
you. In fact, I think I'll join you." A wide, only slightly daffy, smile
was bestowed on him before the Mountie turned away, tripping on that rag
rug that always seemed to get in his way.
 
 Ray settled onto the couch and waited. A minute later Turnbull was back
with a tray containing two cans, Budweiser and Molson's, and two tall
glasses. He opened the Bud, poured it expertly and handed it to Ray.
 
 "Thanks." He took a long swallow, suddenly feeling nervous about being
here alone with the Canadian. "You don't drink Bud?"
 
 "No, Ray." A polite little smile. "I'm afraid I don't like American beer
very much."
 
 "Then why…" he stopped, embarrassed by the thought that Turnbull might be
keeping it here because it was his favourite. It wasn't like he and Fraser
spent that much time over here.
 
 Turnbull looked down at the glass held between his large, bony hands.
"It's Ray's favourite too. When he drinks." The blue eyes fixed on his.
"He doesn't like to drink much, you know."
 
 "I heard." It was strange how the inflection in Turnbull's voice made it
perfectly clear which Ray he was talking about. Strange how the longing
seemed to reverberate through the simple words. If Turnbull had romantic
feelings for him, what he felt for Ray Vecchio was obviously something of
another order altogether. He wondered if the reason Turnbull was looking
after the apartment had more to do with Turnbull than it did with Vecchio.
 
 The image of a large golden Labrador faithfully guarding his master's
slippers rose forcibly to his mind. He tried to dismiss it… it really was
unfair to Turnbull to think of him that way, but still there was a certain
truth to it that lodged in his mind and wouldn't allow itself to be
evicted. Devoted faithfulness was certainly a large part of Turnbull's
personality. When he loved, he didn't easily let go. Was that what Vecchio
saw in him?
 
 Ray sighed and set the glass aside. "I'm worried about Fraser. Have you
noticed he's been acting strange?"
 
 "Yes." Turnbull smiled mournfully. "He's… he's preoccupied, I think, Ray.
He's waiting."
 
 That was news to him. "Waiting for what?" His voice rose sharply. Part
worry, part indignation that Fraser would confide in Turnbull and not him.
 
 But Turnbull's head shook slowly from side to side. "I don't know. I
don't think Fraser knows. I've seen it before, Ray. I think he has a touch
of the Sight."
 
 "Huh? Whaddaya mean, sight?"
 
 "The Second Sight, Ray. I've always believed Fraser was a little… fey."
Turnbull stared calmly at him. He could have been talking about
mathematical rather than supernatural ability, so matter-of-fact was his
voice.
 
 Ray hurriedly repressed his immediate impulse to make fun of the big
Mountie. Okay, so he was weird at times, but even Fraser, who definitely
had problems with his subordinate's strange ways, would never deliberately
hurt him. Fraser might have trouble showing it, but he cared a lot for
Turnbull. So what if Ray suspected it was mainly for the sake of the
absent Ray Vecchio. Even now, there were a lot of things about that
triangular relationship that he didn't understand even though he was, in a
way, part of it.
 
 Time to get back to the important things… "So, what can we do about it?"
 
 "Nothing, Ray." Turnbull frowned slightly. "Well, at least, nothing
directly. We simply have to support him as best we can."
 
 It made sense, but he'd hoped for more. He wasn't good at that kind of
stuff… not like Turnbull was. He met a pair of eyes suddenly gone inwards
and sad looking. So it wasn't any easier for Turnbull. His respect for the
klutzy Mountie hiked itself up another notch.
 
 "I guess I'd better go." He dragged himself unwillingly to his feet. With
Fraser so remote and strange, there was no chance of their spending the
night together and he didn't really want to be alone. But… he'd never even
visited here alone before.
 
 Turnbull stood too, putting aside his almost untouched beer. "You don't
have to leave, Ray." His voice went low, with just a hint of shyness.
"I'd… well, I'd welcome some company tonight."
 
 *
 
 Eventually Laurier left and he was alone again. It wasn't enough. In the
early days of his assignment this bedroom had been his refuge from the
stress of having to be always on his guard. Then he'd made the mistake of
bringing Laurier in here… now it was the most terrifying battleground of
his life. Every time Laurier left he needed to obliterate all reminders of
their session. A long, hot shower helped, and when he came back to the bed
it was laid with fresh, clean smelling sheets. A slow smile crossed his
face. Nero was worth his weight in gold.
 
 It ought to bother him that he hadn't been able to get it up tonight, but
in truth, it came as no surprise. This had been building for months now.
Laurier scared the Hell out of him. No, correction... his reaction to
Laurier scared the Hell out of him. He needed Laurier the way crack
addicts needed the drug that was killing them.
 
 He dropped the silk robe from his shoulders and slid between the crisp
sheets. Cotton, not silk, this time, and cool on his bare skin. He relaxed
into them with a sigh.
 
 It was late, and he was tired, but there was little likelihood of his
sleeping now. Laurier had that effect on him, and tonight had been more
hair raising than he'd ever anticipated. Now that it was over, the risks
he'd taken chilled him, even as he recognised that the next time Laurier
came to him, he take the exact same risks again. He'd lived for months now
with the knowledge that he could be exposed at any time, and sometimes he
thought it would be easier just to let go, to give up the last shred of
his identity as Ray Vecchio and become, in every respect, Armando
Langoustini. Except that becoming Armando scared him more than the
prospect of dying did. If he truly became Armando, Ray Vecchio would be
dead.
 
 And at last, now that Laurier was gone, his cock was stirring. With a
soft groan, he reached down and began to stroke it idly. He didn't know
what to do about Laurier. His initial unwilling liking for the man had
dwindled to nothing, and his fear of what he, or Laurier, might do had
grown apace. The smart thing to do would be to end the relationship, if he
could call it that.
 
 He couldn't do it; couldn't even imagine doing it. Kill Laurier, maybe,
but send him away? That, he conceded, was impossible. He hadn't been
joking about killing Laurier. He'd do it if he had to... there wouldn't be
any trouble if he did; there was always a good excuse, if you looked hard
enough. But could he actually look into that face, the face of another man
who was everything John Laurier was not, and pull the trigger himself? He
doubted it. Well, there would always be someone else to do the job for
him.
 
 Even these disturbing thoughts weren't enough to stop him becoming
aroused. He pumped his cock more firmly, though it was a weak imitation of
Laurier's fierce grip. The soft throb became more insistent and he gripped
his balls tightly with one hand while he fisted the shaft. It was close
now, but he felt strangely detached. There was no pleasure, only the
satisfaction of a physical need. He'd enjoyed the shower more.
 
 On the thought, his cock pulsed, sending a weak spurt onto his belly. He
released his grip and absently rubbed the drops into his skin, then rolled
onto his side and allowed himself to relax into sleep.
 
 *
 
 The sheet was bunched up in his two fists and Ray Kowalski held on as
though his life depended on it. He flexed his knees and pressed his feet
flat against the mattress, tensed his thighs and tried really hard not to
move his hips at all. Oh God… His head was pressed so far back into the
pillow that his throat was stretched too tight to swallow. With an effort
he levered his eyes open and eased his stiffening neck out a little. And
watched the sandy head moving above his belly.
 
 Nobody had told him Turnbull could be like this. On the few previous
occasions that he'd been in bed with Turnbull, it had always been the
three of them and they had divided their attentions pretty evenly. Having
Turnbull all to himself was a whole other ballgame.
 
 A low moan escaped him and he shivered. It had taken an eternity for
Turnbull to reach the place he was now. Every square inch of his body had
been explored, teased, suckled, caressed. Every breath, every heartbeat
had been noted and taken account of in the slow progression of Turnbull's
journey. He could see the fluttering of his heartbeat under the skin of
his belly, perfectly in time with the throb of his cock. Perfectly in time
with the soft press and release of Turnbull's tongue against his slit.
 
 It changed again, as it had changed over and over at random intervals, in
random sequence, to gentle probing, then again, almost immediately, to a
delicate flicker of sensation over his whole cockhead. It was as though
the whole of Turnbull's existence was summed up in the glide of his tongue
over Ray's slit.
 
 There was something about the way the Mountie went at this that was
disturbingly childlike. Disturbing, when he thought of it in this context
anyway. But in reality it was a sweet, almost innocent generosity that
Turnbull brought to the act of making love, the kind of single-minded
pursuit that was the realm of children. Or saints.
 
 The alleged saint drew back, a tiny retreat, and then ran his tongue the
length of the twitching, wildly throbbing shaft. He paused for a moment to
suckle the cockhead one last time, then plunged down taking the whole
length into himself in one smooth movement that almost fried Ray's brains.
In spite of his best efforts his hips heaved upwards, lifting the whole
lower half of his body off the bed as he screamed.
 
 Turnbull rode it out expertly, not allowing it to interfere as his lips
closed around the base of Ray's cock. As Ray's hips dropped back to the
bed, he stayed where he was, allowing the cock to slide through the tight
ring of his lips. The change from slow and intense to fierce and demanding
was almost too much to bear.
 
 Ray managed to hold on through three repeats of the cycle and then howled
as his hips surged up and up, refusing to allow the downward part of the
cycle. The sensations crested, eased a little, and then he was able to
thrust, fucking Turnbull's face as though there had never been another two
men who'd known this kind of pleasure in the history of the universe.
 
 Through all the moans and the curses and the total meltdown of his brain,
he was aware of Turnbull, guiding, steadying, seeing to his pleasure and
his safety until he was able to think for himself again. He stared up at
the long angular face, flushed and sweating, with just a hint of
satisfaction in his blue eyes. Ray managed a smile for him, before his
eyes dropped to that thick, beautiful Canadian cock, still standing
proudly away from the sandy curls at Turnbull's groin. His balls were
drawn up so tight they'd almost disappeared.
 
 "Oh, man… come here, buddy. Come and fuck me." He reached out to draw the
larger man down into his arms. His own cock lay still hard against his
belly, sensitive to the slightest touch of Turnbull's skin, but that
didn't matter. What Turnbull had just given him could only be repaid with
an act of equal generosity.
 
 They kissed, sharing the taste of Ray's cum while both of them caught
their breath. Then, with a gentle nudge, Turnbull's cock was entering him.
Slow. Very slow… the exquisite pressure built as all of that magnificent
cock filled him. Turnbull was breathing hoarsely, but his control never
wavered until the moment he came to rest, completely inside Ray's body.
Then he shuddered and buried his head against Ray's shoulder.
 
 Ray knew couldn't give Turnbull the kind of innocence the younger man
brought to making love, but maybe, just maybe Turnbull needed something
else. Something Fraser couldn't give him, but Vecchio just might… "Come
on, buddy, do me good. Fuck my ass so hard I'll feel it into next week. I
want you to come in me. Fill me up with…" he choked back a cry as Turnbull
drew back a little and then rammed home again. Just once, and then he
settled to a steady, hard rhythm that felt so incredibly good, Ray thought
he might just come again. A few minutes of this and he'd be ready to try,
anyway.
 
 But there wasn't time… already Turnbull's body was shaking
uncontrollably, almost to the point that he was unable to thrust
effectively. Ray wrapped his arms around the solid chest, his legs around
the sturdy hips, and plunged onto the iron length, deliberately clenching
his ass muscles to hold it there inside him. Another thrust, shaky but
true, and a ragged sob warned him that Turnbull was beyond need, beyond
the ability to continue. He clenched his muscles again and released;
clench and release, milking the captive shaft until he felt it happen…
that thick pulsing contraction, the hot wet release, the unmistakable
shudder of a body pressed beyond its endurance.
 
 Who would have guessed that all this passion, all this devotion, lay
underneath the mild, bumbling exterior of Constable Renfield Turnbull?
Vecchio, obviously. Fraser, perhaps, but probably not. And now him. Nobody
on the receiving end of that kind of love could fail to be awed by it. It
made sense to him now, the thing that had been puzzling him ever since he
and Fraser had become lovers. Why would Vecchio want Turnbull when he had
Fraser? This was why.
 
 Not for the first time, he wondered what Vecchio was really like. And
then put the thought aside to tend to the exhausted weight of Turnbull's
body, shifting him into a more comfortable position. Turnbull tried to
lift his head, his hair now dark with sweat, but Ray drew it back onto his
shoulder.
 
 "'S okay, Renny. Just stay here." He wriggled a little still holding the
Canadian in the loose cradle of his arms and legs. "Lemme just hold you,
okay?"
 
 *
 
 It was no more unusual, these days, to arrive at the Consulate and find
Ray's GTO parked outside than it had been, a year ago, to find the other
Ray's Buick Riviera, but it always put an extra little spring in Renny's
step as he entered the Consulate. The last few days had been rather
trying; he knew that something serious was developing, but, as usual, he
was being kept totally in the dark about it. Well, there wasn't much he
could do about that… he was hanging his coat in the closet when Ray
wandered out of Fraser's office, scrubbing at his head and yawning..
 
 "Hey, Renny. Good to see ya." Ray grinned and then yawned again. "Sorry.
Was up half the night sittin' in a damn alley with a bunch of rats. Second
night in a row, fer God's sake."
 
 He accepted this information with no obvious response, but he shuddered
inside. He wasn't very fond of rats. "Is Fraser…" he let the question tail
off delicately.
 
 "Getting' dressed in his uniform." Another yawn. "Ya think I could get
some coffee?"
 
 Reminded of his obligations as host, Renny started. "Of course. It'll
only take a moment. Why don't you go into the library?"
 
 As he'd expected, Fraser had joined Ray by the time the coffee and tea
was made. Renny placed the tray carefully on the table and handed Ray his
mug and a small bowl of Smarties. Fraser helped himself to the teapot, but
reserved the larger part of his concentration for the pile of his father's
journals.
 
 "Is there anything I can do to help?" Renny crouched between their
chairs, looking from Fraser to Ray and back again.
 
 Fraser simply grunted abstractedly, but Ray handed him a journal. Fraser
thinks there'll be somethin' in these about Muldoon." 
 
 He took the small volume from Ray and glanced through it. The entries
were annotated, though what the notes were supposed to mean was not clear,
at first. Renny frowned and flicked over a couple of pages, then selected
another volume at random and leafed through the pages, mentally noting
anything that looked like a clue.
 
 "See, everything my father ever did is in here. Cross referenced by
criminal and by crime." Fraser frowned down at the page before him, turned
the page, and frowned again.
 
 This was exactly the kind of puzzle Renny most enjoyed. Gradually the
neatly inscribed notes in the margins began to make sense. "Now the filing
is a little crude… but brilliant… To find Muldoon…" 
 
 Renny straightened up and began to pace. He always thought better on his
feet and it was easier to tune out what Ray and Fraser were discussing
when he wasn't kneeling between them. Pieces of the puzzle fell into place
with a suddenness that he'd come to expect in such situations. It was as
much instinct as deduction that helped him solve these riddles. "Aha! You
see! I find Muldoon by simply flipping to page six of… volume nine." He
found the journal and flipped it open to the correct page, then handed it
to Fraser.
 
 The writing on this page was not quite as neat, betraying an inner
turmoil, perhaps. Certainly the words were moving; redolent with regret.
…I'd have rearranged the landscape, torn down the mountains, and diverted
the rivers to catch Muldoon; and I only had the slimmest of clues. He
always managed to be where no one expected him to be. And usually that was
where he had just been...
 
 Ray lowered the journal he'd been reading. "Anything?"
 
 "He doubles back on himself."
 
 "The alley. Why did I know it was gonna be the alley?" Ray groaned and
dropped his head into his hands.
 
 *
 
 After the alarms and exertions of the night, it ought to be easy for him
to sleep, but here it was, past two a.m. and Ben was still awake. Ray
snuffled quietly against his shoulder and, on Ray's other side, Turnbull
muttered something indistinguishable and then subsided again. The fact was
they were all on edge, none of them more so than him. So much so that
instead of going back to Ray's apartment after the incident in the alley,
Ben had suggested they come here.
 
 The sense that something was about to happen had left him now. The
reappearance of Holloway Muldoon, the involvement of the FBI, not to
mention being attacked with a grenade launcher… whatever it was that he'd
been waiting for, this had to be it. Usually, that would be enough to ease
his tension, but this time he was just as unsettled as he had been for the
last few days. Before he could disturb the others with his restlessness,
Ben slipped out of the bed and drew on his boxer shorts. Perhaps a drink
of milk might help him relax.
 
 Resisting the temptation to drink from the carton, Ben found a glass in
the immaculate kitchen cupboard and leaned back against the counter while
he slowly drank the milk. The rich taste of it filled his mouth and
swirled rather queasily down his throat, but the memories of childhood
treats of "real" milk, as opposed to the powdered milk he'd drunk most of
the time, comforted him.
 
 As he lowered the glass from the last long swallow, he saw Turnbull
standing in the kitchen doorway. His long, rangy body was still bare but
it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Ben, who had always been
more reticent, blushed slightly, unable to match his more casual attitude
to nudity.
 
 Turnbull smiled a little sleepily at him. "I woke and you were gone.
Ray's still sleeping."
 
 "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." And, in fact, he would have
preferred to be alone, but he could hardly say that.
 
 "You didn't." Turnbull hesitated a moment, the smile wavering a little.
"I miss him too."
 
 The simple, factual statement demolished all his carefully erected
defences in a moment. He saw Turnbull register that fact and then take two
quick strides to reach him. Long arms wrapped themselves around his body,
drawing him close, and the cheek pressed against his was wet. He hadn't
thought, hadn't allowed himself to think, about Turnbull's loneliness,
with not even the comfort of another lover to ease it. He should have been
more diligent in following Ray's request to look after Turnbull, but it
had been so painful, those first few weeks, that not even his new
relationship with Ray Kowalski could take away the discomfort he felt in
being in this apartment. And, if he were totally honest, he'd never really
accepted Turnbull as anything more than a rather unwanted encumbrance
foisted upon him by Ray Vecchio.
 
 He brought his hand up to cup the back of Turnbull's sandy head offering
what wordless comfort he was capable of giving. Turnbull's arms tightened
around him and Ben stroked the long, broad back gently. It seemed as
though, now that he'd openly admitted the loneliness he'd been denying all
these months, Turnbull could no longer hold back his emotions.
Uncomfortable as that made him feel… uncomfortable as his own emotions
made him, Ben could not abandon the younger Mountie now.
 
 "Turnbull… he will come back…" It was weak comfort that he offered, and
Ben bit his bottom lip uncertainly. He simply wasn't good in situations
like this. Ray would have known what to do… either Ray could have handled
this better than him.
 
 Turnbull's head lifted and his flushed and tearful face hovered
uncomfortably close to Ben's. "I know he will, but…" the long angular face
crumpled slightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
 
 He liked Turnbull, in those rare moments when he wasn't being irritated
by the younger man's clumsiness or his frequent inability to grasp what
seemed like the most basic of concepts. Turnbull was good with hard,
indisputable facts. Or with creative endeavours such as art and cooking;
but what had possessed him to become a Mountie, Ben had never been able to
figure out. Or how he'd managed to make it through training.
 
 But right now, Ben was aware of a certain amount of fellow feeling… they
both loved Ray. They both missed him terribly, and what should have drawn
them closer together, had, because of his thoughtlessness, kept them well
and truly apart. Well, it was not too late, even now, to remedy that. Ben
brushed the tears away from Turnbull's cheeks with his fingertips and laid
his hand, palm flat, against the hot skin. Turnbull's eyes widened
slightly.
 
 After a moment's indecision they kissed, then kissed again… slow,
comforting, and undemanding. Until, gradually, Ben became aware of a soft
insistence pressing against his groin.
 
 Turnbull pulled back suddenly. "I'm sorry… I'll…"
 
 "No. Don't go." Ben slid his hands down to Turnbull's sturdy hips and
drew him closer.
 
 They kissed again, more sensually now, as they both accepted where it was
going to lead. It was, Ben realised, ironic, that Turnbull of all people,
should be the only one to understand how he felt. Ray couldn't, and
couldn't in all fairness be expected to. Only Turnbull knew, and that was
because he felt the same sense of loss. The loss of one person so much a
part of him that no other, however much loved, could possibly replace him.
 
 He should have recognised this sooner. Instead, he'd selfishly avoided
coming here to visit Turnbull, who was not only his lover, as well as
Ray's, but also his subordinate, his responsibility. He'd wanted to avoid
the memories of Ray that this apartment always invoked. But that had meant
Turnbull had been without his support all these months, surrounded by
Ray's possessions and constant reminders of his absence. Ray would have
expected better than that from him. He'd failed both of them. And still
Turnbull responded with a generosity that Ben had not even thought to
offer.
 
 Slowly, his body began to respond as Turnbull's arousal became more
pronounced. He'd never been particularly attracted to Turnbull; his
preference, obviously, was for tall slender men, and if it hadn't been for
Ray, Ben would never have considered making love with him. But right now
he was finding the silent intimacy of their bodies' touching unexpectedly
arousing. Then Turnbull eased away from him a little. Just enough to slide
his long bony fingers between their bodies and unfasten Ben's boxers,
smooth the cloth out of the way, and take the swelling cock into his hand.
 
 Ben gasped as his cock was gently stroked, and then Turnbull carefully
eased back the foreskin. A delicate touch on the exposed cockhead sent a
wash of heat and exquisite sensation through his body, but held firmly
between Turnbull's larger frame and the counter at his back, Ben couldn't
thrust as he wished to. Even that minor restraint felt good.
 
 After a moment Turnbull pressed against him trapping their cocks, side by
side, between their bodies. The slow movement of Turnbull's hips, and the
glide of his cock against Ben's, sent shivers through them both and Ben
sought his mouth again. He flattened his hands in the curve of Turnbull's
lower back, resisting the temptation to encourage the easy thrusting into
something more energetic. Let Turnbull set the pace… he seemed to know
what Ben needed, even better than he did himself.
 
 The tickle of hair against his chest was mirrored by the soft coarseness
of Turnbull's pubic hair against his cock and, even more arousing, against
his exposed and sensitive cockhead. Though he'd been slower to start, it
wasn't long before Ben was coming in a long aching shiver of pleasure.
Once again Turnbull began to retreat, but Ben pulled him back.
 
 "Finish it, Turnbull… I want you to…" his voice caught on a gasp as more
heat gushed against his belly and the large body sagged against him.
Turnbull buried his sweaty face in the base of his throat, and Ben stroked
his hair, feeling a rush of unexpected tenderness.
 
 But it was Turnbull who ended it a moment later, prosaically cleaning
them both with a couple of paper towels and then, of all things, turning
away to rinse out the glass before putting it into the dishwasher. Ben
took the reprieve offered, gaining control of his emotions, at least on
the surface, and putting his boxers to rights again. It was only after
Turnbull came back to him, with one of those wide, slightly vacant smiles
on his face that Ben realised the respite had been deliberate.
 
 It had worked. He was able to muster enough self-confidence to suggest
that they return to the bedroom. Five minutes later he was still
wide-awake, with Turnbull curled up against his side, head resting on his
shoulder and fast asleep.
 
 On Turnbull's far side a stirring among the bedding signalled Ray's
wakefulness. Ben wondered, in a bout of silent hysteria, whether this
would herald another round of lovemaking in the kitchen.
 
 "You okay, Frase?" Ray's pale eyes watched him carefully from across
Turnbull's broad shoulders.
 
 "I'm just not sleepy." Ben sighed, hoping his lover would let it rest. He
would prefer not to analyse his tangled emotions right now.
 
 Surprisingly enough that was exactly what Ray did, sinking down behind
Turnbull and reaching a hand across his body to twine his fingers with
Ben's. "Okay. Well… g'night…"
 
 And once again he was alone with his thoughts.
 
 *
 
 Chicago might be Ray Vecchio's home, but the city meant nothing to
Armando Langoustini; and it was Armando Langoustini who swept out of the
First Class section of the plane and into O'Hare Airport, leaving his
companions to deal with the luggage while he waited in the limo. It would
be a dangerous meet, but nothing he hadn't done before. All he had to do
was check into his hotel and wait. Once he was contacted the negotiations
would start. The stakes might be frighteningly high, but the game was
always the same.
 
 And, of course, it made no difference to Armando Langoustini that he was
in the same city as a couple of Mounties who had little in common except
for their devotion to the ideals of the RCMP and their love for a certain
Ray Vecchio. No difference at all.
 
 Five hours later, Armando needed to reassess that situation, with respect
to at least one of those Mounties. He stared into Benton Fraser's
overjoyed face and felt his world dissolving around him. Caught somewhere
between Armando and Ray, he froze, and nearly got them all killed.
 
 *
 
 So this was Ray Vecchio. He'd seen photos, of course, and wondered
privately what the Hell they'd been thinking to offer him the job of
taking over his life. They didn't look even remotely alike. Now that he'd
met the guy in person he was even less impressed. Sure, it must have been
a shock to have his cover blown like that, but if Vecchio didn't get it
together soon Muldoon was going to kill the both of them.
 
 Even Fraser was looking worried, and that was the kind of thing that
tended to make Ray very nervous. He was going to do that talk them into
submission thing and this time Ray had the feeling it was more likely to
get them killed than save them. He told Fraser to shut up almost without
thinking. Bad move… Muldoon picked up on the name immediately. Lucky that
Fraser was a common enough name.
 
 "Who are you?"
 
 Vecchio's voice distracted him from his thoughts. Not that he was having
any brilliant ideas so far. "Who? Me?"
 
 "Yeah. You."
 
 He stared up at Vecchio. What was he up to now? He sure didn't look like
he wanted to help them out. Ray decided to stall for time, at least until
he got a better idea of where this was headed. Vecchio should know damn
well who he was, so why was he asking? "Uh… whaddaya mean?"
 
 "What do they call ya?"
 
 He cast around desperately for inspiration. "Who?" Great. Talk about dumb
ass…
 
 Apparently Vecchio thought so too. He glared around the room impatiently.
"Am I still speaking English here, or what?" Getting confirmation on that
point from one of his goons, he aimed his gun straight at Ray's face.
 
 Okay, seemed like he really wanted an answer… "Oh, you mean my name? Oh
that…" he dug on his pocket. Might as well raise the stakes a little. He
held out his wallet. "Here."
 
 Vecchio glanced at it. "Ray Vecchio, Chicago PD."
 
 Suddenly every gun in the room was trained on them and Muldoon was
arguing with Vecchio over who'd blown their meeting. It was only a matter
of time before Muldoon figured out who Fraser was. There was only one way
for Vecchio to take back control of the room and he took it. Ray followed
Fraser into the bathroom and they both turned to look into Vecchio's
expressionless face.
 
 The gun was pointing directly at Fraser. It shifted slightly as Vecchio
fired into the wall beside him. Fraser crumpled gracefully to the floor
with a thud. Now it was turned on him. Ray's mouth went dry. Vecchio was
supposed to be on his side, but his eyes were those of a cold-blooded
killer. Vecchio's finger tightened on the trigger and Ray was falling
before he was even sure he hadn't been shot. He lay with his eyes closed
and his heart pounding as Vecchio left the bathroom. 
 
 *
 
 He could feel Fraser's sombre gaze on the back of his neck. During the
ride back to the stationhouse it had begun to sink in to the Mountie that
things had changed. He'd seen it happening, once the first rush of
excitement wore off.
 
 "…Muldoon has weaponry for sale and a buyer he just needs somebody to
broker the deal. So the ATF places two agents a Khalil and a Cartwright.
Muldoon makes the agents and kills them both. So the ATF suspect an inside
leak. They turn to the FBI who turns to me, Armando Langoustini. The Mob
brokers the deal."
 
 Ray Vecchio paused and looked around the room. Everybody was listening to
him. Even Frannie was silent. Waiting to hear what he and he alone could
tell them. As if he was important or something… Nobody seemed to notice
that he was falling to pieces inside.
 
 It still terrified him how close he had come to allowing Armando simply
to kill Fraser and the Bag Lady rather than to lose his cover. For one
horrifying moment it had seemed like the most reasonable thing to do, and
it had been Muldoon, not Ray, who had prevented it. Muldoon, who had
decided that he needed to know more about the two intruders, giving Ray
enough time to realise that he somehow had to take back his life from this
stranger on the couch and become Ray Vecchio again.
 
 And he'd tried. The words he'd spoken to himself in the mirror had been
meant as a message to himself that it was over, that it was okay to be Ray
Vecchio again. When Fraser and the other guy came out of the bathroom,
he'd launched into his favourite method of getting one over on the
Mountie. A nice long tirade about the way Benton Fraser had screwed up his
life yet again. 
 
 It hadn't worked. He'd felt stiff and unnatural, like he'd put on the
skin of a dead, dried out corpse. Fraser, of course, hadn't noticed. Hell,
he hadn't even noticed that the Bag Lady and he got along about as well
together as chalk and cheese. But Ray had noticed something. Fraser and
the Bag Lady were lovers.
 
 "…All right we've got to move. Huey and Dewey you run down the location
the whole layout all right? Francesca pull everything on Muldoon, any
possible connection."
 
 He blinked. It seemed like a decision had been reached, and he'd been a
part of it, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was.
 
 "…Fraser, you run it from your end. All right we got six hours let's use
them."
 
 The meeting was breaking up. Fraser left, without saying a word… and
who'd ever have believed that was possible? Ray threw a glance at his
alter ego and they both headed for the door.
 
 "Oh, Ray...."
 
 "Yeah ?" Two voices answered. They both turned, still in the doorway. Ray
froze. For a moment he had the wildest feeling that it was all a dream,
that he wasn't really Ray Vecchio. He was really Armando Langoustini
pretending to be Ray Vecchio pretending to be Langoustini.
 
 Even Welsh looked disturbed. "No, I mean… oh, Geez, this is going to be
confusing, huh?" he pointed towards Ray. "Look… you be Ray Vecchio 'cause
you were Ray Vecchio to start with..."
 
 "Right." He accepted it as calmly as though he'd never doubted it in his
life, and turned a level stare on his impersonator. Just let him try that
smart ass 'you're not you' trick again…
 
 But he didn't, just looked at Welsh uncertainly. "And who am I?"
 
 "Good question." Welsh considered it briefly. "You can be Stanley
Kowalski."
 
 That got Ray's attention. He grinned. "Stanley Kowalski?"
 
 Kowalski shifted uneasily and didn't answer. Welsh explained. "His father
had a big thing for Marlon Brando."
 
 "So... uh... I just..." Kowalski shuffled his feet and looked away for a
moment, then, appealingly, at Welsh. But Welsh was already moving on to
the next item on his agenda. Ray met his eyes, watched him register the
fact that he'd lucked out, and glanced down trying not to look too
pleased. "…okay."
 
 Ray smirked, but left it to Armando to push the knife in a little more
firmly. "Later, Stanley." As Kowalski left at last he shut the door firmly
behind him. "Sir." He moved forward purposefully. He needed to find out
what the plans were that he'd just agreed to.
 
 * 
 
 "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
 
 Ray didn't need to look to know who was speaking. The other guy. The fake
Ray Vecchio. The… he tried to throttle back his instinctive anger. A bit.
This was the guy who'd taken over his life, taken Fraser… probably Renny
as well. "How can you work in this mess?"
 
 "No worse than… uh... the piles of crap you left all over the place." 
 
 "Yeah, well my piles of crap were organised." He dumped one handful of
files on top of another pile, ignoring the slouching figure in front of
him.
 
 Kowalski shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but his voice
remained calm and reasonable. "My mess is organised." 
 
 "Well, why don't you just organise it some place else?" He straightened
up, hands on hips, and silently challenged the scrawny little jerk to do
something about it.
 
 "Okay." Still sounding unnaturally reasonable, Kowalski grabbed the files
and flung them violently across the Bullpen. "Is that good?" 
 
 Outwardly, Ray didn't move a muscle, but he felt his body tense. He met
Kowalski's stare with apparent calm. "You got a problem?"
 
 He got a full on glare in return. "Maybe, just maybe I don't like the way
you're sashaying around trying to take over everything."
 
 He was taking over? That was rich! Ray leaned over the desk, jabbing a
finger at Kowalski, his voice tight with barely suppressed fury. "This is
my desk, it's my life, now get over it."
 
 Kowalski snorted angrily. "Well you get over this." Almost before Ray
realised what was happening, Kowalski had grabbed the front of his shirt
and pulled back a fist, ready to let fly. 
 
 It was all the excuse Ray needed. He grabbed Kowalski's T-shirt with both
hands, hesitating between shoving him across the room and pulling him in
for a knee to the family jewels. But before anything serious could get
started, Frannie seemed to appear out of nowhere to pull them apart.
 
 "Okay, okay. All right, back off Kowalski that's my brother you're
talking to so just stay out of his face." She turned to Ray as Kowalski
backed away, still glaring. "And you! Did they give you testosterone shots
in the mob or what?"
 
 It stopped him in his tracks. Only a kid sister could make him feel like
such a jerk. His eyes refused to meet hers and the anger faded to a cold
sick sensation in his gut. She glanced from him to Kowalski and back
again, making shooing motions. "Work!"
 
 He looked across at Kowalski, sitting on the edge of a spare desk with
his head hanging dejectedly. Shit. Much as he'd like to blame the guy for
everything, he knew he was being unfair. "Listen, I uh-"
 
 Kowalski raised a hand without looking up. "Hey. Forget about it." He
sighed. "It's just... uh… It's, you know, so sudden. Look, I knew you were
coming back, I just didn't… think it would be, uh… so soon, so...."
 
 "I know. It feels like you died and you didn't get everything done." He
watched Kowalski turn away and start to pick up the scattered papers. God,
he knew exactly how Kowalski was feeling. Which meant that maybe Kowalski
was the only person in the world who knew how he felt. He wished it could
be anybody but Kowalski, because he sure as Hell didn't want to feel sorry
for him. "You know, that's how I felt when I walked out of here."
 
 Kowalski didn't respond for a moment and he hesitated, wondering whether
he should offer to help or just leave it alone. Then Kowalski turned to
look him in the eye. "How's Vegas been?"
 
 He shrugged helplessly. He couldn't even begin to answer that.
"Undercover's lonely."
 
 "That it is." Wisely, Kowalski left it at that and just carried on with
the clean up.
 
 Ray went over to help. He picked up a few files and laid them on the
desk. "Well, you got Fraser."
 
 He'd only meant it to be a friendly comment, but Kowalski glanced at him
with a resentful gleam in his eyes. Anger stirred in Ray again and he
stared at Kowalski, hands on hips, silently challenging him. For a moment
he thought they might start another fight. Then Kowalski laughed. "Right."

 
 He knew what that laugh meant. Knew it to the depths of his soul, if he
still had one. Fraser… the weird, wonderful force of nature that was
Benton Fraser. Unexpectedly, Ray found himself laughing too.
 
 *
 
 The Consulate had moved. Ray vaguely remembered hearing something about
that from Renny before he left. Kowalski had offered to drive him over and
Ray had accepted, since he wasn't entirely sure where the Consulate was
any more. In spite of their spat earlier they'd discovered, somewhat to
the surprise of both of them, that it was possible to almost like each
other. He hoped, without much confidence, that Renny wouldn't be there.
But at least it was a relief to go into the new building and not to have
any memories of past visits.
 
 The détente didn't last much past the front door. He followed Kowalski
through the reception area and down the narrow back hallway feeling an
unreasonable resentment at the other man's obvious familiarity with the
place. Kowalski pushed open a door and Ray shouldered past him into a tiny
office. Fraser was in there, wearing his red uniform. Lust exploded in
heart-pounding, knee-weakening pulses and he fought the almost
overpowering urge to shove Fraser up against the wall and take him then
and there. Just take him hard and fast, whether Fraser wanted him or not.
Just take him... the way Armando Langoustini took anything he wanted.
 
 Ray dragged in a shuddering breath and shoved his hands into his pockets
to hide their shaking.
 
 "Ray!" It was Laurier's voice, behind him. He spun on his heels. Laurier,
in RCMP uniform, with the beard shaved off and his hair shorter on top...
"Ray, it's so good to..."
 
 He watched the delighted smile crumble, unable to move even the frozen
muscles of his face. This was all going horribly, terribly wrong. His
stomach roiled dangerously. "Where's the john?"
 
 "I'll show you." Renny summoned up a weak smile.
 
 He pushed past the younger Mountie. "Just tell me, for God's sake."
 
 "Uh... through the Ice Queen's office. On the other side of the hall." It
was Kowalski who supplied the information, his voice tense with barely
repressed anger.
 
 He made it just in time. It didn't seem to help any, but then he'd never
imagined the nausea was due to anything he'd eaten. Ray rinsed his mouth
out, and splashed water on his face, trying to clear his head, settle his
nerves a bit.
 
 Fraser and Kowalski were there in Thatcher's office when he came out,
standing apart, not talking, not looking any too happy. Then Thatcher
arrived. She greeted him with her accustomed lack of enthusiasm and it was
almost a relief to find something from his former life he could still
relate to. And it didn't take long to figure out that she saw a career
opportunity in this mess. No wonder she was so... perky. Ray suppressed a
shudder and was relieved to find that she would be pairing up with
Kowalski for tonight's meet, even if that mean he was going to be sitting
alone in a car with Fraser.
 
 There was no sign of Renny and that could only be a good thing. He'd
known it would be difficult seeing Renny again, but still hadn't been able
to repress his instinctive fight/flight reaction. It would be better for
Renny, for all of them, if he kept well away.
 
 
 *
 
 They'd been sitting in silence for too long. Ben stirred uncomfortably.
It wasn't as though they hadn't spent far longer periods alone together
without feeling the need to talk. This was different. The easy familiarity
that had always existed between them, almost from their first meeting, had
gone. Ray was a stranger… a cold, distant stranger, with an aura of
violence about him that chilled Ben to the bone. He couldn't begin to
imagine what he could say to the man Ray had become. Even Dief, sitting in
the back but poking his nose between them, seemed uncommonly subdued.
 
 Eventually, Ray stirred and looked across at him. "You know Benny, the
desert's okay and Nero does a great buttermilk but this is the stuff I
miss..."
 
 "Like old times, eh?" Ben tried to smile but his voice sounded hollow.
 
 "Yeah..." Ray frowned slightly. "You remember that time you locked us in
that vault..."
 
 "…and the water kept rising until we… we almost drowned." Ben watched Ray
unobtrusively, wondering where this was leading. It wasn't exactly one of
his happier memories. They'd spent most of the time in that vault arguing.
 
 Ray turned to face him. "Yeah... You know what I just said about missing
all this...?"
 
 Ben felt his throat tightening. He nodded awkwardly. "Uh huh…" 
 
 "Forget I ever said it." Ray's voice was quiet, empty of emotion.
 
 "Understood." As Ray leaned forward to replace his fake moustache, Ben
closed his eyes briefly and bowed his head. Only a few hours ago he'd felt
an almost unbearable joy at seeing Ray again. Now Ray was telling him it
was over. So this was how it all ended... not in the heat of a fight, but
with calm indifference. How could it possibly hurt so much?
 
 *
 
 The last of Muldoon's henchmen disappeared behind a knot of terrified
shoppers and Ray Kowalski pulled up with a curse. He'd been off his game
tonight and it had showed. Just the fact that he'd tried to talk about his
insecurities with the Ice Queen, of all people, was proof of that. He was
lost, in more ways than one. Somewhere behind him Fraser and Thatcher were
taking on Muldoon, and Vecchio had disappeared in that direction too. He
turned back towards the fairground rides.
 
 He rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. Fraser and Thatcher were
clinging to the ferris wheel and below them Muldoon was taking aim at
Fraser. Ray lifted his gun. He was too far away to have any real hope of
hitting Muldoon, but maybe he could get a bullet close enough to ruin his
aim. He fired, knowing it was already too late, and saw Vecchio throw
himself between Muldoon and Fraser, taking Muldoon's bullet for his lover.
Falling.
 
 Despite their differences, there was nothing that brought a chill to a
cop's blood faster than the sight of another cop taking a bullet. Ray was
running before it even occurred to him that Muldoon might be aiming at him
next. But Muldoon hadn't lasted all these years by taking unnecessary
risks. He was already out of sight. Ray glanced up again at Fraser and saw
the look of utter devastation on his face, then he was dropping to his
knees beside Vecchio's body.
 
