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After Kowalski left, Fraser's apartment was very quiet. Too quiet. He stared out the window for a long time, waiting for the sunrise. It would've been all too easy to give up hope -- to give up, period. Accept what had happened stoically, as he had when he'd lost Victoria, and try to carry on somehow. But it was difficult to know how, in the wake of last night's disastrous events: Ray Vecchio's misguided, murderous assault on Ray Kowalski, his total repudiation of them both when he'd learned they were lovers, and Kowalski's furious departure afterwards. Fraser shook his head. In one fell swoop, one awful night, he'd lost both his best friend and his lover.

Under those circumstances, admitting defeat was more than tempting. It almost seemed necessary.

But somehow, he couldn't do it. As he watched morning light steal over the streets of Chicago, slowly, silently illuminating everything, he realized that in the last few days, something inside him had changed. His interior landscape had altered in a similar way. Brightened. Old shadows had retreated, old wounds finally closed. Despite last night's confusion and pain, his path suddenly seemed clear. He knew where he needed to go: and all his roads led to Ray Kowalski.

Ray was home.

It was that simple -- and that complicated. Because Kowalski might be home, but he was not a cabin or an apartment, not a possession that could be owned, or relied upon to stay in one place. He was volatile, passionate, even tempestuous at times; but most of all, right now, he was gone. Again. Despite his promise not to leave him a second time, he'd stormed out last night like a human tornado. Ben closed his eyes, reliving that instant. When Ray had slammed the door savagely behind him on his way out, the reverberations had shaken not just his apartment, but his heart as well.

Still, the knowledge of his own love and need for him, and the memory of how Ray had returned that love before Vecchio had burst in and torn it all apart, gave Fraser a tiny morsel of hope. A fragment of warmth, in the midst of the coldness of his pain and shock. Something to cling to in the wake of the disaster. He knew what he had to do: make things right with his Rays again somehow. And he made up his mind to do it, no matter what.

Starting with Ray Kowalski. This time, he promised himself, things will be different. Not like they were with Victoria. He had good reasons for that belief. This time, he wasn't running after a mere dream of love, because Ray had told him that he loved him; and unlike her, Ray didn't lie. This time, he wasn't pursuing a lover who scared him to death, who was a criminal with a dark side he couldn't fathom. Ray was a good, brave, and honest man. So this time, he wasn't blindly chasing his own ruin without any thought for the consequences.

This time, he was following his bliss -- with his eyes wide open.

He didn't deceive himself that it would be easy, though. He wasn't even sure how to do it. How to tell Ray Vecchio that he was sorry for having deceived him; how to beg Ray Kowalski's pardon for having endangered him. He didn't know if he deserved either man's forgiveness. But he knew he had to try to win it. Had to think of something.

For the first time in his life, he resolved, calmly, rationally and with a deep sense of purpose, not to stoically accept his latest losses. After all, he never gave up on pursuing criminals. Why should he give up on finding love and happiness? For too long, he'd let himself believe that he labored under a curse, that he was doomed to be alone. He'd forgotten that for a curse to work, a victim must first believe in its power.

Ray Kowalski had taught him to believe in other things.

Before last night's debacle, Kowalski had seemed to believe that he was worth loving. Perhaps there was still time to convince him of that; to prove that his faith, his feelings, had not been misplaced. He smiled a little, thinking of the old cliche that things are always darkest before dawn. He devoutly hoped that was true, and that they'd been through the worst now. He was going to do his best to make sure of it. This dawn would be more than just the start of another day for him. It would be the beginning of a new life: a new Benton Fraser. A better man, whom Ray Kowalski had created.

The new Benton would make amends for his mistakes, he vowed. Starting today.

Serena awakened hours before dawn, to a loud knocking on her apartment door. "Whaa-- wait a minute," she mumbled, groggy. Forcing her eyes open, she pushed herself upright in bed, and brushed her hair out of her eyes as she glanced at her little bedside clock. "2:35 a.m.," she sighed. No wonder it's so dark. No wonder I'm tired...

Whoever was at her door was impatient. The knock sounded again, louder than before. Faster, more urgent. "Okay, okay! I'm coming," she called. As she swung her legs off the bed and stood up, a bad feeling swept over her. This reminded her of nights in Las Vegas. Nights when Ray had showed up on her doorstep like this, very late, without warning. He'd never said where he'd been or what he'd been doing, just that he'd come into town on business, and wanted to see her. But she'd known it was more than that, because his eyes were always shadowed by a darkness she didn't understand. A darkness that he would never explain. He'd told her that he was a detective, so she knew it had to do with his work, but he never wanted to talk about it. And it was hard to press him for answers when she knew he kept silent out of concern for her, either because telling the truth might endanger her, or because he was afraid it would be too painful for her to hear. Maybe both.

So she'd stopped asking questions, but she'd still ached to comfort him. Sometimes, on those late night visits when she felt he was hiding pain he didn't dare let her see, she'd tried to make love to him. But he'd never let her. He'd take her in his arms, hold her and kiss her, but no more than that. "We have to wait," he'd always say. "I want to wait. Please. Because I love you. It's not the right time now."

When she'd asked him when "the right time" would be, he would only say, "Some day." Eventually, she'd stopped pushing. Stopped asking him. She sensed that his refusal had something to do with his work, and she'd learned not to ask about that. She'd learned not to question him about much of anything at all. Except once, towards the end of his undercover stint...

