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| Part 2 |
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The welcome home Ray received from his extraordinarily loud family and one low-flying wolf made him think twice about whether he should have left the peace and security of the cabin, and he backed into Ben in alarm. “You knew it would be like this,” he heard Ben say under the racket of the Vecchios. “I’d forgotten! How could I have forgotten! Does your mind go first?” It was a joke, Ben knew it was a joke, but it stung like hell and Ray saw that on his face, instantly chastising himself and giving Ben the ‘sorry’ smile. Ben ‘okay’ smiled back and they turned to face the fray, certainly better together than they were separate. If home was bad, with people pussy-footing around like Ray was crawling toward his open grave, then work was enough to make Ray throw up his hands in despair. “I don’t know what’s worse,” he complained to Ben when they were ensconced in the stationary closet. “The pity of the people who know the truth, or the sideways looks of people who are catching the rumours.” “I’m sure things will get back to usual if you wait a while.” “No, they won’t. And you know why? Because Welsh won’t put me on the street. I’m stuck behind a desk with less of a job than the guy who fills the sandwich machine!” “Perhaps it’s a temporary measure.” “I don’t understand it. I get the worse piece of crap happening to me – nothing I can do about it – and I’m punished for it.” “I doubt that’s true. Lieutenant Welsh may feel that your frame of mind is particularly…” “What? I’m cracking up now?” “No, Ray.” “Well, support me here. Some mindless bias would be appreciated.” “Absolutely, Ray.” “I shouldn’t have come back. How many months have I got of this until that damned test and then I’m pushed out of the force completely?” “I don’t think that’s possible.” “Benny!” “I’m sorry, Ray, but I can’t agree when I think you’re wrong, especially when any agreement on my part will add to the feeling of injustice you’re already suffering from.” “And I’m paranoid.” “I didn’t say that.” “No, I did.” Ray drew in a long calming breath and sat heavily on a box of Xerox paper. “If I had to go out I wouldn’t trust them to back me up.” “Define ‘them’.” “The guys on the street. The ones who pass through here looking at me as if I’m sprouting horns.” On impulse Ben reached out to Ray, running his hand over the cop’s scalp. He felt Ray lean into the touch and marvelled at how they’d changed in a few short weeks: he wouldn’t have been so bold before Ray’s abduction and Ray would never have encouraged such familiarity. Now they gravitated together as if the only support they could count on or needed was from one another. “Mmm…no horns.” Ben groped the finely shaped head. “No, hang on, what’s this…” Ray snickered and ducked away. “Now you develop a sense of humour.” “Let’s get out of here, Ray.” “Boy, Benny, don’t let any of the guys around here catch you saying you’re ready to come out of the closet.” “I would appreciate some assistance at the Consulate during Inspector Thatcher’s absence.” “Yeah, sure, I can be purely decorative there instead of here. I’ll just run it past Welsh.” While Ben waited for Ray he studied the notice boards, acknowledged various officers, and grew increasingly aware of what Ray had been talking about, until he realised with a start that he was under a similar scrutiny. Damned by association, he supposed. Or was it more than that? He wasn’t naïve enough to think that eyebrows had never been raised over his friendship with Ray – they were, quite simply, an unlikely partnership – and it made sense that people of a certain mentality, particularly those with certain prejudices, might presume… Oh dear. Ray joined him at that moment, smiling brightly, looking forward to escaping the Station House; he put a genial hand on Ben’s shoulder, left it there a little too long for some. Ignoring the feeling of being studied like a laboratory specimen, Ben returned the smile and they headed for the exit where the newly repaired Riv awaited them.
Ray entered the Consulate like he owned it, taking a good look around under Ben’s watchful gaze and finally installing himself in Ben’s office. “So, what is there to do?” “I thought you were purely decorative, Ray.” “That’s like saying you’re short and Chinese. C’mon, gimme a job.” “In all honesty, inviting you here was a ploy to remove you from the pressures of your own workplace.” “Shock, horror! The Mountie pulls a fast one!” “Ray…you seem unnaturally cheerful.” “You complaining?” “No. It’s just that under the circumstances…” “You think I’m cracking up too,” Ray laughed, failing to hide the desperate edge beneath the humour and falling into the trademark pacing. “Well…you’d be just about right, you observant little Mountie. How long’s it been? Best part of a week, right? And I’ve been scrutinised for every second of it. They’re all waiting for me to lose it so they can shake their heads and do the knowing looks and pay out to whoever bet I’d take precisely this long to freak out.” “Perhaps you’re misinterpreting their concern.” “I am not fucking misinterpreting anything,” Ray screeched, wrapping his arms around his head. “And have you seen the way some of them look at you? At us?” He groaned and sank into a convenient chair. “God, Benny, we shouldn’t have come back. We shouldn’t have come back.” Ben took a breath to respond, stalled, tried again. “I don’t know what to say.” “Things finally got that bad, huh?” “Everything I say seems to make you feel worse.” “No, Benny. You’re the only sanity in my life right now.” Ben crouched at Ray’s side, laying a comforting hand on his wrist. “We could be back at the cabin by morning.” “More rumours,” Ray said weakly. “I don’t want you caught up in this.” “I don’t care, Ray,” Ben responded vehemently. “What people think, what they say. I know where my priorities lie.” Now Ray looked at Ben,
such defeat in his expression that Ben knew the here and now decisions were
purely up to him. Within the hour he had
contacted Welsh and secured Ray more leave, made arrangements to cover his own
work, and driven – yes, driven – the Riv to his own apartment then to the
Vecchio house, collecting belongings and informing anyone who should be