 The wound was high up in Vecchio's chest, dangerously close to the heart.
Ray dragged out his cell phone and dialled 911one handed while he put
pressure on the wound with the other. Vecchio didn't move, but Ray could
feel the weak thud of his heartbeat. Still alive, but he didn't look good.
Huey appeared out of nowhere and Ray tossed him the cell phone, heard him
giving the 'Officer down' warning that would guarantee an immediate
response, then turned his attention back to Vecchio.
 
 He was already very pale, his skin cold and clammy, breathing fast and
shallow. At least he was still breathing. "Hold on, Vecchio, just keep it
together. Help's on the way, okay?"
 
 Vecchio gave no sign of having heard him. Ray dragged out a handkerchief
and pressed it against the wound with both hands. There was a lot of
blood, but it wasn't spurting the way it would if an artery was nicked.
There was still hope.
 
 "Ray?"
 
 At that moment Ray didn't know, and couldn't have cared less, which of
them Fraser was talking to. He looked up into Fraser's distraught face.
"He's still alive."
 
 Fraser drooped to his knees on Vecchio's other side and took hold of his
hand. He reached out to touch Vecchio's cheek with trembling fingers.
"Ray…"
 
 "He'll be okay, Frase. The paramedics'll be here any minute." He looked
over at Huey, who was staring at them both. "They're coming, right?"
 
 "Yeah." Huey seemed in shock too. "I'll go meet them. Show them where to
come."
 
 Others were gathering round now, but Fraser seemed oblivious to them all.
He knelt in silence with Vecchio's hand clasped against his chest,
watching Vecchio's face. At this moment, Ray would gladly have changed
places with Vecchio. Would Fraser look like that if it was him on the
ground? Maybe. Maybe not. But he'd give anything not to see that lost look
in Fraser's eyes.
 
 *
 
 Funny how some things never change. Even after all he'd been through, the
instinct to protect Benny was still there. Just as it had been that first
time, when he'd pushed the Mountie out the window and taken the full force
of Drake's booby trap. Or when he'd thrown himself at Benny, knowing full
well that he'd be taking a bullet in the back from Dr Carter's gun.
 
 You'd think by now he would have gotten over it, but no… one glimpse of
Muldoon aiming his gun and Ray had flung himself forward without so much
as a second thought. And now he was back in a hospital bed with a very sad
and sorry looking Mountie staring down at him, just as he had all those
years ago when Ray had taken the force of that blast in Frankie Drake's
apartment. And Ray found that he wouldn't have changed a thing. Maybe it
took getting shot to bring him back to his senses.
 
 But right now the Mountie had a job to do. Muldoon was dangerous. Benny
ought to be going after Muldoon, not hanging around a hospital waiting to
see if he was all right. There was no time for getting things straight
between them, either, even if Ray had the energy. Which he didn't right
now, so he did the only thing he could do.
 
 It was harder than he expected to muster the energy to speak. "Do you
Mounties still always get your men?"
 
 Benny looked taken aback for a moment. "We try to."
 
 "Go get him, Benny." Ray managed a weak smile
 
 It seemed like he understood what Ray couldn't quite manage to say out
loud. A faint smile curled those pretty lips and, for once, there wasn't a
hint of Armando Langoustini in Ray's response. Then he closed his eyes
with a sigh. When Benny got back they could sort things out.
 
 *
 
 Ray Kowalski watched from a distance as Holloway Muldoon was loaded onto
a helicopter, handcuffed between two of the biggest Mounties Ray had ever
seen. He grinned, glad to see the last of that scumbag, glad that the
adventure was over. So much had happened since he'd left Chicago with
Fraser that it seemed like he'd lived a lifetime in just a few days.
 
 "Ray!"
 
 He turned to see Renny striding towards him across the snow. "Hey, buddy,
how's it going?" He hugged Renny enthusiastically.
 
 They'd met briefly after the shootout, but there had been too much to do
for them to be able to talk. Fraser had disappeared after Muldoon and
hadn't yet returned, and there had been the wounded from both sides to
care for. But now the wounded and Cyrus Bolt's goons had all been flown
out. Muldoon was the last to go.
 
 "Isn't this exhilarating Ray?" Renny was bubbling with enthusiasm.
"Welcome to Canada."
 
 Ray laughed. He'd seen a lot more of Canada than he would ever have
imagined, and surprisingly, he'd liked it. Apart from jumping out of
planes, climbing mountains and falling down ice crevasses. And all that
snow… "Good to see ya here. You seen Fraser?"
 
 "He's over there, talking to Sergeant Frobisher." Renny pointed to a
small stand of trees beside the cabin and Ray finally saw the two figures,
almost invisible against the trees' darkness.
 
 "Okay. Thanks." He started in their direction, but Renny put a hand on
his arm.
 
 "I wouldn't just now, Ray." Renny was unusually serious. "I think he
wants to talk to Sgt Frobisher about his mother."
 
 "Frobisher's mother?" Ray frowned. What did she have to do with anything?
 
 Renny smiled, as though he thought Ray was joking. "No, Fraser's mother,
Ray. Now that he's caught her killer, I'm sure he..." he stopped as he saw
Ray's confusion. "Muldoon killed Fraser's mother twenty nine years ago.
Sgt Frobisher told us."
 
 A cold sensation gripped his guts as Ray switched his stare from Renny's
face to the two distant figures. Fraser had known all that time and hadn't
even told him? After all they'd been through together in the last few
days, Ray had thought there were no barriers between them now, but
obviously Fraser didn't feel the same way. How could someone not tell his
partner, his lover, about something as important as that?
 
 "Uh… I gotta…. I'll just…" he started walking away, without any idea what
direction he was going in, except that it was away from Fraser. It wasn't
as thought they hadn't had plenty of time to talk about stuff. Last night,
for instance... all that stuff Fraser had said about partnership. At the
time Ray had assumed that he was saying he wouldn't be partnering with
Vecchio when they got back to Chicago, but maybe…
 
 "Ray…" Renny called after him. "Ray, wait!" He stopped and waited for
Renny to catch up with him. "Ray, I'm sure Fraser would have told you… he
only recently found out himself…" Renny's face was crumpled with worry.
 
 "Sure he would." Ray tried to smile. "When he found time… ya know… I
mean, it's not like we're going anywhere." He gestured around at the snowy
wilderness. "Anyway, why should he tell me? I'm just the guy he fu…" he
turned away and started walking again, before he made himself look even
more pathetic.
 
 A large hand caught his arm in a firm grip. "Ray, you mustn't wander off
alone. It's very easy to get lost here. Come back to the cabin."
 
 "Yeah, whatever." He shrugged and followed Renny back toward the cabin.
 
 At least half of Frobisher's trainee Mounties, as well as the Ice Queen,
had left with the bad guys, so there was room in the cabin for the four of
them to sleep, even if not comfortably. It also meant there was no privacy
to talk. After a few hours of listening to the others talking, and feeling
excluded by their Mountieness, Ray wandered out to look at the moon. Dief
followed him.
 
 "Hey boy." He leaned down to ruffle the pale coat. "Guess you feel right
at home here. Guess Fraser does too."
 
 "Yes, I do, Ray." Fraser's quiet voice, coming from behind him, made Ray
jump.
 
 He turned to face his lover. "So yer staying? Or going back to Vecchio?"
Either way, he lost. It made him feel strangely calm to realise that.
 
 "Ray." Fraser bowed his head and shrugged. "I thought I'd made it clear
last night… you're my partner. So is Ray Vecchio."
 
 "The real Ray Vecchio." That's what they all thought of him; the not real
Ray Vecchio.
 
 "Yes." Surprisingly, Fraser smiled. "And you're the real Ray Kowalski.
Isn't that better than pretending to be someone else?"
 
 "I dunno. Is it?" His stare challenged Fraser.
 
 Fraser started waking towards the trees. "Come here, Ray."
 
 "Why?" He got no answer. Ray shrugged and trudged after him. "Fraser,
what…"
 
 Once they came under the shadow of the trees, Ray found himself taken in
a firm grasp and thoroughly kissed. He was still gasping for breath
afterwards when he heard Fraser's soft chuckle. "Trust me, Ray."
 
 "Sure." This was familiar ground. How many times had the Mountie said
that before trying out some new and exciting way to make love? But… out
here, in the snow? "What do ya wanna do?"
 
 "No." Fraser's voice was just a faint sigh against his cheek. Lips
brushed over the warm spot left by his breath. "Trust me, Ray."
 
 Oh. Ray tried to relax, but he was too wound up, too full of
insecurities. He swallowed to ease the tightness in his throat. Fraser
kissed him again, walking him backwards until his back was pressed up
against a tree. Nobody would be able to see them from the cabin now.
 
 Ray's lips parted and his tongue slid across Fraser's pouty bottom lip. A
soft moan escaped him. They kissed in silence for a long time until Ray's
body ached and his lips felt sore. Trapped between Fraser's body and the
tree, he still managed to push his groin against Fraser's, and even
through the layers of clothing, he could feel the matching arousal. The
fact that they weren't going to be able to do anything about it only added
to the excitement.
 
 His fingers had somehow gotten tangled in Fraser's thick hair.
Reluctantly, he released his grip and leaned his head back against the
tree trunk. His lips were tingling and his cock throbbing gently.
 
 "Trust me, Ray?" Fraser bent his head and nibbled delicately at Ray's
throat.
 
 Ray laughed breathlessly. "Yeah. I guess." After all, what choice did he
have?
 
 *
 
 How could so much have changed in just a few days? There'd been too much
time, in the hospital, for Ray to think about that. Not to mention the
other things he'd much rather not be thinking about. Such as Benny,
disappearing off into the wilderness. Again. With Kowalski. Frannie had
told him that Renny had gone too, with the Dragon Lady. God only knew what
would happen to them all... Muldoon was a damned dangerous man. On the
third day he'd discharged himself, mainly because he couldn't stand lying
helplessly in a hospital bed while his lovers were in danger.
 
 And then there was his own position to consider. His FBI contact had
managed to pass him a message that his former assistants were being kept
well away from any telephones, a condition that could well be permanent
for them, if they could be convinced to take witness protection. It meant
that Armando Langoustini would be able to disappear, hopefully without
trace.
 
 Unfortunately, that wouldn't stop someone like John Laurier from trying
to find him. And the first place Laurier would look would be the last
place Armando had visited… Chicago. Somehow he had to get himself out of
town, and also make sure that neither of his lovers, or Kowalski, was
around when Laurier arrived. That wasn't going to be easy
 
 The Twenty-Seventh Precinct had been in a state of barely controlled
chaos when he'd finally got there. Even Lt. Welsh had been pleased to see
him. In all the fuss, he'd barely noticed Stella Kowalski, and it wasn't
until hours later that he'd realised just what that name signified.
 
 He'd flirted with her of course. She was his 'type', or would have been
if he'd had any real interest in women since Benny had come along.
Flirting was his natural reaction to any smart, slim, sharply dressed
woman; it didn't mean a thing. He'd been far too worried about his
Mounties to put much of an effort into it. At least, until it occurred to
him that Stella Kowalski could be very useful to him.
 
 Yesterday, he'd got the news that they were all safe, and Muldoon was on
his way to the nearest Canadian jail cell in the company of half a dozen
of Canada's finest. And that Kowalski, high on the pure Canadian air, no
doubt, was planning on dragging Benny even further north in search of the
Hand of Franklin, whatever that was. That was when everything seemed to
fall neatly into place.
 
 The quiet click of high heels alerted senses attuned to the slightest
hint of danger. Ray turned his head and smiled as he rose from his chair.
"Hello Stella."
 
 "Ray." Stella smiled, blushing slightly. "You have no idea how
disconcerting it is to have to call you that."
 
 "Oh, I think I've got some idea." He took her hand and squeezed it
lightly, then ushered her into her chair. "I won't ask you to call me
Armando, though." He smiled roguishly.
 
 They paused then, to look through their menus. Ray already knew what he'd
be ordering. He knew this restaurant very well. "Will you allow me to
order for you?"
 
 "Certainly. That's very... gentlemanly of you." Stella tilted her head,
considering him. "Quite old fashioned, but I don't mind."
 
 "My mother taught me how to behave towards a lady." Ray turned aside to
give the waiter his order and waited for him to move away. "Stella, I know
we haven't known each other very long, but I feel... that I can trust
you."
 
 Her eyes focused on his face, studying him. She was far from stupid. Not
that he'd ever had any doubts on that score. "Yes, Ray?"
 
 "I need to leave Chicago." He smiled ruefully. "With all due respect to
your ex-husband, the cover that he provided won't hold up once... shall we
say, interested parties start looking for explanations. It was never part
of the plan for me to come out of cover the way it happened."
 
 "Aren't the FBI involved?" Stella paused as their appetisers were placed
in front of them. When the waiter retreated, she leaned forward. "Surely
they have some kind of back up plan?"
 
 He spread his hands wide in a gesture of helplessness. "Would you be
willing to trust them with your life?" He laughed softly. "I really hope
your answer's no. You're much too beautiful to die so young."
 
 A tiny smile quivered at the corners of her mouth. "I see your point. But
what does it have to do with me?"
 
 "Well..." he'd been toying with his salad, now he looked directly into
her eyes. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, Stella, but it seemed to me you might
be willing to... take a chance. A new relationship, even a new city...
I've always wanted to retire to Florida, now I've got the chance to do it
while I'm still young enough to enjoy myself." He smiled seductively.
"Even better if I can do it with you."
 
 "I don't know..." Stella lowered her fork. "Ray, it's not so long since I
was married to a cop. I don't want to make the same mistake twice."
 
 It gave him pause. He knew, deep inside himself, that he was using her,
but he was at least partially attracted to her as well. She deserved
better than to be lied to and dragged into a relationship that might have
very little to offer her. "Stella, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked on
such a short acquaintance. Forget it."
 
 Surprisingly, she shook her head. "No... I didn't mean to... I am
interested, but I hardly know you, after all."
 
 The waiter arrived to remove their salads and they sat in silence,
sipping wine until the entrees arrived. Ray sighed. "Let's put our cards
on the table, shall we? I've told you I need to leave Chicago. I get the
feeling from you that a change of scenery might be on your agenda too. We
could... pool our resources, keep each other company."
 
 "You'd need to leave soon, I suppose." Stella picked up her fork and
delicately speared a sliver of chicken. "How soon?"
 
 "Three days." He said it bluntly, curious as to how she'd take it.
 
 She seemed completely unmoved. "I see... and you want me to leave my job,
my life, and come with you."
 
 He shrugged as charmingly as he could manage. "I have my pension sorted
out, and my pay for the time I was undercover. It's a nice little nest
egg; you wouldn't have to rush to find work down there. Even Florida must
need District Attorneys, Stella."
 
 "More than most, I would imagine." She smiled wryly. "All right. I'll
come."
 
 He blinked. It had been far too easy. He saw the amusement in her eyes
and smiled. "And?"
 
 "And nothing. As long as you understand that I'm not making any
commitments, beyond coming with you. I won't expect you to, either."
 
 "Fellow travellers, huh?" Ray leaned back in his chair. "I can go with
that. It's a deal." 
 
 They chimed their wineglasses together in quiet celebration.
 
 *
 
 "So, I hear you got your man Benny?"
 
 "Ray!" Ben couldn't hold back the smile that came to his face at the
sound of Ray Vecchio's voice. He clutched the handset tightly as though
that would somehow reduce the static on the line. "Ray, it's good to hear
your voice. How are you?"
 
 "Me? Oh, I'm doing okay. Taking early retirement actually." There was a
lengthy pause. "How about you? And Renny?"
 
 Ben glanced out the window of the small cabin and grinned. Ray had joined
Turnbull, Buck Frobisher and Dief in their nightly howl at the moon.
"We're both fine. Ray is too… he's enjoying the change of scene."
 
 "Yeah, well, Benny… maybe you can help me out there." A nervous laugh was
interrupted by a lengthy burst of static.
 
 Ben frowned, not able to make out much more than the occasional word.
"Ray, I'm sorry, you're going to Florida with who?" He swallowed a rising
sickness in his stomach. He'd hoped to mend whatever had gone wrong
between them when they all returned to Chicago. But if Ray was going to
Florida…
 
 "…Stella, Benny. …getting married once we… …bowling alley, Benny. I
always…"
 
 The line went suddenly quiet. "Ray, are you still there? Did you say
you're marrying Stella Kowalski?" Please God, let him be wrong. He didn't
know how Ray would take that piece of news and Turnbull would be
devastated that their lover had left them once again. He couldn't even
begin to let himself think about his own reactions.
 
 "That's right, Benny." Ray's cheerfulness sounded forced. But then so did
his own calmness. "We're flying out tomorrow. How about you? You're
planning on staying up there I heard."
 
 "Oh…" Ben wondered who would have told him that. "Well, Ray did say he'd
like to find the Hand of Franklin."
 
 "Sounds great. Uh… thing is, can you… I'm just kinda worried about Renny.
I don't think he'd be very happy in Chicago with both of us gone. Maybe he
could go with you."
 
 Ben felt his eyebrows rise, but he forced his voice to remain even. "I'm
sure he can if he wants to."
 
 He waited for Ray to say something, anything, about their relationship.
It had seemed that there might be hope the last time he'd seen Ray at the
hospital, but perhaps being shot again had been the last straw. A long
sigh echoed in his ear. "Well, I'd better go, Fraser. You take care of
Renny for me."
 
 There was no time to say more. The line clicked and was silent.
 
 *
 
 In two days they'd be leaving, but for tonight the three of them had the
cabin to themselves while Sergeant Frobisher took his trainees on night
manoeuvres. They were huddled together in the only bed available, warm but
not feeling comforted by it. Renny shifted restlessly and twined his
fingers with Ray's. Since he'd heard the news about Stella, Ray had been
by turns wild with fury and deeply morose. Not even Fraser had been able
to help him. But then, Fraser was hardly in better shape, even if he was
more adept at hiding it.
 
 His own emotions were far too painful to be let loose. Ray had left them…
left him. Ever since he'd realised he was gay, and that his family would
never be able to accept that fact, his life had been rootless, the only
anchor his devotion to the RCMP. Ray had changed that… for the first time
in his life, Renny had felt accepted for who and what he was. When he'd
been with Ray he'd felt at peace. Their relationship might not have been
wildly passionate like some he'd known, but Ray had become a loving and
stable foundation for his life when he'd badly needed it. The year Ray had
spent undercover had been difficult, but survivable. The thought that he
had lost Ray forever was almost unendurable.
 
 Of course he would have to carry on somehow, but he didn't know how.
Fraser, he admitted to himself, would not particularly care whether he
went on their adventure or not. Ray Kowalski seemed to want him, but would
probably prefer to be alone with Fraser. He didn't want to go back to a
Chicago that was devoid of anybody he cared about.
 
 Beside him Ray stirred restlessly and turned to Fraser. He heard the
quiet exchange of words and then the sound of their kissing. Perhaps he
should leave. Or just pretend to be asleep. He didn't know if he could do
that… his face was already becoming heated, mostly with embarrassment, at
his unintentional eavesdropping.
 
 A hand touched his thigh. "Renny? You awake?"
 
 Renny rolled onto his side and snuggled up to Ray's back gratefully. Ray
and Fraser had started kissing again, so he nuzzled the back of Ray's neck
and breathed in the richer than usual scent of him. Washing up was not as
easy here as it was in Chicago. He stroked down over Ray's side, sometimes
brushing against Fraser's hand, until he found the turgid length of Ray's
cock.
 
 Ray moaned quietly, his voice muffled by Fraser's mouth. Together Renny
and Fraser caressed him and occasionally each other. When Ray's head
turned towards him, a pale gleam in the darkness of the cabin, Renny
thought he saw a dark shadow against Ray's chest. He kissed the thin lips
and felt the tickle of hair against his cheek. Fraser. He cupped his hand
over Fraser's head, holding it against Ray's chest, and explored Ray's
mouth with slow, determined strokes of his tongue.
 
 Mutual comfort gradually gave way to pleasuring. Ray, the focus of both
their efforts, writhed between their bodies as each of them
indiscriminately caressed him. Finally Renny turned him back towards
Fraser and pressed close against his back. His cock slid neatly into place
between Ray's buttocks and he began to thrust gently.
 
 After a moment, Fraser had the rhythm too, and their gentle thrusts
rocked Ray's body between them. There was no passion, only a need for
comfort shared by them all. Ray came first, his body finding release with
a long shudder that was echoed by Renny and Fraser almost immediately.
 
 For a while there was only the sound of their breathing, then they
sleepily rearranged themselves into a tangle of limbs that ought to be
uncomfortable, but somehow wasn't. Ray sighed. "It's gonna be okay. Isn't
it?"
 
 "Yes, Ray." Fraser's voice was tenderer than Renny had ever heard it. He
kissed the bony shoulder beneath his cheek and remained silent.
 
 *
 
 The team was ready. The sled was packed. Dief was waiting eagerly for
them to get started. Ben looked over to where his lover and his colleague
were standing. They showed no signs of being ready to leave. With a small
sigh, he walked over to them.
 
 "You sure about this Renny?" Ray was looking upset, and Turnbull as
determined as only he could. "Ya know he said…"
 
 "I know, Ray." Turnbull smiled at Ray and then straightened into a more
formal stance. "I've decided to go back to Chicago, Sir."
 
 "Turnbull, you don't have to…" Ben stopped. "Back to Chicago?" It was
obvious that Turnbull wanted to make this official. He was being addressed
as a superior officer, not an occasional lover. He pitched his own voice
to a more formal tone. "May I know why?"
 
 "I, uh…" as usual, Turnbull began to flounder. Then, unexpectedly, he
pulled himself together. "Sir, I believe that's where my duty lies."
 
 Ben's eyebrows slid upwards. Duty, under these circumstances, could only
mean Ray Vecchio. And Ray Vecchio was… well, somewhat of a sore point
right now. Ben ignored the painful tug in his chest and focussed on the
matter at hand. "Turnbull, Ray is in Florida. As far as we know, he has no
plans to return."
 
 "But…"
 
 "…and he did send a message suggesting that you join us on this
expedition. A suggestion I'm very happy to accept, by the way." Which
wasn't entirely true, but Turnbull didn't have to know that.
 
 Except, by the look on his face, Turnbull did know that. "That's very
kind, Sir, but, I believe I should return to Chicago."
 
 Ray fidgeted. "But then you'll be alone."
 
 "Ray, it's kind of you to be concerned, but I'll be all right." Turnbull
smiled down at the smaller man then exchanged a glance with Ben. "And
besides… uh…" he blushed, "I believe some time alone together would be
beneficial to both of you."
 
 And that was far too obviously true for any of them to feel comfortable.
Ray needed help. Ray Vecchio's return had been difficult for all of them,
but particularly for Ray. Their pursuit and capture of Holloway Muldoon
had gone some way to reassuring Ray of his own continued interest, and had
increased Ray's confidence in himself, but Ben knew that a long period of
close companionship was what they both needed. Ray was, he admitted
reluctantly, not the only one in need of reassurance. Turnbull, it seemed,
was stronger than either of them.
 
 Ray looked from Turnbull to Ben and back again. "You sure? Ya don't
havta."
 
 "I know." With another smile, more stoical than serene, and Turnbull
stepped back a pace. "Have a safe journey, Fraser, Ray."
 
 Ben simply nodded, knowing it was best to do this quickly. He started for
the sled, with Dief bounding happily at his side. After a few metres he
noticed Ray's absence and stopped. The two men were still standing
together, not speaking. Ray flung his arms around Turnbull and kissed him
soundly. Then he was running over the snow towards him grinning.
 
 "So what we waiting for, Frase?"
 
 *
 
 It was hot in Florida. Well, that was the whole point, get away from
Chicago, from the freezing winters… for as long as Ray could remember,
he'd wanted to live here. It seemed like every time that he'd tried to get
to the Sunshine State something had gone wrong. Mostly that something had
involved Fraser. Well, he was here now, and he had a beautiful woman at
his side. And he wasn't enjoying it.
 
 He had too much time on his hands. Time to think about what being Armando
had done to him, time to wonder how Fraser and Kowalski and Renny were
getting along. Time to obsess over Laurier, and what he might be doing…
most nights he woke from nightmares about that, and then found himself
falling asleep over his dinner while Stella tried to maintain some kind of
conversation with him.
 
 Afternoons were the worst. Most days he swam in the pool in the basement
of the apartment building or went to the local pool hall. If he didn't,
then he'd more than likely fall asleep watching some crazy Spanish
language soap opera or game show. He was starting to feel like his old
Uncle Lorenzo. Soon, no doubt, he'd be hanging around in bars telling
complete strangers about his glory days as a Chicago cop and reminiscing
about Fraser.
 
 The ringing of the phone roused Ray from contemplation of this unpleasant
prospect. He made a note to himself to see a shrink before he started
drinking like his old man as he reached for the phone. "Yeah. Vecchio."
 
 "Ray?" Frannie's voice reverberated sharply in his ear and he winced.
"Ray are you okay? Ma's worried sick about you. She says you've only
called once in the last three weeks."
 
 "I'm fine Frannie. Tell her not to worry." He tried to ignore a twinge of
guilt. He hadn't seen much of his mother when he'd been in Chicago either.
She'd been too upset when he'd got shot to visit the hospital and once he
was out, he'd stayed in his old apartment rather than face the family.
"I'll call her tonight, okay? Or tomorrow at the latest."
 
 "Promise? Scout's honour?" She sounded sceptical, as well she might.
"She's really upset, Ray."
 
 "I promise, okay?" He clutched the phone a little tighter. "How is
everybody?"
 
 His sister chose to interpret his query in the broadest possible terms.
Before he knew it, Ray was being updated on the minutiae of the lives of
his family and everybody at the Twenty-Seventh. She even threw in Thatcher
for good measure, though there was no love lost between those two, not
with Fraser to fight over for the last four years.
 
 "Well, that's great Frannie." He broke in when she showed signs of
getting her second wind. "Good to hear all the news."
 
 "Oh yeah… that reminds me. You'll never guess who turned up last week!"
Frannie laughed coyly. "I'll give you a hint… he wears this red jacket
and… well, okay, I'll grant you he's not the Mountie, but…"
 
 "Renny?" The chill Ray felt had nothing to do with the air conditioning.
"Turnbull's back in Chicago?"
 
 "He decided not to go on that silly expedition. Do you think that maybe
Fraser will see sense? I mean if Renfield did, then…"
 
 "Frannie, this is important. You gotta get a message to Renny, okay?" He
hesitated, wondering what he could safely tell her. "Tell him to… no wait,
do you know where he's living?"
 
 The urgency in his voice must have got through to her. "No. What's up,
Ray? And what's it got to do with Renfield?"
 
 "Hang on a minute." He paced up and down, his mind working furiously. He
couldn't expect Frannie to break the news about Laurier. It was going to
hit Renny hard enough. This was something he had to do. "Look, Frannie,
see if you can find out where he is. Give him this number and tell him to
call me urgently, okay? I've got a couple of numbers I can try, but I
don't know if he's gonna be there. Do it today Frannie. Right now."
 
 "What's going on? How serious is this, Ray?"
 
 He tried to keep his voice calm. "Very serious. Do it Frannie, and call
me back. Please."
 
 The Consulate was already closed. No answer at his old apartment, not
even an answer phone. The lease had been due to run out in a month or two
and he'd been in a hurry to get out of Chicago, so he'd just walked out.
Maybe Renny had gone back there, maybe not. Either way, the chances were
that Ray would have to go back to Chicago, and soon.
 
 *
 
 Renny carefully considered his mental checklist. The upstairs windows had
definitely been secured, and the back door. Inspector Thatcher's office
had been cleared and all the papers she'd been working on were locked
either in the small safe, or the filing cabinet. The desk in the hallway
was fine, nothing of importance there. He frowned, wishing that Fraser was
still in Chicago and living at the Consulate. It had certainly made things
a lot easier. Two days ago he had left out some sensitive documents
overnight and Inspector Thatcher's reprimands were still vivid in his
memory.
 
 He avoided looking down the hallway towards Fraser's old office and
sighed. Inspector Thatcher had told him, rather grudgingly, that he could
have the office if he wished. Implicit in her tone was the warning that he
might occupy the physical space of the former occupant, but he would never
be able to replace him. Not that he would want to try… still, he had
refused politely. He stuck his head inside the meeting room, but it was
almost bare, certainly there was nothing that needed to be locked away for
the night.
 
 In the hallway, Renny stopped to retrieve his coat and Stetson. It was
still chilly, even for him, at this time of year. The keys were on his
desk and he pocketed them briefly as he walked toward the door. It was a
longish walk to the apartment and the light was fading rapidly. During the
winter he'd occasionally taken a cab or the El, but he preferred to walk.
 
 Outside, he locked the deadbolt and turned away from the Consulate door
with some relief. Now that neither Ray nor Fraser was in Chicago, he had
no real reason to stay here. Only the hope that Ray Vecchio might return
kept him from requesting a transfer. But Ray was gone, leaving not so much
as a goodbye message. Worse, he had gone with Stella Kowalski, with the
avowed intention of marrying her. It was silly of him to continue to hope,
but he did.
 
 A sudden gust of wind sent his Stetson flying before he could lift a hand
to prevent it. Renny ran the few steps necessary to retrieve it and was
straightening when he sensed a presence behind him.
 
 "Excuse me. Did you drop this?" The voice was somehow familiar, perhaps
it was the Canadian accent.
 
 Before he could turn to face the other man he was hit, a stunning blow to
the side of his head that knocked him to the ground. For a moment, before
everything faded, Renny could have sworn that he'd been attacked by a
mirror image of himself. Except that his eyes had never been so angry, and
he had never worn a goatee beard.
 
 *
 
 Consciousness seeped into his brain, slow and heavy, and Renny stirred
reluctantly. At first he was only aware of the ache in his head and the
fuzzy sensation in his mouth. Drugs? Or perhaps a blow… he couldn't
remember. Eventually the discomfort of his body made itself known to him
and he tried to move. He couldn't… at least, not very far. He lay thinking
about it for a while, then tried again. This time he was able to confirm
what his still dazed mind had not been able to accomplish before.
 
 He was naked, lying face down on a soft surface, probably a bed. His arms
were pulled over his head and restrained with a pair of metal handcuffs,
and his legs had been spread wide and tethered at the ankles. He was lying
in an awkward, twisted position and he couldn't move more than a few
centimetres in any direction.
 
 As the pounding in his head receded, Renny became aware he was not alone.
Someone was nearby; he could hear the sound of breathing. It took more of
an effort than it should to lift his head, ignoring his protesting neck
muscles, and open his eyes.
 
 Perhaps he was still unconscious. Or perhaps he'd simply gone mad. Renny
stared up into his own face, a face full of anger and something infinitely
more dangerous. He swallowed, and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened
them again, the man with his face was still there. It had been real then,
not an illusion caused by the blow to his head.
 
 "Where's Armand?" The voice, low and angry, was his too, even to the
Canadian accent. "Armando Langoustini."
 
 Confusion was his initial response. This man had known Armando
Langoustini? And therefore Ray? He held onto that confusion through a
couple of painfully accelerated heartbeats. It might help him to keep from
unintentionally betraying Ray. "Who?" His voice was rough, his throat dry.
He was in no way prepared for the fist that drove into his left cheekbone,
or the fingers that clenched in his hair and dragged his head up for
another blow. This time it fell across the mouth, making it bleed.
 
 "Don't lie to me! Tell me where he is!" The other man's face was twisted
with rage. He lifted his hand again, open-palmed this time, and slapped
him on his already throbbing cheek.
 
 "I don't…" Renny cried out as another blow wrenched his head around and
out of the other man's grasp. For a moment he lay with his face buried
safely between his arms and shuddered.
 
 A vicious tug on his hair dragged his head up again. There was pause as
his doppelganger took in the tears on his cheeks. He sneered. "Snivelling
little coward. I haven't even started yet." The thin lips closed like a
trap. Then… "If you don't know Langoustini, where's Vecchio?"
 
 This time he couldn't hide his reaction. The other's right hand lifted
again and in spite of himself, Renny flinched. The contemptuous expression
on his attacker's face was almost worse than the anticipated pain. He'd
always been like this, unable to put on a brave front, unlike Ray, or
Fraser, or his classmates at Depot. When they'd sprayed his eyes with
pepper spray during training, he'd screamed. He had a low pain threshold,
he'd been told. It didn't prevent him from doing what he must, but it
still shamed him that he couldn't control himself better.
 
 "Ray? He's… he's in Canada." The force of the blow rocked his head,
wrenching his neck muscles. "No, please!" He tried desperately to work out
what he could safely tell his interrogator. "He went with Fraser. To… to
find the Hand of Franklin. It's…"
 
 He was interrupted by another slap. "I know what it is, you moron. When
did they go?"
 
 It took a moment to calculate. He couldn't allow this man to suspect that
Ray and Armando Langoustini were the same person. "Uh… it was about six
weeks ago. Late February." Renny gasped with relief as his hair was
released after one last vicious tug. Let it be over… before he made a
mistake. But he knew it wasn't. He struggled to drag in enough air to ease
his lungs and licked away the blood that was welling from his split lip.
 
 When he risked a glance from between his arms, the other man was pacing
up and down, smooth and dangerous as a caged panther. Their eyes met and
Renny flinched away, unable to face the madness in a face almost
indistinguishable from his own.
 
 "Do you know who I am?" The madness seemed to increase. He took two quick
steps towards the bed and dragged Renny's head up again, studying him
intently. "Do you?"
 
 "No." The expected blow came and he cried out again.
 
 "You're not me. You're nothing like me, you pathetic bastard." The
Canadian jerked his head back still further, until Renny's throat was
taut. "Didn't Vecchio tell you about me? Did he tell you about Laurier?"
 
 "No." The hand, identical to his, lifted. "No, he didn't, I swear!"
 
 "What about Fraser? Didn't he tell you about how he arrested me?"
Laurier's eyes narrowed dangerously. But the blank look on Renny's face
must have convinced him. He let go and turned away. "You're useless."
 
 There was a long silence. Renny didn't even try to look at his captor. If
Laurier really had given up, then probably the last thing he would ever
know was the cool touch of a gun muzzle against the base of his skull. Or
Laurier might just continue beating him until he could no longer prevent
himself from betraying his friends. Renny hoped desperately for the gun.
 
 At last he was aware of Laurier's presence beside the bed. He waited,
holding his breath, for whatever would come. His only warning was a faint
swishing noise and then pain flashed through him as something… a belt?
struck across the tender skin of his buttocks. Uncontrollably, he
screamed, then bit down on the pillow to muffle the sounds as blow after
blow followed the first.
 
 When all the individual pains had melded into one and it seemed like
there was no part of his body that could possibly be unmarked, the beating
stopped. Renny's heart was racing from a combination of pain and fear, but
even above the pounding in his ears, he could hear Laurier's ragged
breathing. He waited, expecting more questions, wondering if he would have
the strength or the courage to continue to resist. But when it came,
Laurier's next move was worse than anything he could have imagined.
 
 At first the shifting balance of the bed didn't register. Next came the
touch of hot bare skin between his thighs. Even then, Renny's exhausted
mind couldn't grasp the meaning of it, until a heavy body came down across
his own, and a hard cock drove between his buttocks. He struggled then,
uselessly, against his bonds while Laurier forced his way, by brute force,
into his body.
 
 There was nothing about what followed that was anything Renny could
recognise as sex. Laurier hadn't used any preparations, not lube, not
even, he realised with a shock, a condom. Each furious thrust rocked the
whole bed and sent harsh stabs of pain through his body. He tried
desperately to relax his muscles, hoping to make it easier for himself,
but couldn't. Every nerve ending in his body was alive with pain and his
mind simply rejected every effort he made.
 
 The assault continued, unrelenting, unending. Laurier's hoarse gasps
echoed obscenely in his ears, matching his thrusts. Renny's questing
fingers touched the iron bars of the bed frame and gripped them as though
they could somehow save him from this nightmare. Soon it would be over.
Soon. And then the gun would set him free.
 
 But when it was over, Laurier left the bed. Left him lying there. He
heard the rustle of clothing being donned and then the quiet opening and
closing of the door. Renny pressed his face into the pillow and sobbed.
 
 *
 
 Ray had thought he'd never see the familiar sight of Chicago's skyline
piercing the haze of pollution again. It surprised him to realise how much
he'd missed the Windy City. In any other circumstances he would have been
overjoyed to be back again.
 
 Frannie had called back after one of the longest days of his life to say
that Renny was living in the apartment, but there was no reply when she
rang. He hadn't turned up at the Consulate either. It all added up to
something very nasty. By that time it was too late to do anything that
night, so he'd arranged a flight, a very private flight, not listed with
any air traffic controller, for the following morning. Stella hadn't been
particularly upset to come home and find him packing, but then he hadn't
expected that she would. They'd been sleeping in separate bedrooms since
soon after their arrival in Florida.
 
 During the drive into the city Ray began making calls. First to the
Twenty-Seventh Precinct, to speak to Frannie. She'd called by the
apartment again last night and this morning, and found no sign of Renny.
Next the Consulate, where Meg Thatcher answered sounding more irritable
than usual. He didn't help matters by telling her that Renny was sick and
wouldn't be coming to work that day. Then he called a few select, unlisted
numbers and started asking some hard questions.
 
 Before he'd reached the Loop he had all the information he needed. He
found a convenient park on East Wacker a couple of blocks from the
apartment building that Laurier usually used when he was in Chicago and
walked the rest of the way.
 
 *
 
 As soon as he opened the door, Ray knew he was too late. Which was pretty
much what he'd expected, but his guts cramped all the same. Had he really
expected Laurier to pass up an opportunity like this?
 
 Renny lay in an awkward sprawl on the large bed. Too awkward to be
natural. For a horrible moment, Ray thought he must be dead. But then he
saw the leather cuffs tethering his ankles to either corner of the bed
frame, holding his legs wide apart. The handcuffs had been looped through
the frame on the left side and closed around each wrist, forcing Renny to
lie in a twisted position designed to make it impossible for him to be
comfortable.
 
 Comfort was out of the question anyway. His bare back and buttocks were
covered in bruises and reddened welts. Ray knew all too well what that
meant. Though he'd never allowed Laurier to go so far, this was what
passed for foreplay with the Canadian.
 
 He didn't know how long he'd have. Ray hurried over to the bed and
reached across it to touch Renny's shoulder. A weak shudder ran through
the long, rangy body but Renny's head remained buried between his arms.
 
 "Renny... it's okay, it's me." Even though the room was empty he spoke in
little more than a whisper.
 
 The sandy head lifted and Renny twisted around to look up at him.
"Ray..." His voice broke on a sob but he was smiling.
 
 Ray cupped his bruised cheek. "I'll get you out of here as fast as I can.
Did he leave the keys here?"
 
 "No." Renny's face grew worried. "Ray, he's never gone for very long and
I don't know how long it's been."
 
 "It's okay. Just hang on." He fished in his pocket for his own handcuff
keys, still on his key chain even though he no longer owned any handcuffs.
Usually one key would work on any of them.
 
 He'd got one wrist free and was bent over Renny's ankles, wrestling with
the stiff leather when Renny's choked cry alerted him. Too late. Ray
looked up into the barrel of Laurier's favourite gun and then past it to
the twin of his friend, his ex-lover John Laurier.
 
 "Armand, how nice to see you again." The smile, feral and cruel, was
worse than anything he'd seen before. This was Laurier without even his
usual thin veneer of civilisation. The gun barrel swung away from him then
back, hard.
 
 *
 
 He couldn't have been out long. When Ray woke he was tied to a chair and
Laurier was circling Renny like a shark with fresh meat. There were new
welts on Renny's back, some of them oozing blood.
 
 "John!" Ray managed not to flinch when Laurier's gaze found him. If the
man he'd known in Las Vegas had delighted in cruelty, this man was far
beyond that. There was something different, something not entirely sane,
in the doubly familiar face. He tried to make his voice seem quietly
reasonable. "John, you don't want him. You know I can give you more than
he ever could."
 
 "You're offering to take his place?" That smile again. "How sweet. You'd
really sacrifice yourself for him? Why?" Laurier's voice hardened on the
last word.
 