Ray showed up at her place at 2:00 a.m. one morning with a bandage on his cheek, terrible bruises all over his face, and deep cuts around his neck. He'd been attacked. It was brutally obvious, and it shocked her. "Ray!" she blurted. "What happened?"

A muscle jumped in his jaw. For a second, he didn't answer her. She thought he wasn't going to. Then at last, he said quietly, "Nothing. Just a little misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding!" she echoed, incredulous. "Yeah, with someone's fist. Did you get into a fight or something? Were you mugged?"

He shook his head. "It was business," he said coolly. His tone was a bit frostier that time, though. A subtle warning to her to back off.

But she was too upset to heed it. She stared at him. "Business. Right," she repeated in disbelief. His facial bruises were bad enough, but the marks on his neck were worse. It looked like someone had wrapped some kind of really thin cord around his neck, so tightly that it had cut deep into his skin. He calls that business? she reflected, incredulous. It looks like someone tried to strangle him! She shivered. All at once, she knew. Somehow, she just knew. "Business with Mr. Maxwell?" she asked.

Ray didn't answer her. For a moment, he didn't react at all. Then he turned his head and shot her a sideways look. His face was expressionless, controlled, except for a slight flicker of surprise in his eyes. It was the only reaction he'd let her see, but it was enough. Enough to tell her that she was right. Maxwell had assaulted him. It struck terror into her heart. She'd seen enough of that creep in the club to sense that he was obsessive -- if not insane. She suddenly wondered what other injuries might be hidden under Ray's clothes; and if Maxwell had done worse than assault him. Did he try to kill you? She opened her mouth to ask him, but he'd already turned away. She knew what he was doing -- composing himself. Making sure no more of his real emotions showed in his eyes, so she wouldn't find out anything about the incident that could endanger her. She bit back her question, frustrated, knowing he wouldn't answer it.

"Don't worry, Serena," was all he said. "It's done with. It's over."

But was it? His voice lacked conviction somehow, as if even he didn't quite believe that. Love and fear filled her, made her shiver. She hated this, hated how frightened she was. She was scared to even embrace him, for fear it might hurt him -- scared of how much he'd already been hurt -- and even more scared that it might not end there. That he might get killed. Because if Maxwell had tried that and failed, he would no doubt try again. The idea spread through her like ice, made her whole body feel cold. But she realized that if she knew that, then Ray must know it, too.

That's why he didn't sound convinced. He's afraid Maxwell will try again. But he's not complaining, she thought admiringly. He's not frightened, or hysterical, or any of the things I'd love to let myself be right now. He was cool as always. In control. She wondered how the hell he did it. He lived with so much fear, in such terrible danger, but he did it so bravely. Never a whine, never a complaint. So how could she do any less?

She went to him and took his hand. It felt cold in hers; but her own fingers weren't much warmer. She raised his fingers to her mouth to kiss them, and saw more bruises on the back of his hand and on his knuckles. Whatever had happened between him and Maxwell, at least he'd gotten a few punches in, too. Though the sight of his injuries pained her, she was glad that their fight hadn't been entirely one-sided.

Her eyes filled with tears as she kissed his hand softly. The thought of losing him was almost more than she could bear, but she wouldn't let him see that. If he had to go away to ensure his safety, then so be it. She folded her fingers around his, trying to warm them. "Can't you leave?" she asked him. "Can't you just get out?"

He smiled then. A real, genuine, warm smile, just for her. It lit up his face, bruised as it was. "I will," he said unexpectedly, slipping his arms around her. "I'm gonna go. Soon."

Serena's heart contracted so painfully that for a moment, she could hardly breathe. He's leaving me! Perversely, now that he'd agreed to do what she'd asked, it was the last thing in the world she wanted. Still, part of her was glad, because it meant that he would be all right. Out of danger. So when she could speak again, all she said was, "Good. I want you to be safe, and you're not safe here."

It was as close as they ever came, even in the privacy of her apartment, to discussing what he did.

"Don't worry about me," Ray murmured, resting his chin lightly on top of her hair. He pressed a kiss into the top of her head, his lips feather light. "Anyway, you gotta tell me something first."

"What?" she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Tell me you love me," he said, his long, elegant fingers stroking her hair. "I never get tired of hearin' that."

She smiled, in spite of everything. "You know I do."

"Then I have to ask you something." He put a finger under her chin, tilted her face up to his. " Will you come with me when I go? Cuz I don't wanna leave you."

She was silent for a moment, stunned by the idea. By his unexpected request.

But her silence only seemed to make him more determined. Into the sudden hush, he said, "Will you marry me, Serena? I love you, and I want you to be part of my life forever."

She stared up at him in wonder, into his beloved face. This tall, slender, balding man with the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen, who smiled at her and spoke of love when he was probably in a lot of pain, who'd put himself in harm's way to take down a group of terrible, evil men -- he was everything she'd ever dreamed about. He was brave, tender, funny, generous and charming, like a knight in shining armor in one of those old fairy tales. And she wanted him to be hers.

"Yes," she said, smiling back at him radiantly. "I'll marry you, Ray."

"Yeah?" he echoed. And for once, he let his feelings show. Delight dawned on his face, made it shine.

