***Chapter 1. "Home."***
"You're kidding, right?"
"Well, no, Ray, my electricity has been shut off until they can--"
"How long, Benny?"
"Two weeks, possibly longer. But it's not a problem, Ray, you see, I have my kerosene lantern and--"
"Kerosene lantern?! This is what's wrong with you, Fraser! Nobody lives like this! I don't know what you Mounties make, but you oughta be able to afford something better than this rathole of yours. Maybe you grew up in an igloo where you burned whale blubber for fuel, but this is Chicago! We have this little thing called a light bulb!" He glared around the room in disgust. "We also have... furniture, and plumbing, and," he paused, sniffed, and made a face as a faint breeze floated in through the open window, "sanitation."
"Well, Ray, I--"
"Out."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Out. Get your clothes, that godforsaken sack you call a bed, and whatever else you own, and let's get going. You're staying with me until we find you a real apartment. No arguments, Fraser. Where's Diefenbaker?"
"Willy is looking after him. But Ray, I--"
"I said no arguments. You don't look after yourself, so I'm gonna look after you, like it or not. Ma'll be delighted to have you, Maria n' Tony and the kids'll hardly notice you, and Frannie, well, you'll just have to lock the bedroom door at night. Don't fight me on this one, Fraser. It'll only be for a couple of days anyway."
Fraser surrendered. "All right, Ray" he said resignedly. "If you're sure your mother won't mind."
Ray smiled. "She'll be thrilled. You're her favorite son. So let's get a move on before the sun goes down and we hafta start rubbing sticks together to see in here."
Two hours later, Fraser stood in the Vecchios' living room, wondering just what he'd gotten himself into. As Ray had prophesied, Mrs. Vecchio had welcomed him with open arms, then promptly retreated to the kitchen and started preparing an extra-special dinner for him. Maria had waved from behind her fashion magazine, Tony had grunted and nodded to him in passing, and the children were treating him like an obstacle in their mad dashes through the house. Francesca was smiling in that mysterious way that always made his collar seem too tight. He wanted desperately to escape to his quiet, if dark and cold, apartment on West Racine. But no, he had promised Ray. Besides, it would be... an adventure. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and... realized he had nothing to do. Dief had already been fed. Mrs. Vecchio had refused his help in the kitchen. Any advance toward Francesca would be taken as encouragement toward things he didn't even want to think about. The other Vecchios were unresponsive, and Ray had disappeared. Desperately, he tried to think of what he'd be doing at home right now. It didn't help. None of the options were feasible in this hyperactive household. Just as panic was about to set in, he heard a door close somewhere upstairs, then quick footsteps approaching, and then Ray's cheerful voice behind him.
"Hey, Benny, I cleared a spot for your bedroll. Ya wanna take your stuff upstairs now?" Then he noticed his friend's slightly stricken expression. He closed the gap between them and put his hands on Ben's shoulders. "You OK?"
Fraser smiled then, both touched by his friend's concern and out of sheer relief at having something to do. "Yes, Ray. It's just... all of this... well, it's a little overwhelming."
Ray's look was sympathetic. He kept one hand on the other man's shoulder as they headed for the Riv to retrieve Fraser's belongings. "You'll be fine, Benny. Like I said before, they only attack the ones they love."
He got through that night with only a few minor incidents, like when one of the nephews spilled spaghetti sauce on Diefenbaker (not that the wolf had minded, his tongue had done such a thorough job that a bath had been unnecessary). And at bedtime, Francesca started to approach him with a determined expression, but luckily he was able to dart into the bathroom and remain there until the danger was past. Once in his sleeping bag on Ray's bedroom floor, he was finally able to relax. Ray was there... nobody else... he was safe... safe... Ray... safe... He fell almost immediately into an exhausted sleep.
The next morning, Ray woke early to the sound of the Mountie shuffling around his room, getting ready for work. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, then opened them. Stretching gingerly, he became aware of the position of his body. Normally, he slept on his back, sprawled diagonally across the entire bed. This morning, he found himself on his side, close to one edge, leaving half the mattress empty. He rolled over and lay supine, gazing up at the ceiling. He hadn't woken up that way in a couple of years... the first time it had happened had been when he realized he wanted to marry Ange-- "nesting" she'd called it then, when he'd told her about it. Making room for another body next to him. When he'd stopped doing it, during the separation, he'd known the marriage was over. Ah, well, he must've been dreaming about her or something. With a sigh, he sat up. "Morning, Benny."
"Good morning, Ray." The Mountie finished knotting his lanyard and began to roll up his bedroll. "I trust you slept well?"
Ray smiled sleepily. "Yeah, Benny. You?"
"Mm." Fraser nodded as he placed the neat roll in the corner of the room. "Shall I wait for you, or..."
"Go on down. Ma'll have breakfast ready, and Frannie won't be up yet. I should be there in time to protect you when she finally does come in," he grinned.
That afternoon, they went apartment hunting after work. Ray had found several nice apartments, but Ben vetoed them all. One was too large, one was too expensive, one was too far from the Consulate, and one was next door to a lady who didn't like dogs. No luck. They returned to the bustling house, to another delicious dinner and a few more close encounters of the Francesca kind. She never seemed to learn... if anything, she was getting bolder. Ben was relieved when the door clicked shut at last, sealing him into the sanctuary of the bedroom with the only two beings he'd ever felt really comfortable with. With the detective, as with the wolf, he never felt either as though he were intruding or as though he were being intruded upon. He just felt... comfortable. Safe. Wanted. He fell asleep with a tiny smile on his lips.
The third and fourth days passed much like the second. None of the apartments was ever quite right, and Ben was getting used to family life. By the fourth night, he was even joining into the dinner conversation-- politely, of course, and only when he'd been spoken to first, but it was a start and he was enjoying himself. The only thing that still worried him was the way Francesca's eyes still followed him everywhere he went... the way Francesca herself seemed to follow him everywhere he went. At least, he thought with a sigh as he kicked open his bedroll, she never followed him in here.
Suddenly the door flew open and Frannie bustled in with a vase of flowers. "Hey, Frase, aren't these pretty? I'll just put them on the dress-- whoops!"
Diefenbaker yelped and jumped up as she stepped on his tail, knocking her off balance. The vase went flying, and when the room had settled down they all stared at the mixture of water, broken glass, and rose petals in the middle of what had been Fraser's bed.
"Oh, my God, Fraser, I'm so sorry..." Frannie's hands went to her mouth in genuine remorse-- how could she be so clumsy in front of this perfect man?-- but it didn't take long for her devious mind to come up with a new idea. "Hey, why don't you take my bed? I'll sleep on the couch."
*Yeah, and forget several crucial items that will need to be retrieved later,* three minds thought in unison.
Fraser blushed. "Thank you kindly, Francesca, but..."
"He's fine, Frannie. He'll sleep with me, I've got a double. You wanna make yourself useful, you get that bedroll washed by tomorrow night. And stay outta our room!"
Francesca made a small face at Ray, smiled apologetically at Fraser, then gathered up the sodden bedding and retreated. Ray scowled as he crossed the room to close and lock the door behind her. "Sorry about that. Guess you get to find out what a real mattress feels like for once, huh, Benny?"
"Are you sure, Ray? I can go--"
"It's no problem, Benny. I only sleep on one side anyway." *At least, I have for the past three nights running,* he thought. That still puzzled him. In a mock serious tone, he added, "Just don't try any funny business, y'hear me?"
"'Funny business,' Ray?"
Ray rolled his eyes. *Leave it to Benny...* "Just get in bed, Fraser."
"Understood."