 Ray made himself return the smile. "Sacrifice? Is that what you think I
was doing in Vegas?" It was his best 'Armando' voice… easy, sexy, a little
arrogant.
 
 Laurier hesitated, looking down at Renny's prone figure. His face, when
it lifted again was confused, angry. "It wasn't because I looked like
him?"
 
 "That was a shock, I admit." He managed a casual shrug as best he could
with his hands tied behind his back. "John, would I put myself at risk
just to pretend I'm with someone else? You think I'm that crazy?"
 
 "Are you?" Laurier was drifting towards him. His hand dipped into his
jacket pocket and came out holding a gun. "Well, Armand?"
 
 "Where you're concerned, maybe." Ray met his eyes and tried to keep the
sick feeling off his face. "Look at him, John. He's a pale shadow of the
man you are."
 
 The blue eyes flickered, but the gun never wavered. "And you want me. Me.
Not him."
 
 "Not him. I want you."
 
 Laurier's hand lashed out, catching Ray across the lips. "You like it
rough, don't you, Armand?"
 
 "Yeah. You know I do. You know what I want." He licked the blood away
slowly.
 
 Ray leaned forward trying to look eager, and Laurier grabbed the front of
his jacket and hauled him bodily to his feet. He was pulled over to the
wall and pushed up against it, while Laurier pressed up close behind him.
Ray slid his fingers over the length of his erection.
 
 "Untie me John." His voice was low and husky.
 
 Laurier's hand, still holding the gun, slammed into the wall beside his
head. "Do. You. Think. I'm. A. Fool?" He bounced Ray's head off the wall
between each word.
 
 Shit. Ray struggled not to give way to the resulting dizziness. He
thought his nose was bleeding now. "No marks. That was the deal, John."
 
 "That was the deal with Armand. But you're not Armand." Laurier's voice
was now frighteningly calm. "There's a new deal now, dead man. You do
whatever I say, and I won't hurt your pathetic boyfriend. Are you going to
take it?"
 
 "Sure. I'll take it." What else could he do? Watch while Laurier beat and
raped Renny? There was no choice.
 
 Laurier made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. His gun hand
stayed where it was, only inches from Ray's nose, though it might as well
have been miles for all the chance Ray had of getting hold of it.
Laurier's left hand slid between the wall and Ray's body, finding his
pants and tugging at the belt impatiently. It came free at last and he
tore at the pants, managing to pull the button loose and drag the zipper
down. He stepped back for a moment and shoved Ray's pants and shorts down
off his hips.
 
 Ray leaned into the wall, his legs parted, knees slightly bent. Even so
the force of Laurier's penetration nearly threw him off balance. The pain
was nothing; he was used to that, but something inside him rebelled at
this use of his body. It didn't matter that he was doing it to protect
Renny. It didn't matter that Laurier had fucked him dozens of times in the
last few months. His mind, his body, told him it was wrong, a soul deep
wrongness that made his guts heave and his mind scream silently for it to
be over. He stared at the gun, back in place against the wall and clamped
his lips shut.
 
 And then it was over. Too soon… and every instinct he had cried warning.
Laurier's hand dragged Ray roughly around to face him. He leaned back
against the wall, needing its support. Then the hand pressed downwards and
his already shaky knees gave way.
 
 He was on his knees, face to face with Laurier's cock, jutting
purple-tipped and angry from his pants. A drop of precum gathered in the
slit and dribbled its way across the cockhead, and Ray saw tiny flecks of
shit on the burning skin. Laurier hadn't used a condom.
 
 There was no time to think about what might be a death sentence. He was
already as good as dead, anyway. Ray opened his mouth obedient to
Laurier's unspoken command, and the thick cock slammed into his mouth,
half choking him. He could taste the precum, and the shit, as Laurier
pounded into him, bouncing his head off the wall until Ray saw stars.
Eventually, he managed to cooperate, knowing that it was the only way to
end this quickly. He accepted the hot, sickening gush gratefully and
slumped back against the wall, his head bowed, gasping for breath.
 
 When he looked up again, Laurier was back beside the bed, belt in hand,
staring down at Renny.
 
 *
 
 It was only a matter of time… but the first thwack of leather on bare
flesh made Ray flinch reflexively. He fought the urge to look up, to see
the belt descend on Renny's pale skin. That wasn't going to get either of
them out of here alive. With a patience he once would never have believed
he was capable of, Ray turned his attention back to his bonds. They were
very slightly looser than they had been. Not loose enough though. Not
nearly loose enough.
 
 The sounds continued, but Renny was silent, as he had been ever since Ray
had woken tied to the chair. He worked at the ropes, relieved that Laurier
hadn't had two pairs of handcuffs. When he felt the trickle of blood on
his raw wrists, he was only thankful that the extra moisture would help.
 
 He'd thought that the sound of Renny's beating was sickening, but when it
stopped, he knew it was only the beginning. He couldn't stop himself
looking towards the bed. Laurier was kneeling on it, hands fumbling with
his pants. Beyond him, Renny's fists were clenched, white-knuckled, on the
iron railing of the bed; the long muscles of his arms were taut, but his
head was still hidden between them.
 
 "Laurier!" Ray's voice was desperate. He couldn't let this happen. He had
no way of stopping it, except by persuasion. "John, you can't do this."
 
 Laurier laughed and turned his head to look over his shoulder. "And how
are you going to stop me? Call in the Iguana family?"
 
 There was only one chance, and he didn't even know if it was the truth.
God knew he didn't want to say this in front of Renny. "For God's sake,
Laurier, look at him. He's your mirror image; and he's adopted, just like
you. He's your brother."
 
 Renny's body heaved. His head lifted at last and turned toward Ray. "Ray?
Ray, is it…"
 
 "Shut up!" Laurier slammed his gun hand into Renny's head. "Shut the fuck
up. If I see your face, I'm gonna blow your fucking head off. I'm not
warning you again."
 
 There was a brief silence as Renny subsided and Laurier visibly struggled
for control. Ray's heart was pounding painfully against his ribs. He
swallowed. "Laurier…"
 
 The gun was suddenly pointing in his direction. "I don't fucking care."
Laurier dragged in a shaken breath and grinned. "Keep it in the family,
eh, Armand?"
 
 "Don't do it, John." He didn't care that his voice was pleading. "You
don't wanna do this."
 
 The gun lowered uncertainly. "Don't I?" Laurier looked down at Renny. He
put the gun down on the bed and Ray heard the rasp of his zipper.
 
 He had to look away then, and do his best to tune out the sounds from the
bed as he struggled with his bonds. There wasn't going to be much time.
Laurier was losing control, losing his sanity in front of Ray's eyes. He
was almost certain that as soon as Laurier was finished with Renny he
would kill them both.
 
 Ideally, he should get his hands free, but it was clear enough that he
wouldn't have time for that. But now that Laurier's attention was focused
so completely on Renny, he could take a risk he wouldn't normally have
considered. The rope wasn't loose enough to let him free, but it might
just be enough… Ray wriggled, did his best to fold himself in half, and
managed to slide his backside and legs through the circle of his arms,
bringing them to the front.
 
 At least now he had a few more options. There wasn't much in the room he
could use as a weapon. Ray's eyes fixed on the gun, lying forgotten on the
bed beside Laurier and Renny's bodies. Two steps were all it would take,
but if Laurier were to have the slightest warning…
 
 His fingers, half numb, closed around the gun butt and fumbled for the
trigger. Laurier was still thrusting viciously into Renny's unmoving body,
but at the last moment his head came up and he began to turn. Without the
slightest hesitation Ray pulled the trigger. Blood exploded from the side
of Laurier's head and he dropped like a stone.
 
 Renny screamed hoarsely, dragged in a ragged breath and screamed again.
Laurier was lying on top of him, his shattered head over Renny's. The
screams died away to harsh sobbing breaths as Ray threw himself onto the
bed, pulling at Laurier's body. Renny cried out in pain this time, and Ray
realised, sickeningly, that Laurier's cock was still inside him. He
shifted his grip to Laurier's hips and eased him free.
 
 Now Laurier's body was between him and Renny. Ray hurried to the other
side of the bed and lifted Renny's blood soaked head. "It's over, okay? We
gotta get out of here. Can you help me?"
 
 It was the right thing to say. The Mountie in Renny came visibly to the
fore and he nodded, then shuddered as blood trickled down his cheek. Ray
grabbed the edge of a sheet and wiped the worst of it off.
 
 They were both a mess. Ray realised he was kneeling, naked from the hips
down, his hands still tied together, in front of a handcuffed and tethered
man who'd been badly abused. And they had to get out of there before
anybody came to investigate the sound of the shot. There was no way they
could afford to be found here with Laurier's body.
 
 Ray reached across Renny's body and searched Laurier's pockets for the
key to the handcuffs, ignoring the still hard cock poking out of the fly.
He found it and freed Renny's abraded wrists.
 
 He held his hands out. "Can you untie me?"
 
 "I think so." Renny's voice was shaky but superficially calm. He avoided
looking into Ray's face. But his fingers were almost as bad as Ray's and
he couldn't manage the knots. "I'm sorry…"
 
 "It's okay. I'm gonna look for a knife." He touched Renny's cheek
lightly. "Just take it easy. You're gonna have to walk a ways."
 
 He found a knife after a brief search. It wasn't very sharp, but Ray
managed to cut through the rope enough that his hands were free, even if
there was still rope around his wrists. That could come off later. He used
the knife to rip through the stitching on the leather ankle cuffs too, and
Renny was free.
 
 "Can you sit up?" He eased Renny into position, half sitting half leaning
against the bed head and left him there while he searched for the
Canadian's clothes.
 
 Everything was taking longer than it should. By the time he'd got Renny
dressed he was in a state of barely controlled panic. With one of Renny's
arms over his shoulder, he steered the still shocked man to the door. Then
it would be two flights of stairs; no risking taking the elevator with
them both in this state, and then the two blocks to the car he'd hired.
Or, dammit, just abandon that and call a cab. Except that any cab driver
worth his salt would remember two battered and shaking men, one in Mountie
uniform, leaving the scene of a homicide, once it hit the news. So it was
walk then…
 
 *
 
 Ray didn't even remember reaching the car. There were a few terrifying
memories of weaving dangerously fast through heavy traffic, but mostly he
remembered pulling up in the garage of his apartment building and dragging
Renny out of the car and into the elevator. God help them if anybody saw
them, but there was no way they could manage eight flights of stairs.
 
 He didn't think anybody did see them, but by then he was almost as
unsteady on his feet as Renny and beyond noticing. Reaction was setting
in. He'd killed before, but never a lover. Never the mirror image of his
lover. Never a man who'd raped him. Somehow he got Renny into the
apartment and onto the bed.
 
 The big Canadian was sickly white with shock, where he wasn't bruised,
and the weals on his back needed attending to. God only knew what internal
injuries there might be. He needed to go to hospital, but the staff would
insist on reporting them, and as soon as Laurier's death was discovered
they'd be toast. So he'd just have to do the best he could.
 
 He sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at his friend and lover. It
was the first real look he'd had since coming back to Chicago and having
his cover blown by Benny. God, how he'd missed him. Missed the innate
goodness; missed it even more than he had Benny's, since he'd had
Laurier's face to remind him what it was about Renny that he most loved.
He wondered if that sweetness would survive what had been done to him, and
thought that probably it would. He hoped so.
 
 The blue eyes opened and stared up at him. Ray bent over and kissed the
thin lips gently. "Renny, I gotta get you cleaned up, okay?"
 
 "Yes, Ray." There was a world of hurt, and need, in those eyes. But as he
slid an arm under Renny's broad shoulders, the Canadian pushed himself up
slowly, leaning against him in perfect trust.
 
 "You wanna have a bath?" Ray pulled off the boots and socks before
getting him on his feet.
 
 Renny stood swaying gently as Ray undressed him, making no move to
assist. Even so, he nearly fell as Ray peeled the undershirt over his
head. If he'd tried bending over to remove his jodhpurs he would have
ended up flat on his face.
 
 He led Renny into the bathroom and got the bath started running. It was a
large one, big enough for two, three if they got really friendly, and one
of the little indulgences he'd insisted on. He had no intention of getting
in it with Renny though, not after what he'd been through.
 
 But when the water was deep enough to make it worth while, and Renny was
settled in there, he reached out a large bony hand to Ray. Ray took it
without hesitation.
 
 "Ray would you… I don't want to be alone." Renny looked up at him, his
face quiet, but his eyes reflected the depth of his need. He never liked
to ask for anything, never wanted to demand more than his lovers were
willing to give. And he never understood that simply by being who he was,
and by loving them the way he did, he made huge demands on them. Demands
they would do anything to fulfil.
 
 A smile spread across Ray's face. It was so simple and honest a reaction
that it shocked him. He'd thought he could never feel like that again.
"I'd love to join you. I just wasn't sure if you… hang on."
 
 He stripped as quickly as he could, given that his hands were still
shaking and he was so stiff he could hardly move. He eased into the
steaming water with a groan, feeling it sting in places he didn't want to
think about. The water level was high enough now, and he turned off the
faucets and relaxed back into the water. At his side Renny hesitated a
moment then drifted against him. He raised an arm invitingly and a moment
later had a damp head resting on his shoulder, a long, hard body pressed
close to his side. He kissed the broad forehead lightly and they soaked in
silence for a while.
 
 After a while, being Renny, and almost like a child in some ways, he grew
restless. Ray felt the long fingers playing with his chest hair and
smiled. There was nothing sexual about it. When Renny wanted sex he went
at it with a single-mindedness that would have seduced a saint from his
celibacy. No, this was just playing prompted, no doubt, by a need for
safe, physical intimacy, for reassurance. And Ray knew exactly what
reassurance Renny needed.
 
 He let out a long sigh. "It wasn't you, when I came back last time. You
know that, don't you?"
 
 "I think so, Ray." Renny's head twisted up to look at him.
 
 "It wasn't." Ray cupped his hand over the bruised cheek and brushed his
thumb over Renny's swollen bottom lip. "I was… I guess I was lost. I was
still more Armando Langoustini than Ray Vecchio. I still am, I suppose.
And seeing you…"
 
 "You're not Armando, Ray." Renny's eyes were clear and sure on his.
"Armando would never have tried to rescue me. Nobody else I know would
have let… let someone rape him to protect me."
 
 "Some protection." Ray laughed bitterly. What his old man would have said
about that was something he'd rather not think about. But that wasn't
going to help Renny, and he let the old feelings of inadequacy slip away.
"I know I hurt you, but I didn't want to. I just couldn't tell you why I
reacted that way, without telling you about… about him…"
 
 The big body tensed against his and Renny's head was lowered, but his
fingers still teased absently at Ray's chest hairs. Ray waited. However
the question, when it came, wasn't the one he'd expected.
 
 "He was your lover, wasn't he?" The long fingers stilled at last and
flattened against his suddenly pounding heart. "Was it…" his breath caught
on a sob, "was it because of me?"
 
 "Yeah, he was my lover. But it wasn't because of you. He and Armando had
already got involved." That was close enough to the truth to work. "And I
already knew him. I'd arrested him once." His voice got very thin all of a
sudden and he had to consciously relax his throat muscles to be able to
continue. "He was… he knew me. Knew Ray Vecchio. I needed that."
 
 "Oh…" Renny's head came up again and he leaned away a little to look at
Ray. "I think I understand, Ray." He smiled sadly and leaned in to kiss
him.
 
 It was a nice kiss. The kind of kiss that wasn't going to lead to
anything, that couldn't lead to anything… not tonight, not anytime soon,
Ray suspected. When it finished he lay still, waiting. Renny's eyes asked
the question and his answered; they didn't need words. They kissed again,
and again, until the water was cooling and they had to wash each other
down and rinse off in the shower.
 
 Ray wrapped Renny in a thick robe, which was easier than trying to pat
him down with a towel, then bundled him into the wide bed in the master
bedroom. He dried himself off hurriedly and dressed in an old pair of RCMP
sweat pants and top, raided from Renny's drawer.
 
 He stroked his hand over the short springy hair. "You need to see a
doctor. Got any ideas?"
 
 Renny blinked up at him drowsily. "There's a man. He's a friend of
Fraser's. 555 3050."
 
 "You trust him?" Ray waited for a nod of confirmation and then went out
into the hallway to make the call. He didn't want Renny hearing what he
had to say.
 
 *
 
 Two hours later, he was sitting on the bed, with Renny's head on his lap
while a complete stranger performed an internal exam on his lover. There
wasn't a sound, but he felt the big body tense and began to stroke his
hair gently. A large hand clutched at his other hand and he tightened his
fingers around it. It seemed to be taking far too long, but when Ray
thought to look at the clock it had only been a few minutes.
 
 Dr Springfield straightened with a grimace and peeled off his latex
gloves. "There's nothing too serious there… a bit of rectal tearing and
some bruising. I've administered an antibiotic suppository, and I'll leave
you some tablets, for that and the wounds. There's also some antiseptic
cream."
 
 "Thanks. I appreciate you coming here. It isn't something his boss needs
to find out about." Ray looked up at the older man and hoped like Hell
that he accepted the explanation. It was true enough, he supposed, even if
Meg Thatcher was too busy, with the Consulate denuded of staff, and, to
make things worse, in the middle of yet another change of premises, to
care too much.
 
 He was subjected to a searching stare. "You look like you could have run
into the same people. I'll examine you in the bathroom if you prefer."
 
 "Sure." Ray repressed a sigh and bent over Renny. "You okay? I won't be
long."
 
 Renny nodded wordlessly. He pulled the covers over the curled up body and
kissed his cheek. And went into the bathroom.
 
 "Mr Vecchio, before I go I'll take some blood samples for testing."
Springfield looked at him with a wary sympathy. "They'll establish a
baseline for later tests. You should both have another test after six
weeks and again at three and six months."
 
 "Sure." He knew what Springfield was talking about. HIV… but after what
they'd escaped, he wasn't really able to care very much. Later that would
change, but for now he welcomed the numbness. "I know the drill. That
all?" Maybe the examination had just been an excuse to discuss this away
from Renny.
 
 But the doctor was busy pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. This time Ray
did sigh. "Let's make this quick, okay? I'm not hurt bad." He dropped the
sweat pants and leaned over the washbasin, resignation uppermost in his
mind.
 
 The exam didn't take long and, as Ray had expected, there was no real
damage. At least none that was physical. Once the blood samples had been
taken Ray paid off the doctor in cash and closed the apartment door behind
him with a strong sense of relief.
 
 Renny was half-asleep, his lashes drooping over reddened eyes. Ray
guessed he must be exhausted, not just from his injuries, but from the
appalling stress of the last day and a half. He perched gingerly on the
edge of the bed and Renny's lashes barely flickered. Springfield had given
Renny a sedative, and at last it seemed to be taking effect.
 
 Ray sat watching him, feeling more helpless than he ever had since that
time he'd shot Benny. This was just as bad. After a moment he began to
stroke Renny's damp hair with the lightest of touches and the thin lips
curved into a faint smile. A smile that was almost identical to the one
Renny had worn that first day that Ray had really seen him as a person and
not just another red-coated Mountie.
 
 He couldn't remember, now, why it had taken him so long. Maybe it was
just the way that Benny had always treated Renny like he wasn't even
there; unless he'd been forced, because of some klutzy mistake Renny had
made, to acknowledge the younger Mountie. Then one day it had struck Ray
that the expression on Renny's face must be very like the one he'd worn
for so long. A kind of hopeless longing for something he could never have.
Only Ray had eventually found that he could have what he wanted more than
anything in this world, and Renny knew he could not.
 
 Ray remembered that glance of understanding they'd shared, and the small,
sad smile that Renny had given him. Something had passed between them that
day that had sparked an interest in each other. It had taken a while, but
slowly they'd grown closer together until it was inevitable that they
should become lovers, even in the face of Benny's intense disapproval.
Maybe even, and Ray grinned at the thought, because of Benny's
disapproval.
 
 Benny never had been able to see past the awkward exterior that Renny
presented to the world. An exterior that masked a wayward intelligence and
one of the kindest hearts that Ray had ever encountered. They would never
love each other with the kind of soul-deep intensity that he shared with
Benny, but his relationship with Renny was deeply satisfying in so many
ways that Ray could no longer imagine his life without either of his
lovers.
 
 Renny stirred drowsily. "What are you smiling for, Ray?"
 
 "I was thinking about…" Ray cupped his hand against Renny's flushed
cheek. "About us. About how loving you is one of the best things I've ever
done."
 
 The blue eyes lit up and the smile brightened a little. "Everything will
be all right, won't it Ray?"
 
 "Sure." Ray bent down to kiss his lover. "Of course it will."
 
 *
 
 An igloo. They were sleeping in a fucking igloo. Even the Inuit they'd
met didn't do that any more. They lived in houses like normal people. Only
Fraser thought living in an igloo was a good idea. Ray listened to the
wind howling outside and shivered, in spite of the fact that it was warm
and musty inside, and he had a large warm body lying very close to his
under a pile of sleeping bags, blankets and a couple of furs. Even Dief
had abandoned the pile to lie a little closer to the entry. His eyes
glowed in the faint red wash from the remaining embers of the fire.
 
 A heavy arm slid across his back pulling him closer, and a drowsy sigh
sent a gust of hot air over his skin. Without speaking Ray turned into the
encircling arm and snuggled closer. Maybe living in an igloo had
compensations. They kissed slowly, tasting each other, exploring territory
long familiar but still enticing.
 
 Between their bodies his cock stirred lazily, matching the stirring he
felt against his thigh. Ray rubbed his fingertips in slow circles around
Fraser's nipples, knowing that it drove his lover crazy. Sure enough, the
kisses deepened and Fraser began humping his thigh. He moaned softly into
Fraser's mouth.
 
 They'd been alone together now, just the two of them… three if you
counted Dief, and you had to count Dief, he supposed… for over five weeks.
Twenty-four hours a day. And neither of them had gone crazy and killed the
other, or got into a screaming match and walked off. Not that there was
anywhere you could walk off to… well, maybe Fraser could. But he hadn't.
Some time towards the end of the second week… the passing of the days was
getting difficult to calculate when it was dark nearly all the time, Ray
had stopped expecting anything bad to happen unless it was related to the
weather.
 
 Fraser loved him. Impossible as that seemed to him sometimes, it was
true. Sure it was obvious that he still loved Ray Vecchio, but Ray Vecchio
was in Florida and with any luck he'd stay there. And he, Ray Kowalski,
was here in the wilds of Canada, sleeping, or more accurately, making out
with Fraser. In an igloo. Vecchio could have Florida…
 
 He scooted down a bit and began to suck on Fraser's nipples. The humping
increased in tempo a little. He humped back. His fingers slid down
impossibly smooth skin to toy with the dense patch of hair surrounding
Fraser's cock. The only place he had any significant hair except for his
head. Ray massaged the firm pubic mound beneath the soft wiry curls and
grinned when Fraser's hips bucked against him. Who knew what would turn
this guy on?
 
 Well, there was one thing that was always a winner. His fingers drifted
up the length of that hard Mountie cock and began to slide the foreskin
back. It moved easily across the wet cockhead, and he slid it forward
again, sending shivers through both of them. Fraser's movements stilled
and they began to kiss again, still in silence. Fraser was always quiet
when they made love, unlike him. He liked to yell.
 
 Tiny tremors spread through both of them and Fraser began to thrust
slowly against his fingers. Ohhhh… God…. Ray pressed closer and wrapped
his hand around both their cocks. Fraser moaned quietly as they moved in
unison.
 
 Fraser caressed Ray's cheek wetly with his tongue, then plunged it into
his ear. "Ray…"
 
 "Ohhh, yeaaaahh…" he arched his back, increasing the pressure on their
cocks.
 
 A large hand clasped his butt firmly and he reciprocated, placing both
hands on Fraser's deliciously firm, rounded cheeks. Their hips ground
together with increasing fervour and Ray rolled onto his back, pulling
Fraser over on top of him. Fraser rode him in hard, measured strokes,
never once losing control. Ray rocked his hips in time with him. The
pleasure built and built to a crescendo.
 
 "Ohhh, fuck…" Ray threw his head back, feeling the first inexorable
contractions. "Oh fuck Frase… fuuuucckkk…" his hips bucked wildly and his
fingers dug into the hard muscle, "fuck, fuck… fuuuckk!" he shot his load
and collapsed, panting, beneath the dead weight of his lover.
 
 In the sudden silence Dief whined disgustedly and shifted his position.
 
 "You're just jealous because yer not gettin' any." Ray threw an amused,
irritated glance towards the wolf, whose head was pointedly averted. "You
could always go sleep outside with the sled dogs. Ya might even get
lucky."
 
 "Ray, please. There's no need to antagonise him. It's going to be a long
trip." Fraser still sounded a bit breathless.
 
 "He started it."
 
 Fraser sighed. "He just thinks you're… well, unnecessarily noisy. Pay him
no mind."
 
 "I'll bet he never said that about Vecchio." Hell, where had that come
from? There was a hurt silence. "I'm sorry… forget I ever said it, okay?"
 
 "All right, Ray." Neutral tone. No clue as to what Fraser was thinking,
let alone feeling.
 
 "Frase…" Ray planted a quick kiss on his lips as Fraser moved away. He
didn't go far, just settled down at his side as they'd been before. "Look,
I know you still love him. That's okay. I'm okay with it." Most of the
time…
 
 "I love you Ray. Don't you trust me yet?" Fraser's voice was quiet.
Definitely hurt, though whether it was over Vecchio, or him, Ray didn't
know.
 
 "Yeah, I do, Frase. It's just sometimes…" he thought about it for a
moment, "…sometimes I just wonder whether you love him better than me.
Whether, if he wanted you back, you'd leave me."
 
 "Ray, Ray, Ray…" Fraser's voce was amused now. "Why do you do this to
yourself? I can't tell you if I love you more, or Ray. It's like asking
whether apples or bananas are better."
 
 "I don't like bananas."
 
 Fraser ignored him. "And if Ray wanted me back… why should I chose one or
the other of you? I would have thought it was obvious from our… our other
arrangements that choosing between you was unnecessary."
 
 "Oh." He didn't know what to say to that. And he admitted to himself,
finally, that there was something between Fraser and Vecchio that he would
never have. Never could have, even though he'd follow Fraser to the ends
of the earth. Hell, he had followed Fraser to the ends of the earth. He
had, not Vecchio. Apples and bananas. He grinned, reassured at last. "So…
if it ever happens, can I be the apple?"
 
 *
 
 It seemed strange to be back at the stationhouse again. Last time he'd
left Ray had thought he'd never be coming back, but he needed a job, and
there was only one job he really knew how to do. And, if he was working as
a cop again, he might get some news on what was happening over Laurier.
Sooner or later his connection with Laurier would come out. Maybe this way
he'd get a bit of warning, a chance to cover his tracks. At least he could
protect Renny better, he hoped. Ray took a deep breath and knocked on the
door of his boss' office.
 
 Lt Welsh looked up from his current stack of files with a resigned
expression on his face that didn't quite conceal his pleasure. "So you're
back. You weren't in Florida very long."
 
 "It was too hot." Ray shrugged casually. "Stella and me, it didn't work
out too good. So I thought I'd come back."
 
 "No doubt you'll be looking for a job." He waved towards a chair and
watched as Ray sank into it rather stiffly. "It just so happens there's an
opening."
 
 Ray grinned. "I thought there might be."
 
 "We've had quite the outbreak of crime in the last few days." Welsh
tossed a folder over to his new recruit. "Strictly speaking it's not our
jurisdiction, but we've been asked to help out."
 
 Ray flipped open the folder, watching Welsh warily, but the weathered
face gave nothing away. He glanced down at an eight by ten glossy of John
Laurier's shattered head, and slumped back in the chair fighting nausea.
 
 "It's seems that the gentleman in question, though bearing a remarkable
resemblance to a certain Mountie of our acquaintance, had strong
connections to the Canadian criminal fraternity. Perhaps you remember him?
You arrested him once." Welsh stared at him with a mildly encouraging
expression on his face.
 
 "Yeah, I remember." Ray ran a hand over his face. "So, what happened?"
 
 "Read the report." But when Ray made no move to look at it again, the
lieutenant continued. "He was found dead in an apartment belonging to a
certain… shall we say, businessman of dubious reputation? The only other
prints found in the apartment, apart from the cleaning staff, were on
record as matching those of Armando Langoustini. Apparently this gentleman
knew Langoustini."
 
 "That's right." He forced himself to meet Welsh's eyes. He wondered if
Welsh knew that his fingerprints had been placed in Langoustini's file.
"What are you gonna do?"
 
 "I haven't decided yet. Let's just say I'm gathering evidence." Welsh
rubbed his chin. "I called the Consulate this morning. It seems Constable
Turnbull has been off work sick for several days. A viral infection, I'm
told."
 
 "That's what they told me. He's been flat on his back for days."
 
 "So he would have no connection to this incident?" Welsh lifted his
eyebrows questioningly.
 
 Ray shrugged again. "Guess not."
 
 "It's quite the coincidence that both Ray Vecchio and Armando Langoustini
should know this man. A man who looks so much like a close friend of
yours. And that Ray Vecchio should suddenly turn up in Chicago two days
after his death. Especially since Armando Langoustini is now the prime
suspect in the murder."
 
 "Coincidences happen, Lou. Like Laurier looking like Turnbull. Just
coincidence. They've got nothing to do with each other." Ray kept his
voice level, disinterested. He'd never thought he'd be grateful for
Langoustini's legendary control, but he was now.
 
 Welsh leaned across the desk, holding his hand out for the file and Ray
passed it to him. "Ray, I can't help you or Turnbull if you won't trust
me."
 
 "I told you. It's got nothing to do with him." Ray thought fast. If he
could just keep Renny out of it… "Look… Laurier and Langoustini, they were
kinda friendly, okay? So it figures that after Langoustini disappears in
Chicago that Laurier would come here and start hunting around. So maybe he
poked his nose into something he shouldn't have."
 
 "And?" Welsh looked at him sceptically.
 
 "How should I know? I wasn't here." He'd made damn sure he'd laid a false
trail for his return to Chicago. Everything pointed to him arriving the
day after Laurier had died, so he put every ounce of sincerity he
possessed into his voice. "Hell, for all I know the Feds might have got
rid of him because he found out too much about their operation."
 
 "Don't play me for a fool, Ray." Welsh ignored Ray's mild protestation of
innocence. "If you tell me what happened, I'll do everything I can to help
you."
 
 He obviously wasn't going to let go, and the more Welsh probed the more
likely it was that Renny would be dragged into this. There was only one
thing Ray could do now…
 
 "I killed him." Ray held his arms out, wrists together. "You gonna arrest
me?"
 
 His heart was pounding frantically. If he went down for this, Renny would
be on his own. He'd sent off a message to Fraser and Kowalski yesterday,
but even if Frobisher was right about the route they were taking, it could
be days, or even weeks before they got it. Still, if this was the only way
he could keep Renny out of it, then he'd take it. And then pull in every
favour the Feds owed him to get out alive.
 
 Welsh sighed wearily. "It might come to that, but not if I can avoid it.
Talk to me Ray."
 
 All the fight drained out of him suddenly. Ray dropped his head into his
hands. "I knew he was going to come after me. That's why I got out of
here." He looked up again at Welsh's impassive face. "I didn't want to
kill him. I came back because… just because. I found out where he was
staying and I went to see him. He went crazy. Hit me over the head with
his gun, tied me up. He was gonna kill me. I managed to get free, but he
came back. So I shot him."
 
 "Before or after you had sex with him?" Welsh cocked his head. "It was
you, wasn't it?"
 
 It ought to bother him that Welsh knew that, but it didn't. Ray shrugged
listlessly. "I thought it would keep him happy. I was wrong."
 
 "And Constable Turnbull was not in any way involved… I ask because it
seems just a tad unlikely that a man who was both taller and heavier than
you would obligingly lie face down on a bed to allow you to shoot him from
behind." Welsh's voice was deceptively mild.
 
 "I already told you." The words came out too fast, too angry. He leaned
back into the chair and forced himself to relax. "There was nobody else."
 
 Welsh's eyes dropped. "I see. So you're claiming it was self defence?"
 
 "I guess." As long as Welsh was willing to keep Renny out of it, Ray
decided, he'd confess to anything.
 
 The lieutenant considered that for a moment. "The gun?"
 
 Ray shrugged. "It was Laurier's. Anyway, I threw it off the end of Navy
Pier."
 
 "No doubt if the Feds were to hear about this, they'd be all over this
stationhouse, wanting to suppress the evidence." Welsh flipped a couple of
pages over then closed the folder. "I hate that. Disrupts the whole
Precinct."
 
 It took a moment for what Welsh had said to sink in. Ray looked up.
"You're not gonna arrest me?"
 
 "That's up to you. Since you have first hand experience with the Mob, I'm
giving you the case." Welsh tossed the file onto the desk. "Welcome back,
Ray."
 
 Ray could only stare at him open-mouthed.
 
 *
 
 Ray hadn't wanted him to come to work, but Renny had insisted; after all
he hadn't really had any option after taking most of last week off. In two
more days they'd be moving into the new Consulate on the twenty-fourth
floor of a high-rise office building in the Downtown area and it was
impossible for him to take any more time off work. Besides, Ray was
starting work at the Twenty-Seventh Precinct today and he didn't want to
stay in the apartment alone. Ray had driven him to the Consulate and had
promised to pick him up if he could, and if not, he would take a cab home.
 
 He'd thought he could manage all right, but within half an hour he was
standing at attention before Inspector Thatcher being thoroughly
reprimanded.
 
 She stopped in mid-tirade. "Are you all right?"
 
 "Yes, Sir." Renny tried to draw himself up even straighter. As she
continued to stare at him, he realised that there was in fact something
wrong. He hastily wiped the moisture from his cheeks. "Sorry, Sir."
 
 A small crease appeared between her brows. "Would you like to go home,
Constable? Perhaps you need more time to recover from that virus."
 
 "No Sir!" He pulled himself up short with an effort. "That is, I… I'd
rather stay, Sir."
 
 "I see." Thatcher inspected him from head to toe and Renny fought to
remain suitably impassive. Just like he'd seen Fraser do under similar
circumstances. "Well, you could stand guard for an hour. There's some
filing that needs to be done." She looked at him doubtfully. "And…"
 
 "The upstairs rooms are really quite disgraceful, Sir. I don't think
those cleaners…"
 
 "Yes, very well Constable. See to it." Thatcher interrupted him,
impatience suddenly getting the better of her concern. "Dismissed. And,
er… tidy yourself up."
 
 "Thank you, Sir." He hurried off to the bathroom to wash his face, trying
to hide his relief. The filing would keep him occupied, and while he stood
guard, he would be able to use the techniques he'd been taught to keep his
mind away from unsuitable reflections. He could do those things; it was
just that dealing with people was too difficult for him right now. He
would do his duty. In spite of Constable Fraser and Inspector Thatcher's
low opinions of him, he was a Mountie after all. He'd been through the
same training they'd had, and had graduated just as they had. He would be
able to get through the day; and one day at a time was all he could hope
to deal with at the moment. He just hoped that Ray would be able to finish
work on time. The thought of being alone in the apartment was terrifying.
 
 *
 
 The face in the mirror stared back at him impassively. The same face that
he'd lived with all his life, except that he no longer thought of it as
his own. He reached out to trace the line of the moustache and goatee
beard on the cool glass. They were invisible, now, but etched on his
memory. Perhaps he should grow it back… but Ray insisted on shaving him
now. Ray had hidden his razor and used an electric razor, which didn't
shave as close.
 
 Ray worried about him, but really, he didn't need to. He was able to look
after himself, he was able to carry out his duties perfectly well at work,
most of the time, and even cook dinner for Ray in the evenings. Ray didn't
like it when he looked in the mirror this way. He'd tried to stop, if only
to please Ray, but he just couldn't. The man in the mirror kept calling to
him.
 
 The eyes in the mirror bored into him and the thin lips parted. There was
no sound, but he didn't need to hear the words, or to lip read, as Fraser
did. He knew what the man in the mirror was saying. The face became
distorted, angry; the eyes blazed with hostility. Without warning the top
of his head exploded in a red splatter of blood and brain tissue. For a
moment the angry mouth continued to move, then what remained of the face
shattered into a dozen fragments and disappeared.
 
 *
 
 It was quiet in the apartment when Ray opened the door, too quiet. Every
time he wasn't able to pick Renny up from the Consulate it was the same;
his stomach would tie itself up in knots at the thought of what Renny
might do. Probably he'd just find him standing in front of the one
remaining mirror, in the bathroom. Ray had removed all the others days
ago, frightened by the intensity of Renny's obsession with his own
reflection.
 
 He went straight to the bathroom, but it was empty, and the mirror was in
pieces on the floor. His heart began a rapid thumping and his mouth went
dry. "Renny? Where are ya?"
 
 There was no answer and he set out on a frantic search of the apartment.
Renny wasn't anywhere. Finally he went back to the bathroom hoping to find
some kind of clue. This time he actually went into the room, and there was
his lover in the corner, sitting on the floor, head bowed over his bloody
hands.
 
 "Renny." Ray went over and crouched in front of him. He touched the flat
plane of Renny's cheek, raising his head. The blankness in those blue eyes
was more disturbing even than the blood. "Come on, love, let's get this
cleaned up."
 
 He made no attempt to resist as Ray got him on his feet and led him into
the kitchen. Even a cursory examination was enough to convince Ray that
the wounds would need to be stitched. He wrapped a clean kitchen towel
around the injured hand and went to call Dr Springfield.
 
 *
 
 The bedroom was silent, even though Ray knew Renny was awake. The
situation was getting out of control and he was beginning to wonder if
Fraser and Kowalski had got his message, or whether they'd missed it and
he was on his own. The thought was becoming increasingly frightening. He
wasn't able to be with Renny every moment of the day, and what he'd found
when he came home tonight indicated that he could no longer be sure that
Renny would not try to injure himself.
 
 He looked across at Renny's head, lying on the pillow on the far side of
the bed. Usually they slept in different rooms now, but tonight he'd
needed to stay close and Renny hadn't objected. They'd never talked about
Laurier's death, and Ray had hoped that when Renny was ready, he'd bring
it up himself. Now it was obvious that he was going to have to do it, and
since that was the case, he might as well start now. He for sure wasn't
going to get any sleep tonight.
 
 "Hey, Renny, you awake?" Ray touched the broad shoulder gently.
 
 A quiet sigh and Renny rolled onto his side to face him. "Yes, Ray."
 
 "Come here." Ray gathered him into a loose embrace and Renny's head
settled on his shoulder, his favourite position. That, at least, was
encouraging. Ray ran his fingers over the short hair. "You wanna talk
about it?"
 
 Silence.
 
 "Look, I know…" Ray hesitated. "I mean, it's weird… scary… to know
somebody else has your face. Someone who's so unlike you that…" he stopped
as the man in his arms tried to pull free. The last thing he wanted to do
was forcibly restrain him, but he didn't dare let Renny escape either.
 
 "You don't know, Ray. Armando wasn't your brother." Renny sounded close
to tears already.
 
 Ray turned to lie facing him. His fingers stroked the damp cheek
tenderly. "We don't know Laurier was your brother. I just said that to
stop him, okay?"
 
 Hot liquid spilled onto his fingers. "Ray… I know…" Renny's voice broke
and he swallowed audibly. "All my life I've… I've felt things, and I never
knew why."
 
 "But…" Ray fell silent when Renny's fingers touched his lips.
 
 "I felt him die, Ray. I felt it."
 
 He remembered those screams. At the time he'd simply thought they were
the result of pain and fear that had been suppressed for too long. Dear
God… His arms tightened suddenly. Too tight… Renny protested wordlessly
and he eased off. "Oh, baby…" he covered the wet face with gentle kisses
and stroked his fingers up and down the long back as it shook with sobs.
 
 "Why, Ray? Why did he hate me so much?" The words were choked out between
sobs. "I don't understand…"
 
 "Shh…" Ray tightened his hold again, more carefully this time, and Renny
accepted it. Of course he wouldn't understand; it wasn't in his nature to
hate, or even hold a grudge. "Lissen… are you sure you want to hear it?
It's not… not very nice, Renny."
 