"Yes. And I'll go with you. Wherever you want."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, and held her tightly. She could feel a slight bulge around his chest, as if he had a band wrapped around his chest, under his tailored shirt. Or was it a bandage? She wondered with a pang if he had broken ribs. Although Vegas had been her home, she suddenly felt they couldn't get out of town fast enough. She couldn't stand the thought that Ray wasn't safe here, that he probably wasn't safe anywhere, as long as he was pretending to be Armando Langostini. She made sure to hold him lightly, so as not to hurt him. She could feel his heart beating fast against her, too fast, and she suddenly realized how unsure he'd been of her answer. That about this one thing, at least, he had truly been afraid. "Silly," she whispered into his shoulder. "Don't you know how much I love you?"

He rubbed his hands over her back, a kind of wordless caress in reply. Then he lifted her head off his shoulder, took her face in his hands gently and said, "Thank you." He showered kisses on her. "I swear, I'll do my best to make you happy. I love you, Serena. More than anything else in this world," he breathed. But then a shadow passed over his face, dimming the happy light in his eyes. "Serena... We may not be able to leave town together," he said at last.

"Do you mean you'd want me to go first?"

He smiled a small, rueful smile. "That's exactly what I want. But it'd look too suspicious. I'm gonna have to go first."

"That's okay," she answered. "I trust you, Ray."

"Good. Listen, I know this won't be easy, but you've got to promise me a couple more things. First, that no matter what you hear about me in the next month or so, don't believe it. I'll be all right, I promise. And I'll send for you as soon as I can. Okay?"

She didn't quite know what to think of that, but he took her face in his hands, and looked down at her so with such tenderness that she found herself agreeing, in spite of everything.

"Okay then. There's just one more thing. Promise me you won't tell anyone that we're getting married, or that we're leaving. No one," he insisted. "Not even your best friend. Okay?"

"All right. I promise." But while she didn't know what the specifics of his plan were, she knew the reason for those promises. So despite her happiness, for the second time that night, she was afraid...

Serena blinked, trying to banish the troubling memory. To put it back into the past, where it belonged. We're not in Vegas anymore, she reminded herself. They were far away from the Iguanas. They were safe. And she had to get dressed, had to answer the door. She turned on a light so she could find her robe, and the memory finally dissolved. Still, the thought lingered that it was strange, how the happiest moment of her life had been mingled with fear. But it was true. One dark night in Vegas, Ray had kissed her, asked her to marry him, then frightened her by swearing her to total secrecy about it.

Her mouth curved in a little smile. Still... It was a small price to pay, to have him. Besides, he told me that everything would be all right, someday. And I believed him. But this is our someday, she realized, her smile fading away. At least, it was supposed to be.

Half frightened, half irritated, she pulled on her robe with unsteady hands. She'd thought she was done with being roused out of bed after midnight, done with having to answer the door with her heart in her mouth, afraid it was someone coming to tell her that Ray had been killed. He was out of that terrible life now, and she'd thought things had settled down. That things were going to be all right, like Ray had promised, and like she'd believed. After they came to Chicago, and he took his old job back, that worrisome darkness had faded from his eyes. He seemed happy now, they'd bought a house and they were getting married in a week...

Still, deep down inside, something nagged at her. She couldn't shake the feeling that Ray was still hurting about something. About whatever it was that used to bring him to her door in Vegas at all hours of the night, with a black look in his eyes. She suspected it had something to do with Maxwell. But his beating, bad though it was, hadn't caused it. He'd had it long before that. She'd asked him about that look before, but he'd brushed her questions aside, as he always did. Still, she was anxious enough about it that she'd tried to ask Ben Fraser if he knew what it was all about. She thought Ray might've confided things to him that he wouldn't tell her. But Ray had interrupted them before Ben could say much; and after that, she'd decided not to pursue it with him. After all, if she wanted to know, she really ought to ask Ray.

She sighed to herself. I tried that again, too. Of course, when I did, he told me it was nothing. That he's fine. But she wasn't sure she could believe that. Though she knew Ray wouldn't ordinarily lie to her, she also knew that he was very protective of those he loved. Just as he'd kept silent about his beating, he would probably also hide his emotional pain for unselfish reasons, to protect her.

But she didn't want to be protected -- didn't need to be. She wanted Ray to trust her with his secrets. She was strong enough to handle them, whatever they were. She resolved to ask him about it once more, before the wedding. Make sure that whatever was wrong with him had nothing to do with her. She didn't think so, she felt instinctively that his big, dark secret had something to do with his undercover work, but it wouldn't hurt to make sure. If she was wrong, and he'd gotten cold feet about marrying her or something, she wanted to know that, too.

Meanwhile, she told herself that it might not be Ray at her door at all, so she might be worrying for no reason. As she stumbled to answer it, she blinked to wake herself up. But she was already reaching for the doorknob before full awareness hit, before she realized that at this late hour, if it wasn't Ray, she'd better not open it. She dropped her hand and listened for a moment, her heart beating a little faster than normal, just to see if her unknown caller had given up and gone away.

But as she hesitated, the knocking changed to pounding. She heard the unmistakable sound of a fist thudding against her door, and she heard Ray's voice. "Serena! Serena, please -- open up!"

She flicked on her hallway light and hurriedly unlocked her door, her heart in her mouth. She knew something was badly wrong before she opened it. She heard the Vegas shadows in his voice.