informed of their intention to head back to … Weeks passed, a combination of silent calm, brooding rage, screaming fury, and bouts of irrational mirth at intervals when the tension broke. Ray was a no-go zone of wildly swinging moods and emotions and Ben was at a total loss as to what to say or do. He had never felt so useless – and that included the time spent waiting without doing after Ray was abducted. Christmas came and went without an acknowledgement; Ray loved the Vecchio clan Christmas, and it was an indication of his preoccupation that the holiday and associated collection of family traditions didn’t even occur to him, as opposed to being deliberately ignored. After all, there was little to celebrate. On the fourth Tuesday at the cabin Ben woke to a new feeling: something had changed and he could sense it, like the first day of a thaw after a spell of particularly harsh weather. For the first time since they had arrived Ray was not hovering, waiting for him to rise. A good sign, providing Ray had not slipped out with Ben’s rifle to put a swift end to his misery. Ben shuddered and shook off the frankly unbelievable thought, but rose and dressed quickly, leaving the cabin and scanning around for his friend. It was easy to follow Ray’s meandering tracks and Ben eventually found him perched on a fallen tree overlooking a favourite vista. He seemed at peace and Ben was loathe to disturb him, but he couldn’t just walk away, it wasn’t in him, not after the past months. “Ray?” “Hey, Benny.” “How are you, Ray?” “Good. I’m good.” “You seem…” “Good.” “Yes.” Ray brushed the snow from the area next to him and Ben took it as an invitation, sitting as close as he thought acceptable bearing in mind Ray’s excessively volatile nature recently. Without so much as a glance Ray closed the gap, leant against him. “You’re always warm, I’m always cold.” Ben instinctively put a protective arm around Ray, rubbing enthusiastically. “You shouldn’t sit around for too long out here.” “Circulation drops, I keel over, freeze to death; yeah, I know, you’ve only told me three hundred times a day.” “Have you eaten?” “No, I was waiting for you.” “Come back and I’ll cook breakfast.” “No. I’ll cook breakfast.” “Fed up with oatmeal?” “Absolutely. We’re having bacon and eggs and pancakes and a whole loaf of toast and whatever else doesn’t move fast enough to get away.” “The last time…” “We’re not going back, Benny. Last time I thought I was ready, this time I know I’m not.” Ray smiled at Ben, an easy smile that didn’t automatically make Ben think that something was about to break. “It’s okay. I’m good.” The remainder of the day was as relaxed as that early conversation. Ray cooked and cooked; they ate and ate. Later they took the hired four-wheel drive to the store and stocked up for another few weeks, Ray buying a couple of bottles of brandy – something Ben had been too wary of during this stay because of Ray’s erratic emotional state. In the last hours before sundown they took another walk, straying further from the cabin than usual, barely talking, enjoying the tranquillity and solitude. They strolled, shoulder to shoulder, Ben unconsciously directing them until they emerged from the trees to the rear of their temporary home. After dinner Ray settled on the couch with bottle and glass while Ben washed the crockery and utensils, tidying the tiny kitchen area. Ben stopped what he was doing at the sound of the humming, turning and leaning against the counter as he studied Ray, glad to see the boneless posture he had assumed as he sank into the well-worn cushions. As Ray’s concentration slipped he lost his place in the song, restarted in the wrong place, stopped. Ben crossed to the rear of the couch, leaning over him and singing softly. “All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey. I’ve been for a walk, on a winter’s day. I’d be safe and warm…” Ray’s giggles caught up with him and he gave up trying to sing and laugh at the same time. “God, why that song?” Ray demanded when he was able to talk. “Of all the great songs I know the words to, why pick that song? Obviously some deep-seated need to make a total jackass of myself.” “Maybe I chose it.” “Good, let’s blame you. At least you had the excuse of being temporarily insane.” Ben fetched a glass from the kitchen and moved to join Ray, at the last moment sitting in the chair as opposed to the far end of the couch, curious as to what Ray would do. For a while he did nothing but then, as the several drinks he’d had took effect he looked from Ben to the couch, Ben to the couch, Ben to the couch, using a big-eyed Italian look with guilt-production powers that Dief would have been proud of. Ben relocated. Ray’s smug expression gradually gave way to one reflecting serious thought. “I want that you should have the Riv.” “What!” “I’ll die, Frannie will wreck the Riv, I’ll turn in my grave for eternity. You have to take the Riv.” “You’re not going to die, Ray.” “Aw, come on, Benny…” “Even if you’re…if you’ve got…I mean… New drug combinations can keep the full-blown illness at bay for years.” “Thank God I’m not the only one struggling here.” “You’re not alone in any respect, Ray. It’s important that you remember that.” Ray finished another drink, topped up; Ben declined the offer. “Could you live here indefinitely, Benny?” “Here? Precisely here, or “In this cabin here.” “Yes. I’ve always hoped to have the chance to do exactly that.” His brow creased into a frown. “Not that it would be as easy now as it would have once.” “Because?” “Well…it would be hard to
leave…” How could he say this without
sounding too clingy? “I have made