 Renny's face turned up to his. There was just enough light for Ray to see
the tear tracks on his cheeks and the bright gleam of his eyes. "Please."
 
 "Okay." He kissed the parted lips gently. "He… Laurier… right from the
start he was pretty crazy. Maybe not in the usual way, but it was like he
didn't care about anything much except getting what he wanted. Armando was
like that too. Maybe that's what they saw in each other. It was always a
struggle with him, to hold him back. And after a while, I couldn't.
Armando couldn't.
 
 "And pain, other people's pain, turned him on." Ray thought about it for
a minute. "He was arrogant. The only one who mattered was him. It
fascinated him to know that Armando looked so much like Ray Vecchio. I
used to get him to talk about it sometimes, just to remind myself that Ray
Vecchio ever existed." Looking back, now, he thought he must have been
mad… "I think he was… I dunno… disgusted by it a bit, and turned on by it
too. He asked me once if I wanted to kill Vecchio. Scared the Hell out of
me, 'cause I thought he was offering to do it for me."
 
 Renny was watching his face, and God only knew what he saw there. Ray
forced himself to continue. "What I think… I don't know, but I think it
would have driven him crazy to know that he wasn't unique. That there was
someone else who looked so much like him his own mother wouldn't have
known the difference. He had to be the only one."
 
 "He wouldn't let me look at him. Or speak." Renny shivered. "He said he'd
kill me if he saw my face."
 
 Ray's stomach lurched sickeningly. Laurier in control and an ally had
been frightening enough. Laurier, half crazy and an enemy, was something
he didn't want to think about. And Laurier had had Renny for more than a
day and a half.
 
 "It's over now. You've gotta go on." Yeah, right. Like he had. He was
barely back on his feet after being Armando, so how the Hell was he
supposed to help Renny through something like this? "You gotta talk to me
when things get bad, Renny. When it gets too much for you, okay? And I'll
try to… to make it easier for you. We've only got each other, so we gotta
stick together, right?
 
 "All right, Ray." Renny settled into his arms and wrapped his long arm
around Ray's waist. "I wonder what they're doing now?"
 
 "Ah who knows… jumping off cliffs probably. I sure hope Kowalski knew
what he was letting himself in for." He tightened his arm in a brief hug
and got a sleepy giggle in reply.
 
 Maybe they could do it. Maybe.
 
 *
 
 Ray rummaged in the back of the shelf, sure that there must be something
better than dried caribou to take with them. This was his last chance.
When they left here there weren't going to be any more stores, just lots
and lots of snow and ice.
 
 "Ray."
 
 He ignored Fraser's call. There had to be something…
 
 "Ray. Ray. Ray."
 
 He sighed. Sounded like Fraser was serious about whatever it was… He
abandoned the search and headed over to the counter. Fraser was reading a
note, and when he looked up Ray knew it was something bad by the way he
was rubbing his left eyebrow.
 
 "Frase, what's up?" He put his hand on Fraser's shoulder.
 
 "A message from… from Ray…" Fraser held out the paper for him to read.
 
 There wasn't much on it, just that they should return to Chicago, ASAP.
And that Renny needed their help. No reason to make the blood drain from
his face and a sick feeling settle in his stomach. He watched numbly while
Fraser arranged for the sled dogs to be taken care of and the sled put
into storage. There was a light aircraft that could take them to the next
town, two hundred kilometres away. From there they should be able to get
another flight to Whitehorse. It would cut well over a week off their
journey, and the message had been waiting for six days already.
 
 *
 
 A crash of gunfire woke him with a start and Ray flung himself to the
floor before he realised that it was coming from the television. He swore
under his breath and reached for the remote. After a short break to allow
his heartbeat to return to something like normal, Ray dragged himself back
onto the couch and yawned. It wasn't even that late, just after ten p.m.,
but Renny had gone to bed an hour ago.
 
 He was in danger of falling asleep again when a soft knock came on the
door. Ray struggled to his feet and ambled over. He opened the door and
froze.
 
 "Hello Ray." Fraser gave him a hesitant smile. "You're looking well."
 
 It felt like he was back in that damned hotel room and for a horrible
moment he thought it had all been a dream and he'd have to go through the
nightmare of the last few weeks all over again. When he didn't answer or
move Fraser's smile faded.
 
 Behind Fraser, Kowalski shifted restlessly. "You gonna let us in?"
 
 Instead of moving back out of the way, he stepped forward, since that was
the only direction his body would let him go. Into Benny's arms. They
closed around him and for the first time in over a year Ray felt he was
truly himself again. Their lips clung for long moments then reluctantly
parted.
 
 Ray stepped back. "I guess you'd better come in."
 
 A smile lurked in Fraser's eyes, but he lifted his small backpack and
walked past Ray, followed by Kowalski, also carrying a pack. He followed
them into the lounge. "Where's Dief?"
 
 "He's in quarantine overnight." Fraser sank down onto the couch while
Kowalski took an armchair. They were both watching him. "Ray, your
message…"
 
 Ray sat beside Fraser, keeping a small, discreet distance. "I know… just
give me a minute, okay?"
 
 The two of them exchanged a glance. It was obvious that they'd agreed
that Fraser would do all the talking. In the short time Ray had known
Kowalski, he hadn't noticed that patience was a major part of his
character.
 
 He pressed his hands to his face for a moment. "Benny, you remember
Laurier?"
 
 It was a rhetorical question; Benny never forgot anything. But he watched
as the blue eyes widened.
 
 "I don't know him. How about you fill me in?" Kowalski leaned forward.
 
 "Well, Ray, Laurier is a member of the Canadian Mob. Ray and I arrested
him over two years ago." Fraser cast a worried glance at Ray. "But I
suspect that the most significant attribute of Mr Laurier is that he bears
a quite remarkable resemblance to Turnbull."
 
 "He used to Benny. He's dead." Saying the words was enough to make the
sick feeling return, and Ray stood up and stretched. "You want anything to
drink? Coffee? Tea, Benny?" Anything to postpone the rest of it.
 
 Fraser followed him into the kitchen. "Ray, what happened? Is Turnbull
here?"
 
 "Yeah, he's sleeping." Ray set the electric jug to heat. "How about you
fill Kowalski in while I get the drinks ready?"
 
 He took his time over it, not wanting to hear what Benny had to tell
Kowalski. When he went out with the mugs, they were sitting in silence.
 
 "How about you tell us what's going on, Vecchio?" Kowalski was
practically vibrating with energy. "We come all the way back from the
North Pole 'cause of your message and you just wanna talk about some dead
guy?"
 
 "Ray!"
 
 Ray over-rode Fraser's protest. "Can it Kowalski." He took a sip of his
coffee. "Laurier knew Armando Langoustini."
 
 Kowalski sniggered. "In the biblical sense?"
 
 "Yeah." Ray saw with satisfaction that the grin had disappeared off
Kowalski's face. On his other side, Fraser was absolutely still. "So when
Armando Langoustini disappeared, it was on the cards that Laurier would
wanna find out what happened."
 
 "That's why you wanted us to stay away?" Fraser looked at him
searchingly. "Why you went to Florida?"
 
 "Except Renny came back. Why the Hell didn't you tell us?" Kowalski threw
himself to his feet. "What's happened to him?"
 
 "Keep your voice down, dammit. I told ya. He's sleeping." Ray swallowed a
burning mouthful of coffee, waiting until Kowalski dropped back into the
chair before continuing. "It doesn't matter why. What matters is, when
Laurier got to Chicago he started asking questions, and he found Renny."
His voice gave him away. Fraser's hand clasped his arm gently but Ray
ignored him. "Laurier was… he wasn't exactly sane."
 
 "A psychopath." Fraser supplied the information quietly.
 
 "Whatever. He got hold of Renny, but he couldn't stand the fact that they
had the same face. It drove him over the edge." He knew, now, some of the
things Laurier had done in those forty or so hours. He wasn't about to
tell the two of them all of it. But some things were, inevitably, going to
come out. "Laurier beat Renny, with his belt; and he raped him. I don't
know how many times."
 
 "Go on." Kowalski's voice, hard edged.
 
 "I'd heard Renny was back here, so I came back too. I was too late to
prevent Laurier getting hold of him, but at least I knew where to start
looking. Didn't take me long to find him." Ray paused, remembering the
sight of his lover stretched out on that bed. Remembering the stink of
cordite and blood, and the sound of Renny's screams. "I killed Laurier."
 
 They were both staring at him in silence. Fraser cleared his throat. "It
was self defence, Ray."
 
 He smiled at Fraser's faith in him. "It doesn't matter. I can't prove it.
I shot him in the back of the head, while he was…" at last his voice gave
way and he fell silent.
 
 A familiar pair of arms came around his shoulders and he leaned in
against Fraser's chest, and shook. Gentle fingers stroked over the back of
his head, as he'd done for Renny night after night. Somehow it gave him
the courage to go on. If Renny could do it, so could he.
 
 "He was raping Renny when I shot him. I had to pull him off." His voice
was thick with emotion and he swallowed, trying to get control of it.
"He'd raped me too. He was losing it badly. After he'd finished with
Renny, I'm pretty sure he was gonna kill us both."
 
 The couch moved slightly as Kowalski's weight came down on his other
side. A hand touched his shoulder lightly. "You did the right thing."
 
 "I had to keep Renny out of it. He wasn't in any state to talk about it.
He still isn't. Not to strangers… police." He pulled away from Fraser.
"Laurier was his brother. His twin brother. I haven't tried to find out
for sure, but he knew. He said he felt Laurier die."
 
 "You believe him." Fraser searched his face.
 
 Ray shrugged, still fighting for control. "I saw what happened when
Laurier died. And how Renny was afterwards. He's better now, a bit. I was
really scared for a while."
 
 "He's gonna be okay, though, isn't he?" Kowalski's voice was anxious.
 
 "He'll be better now you're both here." Ray turned to Kowalski. "He's
gonna need all of us."
 
 "We'll help you both, Ray." Fraser's voice was quietly determined. "Are
you all right?"
 
 The gentle inquiry nearly set him off again. "Yeah. It wasn't so
different from what he was like in bed… except…"
 
 "Except it was rape." Kowalski finished it for him.
 
 "Yeah." He would have said more, but a sound from the bedroom had him on
his feet. "I gotta go see to him. Hang on."
 
 Renny was still sleeping, but the covers were scattered, and his broad
chest heaved with each breath. Ray touched his arm lightly and waited for
him either to settle into deeper sleep, or wake. After a moment the blue
eyes opened.
 
 "I'm sorry, Ray." Renny trembled slightly under his hand.
 
 "Hey, it's okay. I got a surprise for you." He slid his hand down to take
Renny's in a gentle grasp. "Fraser and Kowalski are back. You wanna see
them?"
 
 His whole face lit up and he nodded emphatically. "Oh, yes, Ray."
 
 "Hey guys, you wanna come in? Say hello?" Ray pitched his voice loud
enough to carry to the lounge.
 
 A moment later a pair of shadows across the bed heralded their arrival.
They came in, Fraser moving to sit on the edge of the bed behind Ray, and
Kowalski to sit on the other side. Renny looked from one to the other with
a hint of uncertainty now showing on his face.
 
 "Hey, Renny. How you doin' buddy?" The gentleness in Kowalski's voice
surprised Ray.
 
 "Ray…" Renny's face twisted and he pushed himself up and into the other
man's arms. Kowalski caught him and held on, his head bowed over Renny's.
 
 Ray hadn't expected this kind of reaction from either of them, but he
shifted, obedient to the pressure of Fraser's hand on his shoulder and
they left the room together.
 
 *
 
 When they reached the lounge, Ray went to stand by the window, lifting
aside the curtain just a fraction to look out into the night. After a
moment's painful uncertainty Ben went over to stand behind him. "Ray..."
 
 It was intended as more a warning of his presence than anything else. Ben
took one last step, touched the slender shoulder lightly and felt Ray
flinch. They stood without moving for a while, then Ben gently kissed the
back of Ray's long, elegant neck. When Ray didn't pull away or speak, Ben
moved closer still sliding his hands down Ray's arms until he held his
lover in a loose embrace.
 
 Words never came easily to him, not when it came to this kind of
situation. He could spin Inuit stories for hours on end, or pontificate on
facts and figures forever, but when it came to matters closest to his
heart he was always struck dumb. Eventually he sighed, knowing that Ray
understood this about him, hoping that somehow he could communicate his
love without words. His lips brushed once again across the nape of Ray's
neck, and he nuzzled the soft bristles of Ray's hair.
 
 At last Ray relaxed against him for a moment before turning in his arms.
They kissed, slow and tentative, and then Ray leaned heavily against him,
his head resting against Ben's shoulder.
 
 "I feel like I've finally come home." Ray's voice was almost inaudible
and he sounded unutterably weary.
 
 Ben knew he wasn't referring to Chicago or this apartment and his throat
tightened. "You have, love."
 
 A tremor ran through the slender figure in his arms and he realised with
a shock that Ray was crying quietly. It shook him to the core; he hadn't
seen Ray cry since Irene died. As much as Ray liked to complain about
Ben's reticence, when it came to pain, emotional pain, he was… well not
stoic perhaps, but certainly no more inclined to display that pain openly
than Ben was himself.
 
 "Benny, there's more. Something I didn't tell you." Ray avoided meeting
his eyes. "Laurier… he didn't use condoms when he raped us. We've had the
blood tests, but…"
 
 "It's all right." Ben struggled to keep the shock out of his voice. "Ray,
whatever happens, we're going to be together. All of us."
 
 "Yeah. We'll have to be careful, Benny. More than we were before." Ray
sighed listlessly. "Renny doesn't talk much about it. I don't think it's
really sunk in. He's too messed up with all the other stuff."
 
 He pulled Ray closer and held him tightly, but after a moment Ray
straightened, wiping at his eyes rather ineffectually. Ben raised his hand
to smooth away a stray teardrop and then kissed him. This time Ray's lips
parted easily and the kiss deepened, becoming a true homecoming. He rubbed
his hands slowly up and down the long back as Ray began to relax against
him.
 
 "Oh… uh…" They both tensed at the unexpected sound of Kowalski's voice.
 
 "Ray." Ben smiled at his other lover. "It's all right." He hesitated,
unwilling to move away from Ray but wanting to reassure Kowalski.
 
 "Sure. I'll just… uh, maybe I'll take a shower." Kowalski smiled
nervously.
 
 Ray fidgeted. "How's Renny?"
 
 "He's okay. Sleeping." The thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Guess I'll
take that shower now."
 
 "All right, Ray." Ben smiled once again. "Don't feel you have to wait up
for us. We'll probably talk for a while."
 
 "Sure. Whatever." Kowalski turned away.
 
 Ray was very still in his arms. "He doesn't sound too happy, Benny. Is he
gonna be okay with this?"
 
 "I believe he's a little nervous, Ray. He'll soon adjust, I'm sure." Ben
hesitated, recalling a few conversations and the way the two men had
behaved towards each other in the past. "Of course it would help if…"
 
 "…if I don't give him a hard time." Ray grinned. "I'll be good. It ain't
gonna do Renny any good either, if the two of us are fighting over you.
They seem kinda friendly." He looked inquiringly at Ben.
 
 "Turnbull's in love with Ray." Ben smiled a little. "And Ray's very fond
of him."
 
 They both grinned. Turnbull was a hopeless romantic, as Ben had
discovered, to his own embarrassment and confusion, when he'd first
arrived at the consulate. More often than not the object of his passion
was completely unaware of it; only occasionally did the big Canadian have
the chance to act on his emotions, and, if he didn't, they soon faded. On
rare occasions something more came of it. As it had with Ray. Now it
seemed Kowalski was likely to be the next to fall under Turnbull's spell.
 
 "Just like him to want both my lovers." Ray dropped into the couch and
rubbed the back of his neck. Ben, still standing, looked down at him
uncertainly. "I was joking, Benny."
 
 "I know. I was just…" he rubbed his eyebrow rather wearily. "Ray do you
still want me?"
 
 "I thought I'd made that pretty clear tonight. What's wrong?"
 
 "Nothing." Ben sat beside him at last. "I wasn't sure how you were
feeling, that's all."
 
 "You really wanna know?" Ray didn't wait for an answer. "Let me show
you."
 
 For long minutes Ben was lost in the scent and taste and feel of him, and
even when they parted, it was no more than a fraction of an inch between
their lips while they took a couple of deep breaths before kissing again.
Somewhere in that time Ben's arms went around him. It was the place where
they both belonged, breathing with one breath; their hearts beating in the
same rhythm.
 
 "Oh God…" Ray leaned in, his cheek slightly rough against Ben's. "God,
Benny…" his whole body began to shake uncontrollably.
 
 Ben tightened his arms around him. "Hush, I have you Ray. You're safe
now." He ducked his head a little and they kissed again, briefly.
 
 They shifted slightly as Ben leaned back into the couch, drawing Ray with
him. Ray leaned against his shoulder and gave up all control to his lover
as Ben's hands gently touched him, stroking his back, his cheek, his arms.
He caught hold of one square hand and twined his fingers with Ben's.
 
 "I'm okay, you know. It's just… too much, too quickly. I need time,
that's all." He shifted his head to look up into Ben's face. "God, I love
you…"
 
 This time, when they kissed, it was different. Needier, for both of them.
Hungrier. Ben pulled away first. "Ray, I'm sorry. I shouldn't…"
 
 Ray kissed him again. "It's okay. I want this too. Just go slow, all
right?"
 
 "All right." A tiny smile flickered around Ben's mouth. It was going to
be all right. Ray wanted him, needed him as much as he ever had.
Everything else might have changed between them, but not that one crucial
thing. "Let me love you, Ray."
 
 "It's what I'm waiting for, Benny." Ray grinned wickedly, but Ben saw the
uncertainty lurking behind that grin and hesitated. So in the end, it was
Ray who reached for him, pulling at Ben's shirt and undershirt until he
had enough space to slide his hands underneath to touch bare skin.
 
 Strange how the touch of one man could be so different from another's. He
would have known the difference even had he been blindfolded. And as much
as he loved Ray Kowalski, loved making love with him, his body was starved
for the touch of his other lover. Neither of them could ever replace the
other… if he'd ever had any doubts about that, he didn't any longer.
 
 It was difficult to rein in his eagerness, but for Ray's sake he needed
to do it. Ray's hands slid over his back with a slow neediness that set
Ben's nerve endings on fire, but he was very aware of how much had
happened since they'd last made love, over a year ago now. He took his
time unbuttoning Ray's shirt, gently easing it off his shoulders so he
could kiss the warm smoothness beneath. His fingers teased the soft
springy hairs that peeked over the top of Ray's undershirt and Ray laughed
breathlessly.
 
 "Oh, Benny…. God, I've missed you." Ray stirred beside him, making an
effort to remove Ben's shirt altogether.
 
 Ben paused to assist. "And I you, Ray." He helped Ray peel off his
undershirt, then dragged his own off over his head, blessing the fact that
he wasn't wearing his longjohns. "I'm so glad you've come back to me." It
sounded almost painfully lame, but Ray just smiled up at him, no doubt
remembering how poor he was at expressing his emotions.
 
 They settled back into the soft embrace of the couch, with Ray leaning
against Ben's shoulder and for a while they simply enjoyed the pleasure of
being together and the caress of skin against skin. Ray sighed and lifted
his long fingers to stroke Ben's chest. Memories of nights spent here, in
this apartment, doing much the same thing came back to Ben and he kissed
Ray's temple lightly.
 
 "Hey, Benny…" Ray hesitated, his green eyes searching Ben's face, then he
reached up to draw Ben's head down to kiss him.
 
 This time Ben was able to hold back his eagerness, and they kissed
slowly, easily. Nothing else seemed to matter now. When the time felt
right, Ben turned Ray in his arms and pressed his mouth to the base of his
throat. He felt a sigh thrum softly against his lips and smiled. Ray's
hands moved lazily over his back, his arms, his chest; Ray's body was
relaxed in complete acceptance against his. What more could he ask for?
 
 They continued the cautious advance, gradually relearning the intimate
landscapes of each other's bodies. Nothing had changed. Everything had
changed. Awash with confusion, it was easy for Ben to keep things slow,
but eventually the simple touching and kissing became less than completely
satisfying. They were both breathing faster, but Ray seemed comfortable
with their progress. Ben lowered his head over one dusky nipple and gently
placed his lips against it.
 
 The chest beneath his head rose sharply with Ray's gasp, but long fingers
immediately came up to hold his head in place, sliding sensuously through
his hair. Ben sucked at the sensitive tip, drawing it to a tiny, hard peak
and Ray moaned, then laughed huskily. Good. Ben's fingers came up to play
with the other nipple and silence descended for a while.
 
 But Ben was becoming uncomfortably aware of his own increasing arousal,
and when Ray began to stir restlessly it was easy to move a little, just
enough to feel Ray's growing erection against his thigh. Ray grinned at
him, flushed and just a little nervous-looking as Ben slipped to the floor
and knelt between his long legs.
 
 The tremor in his hands was only a minor hindrance as Ben managed to
fumble the button at the waist of Ray's pants open and draw the zipper
down. Then the button of his shorts. He peeled back the double layer of
cloth nervously, watching Ray's face all the time. Then his gaze dropped
to include the swollen darkness of Ray's cock. He stroked the length of it
with the backs of his fingers and it lifted into his touch.
 
 Another flickering glance at Ray reassured him and Ben bent over to kiss
the velvet smoothness of the tip. Ray's scent, familiar, rich and earthy,
enveloped him in sensuous memories and he paused for a moment to savour
them, then lifted Ray's cock to take it into his mouth. His lips slid down
to the wiry curls at the base in a smooth glide, dragging a sound
somewhere between a laugh and a moan from Ray's lips. They had done this a
thousand times and memories came flooding back, of lovemaking sweet and
sensuous, passionate, relaxed and companionable. All these and more, far
more.
 
 Ray's body undulated beneath him, thrusting gently into his mouth. Ben
ran his hands lightly over Ray's belly relearning all the planes and
angles of his lover's body.
 
 "God… Benny…" Ray's fingers clasped his head lovingly, guiding his
movements then drew him free and pulled him up until they were face to
face. Only this time, Ben was lying sprawled across Ray, balancing his
weight on his elbows, placed either side of Ray's body.
 
 They kissed again, while Ray unzipped his jeans and pushed his boxers
down. Ben smiled. "Like this?" He moved his hips slowly, enjoying the
friction of their cocks rubbing against each other.
 
 "Oh, yeah…" Ray's back arched and his hips thrust up.
 
 It was perfect; the sensations a delight, the feeling of closeness
exactly what they both needed without placing too much of a demand on
Ray's faith in him. Ray sought his mouth and they remained locked together
as the pleasure mounted. Their hands moved continuously, touching lightly
everywhere, never lingering too long, simply trying to cover as much
ground as possible.
 
 And then it changed. Ray's hips thrust up urgently and he wrapped his
arms and legs around Ben, holding on desperately to him. His hands slid
down Ben's body, urging him on as his breath came in short gasps. Ben was
helpless to resist Ray's need; he twisted in Ray's grasp and tightened his
grip on the couch cushions, trying to stabilise himself. He matched the
rhythm of Ray's thrusts. It felt like they were melding seamlessly into a
single organism, questing for a single goal.
 
 At the last they found it together. Ray's arms tightened painfully and a
choked cry came from one of them, though Ben wasn't sure which. Wet heat
spread between them, draining all the fire out of his body, leaving him
limp with exhaustion.
 
 Ray's breath scorched his temple. Ray's arms cradled him, one arm curled
across his hip, the hand cupping his buttock. The other was wrapped
tightly around his shoulders. Ben kissed the pulse beating in Ray's throat
and licked away a trickle of sweat. He could have lain like this all
night, except that his weight would eventually become a discomfort for
Ray. When he thought he had the energy Ben rolled away a little, pulling
Ray around with him so they lay along the couch on their sides, facing one
another.
 
 Green eyes blinked sleepily, mere centimetres away from his. Ray's full
lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Stay with me a while."
 
 Ben drew him closer. "Always."
 
 *
 
 It felt strange to lie alone in the big bed. Sure he'd slept in it
before, but never alone. Before, there'd always been Renny and Fraser
there, and Ray just couldn't get off to sleep alone. Got out of the habit
months ago, after he and Fraser became lovers. He sighed, rubbed his eyes
and looked over at the alarm clock. The digital display told him it was
after two in the morning and they were still in the lounge.
 
 He hadn't heard a sound in a long time. Long enough for him to wonder
what the Hell they were doing. And then, finally, there was a sound, just
a quiet murmur of voices, not loud enough to wake somebody who was already
asleep. A shadow flickered across the wall. The hall light had been left
on, probably for Renny's sake, but only the far corner of the room was lit
by it.
 
 Ray closed his eyes hurriedly as Fraser and Vecchio came in, but not
before he saw they were both naked. Well, he hadn't had any doubts about
one thing that they'd probably be doing… When Fraser slid into the bed, he
could even smell the sex. He concentrated on breathing slowly, like he was
asleep.
 
 They settled into the bed with Fraser beside him, Vecchio on the far
side. The rustle of bedding settling around them stopped and all Ray could
hear was the sound of breathing. Maybe now he could sleep.
 
 He thought he did for a while, but all too soon he was awake again. Then
he realised what had woken him. The quiet rustling of the sheets, the
moist, muted sound of stolen kisses. He turned his head, squinting through
half open eyes but couldn't see much past Fraser's broad shoulders. Still
there was no doubt about what was happening… almost on cue, he heard a
sigh, a muffled whimper, and the silken murmur of a hand caressing skin.
 
 This was just too weird. He'd known from the moment they'd turned back
towards Chicago that something like this was going to happen, and he'd
thought he could handle it, but he'd never expected to lie next to the two
of them while they made love. Even less had he expected to be so turned on
by it. Ray had no intention of joining in, though. What was happening next
to him was too quiet, too intense; not at all like the uninhibited
lovemaking he'd shared with Fraser and even Renny. Something told him he
couldn't be a part of it; didn't want to be a part of it.
 
 He could hear them speak, their voices pitched so low that, even from a
distance of a few inches, he couldn't make out the words. More kisses, and
then Vecchio rolled onto his back pulling Fraser on top of him. Ray
clenched his eyes shut and tried to will his rebellious cock into
submission. But after a moment he opened his eyes again. He felt like a
voyeur, but still he couldn't help himself.
 
 Fraser was kissing Vecchio slowly. Not on his mouth, but covering the
face he held between his hands; and Vecchio… Ray saw the glint of tears
streaming from under his dark lashes, sliding down the side of his face.
Saw Fraser lean over to lick them away. Vecchio gasped then, and brought
his hands up to cradle Fraser's head. Ray swallowed uncomfortably, unable
to ignore what was happening, unwilling to let them know they were being
watched.
 
 "Ray." Fraser's voice was barely audible. "Are you sure you want this?"
 
 For a second Ray thought Fraser was talking to him, then Vecchio nodded,
and he realised his mistake. Fraser reached over to the bedside table and
Ray heard the sound of the drawer being pulled out. He knew what was in
that drawer, and why Fraser had reached for it. It only took a few moments
and then Fraser was poised above Vecchio's body at that unmistakable
angle… this time Ray did look away.
 
 Another gasp came, ragged and low. "Oh God, Benny…"
 
 "It's all right… just tell me…" Fraser's voice was shaking. "Ray?"
 
 But there was only silence except for their breathing. It was almost
unbearable. When the sounds started again, Ray turned his head just enough
to see out of the corner of his eye. Fraser's head was bent over Vecchio's
chest, sucking at his nipple as though it was some kind of religious rite.
He could see the slow steady movement of Fraser's hips under the covers.
The ache in Ray's balls intensified and he had to force himself not to
reach for his rigid cock. Then he realised that Vecchio's head was turned
towards him, and Vecchio's eyes were open, watching him.
 
 Before he could react, a hand grasped his, almost painfully tightly.
"Benny."
 
 Fraser's head came up and turned unerringly towards him. "Ray." In spite
of the dimness he could still see Fraser's smile.
 
 "It's okay. I'll go sleep with Renny." Ray pushed himself up onto one
elbow, but the grip on his hand refused to release him.
 
 Another, familiar, hand joined in. "You don't have to do that."
 
 Ray gulped a lungful of air. Somehow he'd forgotten about breathing. He
looked at Vecchio and saw a kind of reluctant agreement. It didn't feel
right to join them; this was something too private for him to be a real
part of. "Well… uh, I'll just stay here then. You guys, er… you carry on,
okay?"
 
 Fraser grinned. So, amazingly, did Vecchio. "Ray…"
 
 "No, I'm fine. You just… you know…" Ray sank back down to the mattress.
"Don't mind me."
 
 Fraser leaned over to kiss him. He tasted of Vecchio. God! The jolt went
straight to Ray's groin. But Fraser was turning back to Vecchio, his hips
already moving rhythmically. Vecchio's eyes closed and his head tipped
back, baring a long throat with a prominent Adam's Apple. The hands closed
over his remained where they were.
 
 He'd have to do something. The pressure in his groin was mounting, to the
point of being painful. Voyeur or not, nobody could expect him to just lie
there and do nothing. Still feeling uncomfortable, but now desperate as
well, Ray slid his free hand down over his cock and wrapped his fingers
around it.
 
 It was obvious there weren't going to be any fireworks tonight. The
silent intensity of the two men was almost frightening. But it was also
obvious that neither of them was going to last very long. Ray pumped his
cock unmercifully; for all sorts of reasons he didn't want to be doing
this after Vecchio and Fraser had finished.
 
 Something in the atmosphere of the room must have infected him; maybe it
was just the smell of sex, heavy and fragrant, that hung around the bed…
whatever it was, Ray was soon fighting to hold back, to wait for his
companions. It seemed an eternity before he heard Fraser's controlled
breathing shatter. Vecchio moaned, body arching up against the one that
covered him, and they all gave way in the same instant.
 
 Floating in a pleasurable daze, Ray was only dimly aware of the necessary
clean up. He felt someone, probably Fraser, wipe his belly; heard the
toilet flush. Felt somebody pull the covers over his shoulders. He could
smell an unfamiliar scent and assumed that it must be Vecchio, lying
beside him. He opened his eyes reluctantly and saw Fraser on Vecchio's
other side. He guessed that was okay; certainly he was too tired to worry
about it. He closed his eyes and let himself drift…
 
 …and woke to the sound of screams. A sudden upheaval beside him only
added to the confusion. Cool air rushed into the space where a warm body
had been and Ray shoved himself upright in time to see Vecchio's bare ass
disappearing out the doorway. It finally sank in what was happening as
Fraser passed the end of the bed, heading for the hallway. Ray threw
himself after the pair of them.
 
 When he got to the guest bedroom the door was open no more than a
fraction of an inch and Fraser was standing outside. The screams had
stopped and Ray could hear Vecchio's quiet voice inside. His heart was
pounding in shock. "Anything we can do?"
 
 "No. I believe Ray would prefer to handle this. He knows what to do."
Even Fraser looked rattled and after a brief hesitation Ray leaned against
him, sharing warmth and comfort.
 
 It wasn't long before Vecchio came out, looking drawn. "Go back to bed.
I'll spend the rest of the night with Renny. I just need to get my
pyjamas."
 
 They followed him down the hallway and watched uncertainly as he pulled
on a pair of striped flannel pyjamas.
 
 Fraser looked worried. "You're sure, Ray? Perhaps one of us could… it's
been a difficult night for you."
 
 "It's been difficult for all of us." Vecchio smiled tiredly. "I'm glad
you're back."
 
 Ray watched as they kissed, and laid a hand briefly on Vecchio's
shoulder. "Take it easy."
 
 "He'll probably be okay now." Vecchio shrugged. "It just happens
sometimes."
 
 Vecchio's tired acceptance of those nightmarish screams spoke volumes for
what both he and Renny must have been through. Ray watched him as he left
the bedroom and turned to Fraser with a frown. "It sounds bad, Frase. Just
as well we came back, I guess."
 
 "Yes." The slate blue eyes met his wearily. "Ray and Turnbull may have
been exposed to HIV, Ray."
 
 "Ohmigod… Frase…" he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Laurier? He
was positive?"
 
 "We don't know yet.". Fraser rubbed his eyebrow, the way he always did
when he was troubled. "Ray's still waiting for the autopsy results, but if
Laurier was infected, they'll have to have tests for the next six months
before they're cleared. It's not going to be easy for them."
 
 It was late. He was tired and he'd had too much happen tonight to be able
to deal with this. Hard on that thought came the realisation that he had
some kind of a choice. For Renny and Vecchio, there was no choice but to
deal with it however they could. He stared at Fraser speechlessly.
 
 "Come to bed, Ray." Fraser smiled tiredly and held out a hand.
 
 That was an invitation he wasn't likely to refuse. Even if he had to
crawl to get there. They settled amongst the still warm bedding, lying
close together and Ray sighed. He didn't want to think what lay ahead for
the four of them. Not tonight.
 
 "Ray, are you going to be all right with this… um, arrangement?" Ben's
voice, coming just as he was drifting off to sleep again, startled him.
 
 Ray rubbed his face, trying to jumpstart his brain. "Yeah, I think so.
What about Vecchio?"
 
 "He'll adjust." Fraser sighed. "After what he's been through, he'll need
some leeway. Can you give him that?"
 
 He remembered what Vecchio had been like last time they'd been in
Chicago. Okay, so maybe he hadn't helped much. It still wasn't going to be
easy. "I guess I'll have to, won't I?" He turned to face Fraser, kissed
him slowly. Still tasted of Vecchio, which pretty much summed up the
situation. "It's okay. I know how important it is. For you and for Renny.
I won't screw up. I'll try not to let Vecchio screw up, either, God help
me. Can I go to sleep now?"
 
 Fraser smiled, his teeth gleaming in the darkness. "Goodnight Ray."
 
 Ray sighed in relief. Sometimes Fraser just never knew when to shut up.
"Night, Frase…" And sometimes he did.
 
 *
 
 The folder was sitting in his tray, innocent as all Hell, not seeming
like anything important. Ray had been ignoring it all morning, except for
the occasional feeling that he was waiting for a time bomb to explode.
He'd get to it. When he was ready. Later.
 
 Someone came over and sat in the chair he always thought of as Fraser's.
He looked up. It was Kowalski. "Yeah?"
 
 A big grin crossed Kowalski's face. "I'm in. Starting tomorrow."
 
 "Okay." That was pretty much what he'd expected. Fraser was already back
working at the Consulate and he knew Welsh was short handed after a spate
of retirements and resignations. "See you later, then."
 
 Kowalski scowled. "You could try looking happy about it."
 
 "Another time. I'm busy." He fiddled with his pen and tried not to look
at the tray. He had the crazy feeling that the folder knew he was scared
of it.
 
 "Ray! Good to see you again." Frannie's voice cut across Kowalski's
response. She leaned on Ray's desk smiling. "Are you coming back? Harding
will be pleased."
 
 "Don't call him that!" Ray's irritation found a convenient outlet. "He's
your boss not your boyfriend."
 
 Frannie just smiled archly. "What do you know? Harding would like that
autopsy report when you've finished with it."
 
 She wasn't… she couldn't be… Ray decided she was just yanking his chain.
"Soon, okay? I'll give it to him."
 
 "You'd better." She waited a moment to see if he was going to react, but
he wasn't in the mood. With a triumphant smile, Frannie sauntered away,
touching Kowalski lightly on the shoulder as she passed him.
 
 Kowalski was staring at him. "The autopsy? Laurier's?"
 
 "Yeah." Ray heard the defensive tone in his voice but couldn't keep it
out. "I'm getting to it." Kowalski just stared at him and after a few
seconds he reached for the folder and flipped it open.
 
 There were only two pages in there. Make that one and a half… not much to
give hope to two men's lives… or take it away. He skimmed through most of
it, found what he wanted and shut the folder. Then he just sat there
shaking.
 
 "Vecchio?" Kowalski was standing beside him suddenly, one hand resting on
his shoulder. Ray hadn't noticed him move.
 
 "It's…" his mouth was too dry, his throat too tense. He swallowed and
tried again. "It's okay, the results were negative."
 
 Kowalski dropped back into the chair with an explosive sigh. He looked up
after a moment and gave Ray a shaky smile. "We better go tell the others."
 
 Kowalski drove, which was just as well because most of the trip passed in
a daze for Ray. If they talked he didn't remember it. By the time they
reached the twenty-fourth floor, Kowalski was just about vibrating with
energy, but Ray felt exhausted. He followed numbly as Kowalski breezed
through the reception area, tossing a cheerful greeting to the young
receptionist, obviously already familiar both with her and the layout. She
buzzed them into the secure area, blithely ignoring the sign that said all
visitors must be accompanied by a staff member.
 
 Fraser's small office was between Thatcher's and reception. Renny, of
course, didn't rate an office of his own, but shared one with another
junior officer. There'd be no privacy there, so without needing to discuss
it, both men headed straight for Fraser.
 
 He greeted them both with a broad smile, which quickly faded. "What is it
Ray?"
 
 "Call Renny in will ya, Fraser?" He couldn't do this twice. Beside him,
Kowalski moved restlessly.
 
 It didn't take long for Renny to arrive. He stopped just inside the door,
his face paling as he took in the strained atmosphere. His eyes searched
Ray's face.
 
 Somehow Ray managed to drag up a smile that felt stiff and unnatural on
his face. "I got the autopsy results. He was clean. It's okay."
 
 It was interesting to see their reactions. Fraser smiled his relief, but
Renny, still standing by the door, shivered once and then just stood
there, frozen. For a moment that was all, then with a rush that was worse
than pain, Ray began to feel again. He pulled Renny further into the small
room and held him tightly. Renny was trembling, tiny tremors that were
impossible to see, could only be felt.
 
 Kowalski reached them first, since he was closest, then Fraser. They all
stood in a huddle, wordlessly sharing their relief, acknowledging for the
first time just how frightened they'd all been. Perhaps, like Ray, only
now admitting it to themselves. At last, with some reluctance, they drew
apart. None too soon, as Thatcher burst through the door, a printed form
in her hand, demanding information. She stopped mid-speech as she too
recognised the tension in the room.
 
 "What is it?" Her voice sharpened.
 
 At least they were all standing far enough apart not to look too
suspicious, but the office was far too small for four people to be at a
comfortable distance. Fraser moved toward her, his hand going out to take
the paper.
 
 "Ray dropped by with some information on the Laurier case. I'll see what
I can do with this." He smiled at her, moving closer so that she had to
back away or end up chest to chest with him. "And I was meaning to ask…"
he ushered her out of the room and they heard his voice retreating down
the hallway.
 
 "Phew." Kowalski leaned back against Fraser's desk. "That was close."
 
 "Yeah. You all right, Renny?" Ray thought he looked a bit better.
 
 He was rewarded with a small smile. "Yes, Ray. I'll… I'll be fine."
 
 "Sure you will, buddy." Kowalski pushed himself off the desk. "We should
go out and celebrate. You and Vecchio are in the clear and I got a job."
He grinned as Renny congratulated him enthusiastically.
 
 There was no doubt that Kowalski's rather irritating energy and
cheerfulness had a good effect on Renny. Ray sighed; he'd just have to
learn to live with it.
 
 *
 
 "Drugs." Welsh threw the folder down on his desk, well within reach. "A
lot of drugs. And the usual accompaniments."
 
 Ray Kowalski threw a glance in Vecchio's direction, expecting an
explosion. It hadn't been at all difficult to get back into the
Twenty-Seventh Precinct, even with Vecchio back in the job they'd each
once held. There was always a place if the Lieutenant wanted someone bad
enough, and for some reason Welsh seemed to like him. What he hadn't
expected, but probably should have, was that he'd be partnered with the
man he'd once impersonated.
 
 It was at best an uneasy partnership. Neither of them could afford,
personally or professionally, to get too beat up over it, but neither of
them was too happy about it either. They'd managed to crack a few cases
together without a lot of friction, but somehow Ray had the feeling that
this was going to strain their enforced alliance to the limit.
 
 Right now Vecchio's face wasn't giving anything away, and that in itself
was a warning sign. One which Welsh seemed either not to notice, or maybe,
not to care about. Ray held his breath as Vecchio leaned forward, as
casually as though he was reaching for the television remote, and took the
folder off the edge of Welsh's desk. He flipped through the pages,
obviously not reading much of what was in there, and laid it back down
again.
 