Ray was at Fraser's door at 6:30 that night, late enough to ensure that Ben would be home from work. Maybe because he wanted to surprise him, or maybe because he was afraid Ben wouldn't answer if he knew who it was, Ray didn't knock. He just grabbed the knob and pushed the door lightly, to let himself in.

But the door didn't open. He frowned. This building's old, so the door's probly stuck. Warped. He pushed a bit harder, turned the knob againand met resistance. He jiggled it a third time, frustrated, and pushed harder. But there was no mistake. Fraser's door wasn't warped shut, it was locked.

What gives? He NEVER locks his door.

Ray turned cold. He didn't have a key to Fraser's apartment. He'd never needed one -- until now. Dumbfounded by this sudden change in the Mountie's habits, he stared at the door knob, as the chilling realization that he'd been locked out settled into his bones.

And the shocks didn't stop there. He spotted something unfamiliar just above the doorknob: a bright new, protruding metallic cylinder. A dead bolt! What the hell? He was stunned. Fraser hadn't just locked his door, he'd double-locked it. Sometime after he'd left his apartment in the wee hours of the morning, Ben had had a dead-bolt lock added to it, then locked both it and the original lock.

It seemed Fraser was suddenly determined to keep someone out; and Ray thought he knew who, and why. He closed his eyes as a terrible feeling rushed through him. Remembering how he'd screamed at Ben like a lunatic, cursed at him, how he'd done everything but hit him before he left, he was filled with guilty panic. His whole body went weak, boneless, like his spine had turned to spaghetti. Feeling like his knees were about to give out, he leaned his forehead against the door. Oh no. Oh shit! Ben...

Seconds later, there was a faint noise on the other side of the door. Ray heard the distinctive sound of bolts being turned, and jumped back instinctively. As the door suddenly swung open, he did his best to look cool, calm and collected. Cuz Ben stood there. Dressed in jeans and a checked blue shirt that made his azure eyes look even bluer, he was so gorgeous that the breath caught in Ray's throat.

"Ray!" Ben said. "I thought I heard someone at the door."

But he didn't think it'd be me. He looks too surprised, Ray noted, suspicious. Who was he expectin'? Vecchio maybe? He swallowed hard, trying to hide his fear and jealousy, trying to look like he hadn't just about collapsed into a puddle outside Ben's shockingly locked door. Trying to think what to say next. "Yeah. That was me," he said finally. Then he winced, realizing how stupid that sounded. Duh! That's you all right: Mr. Obvious. What a moron!

But Ben didn't call him on it. With his usual politeness, he just said, "Hello."

"Hi." Ray tried to sound casual, but it was hard, because he saw something strange in Ben's eyes. Just for a second, there was a flash of something that looked like fear. Then Ben blinked, composing himself, and the emotion was hidden behind a familiar, stolid expression. Ray felt a flash of anger. Damn. What does that look mean? Did he talk to Vecchio already? Did he make him cut a deal? Am I already history?

He couldn't tell. But the fact that Ben was hanging back, that he hadn't reached out to hug him, or even smiled, wasn't exactly reassuring. Ray realized he'd been hoping that the distance Vecchio had put between them last night would've evaporated by now, that Ben would be glad to see him. He hadn't expected that he'd act stand-offish and polite, like he was some goddamn stranger. Hadn't known that he'd still be wearing the frozen, mask-like expression he'd put on after Vecchio's attack.

Great! He's still bein' the fuckin' Ice Prince. Friggin' freezin' Arctic Mountie. Terrific.

Now, on top of feeling stupid, he felt angry. Jealous. Terrified. It all bottled up in his throat, and short-circuited his brain. He'd rehearsed what he wanted to say to Ben on the way over, but suddenly, he couldn't remember a word of it. In the absence of his prepared speech, in the face of Ben's coldness, anger felt necessary. Like self defense. Like if he didn't get mad, his face might freeze off, from the chill Ben was generating. He was tempted to let go, to let him have it. Demand to know if he'd actually gone and apologized to Vecchio, even after he'd told him not to, and warm things up with some yelling if he had. But he had just enough self control to beat back that impulse. That'd be stupid. Won't like it if he did, but I don't wanna talk about that now. Did enough yellin' last night. Don't wanna start another fight. Came back to make up with him, not hassle him more about Vecchio.

Tongue-tied, he wracked his brain for conversation. Something, anything that wouldn't make him look like even more of an idiot. Finally, fear gave him the answer. "Yer door," he grated at last. Feeling hopelessly awkward, he tried again. "There's auhanother lock on it," he said, pointing to it. Way too late, he realized that Mr. Obvious had just taken control of his tongue again. Flustered, he added, "I meana new one."

Ben wasn't much help. He was silent for a minute, then he just said, "Yes. Yes, there is."

Ray felt a twinge of frustration. He wasn't the only one who kept stating the obvious. "Uh... when did that happen?" he prodded, hoping the answer would also tell him why.

But Ben just looked away, as if he didn't know what to say.

Ray's heart sank. It was looking more and more like he'd been right. Like Fraser had that lock put on because of him. To keep him out, after his fit of rage over Vecchio's assault. But he couldn't bring himself to come right out and ask him. Cuz if he did, isn't it already too late for talkin' anyway? Wouldn't that mean that it's over?