friends in “Many?” “You can stop fishing, Ray. I would find it hard to leave you. In fact, it will be impossible if you are ill.” “But I could come here.” “You, here, permanently?” “Sure.” “But you hate the cold.” “I’m adapting, I’m adapting,” Ray protested. “But, your family.” “I can’t live with their pity. You saw the way they were with me.” “They need a chance…” “And I need a bigger one. Look, you’ll get a transfer back here, I’ll get early retirement—” Ray stopped short. “I’m assuming too much here.” “No. No, you’re not.” “Even if I stay in “You mean…” “You know what I mean.” “You?” Ray couldn’t meet his eyes. “Us.” “Ah. This pertains to what you said several weeks ago about the manner in which some of your work colleagues ‘look’ at us.” “Look at us, as in…” “As in look at us, yes, I got that.” Ben paused, thought. “Before all this happened, did they already assume that you and I…” “I don’t know. But they don’t have friends like you and me are friends so… I don’t know. They don’t understand.” Now it was Ray’s turn to pause and think. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to, you know, back off.” There was the big-eyed Italian look again. “You want to back off?” “I’m shocked you feel you have to ask that,” Ben retorted indignantly. “And if anyone chooses to assume that about us I for one refuse to be ashamed of the association they have contrived.” “Hey, Benny, I’m half a bottle up on you here. Once more in English.” “I don’t care if they think we’re…well…” Ray stared, blinked hard. “You’re not angry about that?” “No.” “What, it doesn’t bother you?” “No.” “At all?” “It bothers me that it bothers you.” Ray couldn’t fight back a huge grin. “Universally acknowledged gorgeous SuperMountie who every woman wants isn’t bothered about being associated in that way with this total screw-up?” “I don’t know which part of that massively inaccurate statement to address first.” “Then leave it all alone and let me wallow in amazement.” “In fact, it could have its advantages. Do you think Francesca would believe it?” Ray threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Benton Fraser, you are a piece of work!” “There are times, Ray, when I swear I would publicly marry you to stop her advances.” “She’d never speak to me again.” “It doesn’t matter,” Ben grinned, “we’ll be living here.” Ray laughed again but the laughter was short lived; his features contorted with pain and he turned away from Ben. Tears squeezed from the screwed up eyes. Ben was at his side in seconds. “Ray?” “Morose drunk,” Ray whispered hoarsely, attempting to wave Ben away. “It’s not that, I’ve seen that. Tell me, Ray, talk to me.” His voice dropped to softly persuasive and he slipped an arm around Ray’s shoulders, offering comfort and hoping he wouldn’t be rejected. Ray shrugged away from him, sitting perched on the edge of the cushion, face in hands. Ben waited patiently as Ray slowly recovered, knowing that any encouragement to talk from him would only succeed in closing Ray down totally. “You’re too good,” Ray whispered after the best part of an hour had passed. “You deserve a little honesty.” “You don’t need to…” “Yes, I do,” Ray snapped. “Stop trying to protect me. You have to stop it.” Ben nodded and moved back to his end of the couch. “I’m listening.” “It’s…it’s too close. To the truth. And I know you’re joking but it makes me… I’m sorry, Benny.” Ben fought the urge to return to Ray: he was no longer used to coping with his friend’s pain at a distance, even if it was only a few feet. He was accustomed to being at his side. That was his place and he knew it. If only he had the right words to get himself back there. “You’ve done nothing to apologise for, Ray.” “Yeah?” Ray’s voice was stronger, tinged with anger, but Ben knew it wasn’t directed at him. Then Ray was on his feet; the familiar pacing. “Shall I tell you something that I should’ve been honest about a long, long time ago? Huh? When I turned around in that holding cell and saw the idiot asking for Detective Armani I thought all my wet dreams had come true. The reason I was so off-hand with you was because I thought every gaydar in the precinct was going off.” Ray paused, waiting for the backlash. Nothing. “I used to get to the Consulate early so I could just sit in the Riv and look at you. It was the only time I could stare and stare and you weren’t in a position to fix the Mountie’s all-seeing eye on me. I’d fantasise about what I’d like us to do when we got to your apartment. Sometimes I still do.” Pause. Backlash? Nothing. “It would be easier if you got up and punched me out, Benny.” “Now it makes sense,” Ben said quietly, remembering. “What?” Ray’s voice reflected his bewilderment at the lack of reaction. “You said, ‘My whole life I’ve played their games’. Played at…” “Being what’s expected of me, being straight, fitting in, that’s right. There were times I thought I could do it; shit and damnation, I was doing it, but… Since I’ve known you it’s been so fucking difficult. I’m sorry, Benny, I’m so sorry.” “I’m not angry, Ray, I don’t want you to be sorry.” “You really know how to make a guy feel worse.” “It wasn’t my intention.” “Stop being so fucking nice!” “I’m not about to start ranting just to make you feel better.” “I suppose you want to think about it,” Ray taunted sarcastically. “Maybe I do. And that tone won’t work with me, I know you too well.” Ben’s words wiped out Ray’s bluster and the energy seeped from him. He leant on the back of the couch and stared at the curve of Ben’s neck; he could look but he couldn’t touch any more, not in passing, not out of legitimately harmless affection. Ben glanced toward him and Ray looked guiltily away, switching his attention to the brandy that sat on the floor in front of the couch. “I shouldn’t have opened that bottle. Certainly let the genie-of-the-stupid out.” Ben smiled and Ray felt guiltier still. “I’m tired. Gonna try to get some sleep.” Ray took two steps toward the bed, stopped, spoke without turning back. “You still trust me though? You know I wouldn’t try anything.” “I trust you, Ray. It would never have occurred to me not to. Whatever the circumstances.” “You’re too good.” “In the scheme of things, Ray…” “Yeah, I know what you’re saying: life’s too short.” He gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Hell, maybe literally.” Ben listened to the familiar sounds of Ray getting into bed, settling – trying to settle – and was aware that Ray was having an understandably hard time getting to sleep. He respected Ray’s decision to make a tactical withdrawal but wished he could ask any of the dozen questions buzzing around in his head. Ray’s admission hadn’t shocked or appalled him, barely surprised him so far as Ray’s inclinations went: Ben rarely took anything on face value, including people’s personal proclivities. What Ray had expected – wanted – shook him