 "With all due respect, sir, why aren't the FBI working on this one?" The
quiet intensity of Vecchio's voice made Ray's skin crawl. This was nothing
like the man he'd heard about from Fraser, or from Vecchio's own family.
There were times when Vecchio scared the Hell out of him. The rest of the
time he was just downright annoying.
 
 Lt Welsh eyed Vecchio calmly. Ray knew he'd been cutting Vecchio a lot of
slack lately, but it looked like that was coming to an end. "They are,
detective. You two will be liaising with them and providing local
information. The agents will deal with all other aspects of the case."
 
 "Sounds kinda messy to me, Lou. What's it all about?" Welsh threw a
resigned look in his direction and Ray regretted opening his mouth. He
regretted it even more when Vecchio stood abruptly and headed for the
door.
 
 "Vecchio." Welsh's voice was mild, but inflexible.
 
 Vecchio stopped, his hand already on the doorknob. "This stinks. They
don't want me, they want Armando."
 
 "What?" Ray hated it when Vecchio talked about Armando Langoustini as
though he was a real, living person. The real Langoustini had been dead
over a year and Vecchio wasn't pretending to be Langoustini any more, but
he still talked about the Bookman as if he were a real person, somehow
separate from himself. It gave Ray the creeps. "Sir, what about Vecchio's
cover? If someone who knows Langoustini sees him…"
 
 It would blow his own cover as well as Vecchio's. And then Fraser and
Renny would be in danger too, most likely. Welsh didn't bother to deny
anything. By the look of it, he wasn't any happier about this than they
were. "I'm sorry detectives, but the case is already assigned. I don't
have a say in this and neither do you."
 
 Ray pushed himself out of the chair and picked up the folder. "Vecchio's
right. This sucks."
 
 Welsh sighed. "Just be careful."
 
 *
 
 Ben reached the southern end of the bridge at State Street and stopped,
waiting for the lights to change. But by the time they did, he was still
unaccompanied by his subordinate. They'd got into the habit of walking to
the Consulate together from the point where Ray, one or other of them,
dropped them on Lake Shore Drive. It wasn't unusual for Turnbull to fall
behind; he was fascinated by the Chicago Tribune building, with its
collection of stones from various parts of the world set into the wall,
and would often stop to look for places of interest to him. It had become
a habit for Ben to go on ahead, but Turnbull always caught up with him by
this point.
 
 Unable to ignore a twinge of worry, he turned and saw Turnbull standing
halfway across the bridge staring down into the water. The worry deepened
suddenly. Ben hurried back across the bridge. By the time he reached
Turnbull the younger man still hadn't moved. Ben reached out and, very
carefully, touched his broad shoulder.
 
 Turnbull flinched slightly and turned a startled gaze on him. "Oh! I'm
sorry, I didn't mean to hold you up."
 
 "It's all right Renfield, we still have…" he glanced at his watch. "We
still have ten minutes. Is something wrong?"
 
 But Turnbull was blushing and shaking his head. They continued their walk
across the bridge. "I was just watching the patterns in the water, Sir."
 
 Ben looked at him doubtfully. Ray Vecchio had told him too much about
Turnbull's behaviour in the days before he and Ray Kowalski had returned
to Chicago. He knew that Ray had been afraid that there might be a suicide
attempt. It was still a possibility. Turnbull was prone to odd behaviour…
odd even by his usual standards. None of them was really sure that it was
safe to leave him alone for any length of time.
 
 Turnbull caught the look and blushed even more deeply. "I'm fine Sir,
really."
 
 "We're not on duty yet, Renfield." Ben managed a self-conscious smile. It
still felt very awkward to call Turnbull by his given name, but it was
necessary, he supposed. Their relationship, inevitably, was becoming
closer now that all four of them were living in the same apartment.
 
 Turnbull's eyes widened slightly at the implied invitation. "Yes, Benton…
oh, look!" With a rather forced exclamation of pleasure, he darted over to
a shop window filled with sports memorabilia. "They've got a Leafs
jersey!"
 
 With a small sigh that he hoped Turnbull hadn't noticed, Ben went over to
inspect the item. Changing the habits of two years wasn't going to be easy
for either of them.
 
 *
 
 Ray made it to the bathroom just ahead of Vecchio, and shut the door in
his face with a triumphant grin. One of the big drawbacks to the way they
were living now was that getting a shot at the bathroom in the mornings
had become a major problem. It helped that both Fraser and Renny were
early risers and not inclined to hang around, but the same could
definitely not be said of Vecchio. Well, this time he was in there first,
and Ray decided he was going to make the most of it.
 
 The water was scalding hot, since the two Mounties seemed to prefer ice
water showers, and Ray relaxed against the tiled wall, enjoying the feel
of the water streaming down his body. After a while, though, he pushed
himself away and got busy with the shampoo. He didn't want to push Vecchio
too far; their partnership at work was shaky enough and he didn't want it
to spill over here at home. It would only hurt the others and neither of
them wanted that.
 
 He'd just finished rinsing out the lather from his hair when a warning
tickle of cold air against his back made him turn. Vecchio was there,
naked. "What the Hell are you doing?"
 
 "I need to have a shower." Vecchio's grin was hard edged and more than a
little disturbing. "Mind if I join you?"
 
 There was more than enough room. Like the bath, this shower had been
designed for use by more than one person. Ray thought fast, and moved
aside. "Sure. Shampoo?" He tossed the bottle to Vecchio.
 
 "Thanks." Vecchio's eyes dropped to the bottle as he unfastened the cap,
and Ray reached for the soap.
 
 It was kind of unsettling. Not that it was the first time he'd shared
this shower, only the first time with Vecchio. And Vecchio was… well, he
was acting kinda strange. Ray half turned away from him and tried to
concentrate on washing off and getting out of there. Then a hand brushed
his shoulder and he flinched.
 
 "Want a hand with that?" Vecchio's voice was even, giving nothing away,
but his eyes held an unnerving gleam.
 
 A pulse beat warningly in his throat as Ray turned to face him. So
Vecchio was coming on to him. It wasn't exactly unexpected; at some point
this was bound to happen. They both knew it and accepted it. Ray just
wasn't sure that now was such a great time. But he'd decided to let
Vecchio set the pace on this one, and if that was what he wanted, then
they might as well do it.
 
 Ray summoned up that confident little 'fuck you' grin that always worked
so well when he felt cornered. "Okay. Here ya go." He handed the soap over
to Vecchio and was unaccountably relieved when Vecchio grabbed the
washcloth that hung on the soap rack.
 
 A firm hand turned him away and the cloth began to move in light strokes
over his back and shoulders. Ray leaned his arms against the wall in front
of him and rested his forehead on them while Vecchio continued. It felt
pretty good, especially when the cloth reached his lower back and began a
slow massage of his butt. Ray felt his cock starting to take an interest
and closed his eyes, swallowing to ease his suddenly tight throat. The
cloth slipped between his cheeks, lingering there a while longer than was
really necessary and after a moment's hesitation he pushed back a little
against Vecchio's touch.
 
 After another light caress the cloth was removed and Vecchio's unseen
presence retreated slightly. Ray lifted his head and looked back over his
shoulder, but Vecchio was just soaping up the washcloth again, his eyes
downcast. Ray turned, leaning back against the wall, watching.
 
 Okay, so he preferred big guys, like Frase and Renny, but still, Vecchio
wasn't bad. He had to admit, he kinda liked the olive skin, not that dark,
really, except when he was next to Fraser or Renny; and the triangular
patch of hair between his nipples, now clinging wetly to his skin. Ray's
eyes followed the point downwards as it converted into a thin line that
reached to his navel, then continued to that other, smaller, patch of hair
at his groin where Vecchio's cock swayed, half erect and darkly elegant
above his balls.
 
 There was a distinct tightening in his groin, and a tingle in his thighs.
Ray's eyes lifted to meet a dark green gaze that gave nothing away.
 
 "So, you ready, Kowalski?"
 
 Ray had a feeling Vecchio wasn't talking about the soapy washcloth. He
nodded. "Yeah. Go for it."
 
 Vecchio moved closer again, but simply resumed his washing. Except that
whenever the cloth moved over Ray's nipples, it lingered a while.
Gradually the cloth dipped lower. And lower. Ray swallowed. Vecchio's face
was only inches away. Too close for comfort unless they were going to
kiss. But Vecchio made no move, and Ray couldn't bring himself to start
it. The whole situation was starting to feel a little creepy; then
Vecchio's eyes released his and Ray breathed a silent sigh of relief.
 
 The cloth was between his legs now, having skipped over his swelling
cock. Suddenly it moved up again, capturing his balls and massaging behind
them. Ray's heart began to pound. This was it…
 
 Vecchio was leaning against his side, staring down at his hand as he
stroked and teased at Ray's cock and balls. Ray stared at Vecchio's intent
face and stifled a small moan. Normally by now he'd be letting loose, but
the eeriness of Vecchio's behaviour was starting to get to him. It didn't
stop him getting hard though.
 
 "Turn around." Vecchio's voice was rough. Ray took a quick look at that
dark cock, hard and eager now, and obeyed.
 
 Vecchio's hard, wiry body pressed him against the shower wall, and
Vecchio's cock slid along the cleft of his butt, the tip probing at his
asshole just long enough to make him nervous. Then Vecchio's arm wrapped
around his waist and the hot shaft nestled comfortably in his butt crack.
 
 One of Vecchio's hands was on the wall beside his, fingers clenching
uselessly on the smooth tile. Ray felt the narrow hips move, slowly at
first, then faster, harder. It felt good, really good, but Ray's
unattended cock throbbed insistently, complaining of neglect. Just as Ray
was about to take matters, literally, into his own hands, Vecchio's hand
slid down over his belly and long fingers wrapped themselves around his
shaft.
 
 Ray relaxed a little, allowing Vecchio's thrusts to push his cock through
that tight grip. It was starting to feel really good, the strangeness
forgotten now that his body's demands were clamouring in his head. He
could feel Vecchio's head resting against his shoulder, hear the harsh
grunts as Vecchio drove against him. Just as he was getting ready to
shoot, Vecchio pulled away almost violently, releasing Ray's cock and
leaving him stranded.
 
 Shit. Ray choked back a sob of frustration and turned his head. Vecchio
was leaning against the wall beside him, eyes tightly closed, lips clamped
together. His nostrils flared with each heaving breath. Ray hadn't felt
him come, but he must have, because now his cock was hanging limply
between his legs.
 
 "Geez… Vecchio…" Ray stifled his protest as Vecchio's eyes opened and
fastened on his. He couldn't read the emotions in them, but he didn't need
to. Suddenly his unsatisfied state didn't seem quite so important any
more.
 
 Vecchio's face suddenly relaxed into a bland mask. "Sorry. You want me to
finish you off?"
 
 "Yeah. That would be nice." He closed his eyes and tried to relax as
Vecchio's hand went back to its stroking. It didn't take long for the
sensations to take over, driving out all other considerations. He thrust
sharply, just once; felt the hot contraction of his balls, the rush of
power through his cock, and gasped aloud.
 
 The hand stroking his cock didn't stop, following him down into limp
pleasure. Then Vecchio moved away, allowing him as much space as was
possible. When he opened his eyes Vecchio was rinsing off his soapy body
under the rapidly cooling stream of water. His eyes avoided Ray's and when
Ray moved away from the wall, Vecchio muttered something and slipped out
through the narrow opening of the shower door.
 
 By the time Ray had quickly soaped himself and finished, Vecchio was
wrapped in a towelling robe and reaching for the bathroom door. It opened
on a fully uniformed and smiling Fraser. They both froze.
 
 Fraser's smile broadened. "I knew you two would hit it off eventually."
 
 Ray was lost for words. Hitting it off somehow didn't seem to exactly
describe what had just happened between them. He saw Vecchio's shoulders
tense, then relax slightly.
 
 "Sure, Benny. We're getting along just fine." He slid between Fraser and
the partly opened door and disappeared down the hallway.
 
 The smile slipped a bit on Fraser's face and he cocked his head
inquiringly. "What happened, Ray?"
 
 Ray shrugged. "Damned if I know."
 
 *
 
 "Hey, Frase… you busy?"
 
 Ben looked up from his paperwork to see his lover's spiky blond head
poking around the edge of his office door and smiled. "I can take a few
minutes, Ray. Come in."
 
 Not one, but both of his lovers came into his office and Ben assessed
them with a Mountie's eye. Ray Vecchio was tense and withdrawn, and Ray
Kowalski jiggling with suppressed energy. Ben sighed. Something was wrong.
He raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
 
 The blond avoided his eyes. "Uh… we wanted to talk to you about Renny."
 
 "Oh?" Ben felt himself tense suddenly. Wasn't Turnbull… Renfield… on
guard duty right now? It was one of the few times in Ben's day when he
could feel reasonably sure that nothing was going to go wrong. "What's he
done now?"
 
 "He hasn't done anything, Benny." Ray Vecchio scowled at him. "He's not
the problem here. You are."
 
 Before Ben could react to this unexpected attack, Ray Kowalski
interrupted. "Lay off, Vecchio. That ain't gonna help." Left fair and
square in the crossfire, he eyed Ben placatingly. "It's just that you can
be kinda hard on him Fraser, and Renny doesn't need that right now."
 
 It was on the tip of his tongue to deny the accusation, but Ben
hesitated. It wasn't often that the two Americans agreed on anything, and
unheard of for the two of them to unite against him. He folded his hands
on the desktop. "Go on."
 
 "Benny, he's a damn sight smarter than you think he is. He knows how you
feel about him, and it hurts." Ray looked at him pleadingly. "Just give
him a chance."
 
 "Ray, I…" Ben stopped, unsure of his ground. For all Renfield's
awkwardness and annoying habits, he was quite well liked by most of the
Consulate staff and there had been times when Ben had depended on him and
had not been disappointed. He sighed. "Perhaps you're right. I'll try to
be more… understanding."
 
 Both men broke into relieved smiles. "It'll mean a lot to him, Benny."
 
 "Yeah, Frase. You know how much he looks up to you." Ray Kowalski came
closer and slapped him on the shoulder. "He needs all the help he can get
right now."
 
 Guiltily recalling the conversation he'd had with Ray on that very
subject, several months ago, Ben sighed again. He had tended to take
Renfield's fixation on him somewhat smugly for granted without considering
how his actions would affect the younger Mountie. "I'll try to remember
that the next time he breaks one of Inspector Thatcher's favourite vases."

 
 *
 
 Working with Vecchio was turning out to be a lot like working in the Bomb
Squad, Ray thought. Not that he ever had, but it was pretty much the way
he imagined it might be. You never knew when something was going to blow
up in your face. Even something like a simple trip to the deli for
sandwiches could turn sour without any warning.
 
 It wasn't his fault they'd stumbled across a hold up. It for sure wasn't
his fault the punk was high on something. It had been a damn dangerous
situation and Vecchio, as usual, had tried to take control, like he was
trying to prove something. Okay, so Vecchio had managed to get him to
release all the customers, leaving just him and Ray and the deli owner
still inside. It was about then that the squad cars arrived, sirens
screaming, and the punk had started firing wildly. They'd been lucky to
get out alive.
 
 Once it was all over, and the uniforms had taken the punk away… not their
precinct, not their problem, thank God… Vecchio had followed him back to
the GTO and they'd driven back to the stationhouse in an ominous silence.
Almost as soon as they got in the door, Vecchio turned on him. "What the
Hell did you think you were doing?"
 
 "Trying to help you, dammit! What's your problem, Vecchio?" Kowalski
glared at his partner and fought the urge to pop him one. "He was aiming
right at you. Was I supposed to just stand there and let you get shot?"
 
 "Help me? You damn well nearly got me killed!" Vecchio's fists clenched,
but he made no move to attack, and after a moment Ray released the breath
he'd been holding. They'd never actually come to blows yet, but that
didn't mean it would never happen. "Just keep out of my way. I can look
after myself."
 
 People were getting hurriedly out of their way as they stalked along the
hallway. He wondered why Vecchio had waited until now and decided he had
probably chosen the safest option. At least they couldn't duke it out in
full view of the whole precinct. "Well, if you'd just trusted me for one
fucking second…"
 
 The doors flew open banging against the wall and every eye in the Bullpen
was briefly on the two of them. Then there was a collective rolling of
eyes as everyone went back to their work. Ray Kowalski noted this with one
corner of his mind. It seemed like nobody paid much attention to their
fights any more. Even Frannie had given up trying to stop them.
 
 Vecchio was still yelling but Ray suddenly wasn't in the mood. He grabbed
the thin arm as it waved wildly before his nose and pulled his partner
around and back out into the hallway.
 
 "Now what?" Vecchio's green eyes blazed at him. "For God's sake,
Kowalski…"
 
 "We gotta talk, Ray." He saw, with satisfaction, that his use of
Vecchio's first name had the effect he'd wanted. "Come on."
 
 Vecchio followed him down the hallway without another word. The only
place they'd be able to talk was the interview room. He'd just have to
hope that half the precinct wasn't crammed into the observation room
watching them.
 
 "Okay. So talk." Arms folded across his chest, Vecchio watched him
warily.
 
 It brought him up short. Ray knew that he needed to get this right, but
he wasn't good at explaining things. Fraser could do it better, except
that Fraser couldn't do this at all. Only he could. Talk about performance
anxiety…
 
 "This ain't working, Vecchio." He was answered by a short laugh. "We're
trying to do too many things at once. Trying to be too many things…
partners, friends, lovers… it ain't working."
 
 Panic flared briefly in Vecchio's face before he turned away and it
reminded Ray of how close to the edge the other man still was. "So what
are you saying?"
 
 "Look…" he went over to stand behind Vecchio, and met his eyes in the
mirror. He put his hand on the thin shoulder. "I'm not giving up, okay? I
just think we need to take it slowly."
 
 Vecchio's eyes dropped. "Go on."
 
 "I was thinking…" he swallowed hard, he hadn't been thinking at all. He
was trying to make this up on the trot and it was scaring the Hell out of
him. "Maybe I should move out of the apartment."
 
 "You can't." The muscles under his hand tensed up again. "Renny needs
you."
 
 "Not as much as he needs you." Ray hesitated. "He needs you to be
together for him, and you're not together. Not even close. Maybe if it was
just the three of you… well, some of the pressure would be off you." And
off Fraser, for that matter. "Frase could come see me at my place
sometimes. I could visit you guys. It's not like we'd be totally cut off."
 
 "No." Vecchio's head shook slowly from side to side. He'd started to
tremble.
 
 Vecchio wasn't going to tell him what the problem was. That much was
obvious. Ray thought about it and wondered if he was simply not ready to
be alone with Fraser. He knew the two of them had been making love. Hell,
he'd seen them making love… but maybe… maybe Vecchio was doing it for
Fraser's sake. It was becoming increasingly obvious that there was
something wrong between the two of them. Maybe he wanted Ray there to take
the pressure of Fraser's needs off of him. He moved a little closer and
lowered his voice. "Ray, I just wanna do what's best for all of us. If
moving out isn't gonna do it, why don't you tell me what will?"
 
 Vecchio sighed and let his head drop forward tiredly. "I don't know. I'm
just… just scared. Renny's not getting any better. I thought he was at
first but he isn't. I can't help him."
 
 "You're wrong." Ray squeezed his partner's shoulder gently. "You are
helping him, just by being there. You know what he's going through. If it
wasn't for you he'd be in some psych ward by now. Or dead, maybe."
 
 A shiver ran through the slender body. "Maybe what he needs is somebody
who doesn't know what he's going through. Somebody who never knew
Laurier."
 
 "Maybe he just needs both of us." Ray thought about that and decided
Vecchio was probably right. They both were. "And Fraser. He knows he can
trust Fraser. I guess it's some kind of Mountie thing." He grinned and saw
it faintly echoed on Vecchio's drawn face. "Okay, so I don't move out. But
we should take it easy. Don't try to force things, okay? Let it just
happen between us." He backed away slightly, offering Vecchio some space.
 
 The other man turned to face him. "What if it doesn't 'happen'?"
 
 He faked a double take. "What us? Are yer kidding? A sexy Eye-talian
stallion like you and a hot stud like me not get it together?"
 
 A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Vecchio's mouth. "Don't get mushy
on me, Kowalski. Next thing ya know I'll be bawling my eyes out like my
nieces when they see Bambi's momma dying."
 
 In fact, his eyes were suspiciously bright, but Ray just grinned and
hugged him lightly and planted a no more than friendly kiss on his lips.
 
 *
 
 There was never enough white-out. Vecchio searched in his drawers for his
secret supply and heard Kowalski cursing behind him as he tore another
sheet out of the typewriter and started over. Ray grinned. It seemed like
things were slowly improving. Even Renny was more relaxed, more like his
normal self. Fraser was happy; and he and Kowalski were getting along
okay. Maybe one day everything could get back to normal. That had seemed
impossible to him only a few weeks ago. Now it seemed attainable.
 
 His cell phone rang. "Yeah, Vecchio. What is it?"
 
 "Ray?" It was Fraser, sounding worried. "I need your help. Can you come
over right away?"
 
 "Sure. What's wrong?" He was already rising, signalling to Kowalski. It
had to be Renny, nobody else could bring that longsuffering tone to
Benny's voice.
 
 A sigh gusted in his ear. "Renfield's locked himself in the bathroom."
 
 Ray laughed in sheer relief. "Again? Is that all?" He waved a casual hand
at Kowalski as he came over.
 
 "No, Ray. He's locked himself in the bathroom. He won't come out." Ray
could almost see Fraser rubbing his eyebrow in concern. "Inspector
Thatcher's… well, she's not pleased. There's a delegation due at any
moment, and…"
 
 "We'll be right over." He flipped the cell phone closed. Kowalski was
right behind him, trying to listen to the cell phone. "Something's up with
Renny. We better get over to the Consulate fast."
 
 "I'll drive."
 
 Kowalski brushed past him, and Ray caught his arm. "We'd better both take
our cars. There's no telling what's going on."
 
 As soon as he was in the police pool car, Ray started the siren and put
his foot to the floor. Kowalski was on his tail the whole way over. When
they got there, he simply abandoned the car without even locking it and
ran inside. Fraser was in the reception area and hurried them through. It
was obvious the security had been beefed up for this visit and that he
wanted them out of the way fast.
 
 Once in the secure area Fraser's face relaxed into a worried smile. "He's
through here." He led them into Thatcher's office. No wonder she was
pissed.
 
 "Renny." Ray knocked gently on the wooden door. "Renny, it's me. Come on
out of there."
 
 Nothing.
 
 He knocked again. "Renny, open up, willya? We're getting worried here."
 
 "I ca…" Ray thought he heard a muffled sob. "I can't…"
 
 A hand touched his shoulder and Ray glanced back to see Kowalski close
behind him. "Renny, it's Ray. We're all here. You can do it, buddy. Come
on and open up the door."
 
 "No! Please… leave me…" a definite sob that time, then silence.
 
 "Renny I know you can do it." Ray tried to keep the fear out of his
voice. He gestured to the others to leave and they obeyed in silence.
"It's just me here now, baby. You can do it, okay? Just unlock the door.
That's all you have to do, I won't even open it, okay? Just reach out and
unlock the door for me."
 
 There was a long pause and then, finally, a faint click. Ray let out a
shaky breath. "Can I come in, Renny?"
 
 "Ray…"
 
 He didn't wait for anything more definite. He eased the door open
carefully, not knowing what to expect, and not wanting to startle Renny
into doing anything dangerous. But the young Mountie was sitting hunched
up on the floor, half under the wash basin. His face was flushed and
streaked with tears and he was holding a crumpled sheet of paper in his
hands. The eyes that lifted to meet Ray's were full of pain.
 
 Ray squeezed into the small space beside him and put his arms around the
red serge clad shoulders. "It's okay now, baby. It's gonna be all right."
 
 Renny's face twisted and he turned into Ray's loose embrace and began to
sob. Just listening to him induced a heart-pounding, skin-crawling,
gut-churning reaction, but there was nothing Ray could do except to hold
him and whisper reassurances into his ear. After a moment he gently eased
the paper out of Renny's large bony hand and shoved it into his pocket.
 
 By the time Renny had calmed a bit, Ray's legs were starting to cramp,
and he guessed that Renny would be incapable of standing on his own. He
kissed the short hair beneath his chin. "I'm gonna need some help getting
us outta here, Renny. That okay?"
 
 Renny gulped and nodded wordlessly. Ray figured Fraser and Kowalski
wouldn't be too far away, and when he called, they were there in seconds.
He stared up into their faces, feeling faintly ridiculous, but accepted
Fraser's hand to get him to his feet. He left Renny to Kowalski's aid, but
as soon as the Mountie was on his feet, Renny was looking anxiously
around. Ray went to his other side, supporting him with an arm around his
waist and after a moment Kowalski moved away slightly.
 
 Fraser simply looked at him questioningly but Ray still had no idea what
had caused all of this. Except that it had to be something to do with the
paper. He fished it out of his pocket and handed it over. Fraser glanced
at it and his face suddenly went completely blank.
 
 "What is it?" Kowalski went to his side and turned the crumpled sheet
towards him. "Shit."
 
 Renny was starting to shake again, leaning heavily against him. Ray held
out his hand and Fraser passed it over to him with obvious reluctance. At
first the words made no sense. Then he realised he was looking at an
official request from Ottawa for the repatriation of the body of John
Laurier, Canadian citizen, currently in the care of the Chicago city
morgue. Laurier's parents would be arriving in two days to accompany their
son's body back to Canada.
 
 It made him feel sick and disoriented. God only knew how Renny was
feeling. He passed the form back to Fraser. "I'll take him home."
 
 "You want me to come too?" Kowalski looked shaken. He reached out a hand
to touch Renny's then stopped as he stiffened and shrank back against
Ray's side.
 
 That decided it. "No. We'll be okay. I'll see you both later."
 
 *
 
 It came as no real surprise to find the apartment apparently deserted,
but Ben simply went into the guest room, Kowalski on his heels, and found
the two of them in bed and fast asleep. Turnbull's face was completely
buried against Ray's bare chest, but Ray's face was unobscured. Even in
sleep he seemed exhausted, and his eyelids were reddened.
 
 They retreated and, after a whispered consultation, Kowalski went to buy
some take-out from his favourite Chinese restaurant and Ben went into the
kitchen to get the table ready, with Dief in close and hopeful attendance.
By the time Kowalski was back everything was ready.
 
 "You think we should just let 'em sleep, Frase?" Kowalski cast a doubtful
glance towards the closed bedroom door.
 
 He'd been weighing up the pros and cons as he'd worked. He'd checked on
them again when he'd gone into the master bedroom to strip off his tunic
and found they hadn't moved. All the same, neither of them were eating
very well at the moment and lately Turnbull had taken no interest in
cooking at all. It was becoming rather worrying.
 
 "I'll wake them." He brushed a kiss across Kowalski's cheek as he passed.
"I won't be long."
 
 Vecchio's eyes opened as he peeked in the door, regarding him sleepily.
Ben smiled. "We've got some Chinese, Ray. It's ready, on the table."
 
 "Yeah?" A huge yawn interrupted what he was going to say next. Then he
looked down at his still sleeping companion. "Maybe I better stay with
him. I can eat later, Benny."
 
 That wasn't at all to Ben's liking. "Ray, I think…"
 
 "Ray?" Turnbull stirred, lifting his head. "Ray, what…"
 
 He sounded better, no more than sleepy and confused. Ben advanced into
the room and Turnbull's head turned to him. "How are you feeling,
Renfield? Better?"
 
 "Oh yes… I'm… I'm fi…" Turnbull broke off with a gasp, his eyes widening,
then recovered fast. "I'm feeling much better, thank you." Behind him,
Ray's head shook slightly from side to side and his arm tightened across
Turnbull's back.
 
 "Well…" Ben decided to change his plan of attack. "Ray's just brought
some Chinese take-out home. I was thinking we could all eat in here. We'll
bring it through." He left before either of them could think of an excuse
to refuse.
 
 It only took a moment to transfer everything onto a couple of trays and
carry them into the bedroom. By that time Ray and Turnbull were wearing
cotton robes and leaning back against a mound of pillows. Dief positioned
himself strategically and Kowalski and Ben perched on the bottom half of
the bed.
 
 It was a silent meal. Kowalski was the only one among them with any
appetite, though Ben forced himself to eat at least an adequate amount.
Ray and Turnbull ate next to nothing, until Kowalski began feeding
Turnbull bits of chicken and vegetables with his chopsticks and ignoring
his blushing attempts to refuse. 
 
 Taking advantage of Turnbull's preoccupation, Ben leaned toward Ray. "You
should eat more, Ray. Set a good example for Renfield."
 
 Ray favoured him with a sardonic look but lifted a fork loaded with
noodles to his mouth and began chewing without much sign of enthusiasm. It
was better than nothing, Ben supposed, but not nearly enough. When both
men refused to eat another bite, Kowalski began to clear the dishes away,
closely watched by Dief. Ben didn't budge from his position on the bed.
 
 Two faces, both of them too thin and too pale, turned towards him when
Ben cleared his throat. "Renfield, I've told the Inspector you were taken
ill and that you won't be at work tomorrow." He swallowed to ease a sudden
tightness in his throat. "We can't allow Mr and Mrs Laurier to see you."
 
 He saw, by the widening of their eyes that neither of them had even
thought of it. The fact that Ray hadn't seen it troubled him. It wasn't
like him to be so imperceptive. But at the moment it was Turnbull who
worried him most. "You know… you should look on this as the closing of a
chapter, Renfield… an appropriate time to put the whole affair behind
you…"
 
 "Benny…" Ray's eyes flashed him a warning. "Don't…"
 
 "No, Ray. It's all right." Turnbull's voice was shaky but determined. His
lashes were darkened and spiky with unshed tears. "I'll… I'll try,
Benton." He made a brave attempt at a smile.
 
 "Good man." Ben smiled back approvingly while Ray shook his head and
muttered "Canadians" under his breath.
 
 *
 
 A tap on the window roused them both from a bored silence. "Anything
happening?"
 
 "Nah. I don't figure they're gonna turn up today." Ray glanced over at
Vecchio. He didn't think they were going to turn up at all; at least not
here. He started up the engine and shifted the stick into first gear.
 
 But Vecchio was talking across him to the Federal agent. "You guys ready
to take over? Hope you've got a good movie in there." He nodded towards
their expensive, late model car. In this neighbourhood it stood out like
the Titanic in a powerboat regatta. Only the FBI would use a car like that
for a stake out.
 
 Ray grinned. They'd spent five long hours here and it had been a total
waste of time. Whatever might have been planned to go down here, their
birds had got wind of it and flown somewhere else. The sight of that car,
if nothing else, would put paid to any chance of a successful bust today.
"Have fun. See ya later."
 
 Three blocks later Vecchio cracked a huge yawn. They'd been sitting in
this car for way too long, not talking for most of the time, and both of
them were half-asleep. "So, you wanna go back to the Stationhouse?"
 
 "Not really. You got an idea?" Going back to the Stationhouse would mean
paperwork at best, or being dragged into some low priority case that they
would inevitably have to drop when the Feds came calling for them again.
 
 "Movie?" Vecchio shrugged. "I don't care."
 
 "Are you kidding? We've been sitting around all day. No point in changing
sitting a car for a seat at the movies." Ray drove on, his mind only half
on the road, and realised he was driving in a certain direction… he
wondered whether to say something or just go there. Better not to spring
it on Vecchio, he decided, but how was he going to say this? "Hey, you
wanna go see your Ma? Frannie said you haven't been over there in a
while." Frannie had said an awful lot more than that, but he wasn't about
to push his luck by telling Vecchio exactly what Frannie had said.
 
 "I've been busy." Vecchio looked out the side window. "She's probably out
with one of her cronies right now anyway."
 
 "She says your Ma's pretty unhappy. Says she hasn't seen any of us in too
long." Uneasily aware of the silence from the other side of the car, Ray
carried on. "I like your Ma, she was good to me while you were…" too late
he realised where his ramblings were taking him.
 
 "You leave Ma out of this. And you leave Frannie alone, okay?" Vecchio's
face was furious. "They're my family and I can take care of them. Turn the
car around."
 
 "Fine." He took a left at the next corner, crossing too close in front of
oncoming traffic, but Vecchio didn't say a word. Just as well Fraser
wasn't here, or he'd have had something to say about it. But then, if
Fraser were here he'd be busily calming Vecchio down right now, and Ray
didn't have a clue how to do that.
 
 Ray saw the pool hall coming up on the right and had almost passed it
before he remembered Fraser telling him once about Vecchio's father and
how the only thing Vecchio had admired about him was his pool playing
ability. He pulled into a narrow side street just pass the building and
parked. Illegally, but it was a police car, for God's sake. If it got
ticketed, the department could pay for it. Or, even better, they could
pass it onto the FBI. Say they saw something suspicious… he grinned. "How
about a couple games of pool?"
 
 Vecchio threw him a sulky look and lifted one shoulder fractionally. "All
right. One game."
 
 Inside it seemed almost pitch black after the bright sunshine, but the
room was almost empty, which was a bonus. Ray paid for the table and a
beer for himself, cranberry juice and soda for Vecchio. Vecchio was busily
checking out the cues and tables. Finally he settled on one table that he
said he thought might be okay and picked out the two best cues he could
find. Vecchio's remarks about the quality of the place were luckily too
low pitched to carry to the owner.
 
 They played in silence for close on half an hour, taking their time over
the shots. It was better than trying to breach the distance between them.
Most of the time he and Vecchio got on pretty well, but every so often
something like this would blow up out of nowhere. He never knew when he
was going to say the wrong thing.
 
 The game was a slow one. Neither of them was playing particularly well,
but gradually Vecchio was beginning to relax. When he paused for a drink
after a good shot, Ray decided it was worth another try. He cleared his
throat nervously. "Hey, Vecchio."
 
 "Yeah?" Vecchio looked at him warily, glass in hand.
 
 "Look, I don't wanna… I mean…" he rubbed his head and tried again.
"Fraser used to tell me about your family… how much you care about them.
But… well, you've hardly seen them since you got back. Frannie and me, we
got this kinda brother/sister thing going, and she's worried about it."
 
 "Frannie should keep her nose out of it." This time Vecchio's voice was
reassuringly mild.
 
 "Yeah, well…" Ray took a sip of his beer while he thought about what to
say. "She loves you. And she loves your mother."
 
 "Are we playing or not?" Vecchio put the glass down and lined up his next
shot. It was an easy shot, but the cue ball went wide and only narrowly
missed going into the pocket. He turned away. "Your shot."
 
 Ray hesitated over his own shot, then laid the cue down without taking
it. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"
 
 "Since when did you become a shrink, Kowalski?"
 
 "Got anybody else you want to talk to?" That got him a glare from over
Vecchio's shoulder, but he seemed more resigned than angry. "You don't
wanna upset Renny, and I figure maybe there are some things you'd rather
tell me than Fraser." He shrugged. "It ain't like you really care what I
think of you."
 
 "Yeah? Ya think so?" Vecchio turned to look at him squarely.
 
 It was the closest they'd ever come to acknowledging the growing
attraction between them and Ray felt unexpectedly shy. He smiled nervously
and ducked his head.
 
 Vecchio sighed. "I just don't want her to see what's happened to me, all
right? It's better this way. I'll go round sometime when she's too busy to
see too much."
 
 "Like Thanksgiving? Maybe Christmas?" Ray shook his head. "What? She's
got radar? What's she gonna see?"
 
 "Armando." The name hung between them like a curse. Vecchio backed up a
few steps and dropped into a cheap plastic chair. His hands fiddled
uncomfortably with the cue. "She'll see right through me. She always does.
I don't want her to see that."
 
 "Oh yeah. Like she sees right through you and me and Renny and Fraser all
living in one apartment." Ray shook his head. "It'll be okay, Vecchio."
 
 Vecchio laughed softly, but when he spoke his voice was quietly bitter.
"One thing Ma learned from Pop was not to ask questions she doesn't want
the answer to. She won't ever ask about that, Kowalski. You can count on
it. But Armando…"
 
 He pushed away thoughts of what sort of louse Vecchio's old man must have
been. "She's your mother, for God's sake. She knows you had a bad time
undercover. Fraser's talked to her, so has Frannie and Lt Welsh."
 
 "What?" Vecchio looked up at him, his face showing shock and fear.
 
 "Hey, don't freak out, okay? No details, just general stuff." Ray lifted
his hands warily. "Frase told me she called him at the Consulate. He just
said you had some stuff to work out."
 
 "Oh God." Vecchio dropped his head into his hands and cursed quietly.
"When was that?"
 
 "A few weeks back." It looked like Vecchio wasn't going to go crazy. Ray
went over and put his hand on Vecchio's shoulder. "He convinced her to
wait for you to go to her. But Frannie says she's really worried about
you."
 
 "That's all I need… you and Benny and Frannie and Ma all talking about me
behind my back…"
 
 "Hey! You gonna finish that game?"
 
 Ray glared over at the owner and then around at the almost empty room.
Another pair was playing at a table down the other end of the room. They
were the only other people around. "Why? You need the table?"
 
 The other man wiped the bar with a grubby towel. "It gets busy later."
 
 "I bet it does. You got a license?" He started toward the bar, reaching
for his badge, then stopped as Vecchio grabbed his arm.
 
 "My game's off. Might as well go." Vecchio drained the last of his drink
and put the glass on the edge of the pool table. Ray followed him out into
the brightness of a late afternoon sun and they walked back to the car in
silence.
 
 "It's nearly five." Ray took a deep breath. Maybe it was worth a chance.
"We could pick up my car, swing by the Consulate, pick up Fraser and Renny
and head out to Octavia."
 
 "Reinforcements?" Vecchio shook his head and sighed. "Okay. I guess I'll
have to do it sometime."
 
 "No sense in putting it off." Ray grinned, relieved that at least one of
Vecchio's hang ups was going to be dealt with. "Besides, I guess two
Mounties and a couple cops ought to be enough to handle one Italian
momma."
 
 Vecchio laughed shakily. "Are you kidding? I thought you'd met her."
 
 *
 
 Dinner had been the familiar chaos that Ben remembered from the days
before Ray had gone undercover. He'd visited a few times with Ray
Kowalski, but those meals had been comparatively subdued. Tonight Ray had
borne the full blast of the Vecchios in high spirits and had visibly
reeled under the impact. Ben smiled reminiscently.
 
 Even Renfield had handled it better than Ray had. He and Dief had spent
most of the time before dinner playing with Maria and Tony's kids, their
friends, and a few assorted junior cousins and then he'd fallen asleep
after dinner, sitting in the big armchair with Maria's youngest crashed
out on his lap.
 
 More importantly, Ray Vecchio had seemed to be all right. Mrs Vecchio had
refrained from asking too many questions though she'd exclaimed over his
loss of weight and then rushed into the kitchen to start the preparations
for his cure. The meal had been enormous; second and third servings were
declared mandatory, and they had almost staggered out to the lounge to
recover in front of the television. As they left, each of them was
required to kiss Mrs Vecchio on the cheek and promise to return soon, and
to look after "poor Raimundo".
 
 'Poor Raimundo' had dozed all the way back to their apartment in the back
seat of the GTO along with an equally somnolent Renfield and a practically
comatose Diefenbaker. They all trailed up to the apartment and Ben, for
once, was thankful for the elevator.
 
 He headed for the bedroom to change out of his uniform. Dief would need a
walk, and so did he after that meal. Renfield went into the guestroom, no
doubt on the same mission. Even his dedication to the uniform waned
somewhat after more than twelve hours of continuous wear. Perhaps he
should invite Renfield to accompany him. It was clear that the other two
were becoming closer all the time, perhaps the contentment that comes
after a truly inspired meal would aid further development of their
relationship. It wouldn't hurt to give them some privacy.
 
 But when Ben came out of the bedroom, the guestroom door was open barely
a crack and the light was out; a sure sign that Renfield had gone to bed.
Well, that had the same result for less effort on his part. He tried not
to feel relieved. He could hear quiet voices coming from the lounge, so he
made his way cautiously to the doorway and peeked in.
 