He awoke the next morning to a pleasant warmth against his back. *Dief knows he's not allowed-- oh.* His sleep-fogged brain registered the events of the previous night. He was in Ray's bed. This was Ray curled against his back. He felt extirely relaxed, and for once, not at all inclined to get up early on a Saturday. *Hmm... maybe he was right about mattresses...* With a sigh, he settled himself to sleep in for the first time he could remember.
They only saw two apartments that afternoon before they decided to call it a day. They were back at the house by three o'clock, and passed the time by playing basketball in the driveway and walking Diefenbaker in the park until an impending storm forced them inside. Bedtime arrived, and Fraser reached automatically for his bedroll. When his hand closed on nothing, he went looking for Francesca and made an inquiry. She stifled a gasp and stared in horror at the window, where rain was beating down in sheets.
"It's... on the clothesline..."
He sighed. It was hard not to strangle her, sometimes. Still, Ray's bed was a lot more comfortable... "Goodnight, Francesca." Straightening an eyebrow with his thumbnail, he turned and headed back toward the bedroom.
"My offer's still open!" She called to his retreating back. No response.
*****
He stirred in his sleep. Heat. Body heat. And weight... an arm... "Ange?" No response. Then he remembered. Benny. Benny was sleeping with his arm wrapped around Ray's waist. Ray realized, vaguely, that this should bother him for some reason, but at the moment he couldn't remember why. He slid back into sleep.
*****
The next morning was Sunday. The whole house was in an uproar as the family prepared for church. Ben found that he was naturally expected to go along, and was a little surprised by the Catholic service. His own religious upbringing, such as it was, had been an odd mixture of Anglican and Inuit traditions, and he had never entered into it very deeply. Benton Fraser, RCMP, had studied religions as objectively and impersonally as he had studied everything else, going to church with his grandparents because it was "the right thing to do" but placing his faith in nobody but himself. It was a little startling to see Ray and his family on their knees together in the Vecchio family pew, and to realize, as they recited prayers and creeds, that they really meant the words. Formality and feeling... maybe this was part of what held the diverse Vecchios together. Haltingly at first, he began to join his voice in the parts of the service he knew, and was rewarded by smiles from Ray on his right and Mrs. Vecchio on his left. He'd crossed one more milestone towards "adoption," he realized, and made a mental resolve to do some serious thinking about his own religious stance.
There was no apartment searching that day. "Sundays are for family," Ma Vecchio declared. There was a ball game on television for the adults, board games on the floor for the kids, and a walk after dinner when the rain finally stopped. Fraser found himself a part of it all, actually enjoying the activity, the noise, the companionship. Even Frannie, perhaps out of a sense of guilt, was behaving. He was beginning to feel at home here.
Bedtime came, and the bedroll was still soaking wet on the clothesline. The two men crawled into bed together without a second thought now. *Remarkable how fast the human psyche adjusts to new situations,* reflected Fraser as he snuggled into the warm softness with the comforting presence of his best friend at his back.
*Nice to be able to share a bed again,* thought Ray. *Man was never meant to sleep alone.*
"Goodnight, Ray." He was startled by Ben's voice. They'd never spoken to one another in bed before. It was an acknowledgement of the fact that they were sleeping together... together, not just on opposite sides of one mattress. The thought was strange, but not entirely disagreeable.
"'Night, Benny."
Monday afternoon they checked three apartments and rewashed the bedroll, which had been blown from the clothesline into a mud puddle. Fraser awoke to Ray's arm around his waist, and reluctantly removed it before Ray could wake up and be embarrassed by it.
Tuesday afternoon they investigated two apartments and returned to find the nephews playing clubhouse under the clothesline-tented bedroll. Ray woke to Fraser's hand on his chest, covered it with his own, and went back to sleep.
Wednesday afternoon they saw four apartments and washed Kool-Aid out of the bedroll. They woke at the same time, their arms wrapped around each other. Their eyes met, then closed slowly, and they went back to sleep without moving.
Thursday afternoon they had a stakeout, saw no apartments, and came home too tired to bother looking for the bedroll. They fell asleep with Ray's head on Benny's shoulder.
Friday afternoon, when Ray picked Benny up at the Consulate, he looked into his friend's eyes and deliberately turned left, away from the realtor's office, towards home. Home...
***Chapter 2. "Caro Mio"***
He was going home. After thirty-four years, he finally had a place where he felt safe... wanted... loved. There would be no apartment now, no more camping out, no more coexisting with relatives he barely knew. Not anymore. The Vecchio family had taken him into its heart, had become his family. Pleasure and anxiety struggled in his mind, then were caught up into a breathless excitement. Still, he had to check-
"Ray... are you sure?"
Ray squeezed his arm gently and smiled. "Yeah, Benny. Ma'n I had a talk last night, and you've been awarded Official Honorary Family Status. I'm your next of kin anyway, and it'll be a lot easier to drive you around if I don't have to be picking you up and dropping you off at some apartment somewhere. So if you want to..." his words trailed away as he realized he'd never once, through this whole thing, asked Benny what he'd wanted to do. "It's your choice, Benny. If you want to come live with us, we'd be happy to have you. If not, we can go back and keep looking at apartments. What do you wanna do?" His expression was completely open. He wanted this to be Fraser's decision. As the silence lengthened and Fraser just stared out the window, though, he began to be afraid he'd made a terrible mistake. "Benny?"
Finally Fraser turned to him with the most beautiful smile Ray had ever seen on him, unguarded and free. "Let's go home, Ray."
They drove in companionable silence for a moment. Then two things came into Ray's head at the same time: a suggestion which, for propriety's sake, had to be made, and an inexplicable reluctance to make it. Conscience won out. "'Course, we'll get you your own bed... and we can empty out one of the storage rooms on the third floor so you can have your own place... give you a little privacy." Why had that been so hard to say?
"Oh." He should have been expecting this... any logic could have told him he wouldn't be sleeping in Ray's bed indefinitely. It wouldn't have been quite... decent, platonic or not. Why, then, did it come like a slap in the face? "Thank you kindly," he replied, his voice carefully neutral.
Ray noticed the subtle change and glanced at him sharply, a half-formed notion arising in the back of his mind, but before he could do anything about it, they were home and Fraser was stepping out of the car. The thoughts disappeared without reaching the surface, and were immediately forgotten in the excitement of telling everybody that Ben was, indeed, moving in for good.
With two law officers in the family, the formalities were quickly dealt with. Fraser insisted on contributing a fair share to the household budget, and a formal agreement was drawn up and signed in time for a celebratory dinner. "Tomorrow Raimondo will show you the rooms and you will pick yours, figlio mio." Ma said, pinching his cheek gently. Ben thanked her, and blushed at being called "son." But... was Ray imagining things, or had the faintest of shadows crossed his friend's smile at the mention of the new room? Oh well... again the suspicion vanished before it could be articulated.
When they retired to Ray's room at bedtime, Ben found his bedroll, clean and dry at last, neatly placed in the corner it had occupied when he had first come to this house. Slowly, and with an odd feeling of-- could it be homesickness? But getting the familiar roll back should have felt like coming home-- he reached for it, but Ray's voice stopped him.
"No way, Benny. You're not spending your first night as a Vecchio sleeping on the floor. You can share with me until you get your own bed, K?"
Ben turned and smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you, Ray."
"Aw, don't worry about it. What are friends for? Come on to bed, Benny."
Fraser complied, and once beneath the blankets, Ray put his arm around him and pulled him into an embrace. "Welcome home, Benny."
Ben's hand came up to clasp the one on his chest as he responded, "It's good to be home, Ray." When sleep found them, they had not moved.