far more than the revelation: if he had leapt up, outraged, and pummelled Ray to a pulp, his friend would have let him without defending himself, he was sure of that and didn’t like it one little bit. Ray must know he would never… “Do you think I’m homophobic?” was out aloud before Ben could stop it. “No,” Ray sighed, still very awake. “But there’s a difference between…between…oh, damn, I know what I want to say, I just don’t know how.” “Between the general and the personal?” “That does.” Fair enough; Ben could see what he was saying, just didn’t like or agree with it when it came to him. He spent a few minutes trying to remember any occasion or remark that would cause Ray to think of him in those bigoted terms; he couldn’t, quite understandably, because that attitude wasn’t a part of his make-up. Ben knew he was skirting around the central point of Ray’s outburst: that his friend and partner was sexually attracted to him. Okay, he’d thought the words, he’d done that. Ray wanted him. Good grief, those words felt pretty strange together, after all, this was Ray. Ben had never understood why Ray was so unlucky with women because he thought his friend was extraordinarily special. Too special to want him. The part of his ego that hadn’t been humiliated into submission by the amount of people who wanted him because of the way he looked in Mountie mode but weren’t interested in him as a person fought back. Fairly unsuccessfully. He wasn’t what he’d heard described as ‘a catch’, he knew that. Boring was closer to the truth. Oh, God, it was just physical attraction and that hurt. But then again, they were friends – best friends – and Ray liked him well enough to have just spent the past couple of months inching closer to him, emotionally as well as physically. Or was he fooling himself? “It isn’t just lust, is it?” Did his tone of voice have to sound quite so pathetic? “God, no. Maybe at first.” “Well, you didn’t know me at first,” Ben helped Ray along, sounding, to his own ears, ever more needy. “It would have been easier if it had stayed that way.” “Or perhaps not.” “Perhaps not.” The room fell silent again. Ben tried to push the emotional aside – if it wasn’t just lust that meant…oh dear…he couldn’t cope with that for the moment – and consider the physical. Yes, the physical. He swallowed hard and wondered how many miles that particular swallow had been audible for. It wasn’t that it was Ray, it was purely that he didn’t dwell on sexual matters – those kinds of relationships were invariably disastrous for him to either a lesser or greater degree – and as far as he was concerned, gender had never made the slightest difference. And if he screwed it up with Ray he’d be losing more than he’d ever lost before. He couldn’t go there. He couldn’t. But now the subject was uppermost in his mind he had to admit he’d always admired Ray; the wiry strength, the admirable features, he certainly wouldn’t be averse to sweeping his hands over that sensual crew cut again: how would that feel during a kiss? Don’t go there! Shifting irritably Ben tried to banish the thought, tried to get back to the safety of dead from the neck down. … Ray knew he was dreaming. He recognised the dream and knew his part in it. What he’d never found was a way out before he ended up freaking out and turning the bed into a tip. This was so not what he needed right now. ‘Oh, yeah, here it comes,’ the Ray who was awake in his dream although he knew he was dreaming being awake thought. ‘Here’s Benny, here’s my Benny, and here I go again.’ And Ray saw himself reaching into Dream Benny and grasping the bullet that was still lodged in him – Ray’s bullet – grasping the bullet and tearing it out. Saving Benny from that damned bullet but killing him at the same time because you couldn’t just put your hand into a man and pull out a bullet. Dream Benny was writhing in agony and turning grey-white and he was dead again. Ray’s bloody hand held the bullet. And Benny was dead. ‘Oh, fuck, shit, no, this is a dream, wake up, Benny, Benny, wake up, fuck, no, ohmygodohmygod, Benny…’ Ben shot awake at the cry from behind him, dazed for a few seconds before realising that Ray was dreaming, or rather he was nightmaring. He stumbled to Ray’s side, grabbing out blindly and pulling him out of the horror and into his arms, rocking him for five minutes until he was capable of speech, reluctant to let go when he tried to pull back. “I killed you,” Ray choked, “I killed you again.” “I don’t think so, Ray.” “It means something.” “It’s just a dream. It can’t harm either of us.” “I can though. This…thing in me. I could kill us both. You shouldn’t be so close.” “You can’t catch AIDS through touching, Ray, you know that. And we don’t even know that you’ve contracted it.” “Hey, Benny. Benny. Walk away. I’m giving you the chance.” “Why would I want to do that?” “I’m the biggest fucking disaster in your life, I shoot you, I tell you things I shouldn’t tell you, I let you down…” “You let me down?” “I don’t want to fight over this,” Ray groaned. “Neither do I, Ray, but if you’re going to be irrational…” Ray stopped Ben’s words temporarily by burying a hand under his sweater, yanking the shirt beneath out of his jeans. “Umm…Ray…” The singlet was next, and then Ray’s hand was on his skin, reaching and skimming over his back until the fingertips rested on the scar left by his bullet. “Ray…” “You feel this? You get pain from this?” “Not noticeably. Your distress is far more painful.” Undermined once again, Ray let his head tilt forward and rest on Ben’s shoulder; Ben turned his face until the soft bristle of Ray’s hair brushed his cheek. “Is that what the dream is about?” Ray nodded and Ben smiled at the sensation of Ray’s hair on his face. Ray attempted to speak, couldn’t, cleared his throat and went again. “I take it out. The bullet.” “And you hurt me?” “Kill you. I’m covered in your blood and you’re dead.” Ben hugged Ray tighter. “You forgave me for what I did to you, and I could have destroyed your life. It’s little enough for me to forgive what you did to me.” “Say it.” “I forgive you.” “Say it.” “I forgive you. Please forgive yourself.” Ray nodded again, knowing he would try, may even succeed. Until the dream came again. Ben felt Ray freeze and knew he’d finally realised that his hand was still buried under Ben’s clothing, gently stroking his back. The hand snaked away and Ben registered a muttered apology, but his attention was drawn by the feel of that hand moving over his skin: such an unfamiliar feeling for him, such a moreish one. But it was wrong to be thinking about this. It was wrong. Wasn’t it? What was he thinking, of course it was wrong. Ray finally managed to shrug him off, refusing to make eye contact. “I’m gonna try to get back to sleep. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” This polite, conciliatory Ray disturbed Ben. The comfort Ben was prepared to offer stuck in his throat as Ray turned his back on him, shutting himself off, suffering alone. His hand dithered back and forth for a moment before he laid it gently on Ray’s shoulder, ignoring the sensation as Ray tried to shrink away from it. “Sleep well, Ray,” Ben whispered. … It was one of those occasions that Ben experienced every so often: one minute he was fast asleep, the next he was fully awake. Worried, already. That isn’t any way to wake up, he chided himself, sounding horrifically like his father. What had woken him? Ray. Ray? He was out of his bed roll within a second, on his feet, dressing. Out of the door within minutes, following footsteps in the snow. He found Ray sat on the same tree as yesterday, joined him and took a deep calming breath. “You think I’d sneaked off to hang myself?” “No. But you can’t blame me for being a little concerned.” “Still concerned. That’s something.” Ray gave him a tense smile, turning immediately back to the view. Ben arranged the words he’d practised before sleeping last night. “Ray… I don’t want anything coming between us. What you said…” “Can we forget about what I said, Benny? Put it down to drunk and stupid?” “How can we dismiss something that obviously causes you great anxiety?” “There are worse things.” Ray sighed a deep sigh. “I can’t lose you as a friend, Benny. You’re the only real friend I have. I’d be lost without you.” “I know that feeling,” Ben admitted self-consciously. “When you were missing…” The intensity of those past feelings unexpectedly swept back and stole Ben’s breath. Ray knew, understood. Without stopping to debate the action with himself, he put a friendly arm around Ben’s shoulders and gave a squeeze. “We’re here and we’re okay. Business as usual. We’re good. What are we?” A slow smile transformed Ben’s features. “We’re good.” “Yeah, we’re good.” They trudged back to the cabin, vociferously debating whose turn it was to prepare the breakfast and whose it was to clean up. The good humoured squabble was a welcome relief and both men were prepared to shunt any reservations about how easy it would be to carry on with business as usual to one side. They were surprised to see a visitor sitting on the cabin steps waiting for them: the son of the storekeeper. He rose as they approached. “Is everything all right, Danny?” “There’s a phone message for you, Constable. Dad said I should bring it straight away.” “Thank you kindly.” The young man handed over a folded sheet of paper which Ben opened and scanned quickly. “Thank your father for me,” he smiled distractedly at Danny, who nodded and wandered back to the store’s van. “Benny?” “It’s for you, Ray,” Ben told him grimly, handing over the paper and scrutinizing Ray’s expression as he read. He watched his friend turn pale. “They got him.” “Yes, Ray.” “The guy who…” “Yes, Ray.” “I’ve got to ID him.” “I’ll make breakfast and then we’ll pack up.” “I think – I think…” Ray managed to run a few yards away before heaving and bringing up his first thing coffee. Hearing Ben crunching toward him over the snow, he waved him away before heaving again. Ben accepted the direction and headed into the cabin, instantly but unhappily setting about securing the cabin ready for their departure. … The plane trip felt ten times longer than usual. Ray had clammed up completely and the only contact Ben was aware of was the constant pressure of Ray’s shoulder and arm as he leant against him. It was only now that Ben forced himself to face the horror of what Ray had been through when he was trapped in that cellar, taped to that chair; what he had felt then, what he was feeling now. The thought of his friend living in fear day after day, never knowing when or how it was going to end made his insides knot in empathy. Had he waited for Ben, expecting his partner to find him, gradually realising that it wasn’t going to happen, that he’d been let down again? Guilty and shaken, Ben took a quick glance at Ray: his head was laid back, his eyes were closed, he seemed fairly relaxed. But his fingers were wrapped tightly around the arm rests as if only by holding on so forcefully he could stay in that seat, going in the direction they were headed. Ben put his hand over Ray’s, resting it there; he didn’t get a response – he didn’t expect one – but he was happier just making contact. A quick phone call before
they left “He did the same to another cop over at the 21st,” Huey explained, “but the bastard didn’t realise the cop had recognised one of his heavies. Dumped the cop, cop sends his division out, the whole thing was wrapped up within a couple of hours.” “And how is he? The officer?” Huey hesitated, thought of Ray sitting silent, traumatised, in the back of the unmarked. “Like you’d imagine.” Ray couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe he was staring through the two-way at the scum who had turned his existence upside-down. “Number four. He’s the guy that injected me,” Ray said flatly, barely recognising his own voice. “Witness identified the suspect, Michael Hespetti,” Huey stated for the record. “Michael Hespetti,” Ray repeated under his breath. Three more line-ups and the four people who abducted and assaulted him were formally identified and being charged prior to their return to the 21st. “That’s it, Detective,” Welsh told him from the doorway. “Go home.” “Lieutenant. When do you want me back?” “When you’re ready and not a day before. Vecchio…you look like hell.” “And after such a great holiday!” “Go home.” “Yessir.” Coincidence dictated that Ray and Hespetti came face to face as they were headed in opposite directions through the station. Ray