 The two of them were standing close together, each half turned towards
the other, their heads bowed a little as though they weren't quite ready
to meet each other's eyes. They certainly seemed remarkably comfortable,
apart from that. Ben smiled in admiration of the picture they made. One
blond and fair skinned, the other darker, with a nose of elegant
proportions and brooding green eyes. One dressed in an Italian designer
suit, the other in admittedly rather worn jeans and a casual polo shirt,
but each undoubtedly attractive. Each with his own way of moving that was
fluid and sensual, so unlike himself. He remembered with a smile Ray
Kowalski's assertion that he moved like a block of wood.
 
 "…well, I appreciate it anyway. Thanks for talking me into going."
 
 "Hey, for a meal like that, I'd hog tie you and drag you over there,
Vecchio." Ray's hands were firmly shoved into his jeans pockets, but he
glanced up at the bowed head.
 
 Ben thought he saw a glimmer of a smile. "Yeah? What makes you think you
could handle it, Kowalski?"
 
 Ray grinned and said nothing. The silence drew out until both men were
beginning to look uncomfortable. "Maybe I'd get Fraser to help." Ray's
voice was soft. He looked at his companion and took a half step closer.
 
 That was definitely a smile tugging at the corners of Ray Vecchio's full
lips. His head came up too and they looked into each other's faces for the
first time since Ben had been watching. Then Ray Kowalski lifted one arm
and drew the other man into an awkward half hug. They laughed quietly.
 
 Ben would have tried to sneak past then, but Dief wuffed impatiently from
behind him and the two men turned towards the sound, moving apart. He
sighed and stuck his head around the door. "I'm just taking Dief for his
walk. Renfield's gone to bed. I'll, uh… see you later."
 
 It came out rather awkwardly, and Ben tried not to flinch. His lovers
looked at him with identical expressions of affectionate amusement.
 
 "Sure Benny. I thought I'd sleep with Renny tonight, anyway. Give you two
some time alone." Ray yawned exaggeratedly, a wicked glint in his eyes.
 
 So much for his hopes. Ben tried a last ditch effort. "That's kind of
you, Ray, but I'm sure…"
 
 "Hey, I have to put up with him all day. Now yer trying to force him on
me at night too? You trying to tell me somethin'?" There was a warning in
Ray Kowalski's eyes and Ben decided to heed it. He seemed to have very
good instincts about their relationship.
 
 "No, of course not… well, I'd better be going. I won't be long." And in
truth it would be pleasant to have a night alone with Ray. There was a
certain awkwardness about making love with one lover while the other
remained... detached. One day, soon he hoped, the barriers would come
down. Unfortunately, it seemed that it would be some time yet before it
happened.
 
 *
 
 Ray Kowalski lifted a fork loaded with Renny's best scrambled eggs
halfway to his mouth. "Ya know, I've been thinking and…"
 
 "That'll be a first."
 
 He ignored Vecchio's muttered insult. It was only what you'd expect
before he'd finished his first coffee of the day. "I was thinkin' that I'd
go see Mom and Dad this weekend. They're in Des Moines for a couple
months. God knows why." He thought about that for a moment and shrugged.
"Anyway, they're gonna head down to New Mexico for a while after that,
so…"
 
 "That's a good idea Ray. Will you be staying with them?" Renny smiled
brightly at him.
 
 "Hell, no." His response was instinctive. "Not if I want to still be
talking to them afterwards." He looked up from his plate to see two pairs
of wistful blue eyes watching him. He kept forgetting how the two
Canadians basically had no family. Beneath the table another pair of eyes
were fixed firmly on his fork. The similarities were kinda frightening.
 
 "Don't get on too well with your folks, Kowalski?" Vecchio grinned.
 
 "Ray." Fraser stared reprovingly at Vecchio. "Ray and his parents have a
very good relationship, I thought."
 
 "They're okay." He shrugged. "Dad and me get on better if we're not too
close, if you know what I mean. I'll just stay in a motel."
 
 "Uh, Ray… would it be all right if I…" Renny blushed. "I mean… I wouldn't
want to intrude, but…"
 
 "You wanna come with me?" Ray stared at him incredulously. "I'll probably
end up just hanging around with them. There's nothing to do in Des
Moines."
 
 "Oh, I'm sure I'd find something to do, Ray. I just thought it would be
nice to…" Renny looked at him helplessly.
 
 "All right." Ray pushed back his chair and carried his plate out to the
kitchen. "We'll leave after my shift ends tomorrow."
 
 Renny followed him out. "Thank you, Ray. I won't be any trouble, I
promise."
 
 "No problem." He studied the long face for signs of trouble but didn't
see any. "Is there some reason why you wanna get out of town?"
 
 "Oh! Well, I did rather have an ulterior motive, Ray." Renny moved closer
and lowered his voice. "I think Benton and Ray should have some time
alone. Don't you think they're a little… well, irritable with each other?"
 
 Ray shrugged. "Vecchio's always irritable. It don't mean anything."
 
 "No." Renny looked suddenly miserable. "He's not, Ray. Or at least he
wasn't, once."
 
 "That wasn't what I heard at the Precinct."
 
 "But he wasn't with us… I mean with Benton and me. Not all the time."
Renny smiled mournfully. "He's never unkind to me, but he's not happy. Not
like he used to be, with Benton."
 
 He didn't need to hear that. As much as he was getting to like Vecchio
and respect him, there were still times when he wondered just what was
going on in Fraser's head. But he trusted Renny's instincts with people
and there was no doubt that it would be nice to have a happy Vecchio
instead of a whining Vecchio.
 
 "Well, whatever." He grinned and hugged Renny. "It'll be fun. Just don't
you tell Mom and Dad about us, okay? I don't think they're ready to hear
about the four of us."
 
 *
 
 "Go on, run! Whaddaya waiting for?" Kowalski Snr thumped the arm of his
chair in disgust. "He coulda stole third base, easy."
 
 Ray just grinned. His dad always took a hands-on approach to watching
baseball, even if it was on the television and the game had in reality
finished over an hour ago. His mother, sensibly, had gone outside when the
game started.
 
 Beside him, Renny stirred restlessly. "Well, actually sir, a strict
interpretation of the rules would…"
 
 Ray's father turned a grouchy stare on him. "Doesn't he know anything
about baseball?"
 
 "Oh, yes, I do Sir." Renny leaned forward eagerly. "In fact, I played
junior league…"
 
 Ray put his hand lightly on Renny's arm. "He means… uh…"
 
 "I mean shuddup, is what I mean."
 
 With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Ray felt Renny's arm tense beneath
his hand and his eyes widen before they dropped to stare at the floor.
"Dad..."
 
 But the next batter was ready at the plate and his father just waved a
hand to indicate he wanted silence. The batter struck out, much to
Kowalski Snr's disgust and the commercial break came on.
 
 "Uh, Ray…" Renny's smile was forced. "I think I'll just go for a little
walk."
 
 "I'll come with you." He wasn't too keen on letting Renny wander off
alone. It wasn't as if he knew this area at all.
 
 Renny was already on his feet. "No, I'm fine. You watch the game." He
exited hurriedly as Kowalski Snr made a rude noise at some ad for motor
oil.
 
 "Renny." Belatedly, Ray shoved himself to his feet and prepared to
follow.
 
 "Let him go. What's the matter with the boy, anyway? Can't he take a
little ribbing?" Kowalski Snr reached for another beer. "What do you want
to be hanging around with such a pantywaist for?"
 
 "He's not a pantywaist, all right?" Torn between defending Renny and
worrying about him, Ray hesitated in the doorway of the mobile home. "He's
had some bad stuff happen lately, that's all."
 
 "Are you talking about your friend, Ray? He seemed a bit upset." Mrs
Kowalski craned her neck round the doorway and gave her husband a resigned
glance. "You haven't been rude to our guest have you dear?"
 
 "I better go after him." Ray cut across his father's protests. "Did you
see which way he went?"
 
 His mother smiled. "I told him there was a park just half a mile down the
road. I think he's gone there."
 
 "Thanks, Mom." Ray kissed her cheek as he left.
 
 It didn't take long to reach the park, but Renny must have walked faster.
He was already involved in a game of touch football with a gaggle of young
kids of various ages watched over by a couple of girls in their mid teens.
As Ray watched, he allowed one small girl to tackle him to the ground,
whereupon the whole group, including, Ray presumed, Renny's own team,
piled on top of him.
 
 Ray grinned and relaxed. Renny loved kids; he'd even liked those brats
belonging to that bounty hunter woman who'd made a play for Fraser. He'd
be okay.
 
 "Ray. Come join us." Renny got unsteadily to his feet with three of the
kids still hanging off his shoulders.
 
 He just laughed and shook his head and wandered over to the girls.
 
 "Hey mister, is he really a Mountie?" The prettier one smiled up at him
beguilingly.
 
 Ray groaned inwardly, having encountered that kind of look before. "Yeah.
He sure is. And I'm a cop." He flopped down on the grass beside them.
 
 "Really?" The other girl looked pleased. "I told you he was. Chrissie
didn't believe him. She thought he was some child molester or something."
 
 "I did not!"
 
 "Did too!"
 
 It was the kind of exchange could go on forever. Ray interrupted during a
strategic pause. "So, these kids all yours? Your brothers and sisters, I
mean."
 
 Chrissie rolled her eyes. "And all their friends. It's Randy's birthday
today and Lou's Mom got sick of the noise and told us to bring 'em all to
the park."
 
 Lou grimaced. "Yeah, 'cause her boyfriend came over." Both girls pulled a
face.
 
 "Well, I'm Ray, and he's Renny." Ray gave them a friendly grin. "Nice to
meet ya."
 
 "He told us." Chrissie cocked her head. "What kind of name is that,
anyway?"
 
 "He's Canadian." Ray grinned at their expressions.
 
 Both girls shrugged. "Oh." 
 
 Ray settled back to watch Renny and the kids, and to fend off the girl's
more flirtatious remarks. Eventually Renny declared the opposing team to
be the winners, with no apparent justification, and came over to join
them.
 
 "Hey buddy, having a good time?" Ray glanced at his watch and figured
that the game would be over by now. "We'd better be getting back."
 
 "Oh yes." Renny smiled brilliantly, his earlier distress completely
forgotten. "Your mother promised to show me how to cook Cielerina. And
genuine Pierogy. She got the recipe from your great grandmother."
 
 "Sounds great. Well, let's get at 'er." Ray dragged himself to his feet.
"See you later girls."
 
 Renny scrambled up, much to the dismay of his playmates. It was only
Chrissie and Lou's insistence that it was time for them all to go home,
and Renny's farewell to each child by name, that prevented a small riot.
 
 As they walked away, his fingers brushed against Renny's hand then
grasped it gently. "Look, don't let Dad get to you, okay? It's just the
way he is, he's not too good with words sometimes."
 
 Renny's pace faltered a little. "All right, Ray. I'm sorry. I didn't
mean…"
 
 "I know you didn't, buddy." He squeezed the large hand. "It's just… well,
Dad doesn't either. Not really. Just try to remember that, okay?"
 
 *
 
 A quiet sigh told Ben that Ray was waking at last. He rolled onto his
side to watch, his eyes skimming over the bare skin, warmed to a golden
honey colour by the late afternoon sun. Green eyes stared back at him,
blinking drowsily. Ben leaned over for a gentle kiss.
 
 "Damn." Ray's voice was husky. He yawned and stretched against the
sheets. "I'm sorry, Benny. I didn't mean to fall asleep."
 
 He kissed Ray again. "I daresay you needed it… even if it doesn't say a
lot for my technique."
 
 "There's nothing wrong with your technique, believe me." Fully awake, Ray
stretched out his arms, wrapping them around Ben's body. "Now where were
we?"
 
 "How about we recap?" Ben's mouth closed over Ray's, warmly inviting, and
his hands began their interrupted examination of Ray's slender, elegant
body.
 
 It was a wonderful luxury for them to be alone together for a whole
weekend. Ben didn't regret for a moment the decision he and Ray Kowalski
had made to return to Chicago, and to live here with Ray and Turnbull, but
there was no denying that moments of privacy like this were rare for all
of them. A whole two days of it had seemed an impossible dream.
 
 And Ben was beginning to recognise that Ray was not as fully recovered
from his ordeal as he tried to pretend. He could hide that fact almost
anywhere except here, on this bed, with Ben. Like now, when every response
he made to Ben's caresses seemed just a little too… deliberate. Ben
debated for a moment and then came to a decision. Without giving Ray any
warning he rolled on top of his lover, slid a knee between his thighs, and
made it very clear what he intended to do next.
 
 There it was. That fractional hesitation, a hint of tension in the
slender body, quickly repressed, and then Ray was arching up against him,
almost plunging himself onto Ben's cock. Carefully, Ben withdrew and moved
away a little, noting as he did the tiny flicker of relief in Ray's face.
 
 "Something wrong, Benny?" Ray couldn't hide the tremor in his voice.
 
 Ben kissed him gently. "Why don't you tell me?"
 
 For a moment Ray's eyes widened, then his eyelids dropped, casting a veil
over his thoughts. It occurred to Ben that Ray had become extremely good
at hiding his emotions while he'd been undercover. It was understandable
of course, but Ben mourned the changes in his once vocal and mercurial
lover.
 
 "You've changed, Ray..."
 
 He was interrupted by an ironic laugh. "Yeah, well, being undercover will
do that to ya, Benny."
 
 "Was it being undercover, Ray? Or was it being raped that makes you
afraid of me?" He waited as Ray's lips tightened and he sat up abruptly.
 
 "Afraid of you, Benny?" Ray smiled suddenly. "I'm not afraid of you. I
could never be afraid of you."
 
 The tenderness in his voice was utterly convincing. Ben sighed. "Then
what is it? There's something wrong, Ray. You can't go on hiding it. You
need to talk about it."
 
 Ray scowled. "Oh that's great Benny. I need to talk? What about you?"
 
 "Me? There's nothing wrong with…" Ben's voice trailed off before Ray
could interrupt him again.
 
 "Come on, Benny. You think I haven't noticed the way you've been
behaving? You never used to fuss like you do now. Wanting to know where I
am all the time. You think Kowalski hasn't noticed? Or Renny? Why do ya
think they went away together this weekend? It sure wasn't so he could
introduce Renny to his parents."
 
 "I don't suppose it was." Ben hesitated. It was obvious they'd been left
here alone for a reason. He'd assumed it was because the two of them were
as concerned about Ray as he was. "Do you really think…"
 
 "What's the one thing we haven't talked about, Benny? We've talked about
Laurier. We've talked about why I went to Florida, about being undercover
in Las Vegas. What's missing from this picture, huh?" Ray watched him,
leaning forward with his long arms encircling his raised knees. "Say it,
Benny."
 
 "You left me." Ben clamped his lips closed again. He hadn't intended the
words to sound so… so accusatory. He thumbed his left eyebrow absently,
seeing the pain blossom in Ray's face. He said it again, quietly. "You
left me."
 
 "Yeah. I did." Ray's hand touched his arm lightly.
 
 Ben waited, expecting excuses, explanations, but Ray was silent. "It
wasn't even that. I could have dealt with that… have dealt with it. But
why did you do it that way? Without saying a word… without asking me." His
voice had begun to shake. "Why, Ray? If you'd died…" he dragged in a
shaking breath, "if you'd died we would never have said goodbye."
 
 The hand on his arm tightened a little. "Is that important, Benny?"
 
 The words stuck in Ben's throat. He swallowed and wiped a hand across his
wet lashes. "All of them died that way… my mother, my father… even my
grandparents… they died while I was on patrol, within a few days of each
other. I didn't find out until a week later when I got back. I never had a
chance to say goodbye to any of them."
 
 Suddenly Ray was at his side, arms reaching for him, and he leaned
against that bony shoulder and shook with the pain of years of denial. He
was only dimly aware of Ray's voice, quiet and comforting, and of Ray's
fingers stroking the back of his neck.
 
 Brief as it was, the emotional release left him exhausted. He stayed,
unmoving, in Ray's arms as seconds passed into minutes. A lot of minutes,
before Ray sighed and finally started to talk.
 
 "I shoulda told you, Benny. I know I shoulda… I just couldn't." Ray
pulled him down so they were lying side by side in the sunlight. "They
told me I wasn't allowed to tell anybody, but I coulda found a way. It was
just… you know, one minute I'm at my desk and the next I'm in Welsh's
office and I'm looking at this picture of me. Only it wasn't me, just this
guy who looks so much like me that even Ma woulda been fooled."
 
 Ben lifted his head to look into Ray's face. Even now, after so long, he
was clearly disturbed by the memories. "It must have been very…
disconcerting for you, Ray. I can understand that it would be."
 
 "Benny, you've got no idea…" Ray laughed shortly. It wasn't a pleasant
sound. "Anyway, I'm looking at this guy and the Feds are telling me about
him. Bad stuff, Benny. Real bad stuff. And somehow it's like it was me
who'd done all that stuff. That's how I felt."
 
 "But Ray…"
 
 "I know, I know… it doesn't make any sense, but that's how I felt, okay?"
Ray's arms tightened a little, perhaps to make up for the sharpness in his
voice. "One of those guys, I think he was a Catholic, 'cause he must've
picked up on it. Next thing I know he's playing me for all it's worth. The
biggest damn guilt trip since the time I confessed to Father Tomasso that
I'd started masturbating."
 
 "Ray, surely…" Ben pushed himself up on one elbow and stared down at Ray,
"…surely you didn't agree to go undercover because of that?"
 
 "Because of Catholic guilt?" Ray shrugged. "I dunno. It wasn't like I
figured it out at the time, Benny. That came later. At the time I felt…
weird… like I was responsible. Or at least like I had to do something
about it." He smiled weakly. "Think about it Benny. There was this guy
with my face, and he'd done all this stuff and it was like only I could do
something to put it right again. That's what they're telling me… and I
felt… like I was drugged, or something. Disoriented. None of it felt real.
Not for a long time. Believe me, if I'd been thinking straight I never
would've taken the job. I ain't no hero like you are."
 
 "I wish you wouldn't…" Ben bit his lip, regretting the sharpness of his
words. "I'm sorry. But I'm not a hero, Ray."
 
 "Yeah, sure." Ray leaned up to kiss him. "You would have gone, if you'd
been in my place. You know you would."
 
 He had to admit the truth of that. "It would have been my duty, I
suppose."
 
 "But you would have said goodbye." Ray stroked his cheek. "I'm sorry,
love. If I'd known it was that important to you, maybe I could've made
myself do it. I felt so weird. I can't even try to explain… I didn't want
to talk to you feeling that way. I didn't even tell Renny goodbye; just
wrote him a note asking him to look after the apartment for me."
 
 He didn't understand, but it was obvious that, for Ray, what he described
was still all too real, and difficult for him to deal with even now. Ben
lowered himself into Ray's arms again with a sigh. And then he realised
that Ray had very effectively diverted the conversation away from the
original topic of discussion. He sat up again. "So what is it that you're
afraid of, Ray? You are afraid of something."
 
 "Benny…"
 
 He could hear exasperation, amusement in Ray's voice. And fear, he
thought. "I need to know, Ray. If you're not afraid of me, or of sex…" he
let the question hang unspoken.
 
 "Oh, I'm scared of sex all right…" Ray shivered suddenly. "Not of you,
though. It's Armando." 
 
 It always disturbed Ben to hear Ray refer to his alter ego in this way,
as though he was a real person. Clearly, to Ray, he was. "Armando can't
hurt you Ray. He's gone, done with."
 
 "Is he?" Ray's voice was sceptical. "I wouldn't be so sure if I was you,
Benny. Anyway, I didn't mean he'd hurt me. I'm scared he'll hurt you."
 
 "Ray, that makes no sense." His objection was instinctive. "How could…"
 
 "Benny, you don't know what he was like. Him and Laurier, they were two
of a kind." Ray swallowed audibly. "A guy like you… decent, honest,
caring… Armando would… he'd see that as weakness. He'd rip you apart just
for the Hell of it. He'd tear out your heart and eat it for breakfast. If
he wasn't hurting someone he wasn't having fun."
 
 "But you're not Armando, you're Ray Vecchio. You're…"
 
 "I'm Armando too. A part of me is. Maybe always will be, now, Benny." Ray
took Ben's face between his hands. "And when we make love, he's there.
Waiting." Pain darkened the green eyes and his voice dropped to a whisper.
"If I lost control… it would be so easy to lose control, Benny."
 
 "You would never hurt me, Ray. Not like that." Ben looked at Ray's
unmoved face and realised that what he'd said had no meaning to his lover.
"You'd never allow Armando to hurt me either. I know that as surely as I
know that the sun will rise in the west tomorrow."
 
 A faint smile creased the corners of Ray's mouth. "Don't you mean east,
Benny?"
 
 "My mistake." He smiled with pleasure at the lightening of Ray's
expression. "I mean it, Ray. In control or not, you would never harm me."
 
 A tiny shrug and the fading of Ray's smile were all the response he got.
It was painful to see the changes in his lover. Worse to know he could do
little about it. Nothing he said seemed to help. Ray loved him; he ought
to be able to do something, but Ray eluded him at every turn. Sometimes it
felt like he was living with a stranger.
 
 Ben leaned over and kissed Ray gently. If talking couldn't help, perhaps
action would be more effective. He felt desperate with the need to heal
their relationship and he'd begun to realise that Ray would never be able
to cope with the others if the two of them couldn't work this out
together.
 
 Ray gradually relaxed against him when Ben showed no sign of wanting to
do more than kiss. If he took things slowly… and, of course, he was always
happy to kiss Ray. He began a slow courtship, brushing his tongue over
already parted lips, ignoring their invitation. He kissed the corner of
that mobile, generous smile and sucked briefly on the full lower lip. Ray
sighed quietly, moving restlessly against him as if he already needed
more.
 
 But it was a long time before Ben offered any more. Even when he began to
explore the warm depths of Ray's mouth, he kept it light, almost teasing.
A quiet moan rumbled through Ray's chest and Ben laid his hand there to
feel the vibration of it in his own flesh.
 
 "Benny…" Ray groaned out his name, breathless and needy, and Ben smiled.
 
 A quick glance downwards revealed Ray's swollen cock moving restlessly on
his flat belly. He brushed his fingertips against Ray's cheek. "It's all
right, Ray. Trust me."
 
 Ray smiled up at him, his eyes heavy-lidded and drowsy but with a gleam
of arousal in their depths. "Sure Benny."
 
 "Good." He bent his head over Ray's throat, licking and kissing the
tender skin. He could feel the throb of Ray's heartbeat echoing beneath
the skin, could taste the salty tang of his sweat and the slightly
metallic residue of his aftershave. He held his body carefully poised
above Ray's, touching him only with his lips.
 
 Years of self-denial, before he met Ray, had taught him self-control.
Right now he needed that more than he ever had in his life. He ached to
press himself against Ray's body, to enter it and take comfort from it.
Ray would never dream of denying him, that much he'd learned, but it would
change nothing. And more than he needed to make love to Ray, Ben needed to
heal the fear that was keeping them apart in every way that mattered.
 
 With infinite care, Ben made his way down the side of Ray's throat, over
his shoulder, teasing at the fine, sensitive skin. Even the occasional nip
was so light, so delicate a touch that he knew it would leave no mark
later. Ray's hands came up to cup his head, trying to urge him onwards,
but Ben refused to be hurried. It seemed to take forever to reach the dark
crinkled aureole with its tight peak, but finally Ben took it into his
mouth, flickering his tongue over the tip.
 
 "Oh God… Benny…" Ray reached for him, hands stroking his side, moving
rapidly downwards. He caught them in a gentle grasp.
 
 "Let me do this Ray. Please." His voice was an urgent whisper. He waited
until Ray stilled compliantly, then held his wrists down against the
mattress, careful to allow Ray the option to break free. But Ray accepted
his move with no hint of concern.
 
 Ben teased at the sensitive tip of the nipple, alternately sucking and
flicking it with his tongue until Ray was arching his back, lifting
against his lips. Ray's breath was coming fast and unsteady now, but that
was what he wanted. He shifted his attentions to the other nipple and
began all over again. The wiry muscles under his hands tightened as Ray's
fingers clenched into fists but still Ray made no move to free himself.
 
 It was frightening to have Ray place so much trust in him. Ben felt his
heart begin to pound and tremors start in his arms. He released Ray's
wrists and began to stroke the long slender body with light, tantalising
touches. Ray responded rather like a large cat, instinctively demanding
more as a groan rumbled through his chest.
 
 "Benny…" Ray's voice was gruff with the intensity of his need. "God…
Benny…"
 
 "Shh, Ray. Trust me." Ben kept his voice to a soothing murmur. He thrust
away all his doubts about what he was doing. For Ray's sake and his own,
it was imperative that something be done.
 
 Slowly, Ben caressed and kissed his way over every intimately familiar
curve and plane of the body he loved so much. Even though he'd released
Ray, the long fingers remained clenched in the bed covers, obedient to his
demands.
 
 The scent of Ray's arousal beat at Ben's senses, threatening to overwhelm
his own control and he wondered briefly at Ray's ability to hold back when
everything about him cried out his need for release. The degree of tension
in the wiry body was alarming, but Ben had come too far to stop now. His
tongue rasped softly along the crease of Ray's groin as Ben tickled the
inside of his thigh, tugged gently at his balls. 
 
 Ray shifted restlessly against each point of contact between them as his
iron control began to slip. Ben folded first one leg then the other back
over Ray's body. A quick glance up at his lover's face showed the first
signs of fear. Ray wet his lips nervously, his eyes pleading. Not without
internal misgivings, Ben lowered his head to suck lightly on the tightly
drawn up balls.
 
 "Oh God!" Ray's body jerked uncontrollably. He dragged in a strangled
breath. "Benny, please."
 
 He almost gave in then, but the suspicion that he had already taken this
too far to give up gave Ben the determination he needed to continue.
"Soon, Ray. Please…" he almost choked on the word. "Please trust me,
love." How many times had he said that now, knowing that he fully intended
to betray that trust? He only hoped that Ray would be able to forgive him.
 
 His tongue trailed a lazy path from the base of Ray's balls down to his
anus and back again. It was becoming difficult for him to hold back now,
and Ray was twitching with the effort of restraining himself. He probed
the puckered ring of flesh, feeling it loosen reflexively at his touch. An
almost despairing cry burst from Ray, followed by a weak keening sound
that sent chills through him.
 
 Whether it was enough or not, Ben knew he couldn't continue to torment
Ray like this. He sat up, reaching for the condoms on the bedside table.
Ray's eyes, showing real fear now, followed his every move. They closed as
Ben eased the tip of his cock into the now relaxed anus and pressed home.
A long, breathless moment later Ben lowered himself across Ray's body and
took his face between trembling hands.
 
 Moisture spiked the long dark lashes that remained firmly closed against
him, and he bent his head to kiss it away. Ray's lips were clamped shut as
though he could somehow contain the pressure building inside him. But
there was nowhere to go but forwards, now, and Ben fully intended to
ensure that they went on together.
 
 He began to thrust with long slow strokes, quickly building to a driving
rhythm that rocked both their bodies, forcing quiet little grunts out of
him. Ray didn't make a sound. Each brush of his cock against Ray's
prostate was reflected on the shuttered face below him, but that was the
only sign that Ray was aware of anything at all. Ben knew, or thought he
did, that compared to some of Ray's experiences with Laurier, this was
rather tame, but he couldn't bring himself to use Ray the way Laurier had,
no matter how good his intentions were. He would just have to hope that
this would be enough.
 
 It began to seem as thought Ray's unyielding control could withstand even
this, until a quiet gasp escaped Ray's lips. His eyes opened reluctantly,
and his face showed the thin edge of panic. From there his control rapidly
disintegrated. His fists unclenched long enough for him to reach up and
grab two handfuls of Ben's hair, forcing his head down onto Ray's
shoulder. The wiry body jerked helplessly, bucking almost hard enough to
send Ben flying. Only Ray's long legs wrapped around his hips held Ben in
place. A long wailing cry shattered the silent intensity of the room.
 
 Ben felt the wet heat of Ray's climax scalding his skin and the fierce
contraction of his rectal muscles, sending his own senses reeling into
overload. He held on desperately to his consciousness through a soul
shattering orgasm, knowing that he had to be ready for whatever Ray would
need when this was over. He didn't quite manage it. There were a few
seconds of disintegration and then he roused to the sound of quiet,
desolate sobs.
 
 Hurriedly, Ben withdrew from Ray, and dealt with the spent condom, then
took his unresisting lover into his arms. Ray made no attempt to escape
and for even that small measure of trust, Ben was grateful. He rocked the
slender body gently, stroking his hair and brushing kisses against Ray's
temple. Eventually the sobs died away and they lay in silence.
 
 Ben was sure that Ray was still awake, but he didn't speak. In
retrospect, what he had done was terrifying. He'd been absolutely sure
that Ray was mistaken about the danger, but after seeing Ray's reactions,
he was no longer so confident. It seemed that Ray was all right, albeit
badly shaken, but who knew what emotional damage had been done to an
already fragile mind? What he had just done had not been so different from
the rape Laurier had inflicted on Ray.
 
 When he could bear the silence no longer, Ben gently touched Ray's arm.
"Ray? Ray, please… can you talk to me?"
 
 A quiet sigh was his only answer at first, then Ray stirred sluggishly in
his arms. "Benny…"
 
 "I'm here, love." Ben's arm tightened across Ray's back for a moment.
"I'm sorry… I wanted to show you that it would be all right. I shouldn't
have forced you to… to…" he broke off, biting his lip and fighting back
tears of his own. "Are you… can you forgive me?"
 
 Ray moaned softly, his body tensing, then pushed himself up to look at
Ben. His eyes, reddened and watery, searched Ben's face. "You were right,
Benny." He managed a weak smile. It faded rapidly and he sighed. "I can't…
I'm too tired…" he collapsed back onto Ben's chest and nuzzled his
shoulder wearily. "Later, huh? We'll talk later. Just hold me."
 
 There was nothing in the world he'd rather do right now than hold his
lover. Ben drew Ray closer still and closed his eyes with a sigh.
 
 *
 
 Something woke him, he wasn't sure what. In the next bed Renny was
sleeping quietly, so it couldn't have been him. Ray pushed himself up onto
one elbow and studied the sleeping face. The evening had gone better than
he'd expected, but Renny had still been awkward and inclined to retreat
whenever Ray's father had got a bit gruff. It wouldn't have surprised Ray
if Renny had had nightmares, as he often did after a setback.
 
 Renny's eyes opened. They stared at each other for a moment, then Ray
smiled. "Hey, buddy. You want to come on over?"
 
 A matching smile broke out on Renny's face and he sat up. Ray shifted
over to make room for him. The motel had double beds so there was plenty
of space. They settled down together with Renny's head on his shoulder.
 
 "You okay?" Ray inhaled the fresh clean scent of soap and shampoo. "You
know, we could leave early tomorrow if you want. I could say I got called
back, or something."
 
 "No, I'm all right, thank you, Ray." Renny's fingers stroked his ribs
absently. "I'm just not used to your father's ways."
 
 Ray laughed. "I think Mom told him off while we were at the park. You
like her, don't you?"
 
 "Oh yes, Ray. She reminds me…" Renny's breath caught suddenly and his
fingers stilled for a moment. "I like her a lot."
 
 Warning bells went off in his head, but Ray waited to see if Renny was
going to continue. When he didn't, Ray ventured a cautious observation.
"You don't talk much about your folks." In fact, he didn't remember Renny
ever mentioning his parents.
 
 "I haven't seen them in years, Ray." A quiet sigh followed the words.
"They didn't take very well to having a gay son. I suppose being adopted
made it easier for them to… to close me out of their lives."
 
 Ray suppressed the urge to curse. He wasn't at all sure how his parents
would react to that kind of news either and wasn't eager to find out, but
that anyone could disown a guy like Renny just seemed so incredibly cruel
to him. "It's their loss, buddy. I reckon you'd make a better son than
most. Better than me anyway."
 
 "Oh Ray, that's just not true. Your parents are very proud of you." Renny
hugged him awkwardly. "And they have every right to be."
 
 "Yeah, well let's not get into that mutual admiration thing, okay?" Ray
grinned in the semi dark. "I'll get a swelled head."
 
 "All right, Ray." Renny lifted his head to stare into Ray's face. "Are
you all right now?"
 
 A tiny laugh escaped him. Trust Renny to worry about his feelings.
"Sure." He stroked the pale glimmer of cheek. "You okay too?"
 
 Renny nodded and smiled happily. Then he lowered his head so they could
kiss. Ray loved Renny's kisses and Renny loved to kiss and to touch. It
was just the way he was made, that was all. After several long minutes,
Ray repeated that fact to himself over and over in his head. It didn't
stop his cock from swelling expectantly, but it did stop him from doing
anything stupid, like trying to take it further.
 
 Amazingly, it was Renny who did that, letting his fingers drift down
Ray's side to his hip and then his thigh. He'd never done that since
they'd all come back to Chicago and even though he'd come a long way in
his recovery, Ray wasn't ready, yet, to take any chances with him.
 
 So he lay still and waited, and eventually it happened. An electric brush
of hesitant fingertips against his cock. A soft gasp from Renny. A brief
withdrawal. He could almost feel Renny's hand hovering above his cock,
then it was back. Ray bit his lip to stifle a groan.
 
 "Is this all right, Ray?" Renny was watching him earnestly.
 
 Ray lifted his head to steal another kiss. "Oh yeah. This is very all
right, buddy."
 
 Reassured, Renny lowered his head over Ray's chest and began to suck
delicately at his nipple. His fingers traced the lengthening shaft,
stroking gently. Ray shivered and ran his hand over the short sandy hair,
wondering if Renny expected, or even wanted him to reciprocate. This
wasn't like his normal lovemaking, more like the playing that had been all
he'd wanted ever since the rape. Except that now he'd taken it to a whole
new level. Even so, Ray was pretty sure that sex wasn't really on Renny's
mind.
 
 The slow, gentle fondling continued, moving from his cock to his balls
and back again, and sending a delicious ache through Ray's body. It would
have to end soon though, as his cock began to stiffen and become erect. He
laid a hand over Renny's and lifted it gently away.
 
 "I think we oughta stop now, buddy." Hearing the hoarseness in his voice,
Ray swallowed to ease his throat's constriction. "We don't wanna get in
too deep."
 
 "But Ray, don't you want to…" Renny's face seemed to crumple in
confusion. "I thought…"
 
 "Hey…" he reached up to touch Renny's cheek. "I was just thinking of you,
buddy. If you're okay with it, then it's fine with me." He just hoped
that, if Renny started to freak out, he'd retain enough self-control to
deal with it.
 
 "Oh!" Renny's face cleared almost magically. "You take such good care of
me Ray. I'm sorry to be such a trouble…"
 
 Ray laid his fingers across Renny's mouth. "Don't you say another word,
okay?"
 
 "All right." A sunny smile revealed a gleam of teeth in the dimness.
Renny settled back into his arms for a long kiss.
 
 Now that he'd given his body the go ahead, so to speak, Ray's arousal
seemed to increase exponentially with each touch. In seconds his cock had
lifted eagerly into Renny's waiting fingers. Unconsciously, he began to
rock his hips in counterpoint to the stroking of his cock. Renny's touch
was still unnaturally gentle, but it didn't matter. All the sensation in
his body seemed to pool in his groin for a moment and then flow outward
again in a glorious rush. As their lips parted Ray gave a soft, satisfied
groan.
 
 They lay in silence for a while as the hammering in Ray's chest slowed to
something near normal. Renny was lying in his arms again, his breathing as
quiet as if they'd gone for a stroll in the park. And something moved
against his thigh. He hugged Renny tightly. "You want me to take care of
that, buddy?"
 
 "Oh!" Renny sounded surprised. "Well… I don't know…"
 
 Ray retreated hurriedly. "It's okay, if you don't want me to. I don't
mind, ya know? It's just an offer, that's all." He slid free of Renny's
loose embrace so he could look into the long face. Renny didn't seem all
that upset.
 
 "I just don't know… I don't think I can…" Renny stopped, looking
helpless, and Ray's heart melted. He never could resist that look of
adorable confusion.
 
 "Well, I'm okay with that, if it don't bother you." Ray stroked his face,
kissed him on the lips. And hoped. Suddenly he wanted very badly for Renny
to trust him with this.
 
 "I think… yes, I'd like that, Ray." Renny nodded decisively. "Please."
 
 He sounded like a kid asking for a cookie. "Okay. I'm gonna turn the
light on. Is that okay with you?"
 
 "Yes, Ray." Renny smiled trustingly at him.
 
 Ray reached for the wall light, turning it on and setting the dimmer to
its lowest setting. He just wanted to be sure he'd see it if Renny started
having second thoughts.
 
 He started slowly, leaning down to snatch little kisses while his fingers
toyed with the short scattered hairs on Renny's chest. That seemed to go
down pretty well and he brushed against the pale nipples, drawing a soft
"oh!" from his lover. "That good, buddy?"
 
 Renny nodded emphatically and smiled again.
 
 Ray kissed one nipple, then the other, feeling the heart beneath it
beating strongly against his lips. His hand slid down the solid abdominal
muscles, across the flat belly and came to rest over Renny's swollen cock.
Big as he was, it was nowhere near being erect but Ray had pretty much
expected that. It still felt good to touch him there and judging by his
reactions, Renny was enjoying it too.
 
 Just take it easy and keep watch for any sign that Renny was getting
worried, Ray told himself. Don't expect too much. And in fact it was
surprisingly easy to drift, watching Renny's face respond to his caresses.
 
 "Oh! Oh, Ray…" Renny's hand slid under the blanket and joined his. "That
feels so good."
 
 "Yeah…" Ray shifted the covers aside and looked at their hands moving,
fingers linked, over the thick curve of Renny's cock lying against his
thigh. "You're so beautiful, baby."
 
 "Am I? Oh…" Renny's head fell back and his hand slid away to rest on his
thigh. "Ray…"
 
 There was nothing but pleasure in his face. Ray checked once more, then
turned his attention to the beauty before him. Renny's cock was swollen
almost to its fullest, but was showing no signs of hardening. It lay
heavily against his thigh, shifting slightly as the muscles stirred. The
cockhead was gleaming softly in the dim glow of the lamp and Ray carefully
spread the few precious drops of precum over the entire surface.
 
 He wondered how Renny would feel being kissed and sucked and decided not
to risk it. This was already far more than he'd expected to happen and he
didn't want to break into Renny's dazed pleasure to ask. His fingers slid
down the shaft and cupped his balls for a moment, but when Renny moved
restlessly, he went back to his stroking.
 
 Gradually the big body relaxed against his and Renny sighed quietly. It
was some time before Ray realised that his breathing had slowed into
sleep. Even though it had been obvious for a while that Renny wasn't going
to climax, Ray was still reluctant to stop. It had just felt so good to
touch him like this again. And it had felt good to know that Renny trusted
him with his body, after all that had happened to him. It was humbling.
Frightening, when he thought too much about it.
 
 Ray kissed Renny's parted lips and received a soft snore as his reward.
He grinned and pulled the covers up over them both, then turned off the
light. He lay down and snuggled up close to the warm bulk beside him,
knowing that when he woke in the morning Renny would be lying in his arms
with his head resting comfortably on Ray's shoulder.
 
 *
 
 "You did what?" Ray stared at his partner in bewildered fury. "Are you
out of your fucking mind?" He turned away from Kowalski before he could
physically attack the hormonally over-charged, fuck-anything-that-moves,
sex-crazed deviant. "I shoulda known better than to let you have him to
yourself. Can't you keep your dick in your pants for one fucking weekend?"
 
 "Hey! He wanted it, okay?" Kowalski's voice rose sharply. "He started it,
not me."
 
 That did it. Ray had the smaller man shoved up against the wall, one hand
drawn back to punch his lights out, before he was even aware of moving.
"Sure. You would say that. Just like every fucking child molester in the
world. Be original, at least."
 