The next day, Fraser got a grand tour of the upper floors of the Vecchio house. They were well filled with boxes and old furniture and various odds and ends, not good enough to use but too good to throw away, that the family had been accumulating for the past four and a half decades. He selected a small room at the front of the house. It would be fairly easy to empty, it had a nice view of the park across the way, and it was directly above Ray's room. He couldn't have told why this was a particular benefit, but it pleased him, somehow, to know that his best friend and partner was there, on the other side of this layer of beams and flooring. Ray grinned when he announced his choice.
"Should've known you'd pick the smallest one, Benny." But he bent down and scooped up an armload of stuff, and together they worked to redistribute the old things to the various other storage rooms on this floor. The room was small, but the two men worked slowly and took frequent breaks. There were old yearbooks of Ray's to pore over, hideous old clothes to try on and strike poses in, and innumerable small things with stories attached to them to be discussed. When Frannie came upstairs to call them to dinner, the room was only half emptied.
Sunday was once again devoted to church and family, and then work kept them occupied, so the room lay untouched until Saturday rolled around again. The intervening days were filled with noise and laughter and affectionate squabbling such as Fraser had never known with his own blood family, but he was adjusting to it and soon neither he nor the Vecchios could have believed that he had been living there barely more than a fortnight. And each night, he and Ray slept in one anothers' arms. It did not seem at all strange now, to either of them, to sleep clasped to a firm masculine chest. It just felt enormously right, and neither felt much inclination to make progress on the upstairs room.
It had to be done, though. After Ben's third lazy Saturday morning lounging in Ray's bed, Ma suggested over breakfast that if they finished clearing the room that afternoon, she and Maria would see about getting some curtains made and fixing it up while they were at work. If they checked furniture stores in their spare time and found a bed for Ben, she was sure they could have the room ready for him by the end of the week. "And get you off of the floor, caro."
They both jumped slightly at that. So Ma had not realized Fraser and Ray were still sharing the bed. They hadn't been hiding the fact, but since nobody else entered the room at night, it had just been assumed he'd returned to the bedroll. Fraser was about to assure her that he was not, in fact, sleeping on the floor and she should not worry, but something stopped him. He was not ashamed of sharing a bed with Ray, and failed to see anything improper in it... so why this curious hesitation to reveal the arrangement to his mother? In the end, he simply thanked her, kindly, and they retreated upstairs.
The room was cleared by evening. As they stood in the doorway, arm in arm, they each felt a sense of pleasure and accomplishment, but also an unaccountable note of sadness. This, Benny's new room, symbolized a beginning, but also an ending... they turned slightly, and their eyes met, but just then there was a clatter on the stairs and Francesca was there with the vacuum cleaner. The tension which had hung in the air for the past few seconds was shattered, and the mood vanished beyond recall. That night, however, they held one another extra close.
Ma Vecchio was as good as her word. By the time they returned to the house the next Friday, the floor of the little bedroom was scrubbed, the windows washed and curtained, the walls freshly painted in the same pale blue paint as Ray's, and there was a brand new bed in the corner. It had not, in fact, come from a furniture store; Tony had remembered a cousin who ran a repair business and did some carpentry on the side, who had built the bed for free. Family. Fraser smiled as he thought about it. He ran a hand over the slick wood. The bed was well built, and much larger than his old cot. 'But,' the smile faded, 'Not so large as the one I share with Ray.' Where had that come from? He ought to be happy to finally get some measure of independence back. He'd be sleeping up here tonight... and the night after... and the night after that. His own room. The ultimate sign that he lived here now. He tried to see it in that way.
*****
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The mattress was soft, the blankets warm, Dief was on his cushion in the corner. He glanced out the window at the stars. Three AM. Why was he still awake? He shut his eyes firmly, then reopened them as he heard a faint creak outside the-- no, his-- door. He called softly. "Ray?"
The door opened, bare feet padded across the floor, and a weight settled on the edge of his bed. "Couldn't sleep either, huh, Benny?" A hand caressed his cheek, and he sat up. No words were spoken, and none were needed. They sat gazing at one another in the moonlight, and slowly, slowly, they came together. Their lips met for the first time, softly, and lingered for several long moments.
"Oh, caro mio..." Ray's voice was a sigh, barely audible above the soft movement of leaves outside the window. Ben's strong arms came around him, and the kiss deepened. It was still gentle, still sweet, but there was an intensity behind it which surprised them both. At last, they drew apart. Ben pulled back a little, and Ray, misinterpreting the movement, stood up to go.
"No..." Ben lay back on the pillows and lifted the edge of the covers in invitation. With a smile, Ray lay down beside his best friend, his head cradled in the hollow of Ben's shoulder, wrapped in the warm circle of his arms. Fraser's lips touched his brow gently.
"Goodnight, Ray."
"'Night, Benny."
***Chapter 3. "What Now?"***
Ray woke slowly, rising to consciousness like a bubble surfacing in a deep, still pond. His first sensation was one of warmth and comfort. Then, gradually, he became aware of strong arms enfolding him, holding him close. Thirdly, he noticed that his head was pillowed on a broad, firm chest, covered with something soft and fuzzy... flannel. Benny. He remembered, then, what had taken place the night before. He had kissed his best friend. Just a simple kiss, nothing more involved than that, but it changed everything. With that kiss, and everything that it signified, all the various puzzle pieces of his life suddenly slotted into place, fitting as neatly as he himself fitted into the circle of Ben's arms. He sighed, listening to the slow, strong thudding of the heart beneath his head, and let the early-morning peace flow over him.
Suddenly his eyes flew open. This was Saturday morning-- the children would be up soon to watch cartoons, his mother would be cooking breakfast... he couldn't let anyone find out he'd slept up here. Gently he disentangled himself from Fraser, who stirred and moaned slightly at the sudden loss. Ray stooped to caress his cheek and dropped a feather-light kiss on his forehead.
"Shh, Benny, go back to sleep. I gotta go back to my room now, but I'll see you at breakfast in a little while. Ok?" Fraser nodded slightly, and with a long, last look, Ray turned and hurried downstairs.
He was in luck. The rest of the family was still in their respective bedrooms, and he made it to his own without incident. His bed was as rumpled as he had left it-- a few hours? A lifetime?-- before, and he climbed in and lay quietly. He was normally a late sleeper, but today his mind was too active to allow for dozing. He had kissed Fraser. Fraser had kissed him. They had kissed each other. And then they had slept in one another's arms, and it had felt... right. Perfectly, exactly right. The old cliché fit: it had felt like coming home. So... now what? Did this mean he was-- he swallowed hard--gay? No, he decided after a moment's thought. He was as strongly attracted as ever toward women, and not at all toward other men. But therein lay the difference. Women attracted him. Benny was the other half of his soul. He wished briefly that Ben had been born a woman, then changed his mind. Ben was what he was, and he wouldn't change him for the world. Any part of him.
He caught his breath as he realized what this meant. "Any part..." Fraser had parts he hadn't taken into account before. Last night, in the kiss, all there had been was love and a desire to attain the same closeness physically as they already had in every other aspect of life. Sex had not entered the equation at all. Yet, someday it might have to. He knew he would never be able to feel for any woman the kind of affection, trust, respect, friendship, cameraderie, and... love... he felt for Benny, and he could not bring himself to contemplate a relationship based on anything less. That left him two options: a lifetime of celibacy, which he didn't think he could face, or a sexual relationship with another man.
He had never thought much about homosexuality. Certainly he had never thought about it as applying to himself. Growing up, he'd been vaguely aware of it as one of the myriad sins of the Catholic church, and as a police officer he'd seen his share of Chicago's stranger night life, but it hadn't made any more of an impression on him than anything else he'd seen. Now he was forced to think about it. And he did, for several hours, until Ben's footsteps on the stairs roused him and he got up to face the day.