froze, Huey took a step in front of him, hand out ready to put a quick end to any scuffle. Ben moved protectively to his side. “Hey, it’s one of my boys!” Hespetti called out. “How you feeling, Vecchio?” Ray flinched, fought to control his anger, listened to the cops on either side of Hespetti growl out warnings to their prisoner. “I’m only showing natural concern,” Hespetti grinned. “Hope you’re being careful fucker, Vecchio, what with your condition and all.” Ray lunged toward the shackled man, blocked with some difficulty by Huey, but it was impossible to stop the flash of red that was the incensed Mountie, and Ben struck Hespetti so hard he bounced off the nearest wall and then crumpled to his knees. They were rapidly surrounded by officers; Ray and Ben were securely held back as Hespetti was unceremoniously hauled to his feet, blood pouring from a jagged cut on his mouth. He sought Ray’s eyes in the crowd. “Given it to the overprotective boyfriend yet?” Hespetti spat, his gaze shifting pointedly to Ben. “Don’t dignify that with an answer,” Ben told Ray firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’m finished here.” Ray borrowed the unmarked Huey had collected them in and drove to his house. He asked Ben to move their luggage from the present car to the Riv and then ordered him to stay with the car; he greeted his family, collected a few extras from his bedroom and an overfed wolf from the kitchen, said farewell to his family, and was back with Ben in twenty-five minutes. Soon Ray was parking outside of Ben’s building, turning the engine off but making no move to leave the Riv. “Are you coming up?” “Let me see your hand,” Ray automatically changed the subject. Ben offered his right hand and Ray examined the reddened knuckles carefully before looking up with an unforeseen smile. “Way to go, Benny!” “I shouldn’t have hit him.” Ray met his eyes questioningly, and Ben couldn’t stop the shameless grin that was already on its way. “But I’m glad I did.” Ray chuckled and released the hand. “Are you coming up?” Ben repeated. “Do you mind?” “Why would I mind? You know you’re always welcome here.” Dief agreed without hesitation: no-one at the Vecchio house brought doughnuts home. “How welcome? I can visit welcome, or I can stay welcome?” “You can stay.” Once in the apartment Ben organised himself, ran the tap for a few minutes to clear the stale water out of the pipes, organised coffee, tea, milk and mugs; organised Dief’s bowls and gave him a brief lecture on unhealthy eating, trying to find a good reply to Dief’s protestations that it would have been rude to refuse what had been offered; organised the unpacking, with a little help from his wolf; the only thing he couldn’t organise was Ray, who wandered aimlessly, looking lost. “Are you sure you want to stay here, Ray?” “Changed your mind?” “I don’t know how comfortable you’re going to be.” “I’ll be fine.” Ray came and sat at the kitchen table, watching Ben as he finished making the drinks before sitting opposite him. Ray cradled the hot mug, inhaling the richly scented steam that rose from it, knowing that Ben bought the expensive coffee just for him and doubted if he’d even offer it to anyone else. He noticed a bruise starting to show on Ben’s knuckle and he wanted to make it better, kiss it better. Following the line of wrist, arm, shoulder, neck to the face he adored, it was all he could do not to blurt out an admission of love that he knew he’d regret the minute it was past his lips because Ben would be kind and supportive and say all the right things, just nothing he wanted to hear. What if, just once, that beautiful mouth said yes to him? Ray took a sharp breath and Ben’s eyes darted in his direction, concerned and attentive. “Thanks,” Ray said softly. “For what?” Ray nodded at the damaged hand. “And what you said to Hespetti. Made it very clear to everyone in earshot where we stand.” “You mean…” “‘Don’t dignify that with an answer.’ Made it very clear you’re not…I mean, we’re not.” “Oh. What I was actually referring to was the possibility that you would ever put someone you cared about at risk. You would never knowingly do that to me.” “That’s right, I wouldn’t.” ‘Even if that beautiful mouth did say yes to me,’ thought Ray as his heart broke just a little more. Ben saw where Ray was now looking, unconsciously licked his bottom lip and could have kicked himself as a wounded expression touched Ray’s face and his focus changed. “It’s ridiculous to think we can ignore it.” Ray’s head snapped up at Ben’s words. “Don’t, Benny. We’ve done okay up till now.” “Only because I didn’t know there was anything to ignore. It’s a part of your life, Ray, and concealing it must be very difficult.” Ray conceded the point with a nod. “So, talk to me. When was your last relationship?” “Benny, I can’t…” “Friends talk, Ray.” Ray paused for a moment, unsure about this. Ben persisted. “When?” “You don’t mean one of the women I’ve made an idiot of myself over, do you?” “Why do you do that, Ray, if you know…” “Because I’m some sort of fool. I have this romantic dream that I’ll meet the perfect soul mate and, God help me, it’ll be a woman and everything will become easy. Easier. I spent years wishing I’d wake up straight, Benny, that I wouldn’t have to be paranoid around the family, at work – work’s the scary one.” “Did Angie know?” Ray cringed at the mention of his ex-wife. “I don’t know, maybe she guessed towards the end. But I tried so hard with her, to be a good husband. I did love her. Still do. In a kind of…” “Platonic?” “Thank you, platonic way.” “And the last man?” “I don’t believe I’m having this conversation with the Mountie,” Ray laughed awkwardly. “Okay, okay, I can do this.” He took a deep breath, composed himself. “Way back. Have to be about four years ago, lasted a few months.” “Were you happy?” That surprised Ray: apart from his mother, no-one ever asked him if he was happy. “At first.” “Why did it end?” “Because I didn’t trust him. I was being careful but I didn’t think he was so I couldn’t take that risk.” “He was…seeing other people.” “Seeing, feeling,
jumping, you name it.” Ben bristled at
the thought of someone betraying Ray like that; Ray saw the reaction and felt
warmer, nudged Ben’s calf under the table.