That thought squeezed his heart like a vise. Uncertainty tore at him. He hated not knowing what was really going on, not being able to read Ben's signals. You'd think after what he'd gone through with Stella, he'd be able to. That he'd have the language of goodbye down pat. That he'd know all the signs, see the handwriting on the wall this time. But he couldn't tell what Ben's silence meant. Is he embarrassed? Pissed? Sorry he ever met me? Tryin' to get rid o' me? Dunno.

The harder he tried to figure it out, the more difficult it got to think rationally. His mouth was dry, and his tongue felt like it was wrapped in cotton. Images of the attack intruded into his mind, distracting him. He saw Vecchio's face again, his cold, determined look as he shoved his gun into his mouth. He saw the reflection of his own death in those icy green eyes. Remembered Ben's face afterwards: cold, remote, unreachable.

Just like it is now.

He'd thought he'd gotten his head clear walking by the lake, but somehow, looking at Ben's face, seeing how distant he still looked, brought everything back with a vengeance. His heart was beating hard, and it took a heroic effort to shove those harrowing memories away, to focus on Ben again. It took everything he had. There was nothing left over, no extra energy available to conjure up magic words to say that would take them past all that. He wanted him desperately, but after last night, he didn't know how to tell him, or if the Ice Prince would even want to hear it. He didn't know if Ben's frozen expression meant that he'd been shut out by more than just his new lock. Didn't know if he'd talked to Vecchio while he was at the lake, and if they'd gotten back together, and shoved him out of the picture. He didn't know where he stood.

In despair, he gave up on trying to talk. Shut his mouth before something even worse came out, and waited, with his heart beating painfully fast, for Ben to answer him. To take up the question he'd dropped like a lead weight between them, and explain that lock that was scaring the hell out of him.

Ben jammed his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet, as if he was equally at a loss for words. "I put it on this morning," he said at last, just when the silence between them threatened to become unbearable.

Ya put it on yerself? Shit! Ray's anxiety grew. He tried to search his eyes to find out why he'd done it, but Ben still avoided his gaze. Ray felt a cry gathering inside of him. Was Fraser looking away because it really was over between them, and he just didn't know how to tell him? His fear intensified. He wanted to protest loudly. No, no! Don't do this! Don't shut me out! Don't! I'm sorry!

But he bit his tongue before the anxious words could spill out, before he started apologizing all over the place for what he'd done after Vecchio left. I had a right to be angry. Vecchio tried to fuckin' kill me! So maybe I said a few things I shouldn't've, got madder at Ben than was fair, but I ain't gonna apologize for goin' off on Vecchio. No way! He wasn't going to beg to be taken back, either, like he'd begged Ben not to leave his apartment that time. Begging was uncool, and much as he loved Ben, he wasn't going to make a habit of that. Though he suspected Ben might melt if he hugged him like he had that day, the thought of doing that to him deliberately, to get something he wanted, made him feel slightly queasy. Trying to manipulate Ben through his love of touch -- that'd be worse than wrong. It'd put him on a level with all the people in Fraser's past who'd used, abused and then left him.

Even if things didn't work out between them, Ray never wanted to be lumped in with them. With the ones who'd abused Ben's innocence.

So he kept his hands to himself, and stiffened his back a little instead. Squared his shoulders, and tried hard to think positive. Maybe I don't need to beg, anyway. Maybe I'm jumpin' to conclusions here. He'd lost Ben once before because he'd done that, because he'd jumped to all the wrong ones. So this time, though patience wasn't his strong point, he forced himself to wait. Not gonna make that mistake again. Not gonna freak out before I got all the facts. Maybe this isn't what I think...

So he just said, "Oh. Put it on yerself, huh? Well. Yer pretty handy there, Frayzh." Stupid, ridiculous, meaningless words that weren't what he wanted to say. Better than beggin' or goin' nuclear again, though. They'll do. But he was hesitant to say more. He wanted Fraser to do some talking now. Needed him to. So he shut up again, scratched his neck and tried to look casual. Tried not to look as scared as he felt, at the news that Ben had installed his new lock with his own two hands. But all he had on the positive side, to balance out that cold, hard fact, were a lot of maybes. Like maybe Ben still loved him. And maybe he'd put that lock on his door for some weird Canadian reason he didn't know about, and not to keep him out.

Yeah, and maybe pigs can fly, he thought sourly.

So he didn't come inside Ben's apartment. Ben's lock made that impossible. Like some goddamn invisible elephant, it filled the doorway between them. He couldn't go past it. Couldn't go around it. All he could do was stand helplessly on his side of it, hating it.

Ben didn't ask him in, either. They just lingered there on opposite sides of the awkward, ominous silence that his shiny new deadbolt had created, unable to look each other in the eye. Ray stared over Ben's shoulder. Ben studied his boots. Ray's feet, like his heart, felt heavy. He tried not to think about what Ben's awkwardness, and his new lock, might mean.

He wished to God he knew what Ben was thinking. But he still didn't have a clue. Ben's Mountie mask was firmly in place again, and he couldn't see through it.

"Ray, you've got to tell me. What happened?" Serena asked.