Ben found it difficult to sleep after Ray had gone. Raised with more of an ethical code than a religious one, he was not so disturbed by this new relationship development as was his partner, but it still demanded some serious thought. He had been alone most of his life, and had had little experience with love of any kind. He'd thought he'd been in love with Victoria, but that had been a mistake... might he not be mistaken this time too? Confusing best-friendship and brotherly love for romance? Of course. Loneliness and inexperience, that's all it was.
But... Ray had been the one who'd come up to his room in the middle of the night. Ray had grown up surrounded by love, friendship and affection, had known real romantic love. He wouldn't make that kind of mistake. Ever more ready to trust his friend's emotions than his own, Ben accepted that the kiss had been real. He went back in his mind to the moment Ray's lips had met his own, to what he himself had felt and to what he had sensed from his friend. He could not deny it. This was love.
So if it was love, what then? He'd always figured that someday he'd settle down, get married, raise a family, but his job had come first, and he had never entertained any serious plans in that direction. Ray's family was his family. They were already living together. He couldn't see that much would change by their being in love, except... oh. Oh dear. This was unforeseen... he loved Ray, that he could accept, but he'd never thought of him THAT way...
Of course, it followed naturally, but thinking of him in that context was distinctly... odd. Not exactly distasteful, but definitely foreign. Could he really be contemplating a-- he forced himself to think the word--sexual relationship with his best friend?
His mind was beginning to reel, and he forced himself to stop. There would be time enough to worry about that later on; for now, they needed to concentrate on the simple addition of romance to the relationship. They needed to talk. This decision made, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Time to get started.
***Chapter 4. "Discussion"***
Breakfast that morning was unusually quiet. The two men ate quickly, avoiding eye contact and conversation. When they had finished, Fraser stood and broke the silence. "Ray, I'm going to take Diefenbaker to the park. Perhaps you would care to accompany me?" he asked, meaningfully.
Ray caught his gaze and read the unspoken question there. "Sure, Benny," he answered slowly. "I'll get my coat."
They walked side by side in silence. Their steps slowed as they approached a secluded bench beneath the trees, but they couldn't help reaching it eventually. They sat and watched as Dief trotted off to whuffle around the bases of trees and garbage cans. At last, Ray turned to his friend. "So?"
*So.* Ben leaned forward, tracing designs in the dust between his feet. *So I think I'm in love with you and I think you're in love with me and I'm terrified. I'm terrified that I'm wrong about this like I've always been before and we'll just end up hurting each other and I love you too much as a friend for that. I'm terrified that because you're a man I won't find you sexually attractive if we get that far. And I'm terrified that I will.*
"So?" Ray repeated. "I assume you asked me to come out here to talk about last night, so talk." *Talk, dammit. Tell me what you're feeling, because I sure as hell don't know what I'm feeling. I love you, but I don't know how I love you. I'd do anything for you, I want to do things for you, but I don't know if I can do this. Hell, I don't even know what 'this' is. And that scares me to death.*
Fraser could hear the tension in Ray's voice and reacted to it, pulling into himself even more, forming a tight emotional knot of defensiveness. Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced out "Ray, I..." He could get no further.
"You're having second thoughts. Ok, fine. It never happened. We went to bed in our own rooms last night, we were in our own rooms this morning. Anything in between was just a dream. That what you want?" He waited, half hoping, half dreading, that Ben would say yes.
A thousand yeses were indeed on the tip of Ben's tongue. As he looked up to answer, however, he caught his friend's eye and saw through the surface defensiveness to the gentleness and real concern for his feelings in the depths. He changed his answer. "No." Ray did not respond, but a certain amount of rigidity in his muscles that had been growing all morning left him. Encouraged, Ben continued. "No, Ray, I don't want to forget... do you?"
"No. Last night, when we... kissed... it was like something clicked inside me, y'know?" Watching out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fraser smile. "It felt right. I just... I don't know where to go from here. You and me... me and a guy... it's just not something I ever thought about. And I guess it's got me a little spooked."
"It's all right, Ray. We don't have to go anywhere just yet. The only question at the present is, do we want to continue exploring our relationship in this particular direction, or do we want to stop where we are? It is not unheard of for friends, close friends, to enjoy physical closeness without necessarily venturing into the realm of romance or, ah, sexuality. So when you say it felt 'right' to kiss me, as indeed it felt right for me to kiss you, does this mean that you would like to remain friends at this level, or that you would be interested in, ah, pursuing..."
"Dammit, Benny, I don't know what it means! It's not that easy. I mean, you're my best friend. I don't ever wanna lose that. But what if there's more to it? I guess... I guess I don't wanna give up what we have, but I don't wanna shut the door either. I dunno... what do you want, Benny?"
"I think I want the same thing you do, Ray. To try this, but to be able to come back to what we have if it doesn't work out. I will always be your friend, Ray. No matter what else may happen between us. Can you... promise me the same thing?" he asked, giving Ray the Big-Eyed Mountie Look in full force.
"It's a promise." Ray smiled and stuck out his hand and they shook on it. The smile faded and the expressions on both their faces became deadly serious as their gazes drifted downward to rest on their clasped hands. Slowly, the grip shifted and their fingers interlaced. Green eyes once again met blue, and, hesitantly, their lips came together. They hovered a moment, barely touching, then met and clung. Time flowed by unnoticed, lost in this contact. Tentatively Ray touched the tip of his tongue to Ben's lips. Ben jumped slightly, startled, and it was immediately withdrawn. After a few seconds, however, he returned the gesture, his own tongue shyly seeking entry to Ray's mouth. Ray's lips parted to allow him in, and their tongues swirled gently together. They broke apart, breathing raggedly, and once again their eyes fell to their hands, locked together so tightly that all the knuckles were white.
"You still want to go through with this, Benny?" Ray asked, hoarsely.
"Do you?"
"I'm askin' you."
"Well, I'm asking you."
"I asked you first." There was an indisputable twinkle in both pairs of eyes as the tension dissolved in their good-natured verbal sparring, and this time when their mouths found other business to attend to, there was no awkwardness. The kiss was easy and natural, warm and unhurried, and this time they both remembered to breathe. When it ended, they were relaxed and smiling. "Come on, Benny. Let's go home."
***Chapter 5. "Things Fall Apart"***
She'd been watching them for a while. Ben had noticed almost at once, of course, and managed to monitor her expression without letting either her or Ray know that he knew. At first, her eyes as they trailed after him and her son had reflected curiosity and a mild fear. Over the next few days, the fear had grown, the curiosity dissolved. Her eyes followed them unwillingly, haunted by a dread of what she might see. Her face had hardened with her growing suspicion, and he knew the turmoil of love and loathing she kept underneath.
This couldn't go on. He loved this woman as his own mother; she had taken him into her home, into her heart, and he was tearing her apart. Once again, he wasn't good enough; wherever he allowed himself to love, to be loved, disaster followed. For years he'd shut himself off, but with Ray he'd allowed himself to hope, to dream...
No. He'd been blind, been stupid to think that he could change. This relationship was just like all the others, bringing nothing but pain. And the pain was inevitable now; if they continued the relationship, Mrs. Vecchio would be hurt, and it would not be long before her feelings became obvious to Ray and made him miserable as well. If he broke off the relationship, told Ray he just wanted to be friends again, he would break Ray's heart, and, the things they had said about maintaining the friendship no matter what to the contrary, he knew that they would never regain the old footing. That was gone forever. The damage was done, the structure of their lives eaten away, and it was only a matter of time before the world came crashing down around them.
He tried to postpone the inevitable as long as he could. During the day, he stayed as far from Ray as possible, hoping against hope that Mrs. Vecchio would forget, would believe that they were nothing more than the friends they seemed to be. At night, he made love to Ray with a passionate sweetness born of desperation, an attempt to hold on to what he could already feel slipping beyond his grasp.