“Hey, “If I do, then it still will have been worth it.” Ray grinned. “I’m beginning to know what all those lost causes you pick up feel like.” The grin became a chuckle. “You see him bounce off the wall? How many cops shared that magic moment? You’re going to be flavour of the month.” “It was just for you, Ray.” “I know. How cool is that? I actually know.” Ben glanced at his watch, seeing by the time it was no wonder he was hungry; that was a good sign – a few hours ago he’d have bet he’d never have an appetite again. He got up, opened the refrigerator. “Supper?” “Don’t bother cooking,
I’ll call for take-out. Take-out…” Ray
sighed appreciatively. “ Dief’s head appeared in Ray’s lap. Did somebody mention take-out? A quick debate between the three of them led to a call to their favourite Chinese restaurant and Ben made fresh drinks while they waited for it to be delivered, found cutlery and chopsticks. Ray stretched out in his chair and absorbed the pleasant aura of domesticity. He even gave an unsuspecting Ben a long appreciative look from head to toe and back without feeling too guilty. But, hey, he was only human. After dinner Ben made the bed up for Ray, busying himself elsewhere while his friend stripped off to his underwear and climbed in. Then he did the same with his bedroll, not realising how exhausted he was until his body began to relax. “Hey, Benny.” So softly it was barely audible. “Hey, Ray.” Replied in kind. “I thought I’d lost you.” “Not a possibility.” … Ben returned to work the next day, Ray the day after. By the time a week had passed Ray felt able to withstand the crushing concern of his own household and moved back to his home. On the surface life appeared to have returned to normal: Ray was reinstated to normal duties when Welsh considered him to be back to his semi-reliable self of old. Gossip came and went, the curious looks ceased, everybody went back to tolerating Ray and perking up or ducking for cover when the Mountie came around to get Ray mixed up in something he should have had enough sense to lay down and avoid. Beneath the surface was a different matter. Ray accepted that Ben would be his best friend forever and nothing more than that, but his disappointment was outweighed by his gratitude that his friend had stuck around despite…well, everything. He rarely any longer woke up in a hot sweat at night because of erotic dreams about the Mountie, nowadays waking in a cold sweat as the fear he managed to batten down during the days exposed itself during twisted nightmares. He hated being alone at those times and clung to memories of their time at the cabin and at Ben’s apartment, when he would be extracted from a sleeping hell by strong arms that would surround him and protect him, gentle words that never failed to sooth him. The countdown to the test was continuously running in his mind and he only hoped he would be able to keep it all together when he heard the result, which he knew would be positive. Ben was scared, haunted by possibilities. Now he knew of Ray’s feelings for him it was hard to be objective about their relationship. Logically he knew he mustn’t take risks with their friendship – how unbearable would it be to become lovers for long enough to know that it wasn’t going to work out, then not be able to go back to being friends? But he did, just in passing he told himself, visit a local health centre to pick up pamphlets about AIDS and safe-as-possible sexual relationships, spent time discussing hypothetical situations with the case workers, soaked up information until he felt he had an answer to every objection Ray could throw his way. If it ever came to it. Which it wouldn’t because they both had more sense. Didn’t they? … Confined to the Riv one evening, bored by the current stake-out which was going precisely nowhere and proving an absolute waste of time and energy, they were discussing previous cases that might give clues as to where this one was headed. Ray was explaining an intricate fraud, methodically presenting the details, when Ben found himself zoning out the words, looking at his friend and wondering what the future held. The emotion that filled him – love for Ray, compassion for his terrible situation – was powerful enough to cause him physical pain. He turned his face to the side window, hiding unbidden tears that he furiously tried to blink away. “So, you see any similarities or is it just me?” Ben shook his head, not able to trust his choked throat with words. “Well, it was just a thought.” Ray sighed a heavy sigh. “Jeez, this is boring. You wanna get something to eat? Benny?” Ben felt a tentative touch on the back of his hand. “Benny, you okay?” Ben cleared his throat. “Tired, that’s all.” Ray immediately started the Riv’s engine. “Hey, I’m sorry. Let me take you home.” “No. I’d rather stay with you.” “We don’t have to both be here. Face it, the guy’s not going to show. You don’t pull off something that smart and then screw it up by going home to pick up a toothbrush before skipping the state.” “Fair point.” “Got any good coffee in?” “Of course.” Ray grinned. “Well, you just got yourself some company.” Ben was deep in thought
as they rode back to In the apartment Ben left Ray making their drinks while he went and hung up his tunic, taking a few private minutes inside the closet to release the tension in him and slump against the wall before regrouping and fixing his expression into something appropriately positive. He emerged and closed the door, leaning against it as he studied his friend, who was presently deep in meaningful conversation with a wolf who was feeling the pressures of sugar deprivation. “There’s nothing here, Dief. I promise. Yeah, I know what you think about healthy eaters. Look…” Ray started with the refrigerator and worked through the drawers and cupboards, displaying their lack of confectionary to the frustrated wolf. He abruptly stopped, re-opened the last drawer, curiously pulled out the leaflets Ben had been reading about his potential condition. Ben watched, tensed, waited for the verbal explosion. Instead Ray sat down at the table, opening the first sheet and reading. Ben knew this was an example of how far Ray had come to accepting what had happened to him; when he’d been offered a test at the hospital he had thrown the offer of literature back in the workers faces with barely suppressed fury. Ben returned to the kitchen and finished making the tea and coffee, putting the mugs on the table between them and sitting in silence as Ray read the pile of pamphlets from top to bottom. Finally he looked up, met Ben’s eyes with a thoughtful expression, pulled out his phone. “Pizza?” “Sounds good.” Dief gave a few pointers toward perfection. “Can you ask for extra pepperoni?” Ray smiled and did as he was told. It was just as well that they ordered Dief’s