Vecchio gritted his teeth. He'd hardly even opened his mouth yet, had barely said "Hi," yet Serena already knew that something was badly wrong. He hadn't counted on that. He'd been so freaked out after attacking Kowalski that he'd run to her like a scared rabbit, on sheer instinct. Run in the only direction that seemed to promise safety. But he suddenly realized that he'd been wrong -- again. By coming here, he hadn't found safety. Instead, by forgetting how perceptive she was, he'd risked what little he had left. He'd meant to tell her what had happened. But not that the moment was here, he couldn't. A cold chill cut through him. What was I thinking? I can't tell her. She'll think I'm nuts. He'd lose her, and if that happened, he'd lose everything.

"Nothing," he lied, hating himself for his own cowardice. "Nothing happened. I just wanted to see you--"

"At two thirty in the morning?" Serena interrupted. She should've looked soft and adorable, with her hair tousled and a soft pink robe wrapped around her, but she didn't. Her blue eyes blazed, and all at once, she looked angry. "Stop it, Ray!" she said, moving towards him. "I'm not stupid, you know. I can tell when you lie to me!"

He bit his lip. Worse and worse. Not only had he lied to her, but he'd done it so stupidly that she'd taken it as an insult to her intelligence. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

Serena took a deep breath, as if to calm herself. When she spoke again, she was still angry, but her voice was softer. "We're not in Vegas now. You're not doing undercover anymore, and you promised me that once we got here, you wouldn't keep secrets from me! And I can see it in your eyes, that something's wrong. Something's happened. Something that hurt you. So why won't you tell me what it is?"

She sounded frustrated. Sad. Like she was only angry because his lie kept her from helping him like she wanted to. Vecchio swallowed hard. It hit him with painful force: she didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve a nutty, screwed-up psycho like him. Now that she was close to him, he could see fear mixed with the anger in her beautiful blue eyes. His heart contracted painfully. He hadn't told her a thing yet, and he'd already upset her. He'd never wanted to hurt her, had never wanted this to happen--

But it did. It did, and you'd better deal with it, or you're gonna lose her, his conscience whispered. She's gonna find out anyway. Kowalski's gonna file charges, you know that. The shit's gonna hit the fan. Better if she hears it from you first.

"All right," he said, feeling sick inside. He took her hand. "Come 'mere. Sit down." He pulled her over to the sofa and sat down beside her. "You're right. I do have somethin' to tell you."

She softened at once. Reached over and touched his cheek gently. "Good. It'll be okay, sweetheart. I promise," she said.

Sweetheart. That word undid him. She was the one who was sweet, who was good -- she was like Benny. As gentle as he was, and goddamn near as innocent, too. At least -- as innocent as I used to think Benny was, he reflected bitterly. Now, he knew better. Still, it cut through him suddenly. The pain of losing him. How much Benny had meant to him. How empty his life had been, during that year in Arizona without him. He didn't know what he would've done if Serena hadn't come along to fill that emptiness--

All at once, a disturbing idea arrowed through his mind. He'd been missing Benny, missing him more than he'd thought possible, when he'd first met Serena. Is there a connection? He'd never thought of it before, but there were lots of similarities between the two of them. For starters, they both had dark hair and blue eyes; but it didn't end there. Their personalities were similar, too. Serena's sweet and gentle -- just like Benny. She's smart like him, she even loves classical music like he does. She's just like him, in a lot of ways. Is that what I did in Arizona? Look for some sort of substitute for him? Is that all Serena is to me, just a female version of him? Someone safe, who it's okay for me to love? Did I -- do I -- want Benny that way?

The idea blew through his mind like a freezing gust of wind, shaking him. Threatening the foundations of his self image. It frightened him so much that he instinctively rejected it.

Naw. That's crazy.

But was it? Kowalski had said something like that, implied that he was jealous of him for having sex with Ben. Implied that he'd attacked him because of it. At the time, he'd been so furious that he'd just put it down to an attempt at payback on Kowalski's part. A vengeful lie. But now, somewhere way down deep, he wondered if there was something to it. After all, this was the second time he'd pulled his gun on one of Benny's lovers. Granted, both times, he'd thought Fraser was in danger, but... Is that all it was? Was I just tryin' to save him? Or was I jealous of them?

Doubt tore at him. I know I love Benny -- I mean, loved him as a friend -- but is there more to it than that? Does some part of me want him too? Did Maxwell do that to me? Or was I like that already, and just didn't know it? Did I fall in love with Serena cuz she reminds me of him?

The very idea scared him. That can't be true. It can't. I've always liked women. Hell, I was married! And I'm getting married again. Doesn't matter what I did with Maxwell, I don't like guys! Not like that! He pushed it away. He couldn't deal with it. Not at all. He had too many serious problems as it was. Later, when things had settled down, he knew he'd come back to it. He'd have to, because it would gnaw at him, until he figured it out. But for now, he had to concentrate on more important things.

Like how the hell was he going to tell Serena what he'd done? That he'd almost murdered a cop tonight? Worse, that it wasn't just any cop, but that he'd almost murdered Benny's lover? That his best friend was bisexual? Fear filled him, mixed with frustration. He couldn't tell her about Maxwell, and unless he did, she'd never understand his own part in it. Why he'd made such a terrible mistake...

"Serena..." Feeling helpless, he took her hand in his and stroked it, marveling at her slender, delicate bones. But he also knew in his heart that he was stalling for time. He forced himself to speak, but what came out wasn't the confession he meant to make. "You know I love you?" he asked. But the question was more for his sake than hers; because for the first time since he'd met her, a small part of him wasn't sure of all his reasons for that.