Then it happened. It was a morning like any other; they had made love, they had slept locked in one another's arms, and now, in the first grey light of early morning, Ray slipped from his lover's bed to return to his own. In the semi-darkness of the hallway, he did not see the woman who sat huddled at the top of the stairs until she spoke.
"You sleep with him?"
He jumped, and if he had not clutched at the banister he would have fallen. "Ma!"
Hastily lowering his voice, he whispered, "What are you do--"
Softly, tonelessly, relentlessly, she repeated, "You are sleeping with Benton?" Her face was shrouded in darkness, unreadable.
After a long pause, he answered. "Yeah, Ma."
"You lie with him... as with a woman?"
He caught the wording. Straight from the Bible... geez. Gazing down into the shadows of the stairwell, he swallowed hard and answered again, "Yeah."
There was silence for a long time. Then, in the same quiet, flat voice, she dismissed her son. "Go to your own room. I do not want to see your face today. We will speak later. Go." He went.
At the other end of the hall, ears sharpened by a lifetime of surviving in the wilderness heard the quiet voices, knew what they meant. Turning his back to the last echoes of footsteps going down the stairs, for the first time in thirty years, Benton Fraser cried.
He cried for Ray's mother, and for her family. He cried for Ray. He cried for his mother and his father, for Victoria, for everyone he had loved and failed, and he cried for himself. He wept, silently, until there were no more tears, and then he rose from his bed and started packing. First, there were the things he had brought with him: uniforms, two pairs of jeans, some shirts, sweaters, socks, underwear. The box containing his few dishes and cooking utensils from the closet shelf where it had lain, untouched, since he had first moved into this room. His father's journals. Then there were the things he had been given since coming to live with the Vecchios: drawings by the nieces and nephews, a handmade sachet from Maria, a dried rose Francesca had given him in apology the day she had finally given up and accepted him as a brother. He put all of these things carefully into the old trunk he had inherited from his father. Last of all, he picked up the little framed snapshot of himself and Ray, taken on his first day in Chicago. The tourist couple had sent him a copy, and he'd kept it-- first in the trunk, and later on his bedside table. He stood now in the sunlight filtering through the window, looking at it.
Ray's arm was around Ben's shoulder, and he was grinning easily at the camera. Ben stood at attention, eyes fixed straight ahead, trying not to smile. That had been the beginning of their friendship... the faces blurred suddenly. Carefully, he wrapped the photo in an old scarf and placed it on top of his other belongings in the chest. He closed the lid and locked it, then turned and sat on the trunk and buried his face in his hands. He did not move for hours.
It was evening. Ray had spent the day pacing the floor for hours at a stretch and now lay spread-eagled on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had heard the door slam as his mother left the house that morning, then nothing. The family had gone about their business on tiptoes, hushed by the storm that hung in the air about their matriarch. When the knock came at his door, the sound went through his body like electricity, wrenching at nerves already worn raw by hours of tense waiting. His eyes squeezed shut briefly, then found he no longer had the energy or the will to be irritable. He answered wearily, "Come in."
Francesca opened the door cautiously. "Ray?" She wasn't sure what was going on, but she sensed from the atmosphere of the house that it was something serious. "Ma just came home and she wants to see you and Benton downstairs. Maria and Tony and I are supposed to take the kids out for a couple of hours, but I'll be here later if you... wanna talk, or anything..." She trailed off and looked at him helplessly, then looked down at the floor.
Ray rose slowly, crossed over to her, and kissed her gently on the cheek. He managed a small smile with his lips that never quite reached his eyes, and said simply, "Thanks, Frannie."
She smiled back, a little uncertainly. "I hope you work it out." Then, cautiously, "He's a great guy."
His smile this time was a little sad but real as he confirmed her guess. "Yeah. Yeah, he is." He squeezed her hand a little as he turned to go. "Is he...?" Ray gestured towards the stairs.
"I'll call him."
Ray went downstairs. When he reached the parlor door, he paused. Maybe it would be better if they went in together. At least he could warn Benny, before he had to face what would probably be the most trying interview of his life. He dropped his hand from the doorknob and sat down to wait.
Francesca knocked on the door of the little bedroom on the third floor. "Benton? It's Francesca. Can I come in?" She stepped back as the door opened. "Ben, my mother wants to see you in the parlor. You and Ray." She stopped as her eyes took in, first, Ben's haggard appearance and, second, the trunk in the middle of the stripped room. "Benton? What's going on?"
"I'm leaving, Francesca. I'm sorry. Please, excuse me--" he tried to brush past her quickly, but she caught his arm.
"Benton, wait. I know about you and Ray"-- he caught his breath and turned to stare at her-- "and I want you to know I'm happy for you. I know you and I haven't always seen eye to eye, but... whatever happens in there with my mother, you've always got a friend, OK?"
Ben's face was still pale and drawn, but his eyes had lost their dead look as he smiled at her. "Thank you kindly, Francesca."
She stood quietly and watched him go, then followed. And as she got into the car with her sister's family, she looked back at the light coming from the windows of the parlor and silently wished them luck.
Ray stood up quickly as Ben came down the stairs. Taking Ben by the shoulders, he whispered, "Benny, my mother... she knows. About us. That's what this is about."
Ben answered in a low voice, "I know."
"What? How long have you known? Did she come talk to you?"
"No. I could... tell by the way she looked at us, that she suspected. And I heard you talking on the stairs this morning. I'm ready to leave, Ray. I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused all of you." He turned away, agitatedly rubbing at his eyebrow.
"No, Benny." Putting a hand to his friend's cheek, he forced Ben to meet his eyes. "I'm not sorry for what we did and I don't regret one minute of the time we've spent together. And I don't want you to regret it either. I don't want to hear you talk about leaving-- if you don't think you can stay here, I'll go with you, wherever you wanna go. But you can't just walk out on me and expect me to let you disappear from my life. I love you, and nothing she says is gonna change that. Besides, she can't kick you out." He forced a smile. "It's my house."
"Ray--"
"Sshh." Ray stopped Ben's mouth with his own. The blue eyes closed as Fraser allowed himself to be lost in the kiss. After a moment they straightened and looked one another in the eye. Ray reached for the doorknob and swung the door open. "After you."
"Thank you kindly."
Mrs. Vecchio was enthroned in her large armchair facing the doorway, looking as imposing as a short, graying Italian mamma could look. She was silent as they entered the room and stood before her, the Mountie standing unconsciously at attention and her son nearly as rigid. Then she motioned towards the couch. "Sit." They sat.
"Ma--" Ray began, but she cut him off.
"Sssht. No talking. You two are...?" she gestured vaguely.
"Yeah, Ma. Benny and I are--"
"Sssht. How long?"
"Two months."
"Two MONTHS??? You have been... For TWO MONTHS? And in my own house! Oh, Madre de Dios!" She crossed herself quickly, then sat rocking back and forth, tears squeezing out between tightly-appressed eyelids.
"Ma--"
"Sssht." She remained silent for a long time. Then she began to speak again, her voice carefully controlled. "I... suspected you were... for a long time. I tried to make myself believe I was wrong. Then last night I cannot sleep and I hear footsteps in the hall and I go out and I see you go up the stairs to his room. Still I tell myself, he is only going to talk to him, to ask something about work, maybe. So I wait. But you do not come back. And this morning I see you come out, sneaking from his bed of sin--"
"MA!!!" Ray had been listening quietly, but the sight of Ben's face growing progressively whiter had had an effect on him and he finally snapped. "I'm not going to listen to this. I love Benny, and if you think that's wrong then I'm sorry, but I don't. We don't. I'm sorry it hurts you, but that's just the way things are sometimes. I'm not gonna--"
"But Raymondo, the church--"
"The church is changing, Ma. There are some Catholics now, good Catholics, who believe that homosexuality is OK. Talk to the priest!"