favourite as he ate most of it. Ray was preoccupied by what he’d read, Ben was preoccupied by Ray’s silent ponderings. When Ray rose to get back to his stake out Ben reluctantly watched him leave, not offering to accompany him because he knew that his friend needed time alone. But two minutes after he’d left Ray’s head poked around the door again. “Is it okay if I stay here tonight, Benny?” “Of course.” “I’ll be a couple of hours.” A wide grin broke through the solemn expression. “Don’t wait up, honey.” With the first truly genuine laugh Ben had heard in a long time Ray was gone. … At two in the morning Ray crept in, picking his way past the over-affectionate doughnut junkie and the sleeping Mountie, stripping off his outer layers of clothing and settling onto the bed with a groan of satisfaction; another groan as his back muscles unclenched and he stretched out, inhaling deeply at the faint scent of Ben that clung to the pillow. It was almost as if his brain registered that scent and equated it to safe and secure; unfortunately another part of his anatomy registered it too with a rather more base reaction, and he determinedly ignored the response, reminding himself over and over that this was his friend he was lusting after, and he deserved better. ‘Go to sleep, go to sleep,’ he chanted inside his head before channelling the message to the rather persistent erection. ‘For God’s sake, go to sleep!’ … Ray woke up cold. Very cold. He understood why as he made out the sounds of Ben fiddling with the radiator. “Heating down?” he asked. “Seems so. I’m sorry, I didn’t want the low temperature to wake you up. I know you’re very sensitive to it.” Ray tried to find more blanket to snuggle into. “’S’okay.” Ray shivered and burrowed further. Then he froze for a completely different reason as he felt Ben slide into the bed behind him. “What are you doing?” he hissed. “Shh.” Ben spooned behind him and the cold was forgotten as the Mountie-shaped hot water bottle moulded to his form, thawing him right down to his toes. “There’s a great advantage to being in bed with someone the same height as you,” he murmured as he pressed the soles of his feet against the tops of Ben’s. “Shh,” Ben repeated. “Go back to sleep.” But Ray was gone before the words were out. Ray had forgotten he was sharing the bed so it was a bit of a shock for him when he stirred again later. His primary reaction was to get away from the body that was far too close. Then it came back to him where he was, with whom. His secondary reaction was to get a little closer to the body that was a fraction of an inch too far away. At the slight shift Ben put his arm around Ray, resting his hot hand on Ray’s solar plexus; the movement changed the angle of Ben’s head and Ray melted as he felt the soft sleeping breaths tickle his neck. Heaven. This was heaven. Ray woke again an hour later as Ben was trying to extricate himself without disturbing his friend. Ray’s hand shot out and stopped him. “You’re so…warm,” Ray explained. He’d almost said ‘hot’ but had bitten the word back, however true the statement was in every sense. “I think you’ll find the heating is back on.” “I don’t care. Indulge me. Pretend I’m a stray puppy if it’ll make it any easier.” “Let a man ruin a few suits for you and you pay and pay and pay…” Ben teased as he moved back to his earlier position, sliding an arm securely around Ray and rubbing his face against the tantalising bristle of hair on back of his head. “You like the cut, huh?” “It has more than a certain je ne sais quoi.” Ray chuckled, quietened; Ben could actually feel him become serious. “That AIDS stuff, Benny. Did you get it for me?” “Yes,” Ben lied, then thought better of it. “Actually, for both of us. Hopefully it won’t be necessary, but on the off-chance…” “On the off-chance?” “We both need to understand the condition.” “Why both?” Ray knew the question was stupid even as he was saying it. “Because we’re in this together.” “I don’t know if that makes it easier or tougher.” “Well, we’ll take it a day at a time…” Ray pulled away enough to turn in the bed so he could talk to Ben face to face. “Benny, I can’t explain… I feel like – like… Like I’ve got a ticking bomb inside of me, and any second… I’m no good at taking things a day at a time, I need to know what’s happening, where I’m going…” Ray stopped, swallowed hard. “I’m so scared.” Ben looked into the frightened face, drew a breath to speak, knew he didn’t have the words and released it. His hand reached to stroke the back of Ray’s neck, gently sliding up to cradle his head. A gesture of comfort became a touch of love, and Ben leant forward and gently pressed his mouth to Ray’s. Ray didn’t believe it was happening even as it happened, even as Ben’s lips touched his, even as his whole physical being came alive in an instant at the feel of that beautiful mouth he was so fixated on. He was being kissed. By Benny. Delicate, tender kisses that didn’t make demands, just gave love, openly and honestly. It was all he wanted. Everything. Almost everything. Not enough. Too much. His hand cautiously touched Ben’s hip, trailed onto his stomach, up to his chest…and pushed him away. “No, Benny.” Ben said nothing, lost in the sweetness of this contact, reached for another kiss. “No!” This time Ray’s voice was vehement, his body taut. Ben placed his hand over the clenched fist Ray still had on his chest. “I’ve stopped.” The fist loosened and Ben worked his fingers into it, drawing it up to rest against his mouth. “We can’t do this, Benny, I can’t put you at risk.” “You can’t catch it through kissing, Ray.” “I’m not prepared to take a chance. For God’s sake, what’s the matter with me? I shouldn’t even be here with you!” Ray twisted away, throwing back the covers, grabbing at his clothes and beginning to dress. Ben was up too, beside him. “Ray, you mustn’t overreact.” “How can I help it?” Ray demanded, trying to keep his voice down. “You know what it would do to me if – if… Shit, I can’t even say it!” “You read the literature…” “I don’t care, all right? I don’t care.” Up and pacing now. “The only safe way is no way.” “Ray…” “For fuck’s sake, don’t argue with me on this one! Just because you’ve got an intelligent answer doesn’t mean I want to hear it!” Ray heard himself shouting, stopped, caught his breath. “You have no idea quite how I feel about you.” His words were now soft, shaky, full of emotion. “And I won’t take chances.” “I don’t get a say?” “No, you don’t.” In the emptiness that followed Ray finished dressing, accepted the coffee that Ben made, left without more than a difficult, ‘Bye, Benny’. Ben sat on the edge of the bed, ran his fingers through his hair, missed Ray already. His voice barely broke the silence. “And you have no idea quite how I feel about you.”
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