 Kowalski's face, pale until now, suddenly flushed bright red and his eyes
narrowed dangerously. "Don't you ever call me a child molester."
Belatedly, his hands came up, bunched into fists. "I've taken a lot of
shit from you because I don't wanna hurt Fraser or Renny, but I won't take
that."
 
 They stayed like that for a moment. Suddenly Ray was painfully aware that
he'd crossed a line he never should have even been near. With an effort
that hurt he released Kowalski and stepped away. "I'm sorry. I was outta
line."
 
 "Way outta line." Kowalski tugged his T-shirt back into a slightly less
creased state. They eyed each other warily.
 
 "I'm sorry." Saying the words again didn't seem to make it any better.
Ray dropped onto the couch and put his head in his hands, feeling lousy.
 
 It seemed like a long time before Kowalski joined him on the couch.
"Look, I know you only said it 'cause you're worried about Renny… but he's
okay. Honestly. I thought you'd be glad about it."
 
 "He's not ready for sex." Ray looked up into Kowalski's delicate features
and tried not to get angry all over again. "If you had any idea…"
 
 "I've got an idea. You think this is the first time I've dealt with a
rape victim?" Kowalski managed a weak smile. "You know, you don't have to
be the one to do it all. Renny thought he was ready. And anyway, it wasn't
sex. Just… touching. That's all. He's fine."
 
 Ray's hands started to shake, and he got up and walked over to the
window, ramming his fists into his pants pockets. For the first time he
almost wished he could feel Armando, but the rage that coursed through him
was all his own. He knew he was dead wrong, but that didn't stop him
wanting to beat Kowalski senseless. So he stared out the window, clenched
his teeth until his jaw ached, and fought for control.
 
 "Are you okay?" It was Kowalski, too close behind him.
 
 He stifled the urge to turn and plant a fist into that pretty face. "Just
back off, okay? Leave me alone."
 
 "A'right… I'll go make some coffee or somethin', okay? Just take it
easy."
 
 "Sure." If only he could.
 
 *
 
 Today had been a good day at the Consulate, one of the best days for a
long time. He'd managed to get through the whole shift without annoying
Inspector Thatcher, something of a rarity lately, as she hastily wrapped
up her tenure there in preparation for her return to Ottawa and some top
secret assignment she was refusing to discuss.
 
 Even Benton had been more than usually mellow and it had been easy to
keep him that way. They'd exchanged a few pleasantries, rather awkwardly
because even now neither of them was accustomed to such things. Benton was
making an effort to be friendlier lately and Renny couldn't help
responding, even though his infatuation with his superior had faded to a
quiet murmur. Still, it was nice to know that he was appreciated a little
more these days.
 
 Renny walked briskly, enjoying the cooler weather. It had taken some time
for him to feel safe on the streets and Ray had driven him to and from the
Consulate every day at first. Then when Benton had returned to Chicago
they'd walked together. But tonight Benton had decided that he needed to
finish some paperwork and did not require his assistance, and Renny was
glad of the opportunity to stretch his legs in solitude.
 
 His sense of wellbeing disappeared as soon as he entered the apartment.
The atmosphere was thick with tension. Ray Kowalski was alone in the
lounge sitting on the couch looking both worried and annoyed. Even though
Ray Vecchio was nowhere in view, Renny had no doubt that he must somewhere
near by; only Ray could have this effect on his partner.
 
 "What's wrong, Ray?" Renny sat beside his lover.
 
 Ray shrugged. "It's Vecchio." There was a long pause while Ray rubbed his
face, then he continued. "Uh… I told him about the other night. About us.
He went crazy."
 
 "Where is he?" In spite of his concern for Ray, Renny's immediate worry
had to be for Ray Vecchio. He'd hoped so much that this weekend alone with
Fraser would have helped Ray. Yet it seemed that he was still as fragile
as ever. "Where is he? Perhaps I should talk to him."
 
 "I dunno…" Ray looked up at him doubtfully. "He's pretty out of it. Maybe
you should leave him for a while."
 
 "Ray, I have to see him. Is he in the bedroom?" That was where he usually
went when things got too much for him. Getting a nod of confirmation from
Ray, Renny smiled weakly and went in search of his other Ray.
 
 He found Ray in the smaller bedroom, standing at the window with his
hands in his pockets. The lines of his body betrayed a degree of disquiet
that set off alarms in Renny's mind. He needed to do something, but what?
Renny wished that he was better with words, but he wasn't; still, he had
to try.
 
 It was obvious that Ray had heard him come in, but the other man didn't
turn, or acknowledge his presence in any way. Renny swallowed nervously,
afraid not of Ray, but of his own inadequacy to help. They both stood in
silence for a while until Ray finally turned to face him.
 
 Ray's eyes travelled over him, lingering on his face at the last. "Are
you okay?"
 
 There was a great deal of stress in the quiet voice. Renny took a step
closer. "Oh yes. Please don't be upset with Ray. He would never do
anything to hurt me."
 
 "I just…" Ray half turned away again as his voice broke. The tension he
obviously felt was evident in his shoulders and arms. "I'm glad it's okay,
all right? I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said what I did."
 
 He wasn't about to ask what had been said. Renny went over to Ray and put
his arms around him, letting him feel with his body that everything was
all right. With a quiet sigh Ray relaxed a little against him and then put
his arms lightly around Renny's waist. Renny lowered his head so their
cheeks touched lightly.
 
 "Ray, it wasn't your fault." The words came out of nowhere and yet the
moment they left his mouth Renny knew they needed to be said. "None of it
was your fault."
 
 Ray didn't even pretend not to know what he meant. Another sigh fanned
warm air against his face. "Renny, Laurier came to Chicago because of me.
I knew he'd come. I shoulda warned you to stay away."
 
 "You couldn't have done that without telling me why." He tightened his
arms around Ray. "I understand that. I understand why you didn't want me
to know about him. You did what you thought was best, Ray. You couldn't do
any more than that."
 
 "It wasn't enough!" The cry seemed to be torn out of him.
 
 Renny shook his head. "It was all you could do. It wasn't your fault."
 
 "Renny…" it sounded like Ray was crying. "You shouldn't have had to go
through that. Not you."
 
 "No one should, Ray." Renny kissed Ray's cheek gently. "If I had been
more careful, you would never have had to rescue me. You would never have
been raped, either."
 
 Ray's head came up sharply. "That was not your fault!"
 
 Renny shook his head silently. He wasn't going to argue about it; he
could never win an argument with Ray anyway; but he held the gaze until he
could no longer bear to see the pain in Ray's eyes.
 
 Ray moved away then; and though it hurt more than he could ever have
imagined, Renny let him go. Ray drifted back towards the window and stood
staring out of it again. Finally, when it felt like something inside him
might snap, Renny went over and once again put his arms around his lover
from behind.
 
 "What are we going to do, Renny?" Ray's voice was hoarse. "Sometimes it
feels like it's never going to end."
 
 Once again, words failed him. Renny lowered his head and nuzzled the nape
of Ray's neck. It felt good, so he kissed the warm skin softly. Ray
relaxed a fraction, angling his head to make it a little easier for him.
This was comfortable ground for them both. Renny had always liked to touch
and kiss, and Ray had never refused him, even in those first, terrible
days after the rape.
 
 The weather was still warm enough that Ray was wearing one of the silk
shirts that suited him so well. Renny found his hands drifting over the
sensuous surface, stopping occasionally to cradle the warm hard muscle
beneath against his palm. Soon Ray moaned softly and turned to face him so
their mouths could meet. They stood pressed together in the last warm rays
of early evening sun and let it flow over them like honey.
 
 Soon Ray moved restlessly in his arms, getting ready to withdraw, but
Renny clasped him a little more firmly. "Don't go, Ray, please." His heart
began to beat faster, his skin to prickle with excitement and nerves.
"Don't go."
 
 Ray gasped faintly, then stilled. "Renny, are you…" his voice trailed off
and his eyes widened. He lifted a hand to stroke Renny's cheek. "What do
you want?"
 
 "It was always going to be you, Ray. It could never be anybody but you.
Don't you know that?" Renny began to tremble. He hadn't expected it to be
now, today; but now that it had happened, he was absolutely sure that it
was right. "Please, Ray."
 
 Ray stroked his cheek and it was all Renny could do to remain still,
looking Ray in the face and trying to convey his certainty to the other
man. Ray's green eyes were troubled, but after a moment he nodded. "If
you're sure."
 
 A rush of emotion almost overset his self-control, but he managed to
blink back tears and smile radiantly. "I'm sure Ray."
 
 Ray's eyes dropped to Renny's Sam Browne belt and lanyard and one corner
of his mouth quirked upwards. "It's a damn miracle you don't get heat
stroke in that outfit." His fingers were already working with skilled
familiarity, unfastening the belt. Renny ducked his head to allow Ray to
remove the lanyard.
 
 Since it seemed to be what Ray wanted, Renny allowed his lover to
unbutton the tunic and slide his hands over the regulation white T-shirt
beneath. It always felt good to be touched by Ray, but for the first time
since Ray had returned to Chicago, his touch was deliberately sensual. Far
more so than Ray Kowalski's had been on Saturday night. He supposed it was
intentional, giving him the chance to back out before things had gone too
far. Except that he had no intention of backing out.
 
 A gentle touch on his nipples sent a thrill of pleasure through Renny's
body and he swayed towards Ray instinctively. The long hands steadied him,
but Renny leaned forward and captured Ray's mouth in a deep, searching
kiss. They were both breathless when it ended.
 
 Ray nodded thoughtfully, as though he'd found the answer to whatever
doubts had been in his mind. "Okay." He slid the tunic off Renny's
shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
 
 Ordinarily Renny would have protested such carelessness with his uniform,
but now was not the time for that. He focussed all of his attention on
Ray's sensual lips, watching as they curved into a tiny smile. The braces
were slipped off his shoulders and his T-shirt pulled slowly out of his
jodhpurs and over his head. Then Ray's long fingers slid over his skin
leaving tremors in their wake. 
 
 He'd always thought that Ray had the most beautiful hands he'd ever seen.
They felt so very good touching him, gentle and comforting. Even when he'd
been sick with terror after one of his nightmares, those hands had held
the power to soothe him and they didn't fail him now. Renny leaned into
their caress and kissed Ray's lips, parting them with his tongue.
 
 "Renny…" Ray's sigh sent a warm Ray-scented gust of breath into his
mouth. Renny breathed it into his lungs, absorbing it into his body with a
sense of surrender. "What do you want me to do?"
 
 There wasn't the slightest doubt in his mind about that. "I want you to
fuck me." He felt the truth of it flood through his body. His anus pulsed
softly in anticipation.
 
 Not much to his surprise, Ray drew back, his face troubled one more. "Are
you sure about that?"
 
 "Very sure, Ray." He kissed the slackened lips tenderly. "It's all right.
I wouldn't ask you if I wasn't."
 
 Ray's fingers brushed over his chest, ruffling the short hairs and Renny
relaxed with a little sigh of pleasure. He'd expected to have an argument
on his hands, but it seemed as though Ray had accepted his request. A tiny
moan built in his chest and was released as a feather light caress teased
his left nipple to hardness.
 
 He was peripherally aware that Ray was still rather detached, watching
his responses and waiting for any adverse reaction. He wasn't worried
about that. The more Ray touched him, the more that touch sent delicate
tendrils of pleasure creeping through his body. He began to slip the
buttons free on Ray's shirt and when they were undone he slid his hands
inside, rubbing his palms over the silky furriness between Ray's nipples. 
 
 The shirt was shrugged off and Ray came into Renny's arms. The scent of
Ray's cologne, the feel of his skin was so sweetly familiar… comfortable
and safe. Ray's tongue slipped into his mouth and he welcomed it eagerly.
His hands brushed lightly over Ray's back down to his buttocks, drawing
their hips together. Ray was becoming aroused. Renny felt the hardness of
his erection with a thrill of pleasure.
 
 He backed up towards the bed, drawing Ray with him then sat on the edge,
guiding Ray to stand between his spread legs. Renny buried his face
against Ray's stomach and heard his quiet groan. Then Ray's long fingers
stroked gently through his hair. He kissed the flat belly, his tongue
investigating the shallow bowl of Ray's navel, teasing the wiry hairs that
grew around it.
 
 "Mmn… nice, Renny." Ray's body almost vibrated with pleasure. He cupped
one hand against Renny's cheek, holding him close. "You still okay?"
 
 Instead of answering with words Renny fumbled for the zipper of Ray's
pants. Ray made no move, either to stop him or to help. Renny's hands were
trembling quite badly, but he managed to wrestle Ray's belt buckle free
and loosen the pants so they could fall to the floor. Ray was wearing silk
boxers. He almost always did, and Renny smiled at some of the memories
that flashed into his head. A quick flick of his thumb loosed the button
and the boxers dropped to join the pants around Ray's ankles.
 
 Ray wasn't completely hard, but he was close. Heat radiated against
Renny's cheek as he began kissing the slightly sweaty skin of Ray's belly.
After a moment he brought his hand up to touch the velvety skin of the
shaft, cradling it against his cheek, then turned his head a little and
touched his lips to the surface. Ray shivered.
 
 It was almost like a dream, one he hadn't had in far too long. Slowly he
kissed his way to the slick cockhead and took it into his mouth without
the slightest hesitation. The wonderful taste of Ray flooded his mouth and
made his head reel. Renny sucked gently, taking the cock a little deeper. 
 
 Ray was absolutely still; even his hands did no more than rest lightly on
Renny's shoulder and head. Small, steady tremors ran through his slender
body and his breathing was now plainly audible. 
 
 "Renny… not too fast, huh?" He stepped back and kicked off his shoes,
pants and underwear. The black silk socks followed rapidly after, then Ray
knelt before his lover. "How about we even things up a bit?"
 
 Renny had no objection to Ray unlacing and removing his boots, or
removing his jodhpurs and shorts, for that matter. When it was done he
slid back onto the bed and waited for Ray to stretch out alongside him.
They lay in a loose embrace, kissing lazily and exchanging gentle caresses
while Ray became more and more aroused, and Renny didn't. At least not
physically aroused. It was still wonderful.
 
 "Are you sure you're okay with this?" Ray leaned up on one elbow and
stared down into Renny's face with a hint of anxiety in his eyes.
 
 Renny smiled up at him. "I'm sure Ray. Don't worry about this." He made a
slightly embarrassed gesture towards his only semi-erect cock. "It doesn't
really matter, does it, if you're going to fuck me…"
 
 "Yeah, but…" Ray reached for the pillows and piled them up, guiding Renny
onto them. He leaned over and kissed him again, then lowered his head to
suck a nipple to hardness.
 
 Renny drew the close cropped head against his chest with a quiet,
heartfelt moan. Ray leaned against him and began stroking again, this time
heading inexorably downwards until Renny's swollen cock was resting in his
hand.
 
 It was the first time that Ray had touched him there and Renny groaned
aloud. "Oh, Ray…"
 
 "You like it?" Ray's eyes gleamed and he paused to reach for the lube
that they kept in the top drawer. The coolness from the slippery gel faded
almost immediately and then Ray began his stroking, gently squeezing and
drawing the heavy length through his fingers, pulling away from Renny's
groin. 
 
 He relaxed, allowing Ray's stroking to rock his hips slightly. The
sucking on his nipples resumed and Renny let his head fall back and his
eyes close in sensuous contentment. Slowly his cock began to stiffen. Ray
shifted again, bending over Renny's groin and dropping tiny kisses on his
belly and thighs, running his tongue lightly over the tightening balls.
Renny managed to crack open one eyelid when he felt Ray draw his cock back
up onto his belly and start a rhythmic stroking of the thick cum vein. His
hips moved, pressing his cock against Ray's caressing hand.
 
 At last it seemed that Ray was satisfied. He sat up, smiling, and held
out a small square of foil. Renny took it, tearing it open without a word.
Aware that this too was one of Ray's tests, he rolled the condom on to
Ray's cock carefully. 
 
 He felt no hesitation, not the slightest tremor as he did it but, leaning
back into the pillows as Ray eased himself into position between his
parted thighs, Renny had a sudden, sickening memory of the brutal probing
that had heralded each of Laurier's attacks. In retrospect, that had been
worse than the beatings or the actual rapes… those seemingly endless
moments when he knew, without any doubt, that he was about to be violated
again. When he could do nothing but clench his teeth and wait for it all
to be over.
 
 His breath caught in his throat and for a second he froze. Ray sensed it
immediately. His eyes lifted to Renny's face. "What's wrong?"
 
 "Ray." He choked out his lover's name through the constriction in his
throat. He began to shake and his view of Ray's face blurred suddenly, but
he had no intention of stopping now. He reached out and pulled Ray closer.
"Ray, please… quickly. Please."
 
 After a brief hesitation he felt a gentle touch on his anus. He slid
sideways off the pillows, trying to make it easier for Ray to enter him.
Then the slender cock slid smoothly inside him and the worst was over. He
shuddered and choked on a sob as scalding tears cascaded from the corners
of his eyes.
 
 "Baby, it's okay… it's okay…" it sounded as though Ray was crying too.
Renny lifted a hand to Ray's cheek and it came away wet.
 
 He moaned softly and drew Ray's head down for a long kiss, trying to
convey what he was incapable of saying aloud… that he would be all right
and that he wanted, more than anything in the world, for Ray to make love
to him.
 
 Ray groaned and began to move slowly inside him. At first it was all
jumbled, meaningless impressions, but gradually sensation and emotion
meshed together and Renny was aware that he was responding with pleasure.
It was nothing like Laurier, nothing at all… he arched his back, moving
with Ray's gentle thrusts, and brought his legs up to wrap around Ray's
hips.
 
 It had been so long… so very long, since he'd made love. His arousal
rapidly escalated until Renny was overwhelmed by it. He clung desperately
to Ray, trusting him to keep them both safe and when Ray's mouth claimed
his own, he surrendered willingly.
 
 Between their bodies Renny's cock twitched and thrashed as though it had
a will of its own. Ray's thrusts deepened, became just a little more
forceful. Renny moved with him, desperate to retain that fragile
connection between Ray's cock and his body. He was beyond all sense,
beyond speech, but Ray seemed to know what he needed. Ray's hands came
down, framing his hips, lifting him to ride the iron length of his cock.
 
 Inevitably, it was all over in minutes. The long months of emptiness and
fear had taken too much of a toll and in spite of his efforts, Renny
couldn't hold back the overwhelming tide of stimulation. Hot gouts of
viscous fluid splashed his chest and belly, a seemingly endless gusher,
while inside him Ray's cock pulsed in involuntary response. He cried out,
his voice hoarse and ragged, then tumbled into a euphoric daze. 
 
 *
 
 By the time Ben arrived home, Kowalski was all but gibbering with worry.
He hardly seemed to notice Dief's greeting, but pounced on Ben with a
desperate glint in his eyes.
 
 Swallowing his instinctive nervous response, Ben put his Stetson
carefully aside and took hold of his lover's wiry arms. "What's wrong,
Ray?"
 
 It all came tumbling out, mercifully with many a pause while Ray fought
his agitation to find the words he needed. Eventually, Ben thought he
understood the situation. "Where are they now?"
 
 "In there." Ray's head jerked towards the second bedroom. "It's been
hours."
 
 "Indeed." The apartment was extremely dark by now and Ben had a pretty
good idea of how long it would have taken Renfield to walk home. "Have you
tried to…" he let the question tail off delicately.
 
 Ray shook his head. "I figured best to leave them. I couldn't hear
anything, but…"
 
 "You're right, of course, but..." he drew the quivering body into his
arms and strived for a soothing tone. "Perhaps we should check on them
now."
 
 "I dunno…" Ray leaned against him, obviously trying to relax. Ben kissed
him.
 
 It was enough to distract Ray for a few moments and then he sighed and
leaned his head against Ben's shoulder. "I just… you know…"
 
 "…feel responsible." Ben smiled.
 
 "I guess." Ray's arms slid around his waist.
 
 The sound of a door opening made them draw apart. Ray Vecchio appeared in
the doorway, wrapped in a thin robe and looking exhausted. "Benny…"
 
 A moment later Ben had his arms full of a completely different Ray. He
could feel the weariness in every trembling muscle of Ray's body. "Are you
all right?"
 
 "How's Renny?" Ray Kowalski's voice interrupted, harsh with worry.
 
 "He's fine." Ben felt Ray's body relax suddenly against his, as if saying
the words had finally made them real. Ray turned slightly to look at his
partner. "I was wrong, what I said before. You did the right thing, okay?
I'm sorry."
 
 The other man looked away and down at the floor. Ben thought he saw tears
glinting in the pale eyes. "'S okay."
 
 They stood in silence in the growing darkness for a moment. Ben started
stroking Ray's back soothingly and felt him shiver. "Is Renfield awake,
Ray?"
 
 "Probably by now." A weak laugh shook his body. "Dief was sniffing at the
door. That's what woke me… he got in when I opened the door."
 
 "I'll go check on him." Ray Kowalski took a couple of steps then turned
back. His voice was uncharacteristically hesitant. "You think that'll be
okay?"
 
 "Yeah, that's good. I think he'll want to see you." If anything, Ray
seemed to be leaning even more heavily against him and Ben's arms
tightened instinctively. He lowered his head to nuzzle Ray's cheek.
 
 "Are you all right, Ray?" Ben repeated his query.
 
 Ray nodded slowly and sighed. "We made love, Benny. He let me… he wanted
to…"
 
 Ben was surprised by the depth of his relief and pleasure. "That's
wonderful news. We can start to…" he stopped when he realised that Ray was
crying quietly. "Ray?"
 
 "I'm okay. It's just… it's taken so long. I thought it was never gonna
happen." Ray wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I didn't mean to
get all mushy."
 
 Ben kissed him. "I think you can be forgiven this once." He saw Ray's
grin with a lifting of his heart.
 
 The light came on, startling them. "He's good. Dief's keeping him
company." 
 
 Ray Kowalski looked like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. It
amazed Ben sometimes that both these men could be so devoted to his
likeable but less than satisfactory subordinate. On rare occasions he even
allowed himself to wonder if they saw some quality in Renfield Turnbull
that he'd somehow missed.
 
 At the moment, though, he was simply pleased to see that his two lovers
were being drawn together by their common regard for Renfield. Even as he
thought it, the man in his arms reached out a hand to Ray Kowalski and
they joined together in a three-way hug. It went on for some time, with
neither Ray making any move to end it. Then the two of them kissed, quite
unselfconsciously.
 
 It was curiously arousing to watch, even though the kiss seemed to be
more for comfort than an expression of desire. Ben waited until it ended
then kissed each man in turn. "I knew you'd hit it off."
 
 They both grinned at the reminder of that dimly lit hotel room where all
three of them had met for the first time. Ray Kowalski detached himself
reluctantly from the group. "I told Renny I'd stay with him. You take it
easy, okay?"
 
 "Sure." Ray yawned hugely. "I might turn in too. How about you Benny?"
 
 Visions of the three of them making love retreated unwillingly from Ben's
mind. "I'd be delighted, Ray."
 
 *
 
 Ray Kowalski crouched in the shadows between a forklift and a pile of
wooden crates listening to the voice of Armando Langoustini. It was a
smooth, arrogant voice, nothing like his partner Ray Vecchio's voice. It
brought back memories of a dimly lit hotel room, and a couple of goons,
and a man with death in his eyes. He cursed under his breath,
understanding for the first time why Vecchio was so scared of his alter
ego.
 
 It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be watching
this place, the usual scut work the FBI gave them to keep them away from
the real action, but something had gone badly wrong. For two days they'd
sat in a cramped office overlooking this warehouse and watched people
wander in and out. Nothing suspicious. Until today. Until an hour ago,
actually, when the irregular trickle became a small but steady stream of
men entering, but not leaving.
 
 He'd lost track of how many times they'd tried to call their FBI
contacts. They'd got nothing but voicemail. And no replies to the messages
either. Finally they'd decided to go in and have a look. Just a look, that
was all. Except that they'd hardly got inside when a bunch of men, far too
well dressed for this place had passed by only a few yards ahead of them
and the doors had clanged shut with a finality that told them both there'd
be guards stationed by them. A quick check had confirmed their worst
fears.
 
 Ray had been busy calling Welsh on his cell phone when Vecchio had stood
up, walked calmly out of their no-so-safe hiding place and identified
himself to the business-suited men as Armando Langoustini.
 
 So far it was working. Vecchio had spun a smooth enough story. It was
almost the truth... the Feds watching them, waiting to take them out in a
big messy drugs bust that would remove the best men in two prominent East
Coast Families. And now here he was, Armando 'The Bookman' Langoustini,
willing to bail them out. For a big fat fee.
 
 "So how does it work?" That was Antonio Rinaldi, grey suited and loaded
with heavy gold jewellery, a real Mafia stereotype. He sounded like he
wasn't quite ready to play along just yet.
 
 "Simple." Armando's voice was chillingly bland. "You sell to me. I'll
guarantee there's no trouble. The Iguana family sits on the stash for six
months, time enough to let things cool down. Then I sell to Kraus here.
You sell your stuff, Kraus buys it, there's just a small delay in the
process."
 
 Kraus scowled. If anybody was going to cause trouble it would be him, Ray
guessed. "And what do you get out of it?"
 
 "Besides the pleasure of helping two colleagues?" Armando was coolly
ironic. "Twenty percent." He waited out the grumbling. "Each."
 
 "Like Hell. How do we even know you're Langoustini? Last I heard, he'd
disappeared."
 
 "I did." Ray could hear the smile in Armando's voice. It wasn't exactly
heart warming. "It's been very useful, gentlemen. Now, are you in or not?
You don't have much time to make up your minds. The Feds could arrive any
minute."
 
 Ray checked his watch. It had only been five minutes since he called
Welsh. Not enough time for the hastily arranged backup to get here from
the Twenty-Seventh Precinct. It would have taken even longer to convince
another precinct to send support, but Ray cursed the fact that they were
on the wrong side of town from the Twenty-Seventh. It looked like they
wouldn't get here in time, and it felt to Ray like Armando was losing
them. He was pretty sure Armando knew it too, even though his voice
remained steady.
 
 "How did you find out about this, anyway?" Rinaldi's voice was heavy with
suspicion.
 
 Armando shifted his position, moving around Rinaldi to stand between him
and Ray's hiding place. "I had information. I got a man inside." His
shoulders lifted in a faint, dismissive shrug. "You should have too."
 
 Sweat prickled along Ray's spine. A man inside? He slid his glasses up
his nose and tightened his grip on his gun. Something was going to happen,
and soon.
 
 "You're making this up." Kraus signalled to one of his men. "Did you
think we'd just hand over ten million dollars worth of cocaine on your say
so?"
 
 "Your lack of faith hurts me gentlemen. How sure are you that federal
agents won't be coming in here in the next couple of minutes, with
warrants for your arrest?" Armando shifted again, circling, drawing
Rinaldi and Kraus' eyes with him.
 
 Ray knew then, with absolute certainty, what was going to happen next. As
Armando, now unmistakably Ray Vecchio once more, reached for the
ankle-holstered gun the goons had missed when they'd searched him, Ray
flung a wrench across a stack of pallets to land noisily on their far
side. Then he erupted from his hiding place, yelling.
 
 He hit Vecchio first, knocking him to the floor. They rolled in opposite
directions, firing before the others could decide whether Armando was part
of the attack or a target, like themselves. That brief moment of confusion
was what Ray had been counting on. Three of the goons were down, the rest,
along with the two ringleaders were diving for cover. Ray hit the bottom
of yet another stack of crates while Vecchio came up hard against a pile
of greasy looking sacks. It wasn't much shelter, but it was better than
nothing.
 
 Vecchio wasn't shooting, but then Vecchio didn't have any spare
ammunition for his backup gun. Ray tried to make his clip last. He only
had one spare clip in his back pocket. They hadn't expected this, and
hadn't been prepared for it. It might just get them killed.
 
 Down to the last two bullets in his first clip, he glanced across at
Vecchio and nodded. He got a grin in reply and then Vecchio was firing too
as Ray emptied the clip. Ray rolled behind the crates hastily reloading
while Vecchio took pot shots at anyone stupid enough to stick their nose
out. That was when he remembered the guard by the door. Who would most
certainly be heading in their direction right now. He needed to act fast.
 
 Hotwiring a forklift wasn't so different from a car. The engine grated
into life and lurched forward when he stamped on the accelerator. Ray
swung it toward the crates where Kraus and his men had taken shelter. They
were firing at him now, and he hunched down behind the wheel, flinching
when the shots came too close. As he passed Vecchio he yelled a warning.
 
 Vecchio's eyes widened and he turned to cover Ray's back. Ray cranked the
machine up to its full five miles per hour and headed straight for where
he'd last seen Kraus. There were shots coming from behind him now. He
swore and held steady. It seemed to take forever before he crashed into
the crates, sending one man flying. Ray threw himself on Kraus, gun to his
head.
 
 "Hold it, or your boss gets it." The firing stopped. Even Rinaldi and his
men weren't willing to risk it. "Put the guns down, or I'll kill him."
 
 "You won't do that, Fed. You wouldn't dare." Rinaldi's gun was pointing
to the floor but he wasn't showing any sign of dropping it.
 
 Ray grinned nastily. "Who says I'm a Fed?" He was high on adrenalin. It
wasn't hard to pretend he was ready to shoot. He was. Almost. "Hey Boss,
you okay?"
 
 Vecchio strolled into view, brushing at a mark on his pants. "Do you know
how much these cost?" He eyed the small group coldly. "Your man back
there's dead. You got any good reason why you shouldn't all join him?"
 
 "Hey! You don't..." The goon stopped as Rinaldi lifted his arm, with the
gun still dangling from his fingers. "Quiet Marco. Mr Langoustini, I'm
sure we can work this out."
 
 "Put the guns down. All of you." Vecchio waited while they all obeyed.
"Let him go, Ray."
 
 "But..." Kraus was the only security they had.
 
 Cold green eyes turned on him and Ray swallowed nervously. "Do it. And
then get their guns."
 
 He obeyed without another moment's hesitation. Then, with the guns in a
tidy pile on the seat of the forklift, he exchanged a look with his
partner and wondered how long they could hold eight men, even with the
advantage of guns.
 
 *
 
 When Welsh rushed in with what seemed like half the Twenty-Seventh
Precinct behind him, they were still discussing how the exchange of
cocaine should take place. Ray Vecchio offered a silent prayer of
thanksgiving to a god he'd almost forgotten he'd ever believed in and
handed the entire crew over to their eager hands. He walked past Welsh
with a quiet "Later, sir." and didn't stop walking until he'd got outside.
 
 He was tired, and aching as though he'd been beaten all over, but a tiny
flicker of elation warmed his gut. The temptation to get the Riv out of
the parking garage and just drive away was almost overwhelming. But then
the sudden eruption of Ray Kowalski from the doorway put paid to his
chances of escape, or any hope of some time alone to pull himself
together.
 
 "We did it!" Kowalski seized him in a furious embrace, wiry arms
clutching him almost painfully tight. "That was great, Vecchio. I knew..."
A thump on the back rattled his teeth. "I just knew, ya know? It was
like... I dunno, but it was great." Kowalski pushed him away a bit and
grinned.
 
 Ray couldn't help grinning back. "We're a team, Stanley."
 
 "Yeah." Kowalski's grin faded suddenly. "A team." The hands on his
shoulders tightened as Kowalski's eyes widened and then Ray was pulled
back into an even fiercer embrace, and a kiss that threatened to suck his
tonsils out.
 
 It was insanity. The door was just behind them and someone could come out
at any moment, but Ray kissed back as hungrily as he was being kissed.
Only when a sound came from just inside the doorway did he regain enough
sense to pull away. They both stepped back, panting. He was hard as a
rock, and there was no mistaking the outline in Kowalski's jeans. Thank
God Kowalski had his back to the doorway. Thank God his pants were loose
 
 Luckily it was a very junior uniformed cop, so intent on his duty that he
could spare them only a brief, admiring glance. Ray's eyes went back to
Kowalski's face. As suddenly as it had come, the energy drained away
leaving him feeling cold and exhausted. He backed away and dropped down to
sit on a small box. He put his head in his hands.
 
 "You okay, Vecchio?" Kowalski was looking down at him with a worried
frown.
 
 He patted the box beside him and shifted over to make room. "Yeah, it's
just... being Armando takes it out of me." He smiled weakly. "But you know
something? I wasn't Armando, not really. I was pretending. I knew I was
pretending. It was like a mask I could put on and then take it off when it
was over." An arm came around his shoulder and he leaned into it. "I'm
free of him, Ray. I don't have to be afraid of him any more."
 
 Kowalski didn't say a word and Ray wondered if he, or anybody else, would
ever understand what that meant to him. But when he met the other man's
gaze, he saw relief and happiness and that was enough. In spite of
himself, in spite of the danger of somebody else coming through that door,
Ray leaned in closer and kissed his partner.
 
 This time it was quiet. They were both shaking with reaction, but the
kiss was sweet and untroubled. He hadn't expected this kind of tenderness,
though he'd seen it directed towards Renny often enough. Even Fraser on
the odd occasion. But his relationship with Kowalski wasn't like that.
Until now.
 
 The sound of voices coming closer gave them more warning this time. They
eased themselves apart slightly and Ray leaned his head back against the
wall and closed his eyes. He felt a hand touch him lightly on the shoulder
and then Kowalski stood and walked away.
 
 *
 
 "Ray, what happened to your..." Ben's voice trailed off into silence as
his eyes went past Ray's shoulder to Ray Vecchio.
 
 Ray grinned almost bouncing on his feet, knowing he was full of a manic
energy that would drive himself and everyone else crazy, but unable to
stop himself. He thought they'd come down off their adrenalin high at the
Stationhouse, but that had just been a breather. On the drive home he and
Vecchio had been as mad as a couple of teenagers. They were lucky they'd
got home in one piece. He pounded Ben on the shoulder. "We cracked it,
Frase... Rinaldi and Kraus and their goons and they'll all be singin' like
birds in a coupla hours."
 
 "...and Kowalski's taken over the job of wrecking my clothes. You can
retire now Benny." Vecchio's voice was cheerfully sarcastic.
 
 Ben got that blank, slightly bewildered look on his face that he usually
reserved for Renny's weirdest behaviour, and the two of them started
laughing.
 
 Vecchio squirmed inside his grubby clothing. "I'm gonna take a shower
before dinner."
 
 "I'll join ya." Ray made to follow him but stopped as Ben caught his arm.
 
 "Ray, what's happened? This behaviour is... well, it's rather..."
 
 "Crazy?" Ray grinned. "It's okay Frase, we cracked the case. Arrested
eight Mob guys while the Feds were off on the other side of Chicago,
thinking they'd cut us out of the action." They'd discovered that about an
hour after they got back to the Stationhouse and sometime soon he wouldn't
feel quite so unconcerned about it, but right now he didn't give a damn.
"So we're the heroes and they look like the horses' asses they are."
 
 "I see." Fraser smiled his relief. "That was very well done, Ray.
Congratulations."
 
 "It was Vecchio, really. He was incredible." Just thinking about it made
him feel hot again. He thought regretfully of the shower and what he and
Vecchio could be doing in it right now, but he wanted to share this with
somebody who would get it all. Not just the cop stuff, but the personal
things too. "He pretended to be Langoustini... he was stringing them along
like you wouldn't believe."
 
 Ben's face became troubled, and Ray laughed. "It's okay Frase, I told ya.
He just did it, had 'em all eating out of his hands after we took the guns
off them and..."
 
 "Guns, Ray?" The frown deepened.
 
 "Oh yeah... well, they didn't exactly buy it at first. So we... ya know I
just knew what he was gonna do, Frase, just like that time with you, at
that poker game... so I kinda jumped them and we... well, it was okay. We
had it under control pretty quick and Vecchio took out the guy who was
sneaking up on us." Ray realised he was babbling and took a deep breath.
"Anyway, Welsh arrived about then with backup and it was all over. And the
best thing is…" He stopped as Fraser's eyes slid past his shoulder.
 
 Renny was standing in the doorway, his face ashen. "Ray? What's
happened?"
 
 All his elation came crashing down around him. Ray hurried over and put
his arms around Renny's trembling body. "Nothin'. It's okay buddy, Vecchio
and I, we just made a bust… a really good bust, but it's over now. We're
both fine."
 
 It didn't make any difference. Renny's blue eyes were too bright, his
face too pale. "Was it dangerous? Ray?"
 
 He tried to shrug it off. "Nah, not really. We had it all under control."
 
 "You could have both been killed." Renny obviously wasn't convinced. The
tremors increased.
 
 Across the room, Fraser cleared his throat. "I'm sure they took no
unnecessary risks, Renfield. They were doing their duty, after all."
 
 Ray cursed silently. Fraser was only trying to help, but that was
probably the last thing Renny needed to hear. "Look, Renny, we…"
 
 But Renny was pulling away from him. "I'm sorry. Benton's right of
course. I shouldn't… I'd better get back to cooking dinner."
 
 "Get Vecchio." Ray flung the words at Fraser and followed Renny into the
kitchen. "You need any help?"
 
 "No, I…" Renny turned to face him and his eyes widened. "You're, ah… a
little…"
 
 Ray glanced down at the greasy smears on his clothing and grinned. "I
guess I'd better wash up first, huh? What's for dinner?" Anything to keep
Renny talking until Vecchio got here.
 
 "Grilled polenta…" Renny gestured vaguely towards the stove, forgetting
the large kitchen knife in his hand. "And… and…"
 
 "Hey." Ray fought the urge to duck. He took the knife from Renny's hand.
"It doesn't matter, buddy. Just take it easy."
 
 Fraser and Vecchio came in then, Vecchio in nothing but a towel and still
dripping wet. Renny turned to him, as he always did, and was taken into a
hard embrace. Ray could see him shaking. He moved away, going to stand by
Fraser and lean into him for comfort. It always rattled him to see Renny
upset. After a moment, they left the two of them alone together.
 
 Dinner was subdued. Ray felt exhausted and Vecchio didn't look any
better. The adrenalin rush was over and reaction had set in with a
vengeance. Renny was completely silent unless one of them asked him a
direct question and then barely managed to stammer out a response. Fraser
was the only one of them acting even remotely normal. Not long after
dinner they decided to make it an early night.
 
 A hand on his arm stopped him from following Fraser and Renny to the
bedroom. He turned to face his partner. "Look, I think…" Vecchio
hesitated, searching for the words.
 
 He knew what Vecchio was trying to say. They couldn't leave Renny alone
tonight, not even with Fraser to keep him company, and what they wanted to
do would be better done without an audience. "It's okay. Tonight's not a
good night." He managed a slight smile. "Tomorrow, maybe."
 
 "Yeah." Vecchio's eyes scanned his face and then they were kissing.
 
 It took all of his self-control not to push it beyond what Vecchio was
offering, and he knew Vecchio felt the same way. He'd known this would
happen eventually, but he hadn't thought he would fall so damn hard. They
drew apart after a moment and went into the bedroom where Renny and Fraser
were already in bed. Ray tried not to watch too obviously when Vecchio
started undressing, but something must have registered with the other two,
because Renny ended up snuggling against a resigned looking Fraser,
leaving the other half of the bed for him and Vecchio.
 
 "G'night." He kissed Vecchio again and felt a gentle touch on his cheek.
 
 Vecchio twisted around to turn off the bedside lamp. When he lay down
again they kissed some more, adding a few hesitant caresses for good
measure. It was pleasant and only mildly arousing, but they were both too
tired to do much anyway. Ray wasn't even aware of drifting off to sleep.
 
 *
 
 The apartment was dark, and silent, when Ray Kowalski let himself in.
Which meant the others were in bed and, from the lack of sound, fast
asleep. Ray sighed. He hadn't intended to be so late, but the two fights
he gone to watch at his old gym had taken longer than expected; and then
he'd gone a couple of rounds with Joe. He rubbed the developing bruise on
his jaw. Maybe he shouldn't have done that, but he'd felt too wired to
just come home. Now he was facing having to sleep alone in the guestroom,
or take the chance of waking the others.
 
 Deciding in favour of the guestroom, Ray pointed himself, a little
shakily, in the right direction. He'd only had a couple of beers, but
wandering around in the dark didn't help his sense of balance any. Still,
he made it to the bedroom without making any noise. But when he switched
on the light, Ray had to choke back a curse. He'd forgotten about Renny's
out of season spring cleaning binge.
 