"Of course I do. And I love you, too, Ray. That's why you can tell me anything," she said softly. "We're getting married, and that's what being married is all about. Sharing everything, the good and the bad. Right?"

Her innocent eyes shone into his, and he knew that however mixed up his motives for it might be, he did love her. She meant everything to him. But knowing that only made his fear even worse. She's saying that cuz she doesn't know how bad it is. Oh God, please... I wanna do the right thing here. Don't let me lose her, he prayed. He dredged up a lopsided smile, to cover his terror. "You sound like a Hallmark card," he teased gently, trying to look calm. In reality, every muscle in his body felt taut, strained, as if he wanted to run somewhere. But there was no place left to go.

Serena laughed softly. "Maybe so, but it's true. Isn't it?" She leaned over to kiss him.

When her mouth met his, he knew she was right. It was true; really loving someone meant sharing everything with them, good, bad and indifferent. He'd gotten used to protecting Serena from the dark side of things, but this time, he couldn't. He was going to have to tell her. He had to. Everything except the stuff about Maxwell, anyway. He'd just have to hope that she'd forgive him, that she'd understand without knowing that about him -- and pray that Fraser and Kowalski wouldn't tell her, either.

"Yeah. It's true," he said, when their kiss was done. He held onto her hands, held them tightly, and took a deep breath. "Okay then. Here it is. This isn't easy to say--"

"I know. But whatever it is, you can tell me," she repeated. Her voice was soft, but her gaze was steady.

She's so brave, he thought, admiring her. Brave and pretty and sweet... He wasn't sure he deserved to have someone like her. Or that she wouldn't hate him, and walk out of his life once she knew even part of what he'd done. He tried to think of the right words, the right way to explain what had happened, so she wouldn't think he was crazy. But several minutes passed, and his mind stayed frustratingly blank.

"Ray?"

He looked away. He knew Serena was waiting for an answer, but he couldn't seem to find his voice. No matter how he tried, he couldn't think of a way to explain what he'd done that sounded even remotely sane.

Finally, just when Kowalski thought his frayed nerves were going to snap, Ben finally lifted his head. His mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. Finally, words came rushing out. "I'm so sorry, Ray! I always thought we were safe here with Dief. I never thought--"

"What?"

A dip of Ben's dark head, a faint blush, and then a longer torrent of words. "It just never occurred to me that -- anyone would attack us. Granted, it should have. I live in a rather crime-ridden area, so it should have, I know that. Statistics alone would have indicated -- but I failed to anticipate... I just never expected an attack would come from that quarter. I never thought a friend would -- I told myself that it wasn't really a lie, you see. Something more like a little white lie. Except there isn't really such a thing, is there? Because when a person lies, especially to a friend, there's nothing little about it. It's really a big thing, a dark kind of thing, and--"

Kowalski stared at him. "What?" he repeated, his confusion increasing. What the hell is he sayin'? White an' dark, lies and friends... I don't get it.

Fraser was so upset he was babbling, and that scared Ray almost as much as the new lock on his door. He couldn't even seem to finish a sentence. He was talking in such a disjointed rush that Ray couldn't understand half of it. It sounded like Ben was saying he felt he should've foreseen the attack, that maybe he felt he should've been more security conscious. But after that, he got lost. Had no idea what the Mountie was talking about. It sounded a bit like he was apologizing, but what exactly was he saying he was sorry for?

He shut up again and listened hard, not daring to say anything, just trying to understand Ben's frantic speech. But it was hard to hear over the nervous pounding of his own heart, and it didn't help that Ben just kept talking faster and faster, like some hopped-up junkie.

"Well, you see he'd just gotten back when the subject came up, and he thought you were a she, and I -- wellIjustdidn'tcorrecthim--"

Alarmed at the frantic, increasing speed of Fraser's crazy monologue, Ray held up both his hands, palm outward. "FRASER!" he barked. "Heyheyhey! STOP!"

Ben blinked, his forehead crinkling in obvious distress at Ray's interruption. But for a few seconds, he finally, blessedly, shut up.

Ray breathed a sigh of relief, and lowered his hands. All those words had been making his head spin. "Yer just -- yer goin' too fast for me," he said gently, into Fraser's chastened silence.

Ben nodded, and took a deep breath. "Understood."

"Okay. So try it again. But slower. And in English this time. Okay?"

"All right. What I'm trying to say is, I meant to tell Ray Vecchio about you -- about us -- when he first came back. But before I could, he assumed I had a girlfriend, and I just--"

Suddenly, Ray got it. What all that babble about white lies and friendship was about, and why it had sounded like an apology. "Ya let him think that," he finished for him. "That ya had a girlfriend. Cuz it was easier than tellin' him about me."

Ben's gaze fell to the floor again, his face a study in shame. "Yes," he croaked miserably.

Ray had another flash of comprehension, this time about their fight last night. Maybe there had been more reasons for Ben's distance after Vecchio left than just loyalty to his old buddy. Reasons like guilt. I shoulda known. He always takes everything on his shoulders. Thinks he screwed up. "So now you think what happened to me is yer fault. Cuz o' that," he guessed.

"Yes!" Fraser breathed, with what sounded strangely like relief.