"I tried!!" She was crying in earnest now. "This morning after I talked to you, I went to the church. All day I pray to Santa Maria to give me strength, to help me to understand. I pray to accept what makes you happy. Father Behan, he asks me what is the matter, and I cannot answer him! What you are doing is against God and against the church! I cannot tell it to him! Please, Raymondo, my own son, and Benton, my other son, please do not do this. Do not make me choose between my family and my faith!"
"Mrs. Vecchio." Ben's voice was strained. "I apologise for the pain I have caused you and your family. I never meant to hurt you. I am grateful for all that you have done for me, but I love your son. I cannot stay here and pretend that I don't. My things are packed and I am ready to leave, tonight. I'm sorry. Goodbye." He turned and left the room, and they could hear his footsteps on the stairs.
Ray stared after him, then at his mother. Then he rose swiftly and followed his partner out the door without a backward glance.
"Raimondo!!!" His mother's anguished wail followed him as he took the stairs three at a time. Throwing a few things into a small pack, he raced up to Ben's room. Together, they maneuvered the trunk down the narrow stairs, Diefenbaker trailing reluctantly behind. They could still hear weeping as the door closed behind them.
***Chapter 6. "Holding On"***
They had been driving for about fifteen minutes before Ray realized he had absolutely no idea where they were going. He'd been driving on autopilot, his mind racing over all that had happened in the past two months- Benny moving in, discovering he could no longer sleep without his partner's warm body in bed beside him, their first kiss, adjusting to the idea of loving another man in a sexual way...
Storming out of the house when his mother discovered them.
He'd known, of course, that she wouldn't be happy about it, and her disapproval had come as no surprise. He'd borne her tears and her accusations pretty well for the most part. Until he'd seen Benny's face, and hadn't been able to stand the pain there. And when Benny left, he'd followed without hesitation. But... followed to where?
"Benny?" he asked, glancing at the man who sat still and quiet as a statue beside him.
"Hmm?" Fraser responded without moving, still staring emptily out the window at the world rushing past.
"You got someplace you want me to go, or you want to find a hotel or something?"
Fraser's voice sounded tired and dead as he answered. "You should go home, Ray. You belong there. I don't. You shouldn't have come with me."
"Dammit, Benny, I told you before I'm not gonna leave you! I meant it. If I go back, then we both go back. Now, here's a motel. You want me to turn here or what?"
Fraser just shrugged, and Ray muttered under his breath as he turned the wheel sharply to the right, running one rear wheel up onto the curb as he pulled into the parking lot and stopped in front of the motel office. "Wait here," he ordered as he got out and went inside to pay for the room.
They carried their belongings inside in silence, and once everything was settled, Ben stood looking out of the window as Ray collapsed on the bed, then rolled onto his side to watch him. *What's he seeing out there?* Ray wondered. *Cars? Neon signs? Endless miles of snow?* "Benny," he called softly. Then, when his partner didn't respond, he tried again, louder. "Benny." Fraser turned. Sitting up, Ray gestured at the space beside him. "C'mere."
Ben crossed the room wearily and sat, looking at him. Taking his friend's hands in his own, Ray continued, his voice gentle but insistent. "Benny, listen to me. I'm sorry it didn't work out with Ma today. But it is not your fault that it didn't. I meant what I said earlier. I love you, and I'm not sorry for that." He lifted one hand and raised Ben's chin so he had to meet his eyes. "Don't you know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me?"
Ben looked up at him, suddenly appearing very vulnerable. "You... love me, Ray?"
"Yeah, Benny. I love you. And I'm not gonna leave you. Not ever. Ok?"
Ben stared at the floor for a moment before answering. Then, "Ray, I... I love you too." He said the words slowly, tasting them as if for the first time. He glanced up timidly, like a child fearing a blow. He was met by the dazzling warmth of Ray's smile.
They kissed then, a long, slow, melting kiss that slowly grew in passion and urgency. They fell back together into the soft heap of the pillows.
"Ray," Fraser pulled away just enough to speak. "May I..."
"Mmm?"
Fraser captured Ray's hand as it trailed down his body and brought it to his lips. "Lie still."
Ray looked puzzled and intrigued, but did as he was told as Fraser bent in for another kiss. Strong hands undressed him tenderly, and he sighed as those hands caressed him, leaving trails of fire that were followed by warm, moist lips that brushed here, lingered there, meandering slowly but inexorably downward. A thrill of mingled terror and delight ran up and down his spine as he realized what Fraser intended. They had never done this before... they'd made love, touching and caressing and pleasuring, but they'd never actually crossed the crucial boundary into sex... and then those lips took him, and he was beyond thought.
When it was over, Ben moved to lie beside his lover, his blue eyes wide as they sought Ray's face. "Benny... that was incredible," Ray murmured softly as he reached up to caress a flushed cheek.
Ben looked down with a self-conscious smile. "I'm glad. I was never very good at saying what I feel, Ray." His voice assumed its lecturing tone as he continued. "I suppose it's only natural, growing up as I did with my father so seldom at home and then being so strict when he was home, and my grandparents devoting themselves almost exclusively to their library. You know, Ray, among the Inuit--"
"Benny." Ray interrupted him with a smile, recalling him to the present.
"Ah." He resumed his quiet seriousness. "Yes. Well. I, ah, I do love you, Ray, although I know I don't often say as much, and you've done so much for me, given up so much for me, that I wanted to do something for you in return, something to show you what I--"
"Oh, Caro, no! You don't owe me anything. Don't ever do anything you don't wanna do because you think it's what I want or you owe it to me or something. If we're gonna do this, it's gotta be because we both want it, OK?"
Ben's smile was still uncertain. "I did want to."
"Then at least let me return the favor," Ray said as he leaned forward and kissed him once again.
They slept fitfully that night, in the strange bed lit by the weird blue glow of the neon outside the window. They woke at intervals, seeking reassurance, each holding tight to the one solid thing in a world turned upside down.
***Chapter 7. "Dawn of Hope"***
A beam of early morning sunlight crept across the room and struck Ben squarely in the eye. He turned his head carefully, not wanting to disturb the man whose body lay so closely intertwined with his own. It had been a restless night for them both, however, and within moments Ray also gave up pretending to sleep. With a wide yawn, he opened his eyes to the concerned and loving blue ones watching him. He smiled wearily as he extricated himself from their embrace and rolled onto his back. "Morning, Benny."
"Good morning, Ray. Sleep well?"
"Oh, like a baby. You?"
"Perfectly." They regarded each other silently for a moment. Then Ray spoke again.
"Didn't sleep at all, did you?"
"Not a wink."
"Yeah, me either. You want breakfast?"
"Not really. You?"
Ray shook his head and stared at the ceiling. "So. Where do we go from here, huh?"
Ben considered this. "You know, Ray, I've been giving this some thought. Your mother's objection to our relationship appears to be mainly, ah, spiritual in nature. Now, she was unable to bring herself to speak to the priest about her fears, so she is probably unaware of the changes that the Roman Catholic church has been undergoing as regards its stance toward homosexuality. Now, I believe that if she were able to discuss the matter with Father Malone or Father Behan, she could be induced to change her mind and accept--"
"Yeah, but that's the problem. She won't talk to a priest because she's afraid it's sinful, and we can't convince her it's not a sin unless she talks to a priest. It's a Catch 32."
"You mean Catch 22?"
"22, 32. I never paid much attention in English class. You know what I mean."
"Yes, I do. And you are right, she will not go to the church voluntarily. However, if we were to explain the situation first--"
"We could get the priest to go to her. Sorta break the ice."
"Precisely."