 The bed was covered in clothes taken out of the closet to be dry-cleaned;
there were no curtains covering the windows, and beneath the tidy piles of
clothing, the bed was stripped bare. It would take half an hour at least
to put the room to rights, and Ray doubted he'd be able to do it without
dropping or falling over something and probably waking the sleepers in the
process.
 
 There were some blankets still in the closet. Ray grabbed one and headed
for the couch. Without turning on the light, Ray shucked his shoes and
socks, then dropped his jeans and jacket, leaving him wearing the
sleeveless top he'd worn for his brief workout and his shorts. He dropped
onto the couch and pulled the blanket over himself with a sigh.
 
 Five minutes later he rolled onto his side and pulled the edge of the
blanket over his shoulder. Two minutes after that he twisted around to lie
on his other side with his nose less than an inch away from the back of
the couch. He punched the cushion a few times with no noticeable effect,
then groaned and rolled onto his back again.
 
 Trouble was, he was still too wired to sleep, and he didn't have to look
far for the reason. In fact the reason was in the main bedroom, in bed
with a couple of Canadians, and fast asleep. Dammit, they should have
found a way to do it by now, but Renny had been on edge all week, the
guestroom bore witness to that. And when Renny was on edge there was
absolutely no way he and Vecchio could just take themselves off into the
guestroom to fuck each other senseless and leave Renny to Fraser's care.
Fraser just couldn't deal with Renny when he was in that state.
 
 Ray stretched his arms out above his head and then crossed them over his
forehead and stared up at the ceiling, even though it was too dark for him
to see it. They should have found a way to do it, and then he wouldn't
have got into this state. He closed his eyes and resisted the urge to get
up and pace around the room. His legs felt cramped on the narrow couch and
his gut ached. He rubbed it reflectively and felt a definite twitch in his
groin. It looked like he was going to have to take care of it, if he
wanted to get any sleep tonight.
 
 "Damn you Vecchio." He muttered the curse under his breath and slid his
hand inside his shorts. After a while he kicked his shorts off altogether
and let them drop to the floor.
 
 *
 
 The bed always felt strangely deserted when he was in it alone. Not that
it happened very often, but this morning he was alone. Ray Vecchio had a
vague memory of his two lovers leaving the bed. Not so long ago, he
thought, though he couldn't be certain. He didn't remember Kowalski coming
in at all and if he had, surely he'd still be there. Like him, Kowalski
was definitely not an early riser, especially not when it was the weekend
and, for once, none of them had to go to work.
 
 Ray sat up, still drowsy, gradually registering the quiet voices and the
scent of coffee coming from the kitchen. He sighed and stretched and
reached for his robe. But when he passed the lounge door, he discovered
what had happened to Kowalski. He was asleep on the couch, wrapped in a
blanket that came halfway up his chest. Ray grinned and detoured in
Kowalski's direction.
 
 His partner had a bad case of bed hair and needed a shave. There was a
bruise on the left side of his jaw. Ray stared down at him with a mixture
of frustrated lust and reluctant appreciation. He still wasn't sure why he
felt so attracted to a pale, scrawny, pretty-boy like Kowalski, but he
most definitely was. And that damn tattoo… who in his right mind would get
a tattoo like that? Ray perched carefully on the edge of the couch and
touched the tattoo lightly with one fingertip.
 
 It woke Kowalski. The pale lashes fluttered and Kowalski stared up at
him, bleary eyed and resentful. "Yeah?"
 
 "And a good morning to you too, Stanley." He grinned at his partner,
suddenly feeling unreasonably cheerful. Besides, he knew it would annoy
Kowalski and it did. Kowalski glowered at him but didn't speak. "How late
were you last night, anyway?"
 
 Kowalski levered himself up a little so he was leaning back against the
arm of the couch. "Not that late. You're letting them get you into bad
habits. Going to bed early." He rubbed the back of his neck.
 
 "You want me to help you with that?" Ray leaned forward a little.
 
 Kowalski shook his head and winced. "Nah."
 
 Their eyes met and held for a moment and Ray felt his heartbeat start to
speed up. "So."
 
 "Yeah." Kowalski didn't pretend not to understand. He glanced towards the
kitchen door. They could both hear the other two moving around, preparing
breakfast. "Now?"
 
 "Why not?" Ray waited a moment, then leaned toward him. Their lips
brushed then parted. Ray lifted his hand to pull Kowalski's head towards
him and they kissed again.
 
 It had taken a long time for them to reach this point. Sometimes Ray had
thought it would never happen, but now that it had he intended to make the
most of it. Slowly they moved closer and closer until their bodies were
pressed together. Kowalski was half lying back against the couch, one arm
around Ray's neck, the other awkwardly between their bodies, his fingers
stroking Ray's chest where the robe gaped open.
 
 It wasn't long before his restless fingers found a nipple and pinched it
gently. Ray shivered as a jolt of pleasure reverberated from nipple to
groin and back again in an endlessly repeating loop. His tongue slid
inside Kowalski's mouth taking firm control; Kowalski seized it eagerly,
accepting the claim and responding with his own. When he finally drew back
to catch his breath, Ray's lips felt bruised and sore.
 
 Kowalski was staring up at him, waiting to see what he'd do next. Giving
him space to back away if he wanted to. But Ray didn't want to. He lowered
his head to kiss and suck at the tender skin of Kowalski's throat and felt
a soft groan rumble beneath the skin. The tie of his robe, already loose,
was pulled free and Kowalski's hands continued their investigation. He
shifted his position slightly, pressing the whole length of his body
against his partner's; rubbing against him sensuously, feeling his
erection matched by the one beneath him.
 
 Gentle hands slid over his skull, ruffling the short hairs in a way that
always brought a hungry reaction from him. Ray wondered briefly if Benny
had ever given Kowalski any tips, but decided that was unlikely. He slid
down a little and nuzzled Kowalski's shoulder, smelling a mixture of
slightly stale sweat and cologne, a scent that was at once both intimate
and masculine. His hands rubbed up and down Kowalski's skinny body,
frustrated by the feel of cloth where he wanted to touch skin.
 
 Finally Ray sat up, panting, and dragged the undershirt up over
Kowalski's body, abandoning it once it cleared his nipples. He knew
Kowalski's body well enough by now; with four men sharing a bathroom there
wasn't any way he could have avoided knowing, but he'd never really looked
at it with a lover's eyes. Skinny, yes, but beautiful… pale skin, small
tight nipples ringed with a scattering of hair, all that Kowalski had on
his chest. Ray's eyes slid down the centre line of Kowalski's body to his
navel, and then below to a fine line of hair disappearing under the
blanket.
 
 Without really thinking about it, Ray found himself sprawled across
Kowalski's chest, his lips clinging to the tight bud of one of those
nipples as though his life depended on it. The salt taste of Kowalski's
skin was better than any aphrodisiac. Kowalski let out a choked laugh loud
enough to cause a sudden silence in the kitchen, but neither of them was
likely to be fazed by that. If the other two hadn't figured it out by now,
they weren't the Mounties everyone thought they were.
 
 Kowalski squirmed under him and the blanket slipped, revealing a much
larger expanse of bare skin to Ray's inquisitive fingers than he'd
expected. Kowalski looked up at him deadpan and Ray grinned, then yanked
the blanket down. The only thing Kowalski was wearing was the undershirt
currently decorating his armpits. It was one Hell of a sight and Ray took
a moment to appreciate it.
 
 "Trouble sleeping, huh?" Ray kept his voice innocent.
 
 Kowalski scowled. "Yeah, well I wasn't the meat in a Mountie sandwich
last night, Vecchio."
 
 "So whose fault is that? You wanted to go to the fight." Ray grinned
again, determined to make the most out of this situation. Besides,
Kowalski knew damn well that he and Fraser wouldn't be doing anything much
when Renny was sharing the bed with them.
 
 "You guys coulda come with." The pale eyes flashed in brief annoyance.
 
 Or maybe it was time to back off. Ray shrugged. "Take Renny to a fight?
Are you kidding?"
 
 "Yeah, I guess…" Kowalski conceded the point reluctantly. "So, you gonna
just sit there?"
 
 "I am so glad you asked." Ray let his eyes wander up and down the slender
body. Talking wasn't anywhere near as much fun as what he was about to do.
He leaned forward, nipping and sucking at Kowalski's pale skin until it
was dotted with small, reddened patches. Each nipple was sucked and
tweaked and teased while Kowalski's body heaved beneath him. Then Kowalski
grabbed his head and dragged him up for a lung-deflating kiss.
 
 That was more than okay with Ray. Kowalski thought he liked it rough, but
Ray knew better. He'd experienced the real thing and never wanted to see
any of them get into that kind of stuff. What Kowalski was getting was the
appearance of rough play, and hopefully he'd never find out the
difference. He pulled back, gave his partner a slow, sensual smile and let
his hand drift down over Kowalski's belly, through the soft, wiry pubic
hair and along the moist, sensitive crease of his groin. The thick cock
twitched enthusiastically.
 
 They exchanged a glance; Ray's thoughtful and intent, Kowalski's
impatient. Ray bought his hand up again, between Kowalski's thighs and
took a firm grasp of his balls. He squeezed gently.
 
 "Geez! Oh God…" Kowalski's reaction was all he'd hoped for.
 
 The voices in the kitchen stopped once more and Ray heard a stifled
giggle. Renny, no doubt. Ray smiled to himself and massaged the balls
lightly as Kowalski groaned and squirmed beneath his straddling thighs.
God, he was aching for this. He could feel the tremors in his thighs, but
a year of controlling every reaction had brought him some advantages in
the bedroom. Or on the couch. Ray knew he could make this last as long as
he wanted, and could make sure Kowalski did too.
 
 He stroked his fingers up and down Kowalski's cock, firm strokes that
subdued the urge to thrust and climax. Kowalski shivered, but his hips
settled back into the cushions, relaxing a little. Good. Ray shrugged the
robe off his shoulders and lay down on top of him. He couldn't resist a
small moan as their skin brushed together. For a while they were content
to let their hands and their lips do all the communicating.
 
 "Vecchio… oh, shit…" Kowalski broke free, taking Ray's face between his
hands.
 
 Ray laughed. "Poetic, Stanley. Very poetic." He slid down a little and
began to suck again at nipples darkened to a deep pink by his earlier
attentions.
 
 A yelp of mingled pain and pleasure, and Kowalski's hands, encouraged him
to travel lower. That seemed like a pretty good idea, so Ray cooperated
willingly. Ignoring Kowalski's groans and outbursts, Ray made his way
slowly down the slim body. He teased at the tender flesh, using feather
light touches to arouse and carefully applied pressure to control the
responses of his volatile lover.
 
 He reached the flushed cock and decided, reluctantly, not to tease any
longer. Kowalski was swearing to God and anyone in earshot that he was
gonna die… he was just gonna fucking die…
 
 "Can it Kowalski, nobody dies of a hard on." But he lowered his head and
took it all in, down to the tangle of sweaty curls that were considerably
darker than the hair on Kowalski's head. There was another strangled cry
and then the sound of hard breathing as Kowalski fought to keep from
thrusting up into his mouth.
 
 Good. After a long pause, Ray lifted his head, sucking all the way to the
tip and then plunged down again. Incoherent sounds of pleasure from above
his head seemed to indicate he was doing it the way Kowalski liked it.
There weren't many men who didn't like this. He caressed the bare belly
affectionately.
 
 "Oh God… dammitall…" Kowalski pushed his head away. He was panting, his
belly heaving, his cock lifting with every breath. Ray waited. "Bedroom.
Now. Get the stuff."
 
 He knew exactly what Kowalski meant, and his balls tightened in response.
Without a word he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled to the bedroom.
 
 *
 
 The orange juice was in a pitcher, ready for the table, and the coffee
was well under way, although judging by the sounds coming from the lounge
neither would be needed in any great hurry. The smaller pitcher was full
of hot water to prepare it for the maple syrup, which was warming on top
of the range. All that was needed now was for the bacon to be grilled and
the pancakes to be cooked. Ben glanced over at Renfield, who was
dithering, uncharacteristically in the kitchen, with a bowl of pancake
batter.
 
 He supposed he should have expected this. When Ray and Ray had told them
about their successful bust, there had been an air about them of something
more than just pleasure at catching a band of criminals. It was what he'd
wanted to happen all along, and now that it had happened he was reacting…
well, rather strangely. He was jealous. Perhaps jealous was too strong a
word… no, he was jealous, though he wasn't sure exactly who he was jealous
of. Could one be jealous of both men at the same time?
 
 It didn't matter. The fact was that he was jealous and he was almost
certain that Renfield knew it too. Renfield wasn't. His first reaction to
the realisation that their lovers were making love on the couch had been
unalloyed delight. A delight that had changed to caution as soon as he
noticed that Ben's response was far less positive. They'd both
concentrated on preparing breakfast then, restricting themselves to the
necessary exchanges of information.
 
 The pancake batter was in danger of being beaten to death. Ben was no
great cook, but even he recognised that. Renfield looked up and met his
eyes. "I think it's ready."
 
 "I don't think they are." It came out a little too sharply and Ben looked
away briefly, towards the lounge. "I'm sorry. I don't know…" his voice
trailed off at the expression on Renfield's face. "That is, I don't
understand why I've reacted like this. I wanted them to… to get on."
 
 Renfield smiled a little. "You feel threatened, Benton. It's only
natural. You love them both, and a part of you is afraid that if they love
each other, they may love you less."
 
 "But that's…" Ben frowned. He hadn't expected Renfield to understand his
tangled emotions when he couldn't make sense of them himself. "I didn't
feel that way when you…"
 
 "That was different." Renfield's smile turned wry. "You never saw me as a
threat. But, of course it doesn't work that way, in any case."
 
 He didn't know what to say to that. It was true that he'd never seen
Renfield as a threat; the very idea of it was ridiculous, but he wasn't
laughing. Nor was Renfield, in fact he was looking almost wistful. Neither
of them was paying any attention to the enthusiastic sounds coming from
the lounge any more.
 
 Renfield glanced down at the bowl of batter and toyed with the edge for a
moment. Then his eyes lifted again. "It never occurred to you that Ray
could love me enough to harm your relationship with him. You were right.
Not because I don't matter, but because Ray could never love you less no
matter how many lovers he had. Just as you or I would never love him
less."
 
 Ben could hear the hurt in Renfield's voice and it gave him pause. How
long had Renfield carried this knowledge, never allowing it to show until
now? He must have realised it almost from the start. But Ben wasn't ready
yet to deal with that. "And Ray Kowalski?"
 
 Renfield smiled. "Ray doesn't love me. We're good friends, and that's
enough. I think you know that"
 
 He did know that. He'd been procrastinating, trying to assimilate the
knowledge Renfield had just handed him. In the last few months he'd begun
to realise that he'd misjudged Renfield, but he hadn't known until a few
minutes ago how badly he'd done so. Or how much Renfield had been aware of
how little he'd thought of the younger man. There weren't many times in
his life that he had that sinking feeling of having failed badly, but he
felt it now.
 
 "I'm sorry. You're right, I didn't…" he searched for a gentler way to
phrase what he had to say, but he owed Renfield the truth. "I didn't
respect you enough to think of you as a threat with Ray. Perhaps I should
have." He tried to smile.
 
 The sandy head shook slowly. "I wouldn't have wanted that, Benton."
 
 "No." Ben looked at the younger man, taking in his withdrawn face, his
downcast eyes. In spite of his unkind behaviour towards Renfield, he had
never been less than completely loyal, or less than willing to help in any
way he could, both professionally and personally. Ben remembered with
painful clarity some of his behaviour towards Renfield, the contempt he
hadn't been able, or thought necessary to hide. Because Renfield had never
reacted to it, Ben had thought he hadn't noticed it. He bowed his head.
"I'm sorry."
 
 There was no answer and when he looked up again, Renfield had turned away
and was toying with the edge of the bowl again. Obviously he thought the
conversation was over, but Ben couldn't bring himself to leave it like
that. He had made the mistake; he had hurt someone who had not deserved to
be hurt. And he admitted to himself that his assumption that Renfield was
unworthy of his love had been wrong. At the moment it wasn't Renfield who
seemed unworthy, but himself.
 
 It took only two steps to reach his side. Ben just had time to see his
startled glance and then he was drawing him into a gentle embrace, still
unsure of what he intended to do, but certain that he had to do something.
From a distance of a few inches they stared at each other. Renfield wore a
startled expression that might have been comical at any other time. Ben
noticed, as he had often before (he prided himself on his skills of
observation, after all), how intensely blue Renfield's eyes were. Now it
was more that a simple observation. He felt himself flushing slightly,
almost embarrassed by his reaction.
 
 Renfield smiled shyly, breaking the silent exchange by lowering his gaze,
and Ben found he was leaning toward him without having made any conscious
decision to do so. Their lips brushed lightly, then Ben pressed closer.
The kiss was sweet with uncertainties and hesitations, like the first kiss
of new lovers, redefining their relationship. Renfield drew back after a
moment, but Ben, committed now, closed his mouth over Renfield's once
more.
 
 They'd kissed before, even in this very kitchen, but never with such
intimacy or openness. It was almost frightening to do so now; a small part
of Ben was telling him that he couldn't possibly do this with Renfield of
all people… another part wanted it; wanted to know just how far this
relationship could go if he were only willing to allow it. Renfield, he
knew, would set no boundaries, would accept as much or as little love as
Ben was prepared to offer him, and return it in as great a measure as Ben
would allow.
 
 Ben raised his hand to touch the flat plane of Renfield's cheek, feeling
the heat surge suddenly against his fingers. Renfield's hand was resting
comfortably in the small of his back, holding him close as they kissed.
The thin, sensitive lips parted before his tongue, accepting his
explorations with only a hint of restraint. Ben suspected he was waiting
for the inevitable rebuff. This time, he swore to himself, it wasn't going
to happen.
 
 Not for the first time, Ben was aware of needing to turn his face upward
to kiss him, a discomforting sensation, since he was used to his lovers
being the same height as himself. But it wasn't difficult to distract
himself from such thoughts as the exchange continued; a slow, sensuous
advance and retreat of exploring tongues, and the soft flutter of warm
breath infiltrating his mouth as Renfield sighed. The outside world seemed
to fade into nothingness.
 
 A low moan brought Ben out of his daze to find that somehow he'd managed
to get a hand inside Renfield's T-shirt. That hand was stroking, over and
over, the soft, prickling hairs on the broad chest with a gentle
insistence. Ben bowed his head a little, enough to kiss the vein throbbing
visibly beneath the skin of Renfield's throat, while his fingers sought a
nipple to tease.
 
 "Ohhh…" Renfield's hand came up to cradle Ben's head, and his fingers
slid deep into his hair. Pressed close together as they were, there was no
hiding his arousal, or Ben's. Their bodies swayed together, rubbing
gently, sensuously, and Renfield's other hand fumbled with the back of
Ben's T-shirt, seeking skin contact in his turn.
 
 They parted long enough to dispose of the T-shirts, dropping them with
uncharacteristic lack of care on the floor then closed together again.
With their hands free to roam, they both set about exploring the other.
They'd been occasional lovers for nearly two years now, but never shared
such intimacy as this. Always, except for that one time, there had been
Ray… either, or lately, both Rays, to make the focus of their lovemaking,
rather than each other. This was unimaginably different.
 
 "Fuuuck! God, Vecchio…" Ray's voice broke their spell and Renfield choked
with laughter. The sounds from the lounge had been getting steadily louder
and seemed to be reaching a crescendo, but then they died away a little.
Obviously it wasn't going to be over for quite a while.
 
 Ben smiled. "Perhaps we should go in the bedroom, Renfield."
 
 Renfield's face lit up like a beacon.
 
 *
 
 It seemed a long time before Vecchio came back through the doorway and
Ray Kowalski was squirming with the urge to take his cock into his hands
and just get on with it. He didn't, because there were some things worth
waiting for; but nobody had ever said patience was one of his strong
points.
 
 Finally, Vecchio strolled across the lounge, his bathrobe hanging open
and framing a darkly flushed erection that swayed with each step. As
enjoyable as the sight was, Ray's impatience intensified. "Get a move on,
will ya?"
 
 Vecchio grinned at him and deposited the lube and a handful of condoms on
the floor beside the couch. "Patience, Stanley." He dropped onto the
couch, straddling Ray's legs.
 
 It ought to annoy him that Vecchio called him by his deeply unloved first
name, but it didn't. Vecchio was the only person to call him that, and
didn't do it very often, so Ray figured he could deal with it. Besides, he
kinda liked the teasing way that Vecchio said it.
 
 He reached up and grabbed the edges of Vecchio's robe, dragging him down
for a long, hungry kiss. When Vecchio showed no sign of trying to escape,
Ray slid the silky cloth off his shoulders and watched in satisfaction as
the robe slithered to the floor. Their bodies pressed together and for the
first time, Ray was aware of the effort Vecchio was making to hold back.
He grinned against the eager mouth; it was about time.
 
 Vecchio pulled back, breathing hard. "What do you want, Stanley?"
 
 "Fuck me." The words came out as a harsh growl, startling both of them.
He reached down between their bodies and stroked the hard shaft. His
fingers curled around it instinctively and started pumping. Now that he
knew exactly what he wanted, Ray relaxed a little. "Yeah. Fuck me."
 
 With a shaken gasp, Vecchio grabbed at Ray's hand, stilling the movement.
"No. Take it easy, willya?"
 
 "Sure thing." Ray leaned up and kissed Vecchio again. "It's okay,
Vecchio. It's gonna be okay."
 
 The lean body above his eased back down onto him and Ray shifted,
wrapping his legs around Vecchio's hips. His body pushed up against
Vecchio's groin and he smiled. "Ya like this?"
 
 Vecchio groaned softly, his eyes going hazy. "Not bad…" Ray rubbed
against him slowly and he moaned. "All right… all right, it's great."
 
 The shorn head drooped against his shoulder and Ray felt the brush of
warm lips against his throat. Vecchio's hips moved in a sensuous rhythm
against his own as he ran his hands down the long curve of the slim back.
They were both shaking with arousal and it took a huge effort for Ray to
push his lover away. 
 
 "Come on, Ray…" he reached down and found a foil wrapped condom with his
trembling fingers. "Let's get on with it."
 
 The green eyes glazed over slightly as Ray rolled the condom over
Vecchio's cock. The hard length thrust impatiently into his hands and his
groin throbbed in involuntary response. "Oh fuck…" he spread the slick gel
hurriedly over the condom and used his shaky grip to pull Vecchio down
between his legs.
 
 A shaky laugh sent a gust of hot breath across his lips. "Geez, Kowalski…
slow down."
 
 "Fuck that." Ray shifted his grip to Vecchio's butt, arching up to thrust
himself onto his cock. Their bodies bumped together awkwardly, both of
them too eager to take care. "Shit. Hang on."
 
 With a cooperative effort they managed it, and Ray's head dropped back
against the couch with a groan. Nothing ever beat the incredible intimacy
of fucking, and it was different with each of his lovers. Even though his
body wanted to throw itself mindlessly against Vecchio's to seek
satisfaction at any cost, Ray forced himself to remain still. He needed
time to deal with the emotions roused by the feeling of Vecchio's cock
inside him.
 
 "Ray…" Vecchio's voice was almost inaudible and his body shook
helplessly. He moved his hips slowly, sliding his cock deeper into Ray's
body.
 
 Ray sighed. "Oh yeeaaaah…" the pounding of his heart was matched by his
lover's. Neither of them could hold on much longer and as the pressure
grew Ray gave way before it, taking Vecchio with him.
 
 The furious, almost desperate thrusts rocked the whole couch. Ray dug his
fingers into Vecchio's shoulders, tightened his legs around his hips, and
gave back as good as he got. It was an insane scramble after pleasure that
set his heart pounding so hard he could hardly hear his own cries, or
Vecchio's harsh sobs.
 
 Everything about Vecchio was so different from Fraser and Renny… the
narrow hips, the thick tangle of hair at Vecchio's chest and groin that
tickled his skin, the wiry arms that clutched him so fiercely. More than
that, the combination of pride, vulnerability and hard won strength made
Vecchio's surrender all the more precious to him. How could he resist all
that, wrapped as it was in the sensual, passionate packaging that was Ray
Vecchio?
 
 And, to put it simply, Vecchio was just plain hot. Ray grinned to himself
remembering their first few meetings and the sparks that had flown between
them, more aggressive than amorous, but the seeds had been there, even
though he'd refused to admit it at the time.
 
 A long shudder ran through him and through Vecchio, warning them both
that their bodies were reaching breaking point. Even the lube could no
longer ease the delicious friction of Vecchio's fierce thrusts. They were
growing wilder and less coordinated with each passing second.
 
 It was difficult to focus his mind enough to breathe, let alone speak,
but somehow he managed it. "Vecchio… it's okay…" he stroked the sweaty
nape of his lover's neck. "Trust me. Just let go, all right?"
 
 There was no answer, but the shudders grew stronger. Ray held on, waiting
for the inevitable, his body so incredibly wired that he felt like he
might explode. It occurred to him then that this might be what Vecchio
needed… for him to lead the way. Trusting his own judgement in situations
like this didn't come naturally to Ray, but something had to give and it
might as well be him.
 
 That decision was all it took. Heat exploded in his groin and sent fiery
tendrils into his brain. He was only dimly aware of Vecchio's cry and the
savage thrusts that heralded his lover's climax. Together they rode out
the storm, bodies sliding slickly together, lubricated by their own sweat.
Ray was barely aware of the small extra heat of his ejaculation or the
final savage tremors that shook Vecchio's body. 
 
 The silence that followed was almost as devastating as the fury of their
lovemaking had been. Ray's eyes were blinded by tears and sweat, his
throat ached and his body was worn out. Vecchio lay like a dead weight on
top of him with only the hammering of his heart and the harsh labouring of
his lungs to show he was still alive. He stroked his fingers across the
wet skin of Vecchio's shoulder and moaned his exhaustion.
 
 "Kowalski?" Vecchio's voice was faint.
 
 It took a huge effort to dredge up any kind of response. "Yeah?"
 
 "You…" Vecchio gasped and shook with weak laughter. "You wanna do this
again some time?"
 
 *
 
 Kissing Benton Fraser always felt to him a little like he was kissing
God. It would no doubt shock many people; his adoptive parents in
particular would think it heretical, without a doubt, but Renny had long
ago accepted his hero worship of his superior officer and learned to live
with it. Falling in love with not one, but both of Benton's lovers hadn't
helped much. No more than an intimate acquaintance with the object of his
adoration had changed a thing. He was now exceedingly familiar with
Benton's very human failings, pride probably being the worst, but that had
made not the slightest difference either. So he melted into the warm and
welcoming embrace and kissed his god with sensuous abandon.
 
 For a long while that was all they did, lying naked and entwined on the
bed they usually shared with their lovers, with a kind of innocent
intimacy. He suspected that Benton was holding back, uncertain of how he
would react to more overtly sexual behaviour. It would be difficult, and
extremely embarrassing, for Renny to tell him that he was all right now,
and that Benton didn't need to worry about him. Becoming tongue-tied, as
he undoubtedly would, would not improve the situation at all, so he could
just demonstrate the fact and then they could both take things from there.
 
 He gently disengaged himself from the kiss and lowered his head to suck
at one of Benton's pale nipples. He'd had plenty of opportunity, hovering
on the sidelines, to observe. He knew, for instance, that Benton loved to
have his nipples sucked almost as much as he loved to suck… well, just
about anything. Fingers, nipples, cocks. Anything he could fit in his
mouth. A definite oral fixation, there. No doubt Benton would take great
pleasure in indulging it on Renny's body at a later stage. For now, he
simply squirmed with pleasure under Renny's determined assault on his
senses.
 
 Making love with Benton, if you could even call it that, in the kitchen
all those months ago had never felt like this. Then, he had been aware of
Benton's distance from him even as they touched each other so intimately.
Today the barriers had come down, just a little, but enough that for the
first time since he'd met, and made a disastrous first impression on his
new colleague, Renny allowed himself to hope that there might be some kind
of a chance for him.
 
 As he made his way down the alabaster pale body, pausing every so often
when he found a particularly sensitive spot, Renny twisted on the bed so
that by the time he reached Benton's cock, he had completely reversed his
position. He buried his face against soft sweaty curls of pubic hair and
hoped that Benton would take the hint.
 
 A hesitant touch on his cock sent a tiny shiver of pleasure through him
and Renny moaned, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than was really
necessary, but he wanted to be sure that the message was received loud and
clear. It was. His cock was grasped more firmly and stroked from heavy
somnolence to hard arousal. It took an amazingly short amount of time.
Renny decided to stop worrying about how Benton was going to behave and
simply enjoy himself. In spite of Benton's apparent volte-face, he wasn't
yet prepared to count on anything past this one opportunity.
 
 The thick pale cock stirred invitingly against his cheek as he kissed the
silky skin of Benton's thighs and belly. He'd admired the beauty of it
from the first time he'd seen it, when Ray had brought his disapproving
lover to share this very bed with them. His fingers traced the length of
it from base to tip, teasing at the slightly retracted foreskin and the
flushed circle of moist cockhead peeking from beneath it. It really was
rather delightful.
 
 He closed his fist around the hardening shaft and pumped experimentally.
The skin was looser than on a circumcised cock and moved more freely,
retracting the foreskin even further as he stroked down and releasing it
on the up strokes. After a couple of times, Renny leaned forward to lick
away the moisture forming in the slit with a delicate brush of his tongue.
 
 A gasp and a small shudder indicated Benton's approval and Renny gave in
to his own brand of oral fixation, which mostly centred around cocks. He
took the whole length of it into his mouth, relaxing his throat muscles
instinctively to accommodate it and began to suck in a strong, pulsing
rhythm. His own cock was being subjected to similar treatment, and for a
while there was no sound in the room apart from contented sucking noises
and the occasional muffled moan.
 
 However Renny had some time ago already decided on what he should do if
he ever got this chance and, as much as he enjoyed oral sex, this wasn't
the way he wanted it to end. Gradually he withdrew, taking less and less
of the thick cock into his mouth with each downward plunge. Benton, too,
was easing back, taking his cue from Renny. With a quick twist Renny knelt
between Benton's parted legs and stared into sensuous, heavy lidded slate
blue eyes.
 
 There could be no doubt what he was silently offering and Renny preferred
to leave it unspoken. Benton smiled lazily, so unlike his cool calm
Mountie persona that it was difficult to reconcile the two. But all that
mattered right now was the implicit acceptance in that sensual gaze. Renny
reached for the drawer and the condoms it contained.
 
 The carton was empty. For a moment Renny came close to panic. Of course
it wasn't strictly necessary for him to penetrate Benton, or he could
withdraw before ejaculating, but either option would ruin the scenario he
had so lovingly built up over the years. Then he realised that Ray, no
doubt in some haste, had scattered the small foil packets all over the
drawer. He hastily picked a couple of them out and then hunted for the
lube. Surely there was a spare tube of it somewhere. But this time his
luck ran out.
 
 "Renfield? What's the matter?" Benton lifted himself onto one elbow.
 
 He sighed dejectedly. "I'm afraid here's no lubricant. Ray must have
taken it."
 
 There was a brief pause as they considered the situation. Not for
anything would Renny be willing to interrupt the two of them. He'd seen
the changes in them this last week and knew that his own behaviour had
prevented them from consummating their new relationship. He would not
compound that now, not even to make his own dreams come true.
 
 "I'm sure we can manage without." A gentle touch in his arm drew his
attention away from the drawer. "The condoms are the lubricated variety,
aren't they?"
 
 "Yes, but…"
 
 Benton pulled him down. "Then don't worry about it."
 
 He kissed Benton again, slowly and with great care, then sat up. He
rolled the condom over his cock with steady fingers while Benton watched.
He was good at making love. All his lovers had told him so, and shown by
their pleasure that it was true, not just kind words. It gave him a
confidence in the bedroom that he seldom felt anywhere else. Now, of all
times, he needed that confidence as Benton drew his legs up
accommodatingly and he began a gentle investigation of the tight ring of
muscle.
 
 Benton was breathing in shallow panting gasps, using the technique to
relax his whole body and Renny positioned the tip of his cock carefully
against his anus, pressing into him. It took a while. Benton's cock
deflated slightly as the head of Renny's cock finally slipped inside the
firm grip of his body. He stroked the heavy cock tenderly, coaxing it
slowly back to fullness. Benton was absolutely still, his eyes closed, his
chest barely stirring.
 
 Perhaps this was simply too uncomfortable for him. "Do you want me to
stop, Benton?"
 
 A tiny frown appeared between Benton's eyebrows and a bead of sweat
trickled slowly down one cheek. "No. Don't stop." His tongue darted out to
caress his lower lip. His eyes opened a fraction. "Please."
 
 At last Renny had managed to restore Benton's erection to its full glory.
He stared down at the gleaming wet cockhead, almost completely exposed
now, and calculated… he thought he could do it. He hunched his back,
almost doubling over and managed to stroke his tongue over its moist
surface, ignoring a shaken gasp from his lover. Pleased with himself and
with Benton's reaction, he swirled his tongue over the sensitive cockhead
and sucked gently. This time Benton's hips bucked, almost hard enough to
dislodge him completely. Renny straightened, stroking the quivering
muscles of Benton's belly until the other man settled.
 
 It was time to stop playing, Renny decided. He pressed deeper into
Benton's body, more easily now, until his cock was completely sheathed in
hot flesh. He withdrew a little then slid back again in slow, gentle
thrusts, until he was satisfied that he wasn't going to cause any pain,
then he lowered himself over his lover, covering him with his body.
 
 Benton smiled, touching his face with trembling fingertips. Being a good
two inches taller than Benton made it easy for them to kiss, and for long,
ecstatic minutes that was all they needed to do, while their hips moved in
slow harmony. But as their breathing grew more and more ragged, and their
bodies' demands escalated, Renny began to thrust deeper, harder, and
intimacy gave way to heart pounding lust.
 
 Nothing mattered now to him, except the satisfaction of that primitive
instinct to climax. Their bodies strained towards that goal, slick with
sweat and the oozing pre-cum from Benton's cock, trapped between their
bodies.
 
 "…Renfield. Renny, stop." Benton's strained voice broke into his
consciousness at last and he froze. What had he done? He lifted his head
and stared into Benton's face, fearing what he might see there.
 
 But Benton was smiling shakily. "It's all right. I'd just like to…"
 
 He was already withdrawing. Instead of stopping him, Benton simply slid
out from under him and knelt upright, facing the wall, his hands braced
against the headboard. He looked back over his shoulder at Renny with an
open invitation in his eyes. With a shuddering sigh of relief, Renny knelt
behind him and entered him again, wrapping one arm around his waist and
stretching out the other to grasp the headboard.
 
 Damp curls clung to the back of Benton's neck. Renny buried his face
against it, breathing in the scent of his sweat and soap from his morning
wash. His hips took up their interrupted rhythm, starting slowly and
building to an even greater level of urgency than before. His hand slid
down Benton's belly and took his cock in a firm hold. Benton made an
inarticulate sound deep in his chest and thrust furiously into his grasp.
 
 This was even better than he could have imagined. Renny gave himself up
to the demands of his body, aware of nothing but the slippery feel of
Benton's skin against his, Benton's cock sliding easily through the circle
of his fingers. His cock pulsed, in warning at first and then purposefully
as he climaxed. It was echoed in Benton's cock and in the sudden fierce
clutch of muscles around Renny's cock, drawing still more convulsive
tremors from him. He bit his lip and rode it out in silence, struggling
just to breathe while Benton cried out hoarsely.
 
 They were still upright. Renny recognised that fact with some inward
surprise. He was leaning limply against Benton's back, too exhausted to
move, except for his hand, still stroking Benton's rapidly softening cock.
But he would have to move soon, as his cock softened inside Benton's body.
He took a deep breath and managed to straighten up. They separated easily
and he slid the condom off his cock and tied it off neatly, tossing it
into the small trashcan they kept beside the bed.
 
 Benton was lying sprawled on his back, watching him. Renny dropped down
next to him, still breathless, and was taken into a gentle embrace. Words
seemed to be particularly pointless at this stage; they exchanged a long,
satisfied kiss and lay in contented silence.
 
 Renny's body was heavy with exhaustion; enough so that he was drifting on
the verge of sleep when he felt a light caress on his hair. With an effort
he levered his eyes open and looked into Benton's face. He got a rather
strange look in response and wondered, with a sinking sensation, what he'd
done to cause it.
 
 Benton smiled at him, easing his worst fears. "That was wonderful,
Renfield. Thank you."
 
 "Oh…" he blushed painfully. "No. Thank you." How pathetically inadequate…
he watched as Benton's lips parted and wondered miserably if they were
going to end up thanking each other half a dozen times each before
embarrassment forced them to stop.
 
 A gleam of humour in Benton's eyes made Renny realise that he was
probably thinking the same thing. He giggled with nervous reaction and
then wished he hadn't. Benton's smile broadened and they kissed again.
When the kiss ended he settled with his head on Benton's shoulder,
instinctively choosing his favourite position before his befuddled mind
had a chance to realise that Benton might not like such an assumption of
intimacy. He waited for some kind of a sign, but his lover remained
relaxed, and even began stroking his hair again.
 
 "Renfield…" Benton hesitated. "May I call you Renny?"
 
 His heart began to beat faster. "Oh yes. Of course. Ben." He tried the
name cautiously. It felt rather wonderful to say it.
 
 The fingers stroking his hair stilled for a moment then resumed their
movement. "I'm sorry I've hurt you in the past. I was wrong about you. I
realise that now."
 
 "Oh, but…" he wanted to deny it, but there was no point. Benton, Ben… had
hurt him and they both knew it. "It wasn't all your fault. Really. I
wanted to impress you so much, and it just made me look stupid, but I
couldn't help myself." He slid his arm around Ben's waist and smiled just
to think he could call him that even in his thoughts. "We can forget about
that now, can't we?"
 
 A hand slid over his arm, caressingly. "Yes. Of course we can. It'll be a
new beginning for us. For all of us."
 
 "Mmm." He sighed and closed his eyes as the gentle stroking continued,
surrendering at last to the drowsiness that was claiming him.
 
 *
 
 Kowalski was pulling on his shorts. It was a sight that Ray viewed with
mingled pleasure and regret. Pleasure because the sight of that pale
scrawny ass bending toward him was strangely attractive. Regret because
the glimpse of cock between his legs was a reminder of what was being
covered up. He sighed and pulled his robe firmly around his body.
 
 He wondered how late it was. There was no sound no from the kitchen,
although the scent of coffee still drifted in the air. Ray went to check
it out. 
 
 The kitchen was deserted. There was a pitcher of orange juice on the
counter and a bowl of what looked like batter. Ray tasted it. Batter. The
coffee was sitting on its hotplate steaming gently and he poured himself a
cup. It looked like the two Mounties had found something else to do. Ray
grinned.
 
 Kowalski came stumbling into the kitchen yawning and rubbing his already
messy hair. Its state hadn't been improved by their gymnastics. "Where are
they?"
 
 "Take a wild guess Kowalski." Ray gestured towards the pot. "Coffee?"
 
 "Yeah, sure." Kowalski brightened considerably. He sipped at the brew,
which was on the bitter side from sitting in the pot too long. It seemed
to kick start his brain and he straightened up a little. "Maybe I should
go get them. I'm hungry."
 
 "You do that. I'll get things started." Ray was already rummaging in the
fridge. He pulled out a pack of bacon and thought about frying some eggs.
Maybe later… there was nothing worse than overcooked eggs. He carried the
bacon over to the griller and turned it on.
 
 By the time the bacon was sizzling Dief was sitting hopefully at his feet
and Kowalski still hadn't returned. Ray considered his options. He should
have known better than to send that randy bastard into a bedroom. With a
sigh he switched off the grill and dropped the bacon into Dief's bowl.
"Now you just wait for that to cool down, okay?"
 
 Dief stared up at him scornfully. Ray took a last swig of the cooling
coffee and strolled towards the bedroom. It was already after ten, looked
like they'd be having breakfast really late today.
 
 The End