"So let's go!" Ray rolled out of bed and onto his feet in one fluid motion. He was halfway to the bathroom before he noticed that Ben was staring at him.
"What?"
"I... it's nothing," Ben mumbled as he looked away. "Well, it's not *nothing,* I mean, it is *something*... it's just..." Suddenly he met Ray's gaze directly. "This is the first time I've ever seen you naked."
"Yeah? Hey, wait a minute. What about last night? That's how I *got* naked."
"It was dark. And while I do have exceptionally good night vision, it's not the same. 'Colors seen by candlelight will not look the same by day.' Elizabeth Barrett Browning. And while she was speaking metaphorically--"
"Benny."
"Yes, Ray?"
"You like what you see?"
Ben paused, mouth still open, for about half a second. Then, "Very much, Ray."
"Yeah?" Ray's voice took on the high tone it always did when he was pleasantly surprised.
"Yeah." He smiled.
"You're not just sayin' that, are you?"
"No, Ray."
"Wow." With a shake of his head and a grin that threatened to split his face in two, Ray disappeared into the bathroom.
Ben got up and dressed slowly. He fished a pair of clean, freshly starched boxers out of the trunk and pulled them on, and was just zipping his jeans when Ray reemerged. He stopped in the doorway and leaned against the frame, watching appreciatively the smooth play of muscles in Ben's back.
"You know, Benny," Fraser turned around, startled, "The view's not so bad from here, either."
Ben's face relaxed in a shy smile. "Thank you kindly."
Ray crossed the room and kissed him gently on the lips, then stepped back, trailing his hands slowly down Ben's chest, his eyes following in their wake. "Nice. But, you know, I've never seen *you*... well.... You got dressed too fast."
"Well, I'm sorry, Ray. I wasn't aware I was being timed."
"Yeah, well, now you are. So next time I expect you to wait, all right?"
"Understood." Ben's face was solemn, but his eyes had not lost their twinkle. And Ray's twinkled right back as he went to find his own clothes. He opened the small pack he had thrown together the night before.
"OK, what have I got here... toothpaste... deodorant... a t-shirt, five ties, and a sock. Oh yeah, I packed well. I never even *wear* these. When was the last time you saw me wear this?"
"Is that a serious question, Ray?"
"Uh, no, Benny. But I can't wear this stuff. If we don't patch things up with Ma pretty quick, there'll be no point, 'cause you won't want to be around me anyway." He looked up ruefully at his partner, now fully and immaculately dressed.
"You know, Ray, you're perfectly welcome to share my clothes."
Ray grinned. "Thanks, Benny, but I think there's more starch in those shorts of yours than on Ma's dinner table. That's an experience that'll wait until we find out when we'll be going home."
"All right." Ben's voice sounded uncertain. "But you'll let me know if you change your mind?"
"Yeah. And you'll let me know if I need to?"
"Will do, Ray."
*****
"Father?"
"Ah, Raimondo. What brings you here so early this morning? Your mother was here most of the day yesterday, but she wouldn't tell me what was wrong. I hope it's nothing serious?" Warm brown eyes reflected paternal concern as Father Malone greeted the pair.
Ray attempted to smile but it came out as more of a grimace. "Well, Father, that depends on how you look at it. Um... could we see you in your office?"
"Of course. I have about an hour before I have to prepare for Mass." He opened the door and stood aside to let the two men pass.
"Thanks."
"Thank you kindly."
Father Malone stood back for a moment to observe quietly. He always tried to sense the mood of the people who came to him for help, finding that it made the counseling run more smoothly. These two seemed tense; Raimondo had picked up a small paperweight from his desk and put it down again twice, and Mr. Fraser was fidgeting with the brim of his hat. Ray's eyes flickered about the room, Mr. Fraser's mostly focused on his hands, and every so often they glanced at one another. Hmmm...
"What can I do for you this morning?" he asked, settling himself carefully behind his desk. "Please, sit down."
The two men did as they were asked, but neither spoke. For once, Ray sat as rigidly in his chair as Ben did. Father Malone merely folded his hands on his desk and leaned forward, his expression open and neutral, and waited. Finally Ray broke the silence which had grown unbearably loud in the small office.
"Father, uh... what we say in this room, it stays in this room, right?"
"Of course. What is bothering you, my son?"
Ray thought briefly, not for the first time, about pretending he was working on a case instead of seeking advice for himself and Benny, but decided he couldn't lie to a priest. "Well, Father, I, uh, that is, we..."
"We were hoping to discuss with you the Catholic church's stance on homosexuality," Ben broke in. He then glanced at Ray, who looked relieved and somewhat grateful for the interruption. Then both of them turned back to the priest, who appeared slightly startled but not particularly upset, which they took as a good sign.
"Are you asking this for yourselves?" he inquired. "The two of you are gay?"
"Yes, Father," they replied, softly but in unison.
"Hmmm." He leaned back in his chair, regarding them thoughtfully. His next question caught them off guard. "Why?"
"We... we just love each other, Father," Ray answered finally.
"There are many kinds of love, Raymondo. You may say that you love your mother, or your sisters, or your dog, or your job. What makes you think that this love is homosexual?"
"It didn't start out that way, Father. We were friends, you know, best friends, and partners. And then he moved in with my family, and we were always together, and it was really great. It is really great. And I don't ever want to change that."
"But why must this love be sexual? Would it not be possible for you to remain friends and partners, even share a house, without becoming physically intimate?"
"Father, if I may...?" It was Ben who answered this time, and Father Malone turned to him and nodded for him to continue. "The sexual instinct is an extremely strong one. I believe that the Church offers two venues for its followers as regards sexuality; one, that the individual abstain from sexual contact altogether, or if this is not possible, to marry and maintain a monogamous relationship with a single partner. Now, as police officers, neither Ray nor I can devote the time and energy that a marriage, and any resulting children, would deserve. In addition, Ray has his family to care for. We believe that, under these circumstances, to get married would be irresponsible and of great disservice to the young lady. In contrast, the nature of our working partnership already requires that we be as close or closer than most married couples. We share a bond of trust, respect, and affection. We also already share living quarters, and as Ray says, we would like to do so for the rest of our lives. We believe that we have the makings of a very good... marriage, and the only one we could in good conscience seek. Now, the Catholic church has traditionally forbidden marriage between persons of the same gender, but we understand that this policy may be changing, and we have come to seek your advice and help." Out of words at last, Ben ground to a stop.
After a moment, Father Malone began his reply. "It is true that the Church has traditionally outlawed homosexuality as contrary to nature and, therefore, to God's will. Sexuality was created for the purpose of reproduction, and any deviance from that purpose has been regarded as sin. However, it has become known that homosexuality does, in fact, occur in nature, and this argument has lost strength accordingly. It has also been condemned on the grounds that it is forbidden by a passage in the Book of Leviticus, but this may have passed away with the other Hebrew purity laws, by our Lord's commandment to Saint Peter in the Book of Acts: 'What I have made clean, do not thou make unclean.' Recent translations of the original texts have even cast doubts on the validity of the original interpretation. Because of this, the Church cannot say that homosexuality is absolutely and in all cases a sin."
"Now there's a positive statement," Ray muttered to himself. Aloud he said, "So what do you believe, Father? Do you think we're going to hell?"
"Raimondo, that is not my place to judge. The church cannot say with certainty that homosexuality is a sin. All I can tell you is what a sin is. A sin is anything that draws you from the love of God. So now you decide. Does your love for Benton bring you closer to the Heavenly Father, or further away? Does it help you to do the work He has given you to do, or does it prevent you from doing it?"
"Father, you know I've never been very involved with the Church. But since I've been friends with Benny, I've become a better person. I've become a better cop. The closer we get, the more we're able to help people. And if that's what you mean by doing God's work, then my being with Benny has helped it more than anything else that's ever happened to me."
"And you, Benton. You feel the same way about your relationship with Raimondo?"
Ben looked at Ray for a long moment, then firmly took his hand and turned back to the priest. "I do."
"Then I cannot condemn this relationship. May our Lord" he made the sign of the cross "protect and watch over you both."
"Thank you, Father," they said together.
"But Father," Ray continued, "the problem is my mother. She doesn't believe that it's right for us to be together. We thought that maybe if she heard it from a priest, she might be able to accept us. Could you...?" The rest of the question went unspoken, as he looked up at the priest in mute appeal.
"Is that why she was here yesterday?"
Ray nodded. "She was ashamed to say anything."
"I will talk to her. Tomorrow."
"Thank you, Father," he said once again, in utter sincerity.
"Thank you kindly," Ben added.
Father Malone smiled and nodded in benediction, and warmly clasped their hands as they stood to go. And as they left the church, they weren't holding hands, but they felt as if they were.
***Chapter 8. "The Light of Day"***
They were sitting on a small, slightly dilapidated wooden bench, watching the waves on the dark surface of The Lake They Call Michigan. After Mass, at which they had waited in vain for Mrs. Vecchio to appear, and a lunch of which neither of them had eaten much, they had spent most of the afternoon wandering aimlessly by the lakeshore. This bench, invisible from the path, they had found by following Diefenbaker into the protective canopy of an ancient weeping willow, and had welcomed its seclusion. They sat in silence for about twenty minutes before Ray finally broke it.
"Benny?"
"Mm?"
"This morning, with Father Malone... all that stuff you said about us being together being practical and logical... did you really mean that?" Ray's golden-green eyes were wide as he looked at his friend.
Ben's voice reflected his surprise. "Of course, Ray."
"I mean, is that all this is? Just a solution because neither of us has time to find a woman and settle down? Because we're so busy with our jobs that we're trying to turn a working partnership into a life?"
"No, Ray, I didn't mean--"
"You said you loved me, Benny. Do you, or am I just, what was it, the 'conscientious outlet for your sex drive'?" Ray's expression was unmistakably hurt and accusing.
"No, Ray, you're not, I mean, I do," Ben stopped, took a deep breath, and started over in a calmer tone. "I do... love you, Ray. More than anyone I've ever known. But romantic or sexual love is not the only, or even the most important, requirement for a successful long-term relationship. I felt that kind of love for Victoria, as you, I am sure, felt it for--"
"That was different," Ray broke in, defensively.
"But the feeling was the same. The feeling usually referred to as "love" is caused by hormones, and it can be triggered by many things, can fade away, or as I discovered once, can be confused with an inner ear imbalance. With Victoria, I was prepared to throw away everything and build a life based on that emotion, and it would have been a mistake. You showed me that. What makes our relationship different is that we have love, yes, but we have more than that. And that 'more' is what I told Father Malone this morning." This was Benton Fraser at his most reasonable, and therefore his most infuriating. Ray still felt like arguing to let out some of the tension inside him, but he could find no reasonable objection to make to Ben's speech. He stayed silent, hunched over on the bench. After about a minute, Ben continued. "You know, Ray, the idea that a marriage should be based on love is of comparatively recent origin, and many cultures still arrange matches according to a family's monetary, political, or social aspirations, often without even consulting the young couple. These marriages are often more stable and successful than the more common American match based solely on emotions. I remember reading a book once in my grandmother's library by C--"
"Dammit, Frasier, does everything have to be a book to you? Do you have to think like a Mountie every minute of every day? Now, maybe emotions are inferior to your logic" he fairly spat the word out "but they're real, and some of us like to pretend that sometimes they mean something."
"Ray, calm down."
"Don't tell me how to feel, Frasier." The waves of anger emanating from Ray were almost palpable, and the release was beginning to make him feel better.
"I'm sorry, Ray. I only meant--"
"Shut up, Benny. Just shut up." Ray glowered.
"Understood," Ben replied, somewhat taken aback. Silence reigned for another minute. Then:
"Aw, Benny, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped down your throat like that. I'm just kinda... I mean, this whole thing has got me..." he gesticulated wildly in true Italian fashion "It's a lot to handle, y'know?" Ray slumped back into the bench and stared out despondently across the water. "And now it's got me fighting with you."
Ben glanced quickly behind them to be sure nobody was watching, then reached out a hand and gently cupped Ray's cheek. Expressive green eyes turned up to his, silently asking forgiveness, then closed slowly as he bestowed it with a warm and lingering kiss. When it was over, Ray remained leaning against his partner, Ben's cheek resting against the top of his head, warm breath tickling the fine hairs there. After a moment he spoke. "Thanks, Benny. I needed that." In answer Ben turned his head slightly and dropped a soft kiss on his forehead. Their fingers twined together in Ben's lap, and for a long time there was no other sound besides the lapping of the waves and the rustle of the willow boughs, and, after awhile, a soft, mournful whine.
"Benny?"
"Hmm?"
"There's a deaf wolf trying to get in my lap."
Ben sat up with the ghost of a smile visible in the fading light. "I think he's trying to reach your pocket, actually. What do you have in there?"
"I dunno, I..." Ray reached into the pocket of his slacks and fished out a crumpled paper bag containing, he found, the last uneaten third of an extremely elderly cruller. He held up the doughnut with an expression of distaste. "Wonder how long that's been in there. Here, Dief. You want it, you can have it." He tossed the chunk to the wolf, who caught it in midair and snapped it down happily, then sat looking at him with his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth in a hopeful pant. Ray grinned in spite of himself. "Sorry, boy, that's all I've got. Hey, Benny, don't you ever feed this wolf?"
"It is past his suppertime." Suddenly Ben realized that he himself felt hungry. "And ours as well. Would you like to go get something to eat?"
"Yeah, sure. I know a great little place not too far from here. Dief'll have to stay in the car, though."
"I'm sure he'll manage. Won't you, Diefenbaker?" Dief rolled his eyes and yawned hugely. "He never listens."
The tension threatened to return over dinner as the pair thought of the ritual family Sunday feast they were missing at home, but with an effort they managed to keep the mood light. They ate slowly, neither having had more than a few bites of food in the past forty-eight hours. Had it really been less than two days since that terrible moment when Ray's mother had caught him slipping out of Ben's bedroom and condemned them? Neither man mentioned the situation, by a sort of tacit understanding, but it was present in every silence, in the slope of Ray's shoulders, in the lines of Ben's face. Was it really only last night that they'd argued with Mrs. Vecchio and rushed out of the house into the darkness and that cheap motel room where they'd . . .
What had they done? They'd been exploring for months now, testing the boundaries of their relationship, getting to know each other's bodies, growing accustomed to the idea of loving another man. They had taken it slow, restrained by the novelty of the situation, a touch of fear, and the comforting illusion that as long as they stopped short of sex, nothing had really changed; they could still turn back and have the old friendship waiting there, safe and secure.
All that was wiped away in an instant by a few words spoken in the dark. Mrs. Vecchio had caught them, and what had been confined largely to a world of moonlight and dreams suddenly became reality, solid and irrevocable. She'd asked her son if they were lovers, and despite two months of subconscious obfuscation, Ray had found himself unable to say no. And Ben, listening in silence on the other side of the door, had had to agree.
No line had been crossed in that bed after all. They had been in love, been lovers, for a long time. There was no question of going back now, but in hindsight, there never had been. Whatever happened between Mrs. Vecchio and the priest tomorrow, whatever happened afterward, they would face it together, committed.
Finishing their meal in the dim sanctuary of the restaurant, they paid the bill and headed for the door. There was a brief pause as they faced one another in the doorway, and then they stepped, hand in hand, into the light.
~~~The End~~~