Ray knew where the relief came from. Ben was just glad that he'd finally understood, that what he no doubt considered to be his huge, ugly, earth-shaking lie was now out in the open. He shook his head wryly. He'd never met anyone as innocent as Ben, in all his life. That kinda thing was all I had on my conscience, I could die a happy man, he thought. He knew Fraser wouldn't look at it that way, though. Funny thing was, though, knowing him, he'd probably never really uttered the words "my girlfriend" at all. Because that would've been an outright lie, and Fraser would've figured the heavens would fall, or something, if he did that. "Didja ever actually SAY ya had a girlfriend?" he asked shrewdly.

Fraser shrugged, and swiped nervously at his eyebrow. "Well, no, but--"

Ray smiled a little, inwardly. "So Vecchio just assumed it."

"Yes. But I let him," Ben protested.

Ray shook his head firmly. Time to hit Ben with a one-two punch, knock a hole in the wall of his guilt. "Doesn't matter," he said. "If ya didn't tell him that, ya didn't lie! It's not the same thing. And what happened isn't yer fault. Toldja that."

One, Ray thought. He stopped there. Waited for a minute, to let the message sink in. Watched Ben think about it, watched him struggle with the idea that he might not be the one totally responsible for last night's attack, after all. Okay. Two. "Besides, I can see why ya did it," he went on in a gentler voice. "You two've been friends for a long time. Ya knew it'd be a big shock to him, and ya didn't wanna hit him over the head with it, when he just got back from a bad time undercover. Dat makes sense. I get that."

Ben's eyes widened in a look of mingled hope and disbelief. "You do?"

Ray felt relieved. He'd knocked a hole in Ben's guilt, all right. It was working! Better still, they were talking now. Really talking. Maybe starting to make their way back to where they'd been before Vecchio burst in and loused it all up. And it was what he wanted, what he needed, God, yeah. To give to Ben. To make up for how he'd hurt him last night. To get back together with him. To show him that, in return for all the amazing things Ben did for him, he could do something for the Mountie, too: take away his stupid guilt, that he shouldn't even be feeling but always did. It came to him, in a sharp sort of flash, that maybe that was one of the reasons Ben needed him. To make him feel more human. Less of an outsider.

If Ben still needed him... Please, let him need me. Somehow, anyhow.

Driven to strengthen the tenuous connection he now felt between them, he went on. "Sure. In yer place, I mighta done the same. An' hell, maybe you were right not to tell him then. Ya ever think o' that? I mean, look how he 'snapped' the other night, when he found out -- and he's had months to calm down, to settle back in. Imagine what a hair trigger he mighta had when he first got back to Chicago!"

Ray paused again and watched Ben carefully, to see if he could absorb yet another scenario that didn't involve him being guilty of anything.

Ben cocked his head, and blinked several times in obvious surprise. It was clear that the notion had never even occurred to him. He'd been too busy blaming himself, as usual, for what he saw as his Failure To Do The Right Thing, to even consider that worse things might've happened if he'd acted differently. Ray sighed to himself. He wondered, not for the first time, just who it was who'd taught Ben that everything -- everything -- was always his fault. He'd hoped he was starting to cure him of that habit, but it was obvious Ben still had a long way to go. Still, at least he was thinking about it now. At least he was considering the idea that he might not be at fault, this one time. That was something. So Ray pressed on.

"If ya'd told him we were lovers then, he might not've taken it any better. It might've even been worse. He mighta come lookin' for me when you weren't around. And I wouldn't've seen it comin', either. Cuz, you know, he's a cop. And not just any cop, he's who I was pretendin' to be. I'd been coverin' his back, in a way. So he's the last person I ever woulda thought would try to hurt me. So if he'd come after me, I wouldn't have even suspected anything was wrong. I'd've trusted him, until it was too late."

There. Let Ben try to argue with that one.

Ray watched as Ben's expression went from surprise to quiet speculation to outright alarm. For once, he knew just what he was thinking. He was visualizing the ugly "might've been" picture that he'd just painted for him. Good, he thought. Anything to get him off this guilt trip. But aloud, he just added, "See? So the way I figure it, ya probly did me a favor, not tellin' him at first. At least by the time he found out, his Wiseguy reflexes were a little rusty; and you were there, to talk him out of it."

That, most of all, he thought to himself. He smiled at Ben as he watched him try to absorb all these new ideas. A belated surge of gratitude went through him. This beautiful, nutty, maddeningly complex guy had laid his life on the line for him, had saved his ass last night -- at the cost of his own best friend. He just wished he'd guessed that Ben's silence afterwards hadn't signified indifference, or total withdrawal, or loyalty to Vecchio rather than him, like he'd thought. Knowing the Mountie as well as he did, it should've occurred to him that Ben was wrestling with guilt instead. But it hadn't. His own insecurity had made him leap to the conclusion that Ben was reconsidering their relationship, that he was thinking about getting rid of him, in order to get Vecchio's friendship back.

He was ashamed.

I was a dickhead, he thought. Like they say, actions speak louder 'n words. And when the chips were down, Ben acted. Gave me everything he had. He was naked as a jaybird, he didn't have a gun, but he still tried to jump Vecchio to save me! He risked his life for me. Even told the homophobe that he loves me, when he knew that'd drive Vecchio away for sure. He saved my ass, at the cost of his best friend. Can't ask more from a guy than that.

But he had. Even after Fraser had saved his life, like partners are supposed to, and alienated his best friend in the process, he'd never even said thanks. Instead, he'd punished him, screamed and shouted at him, even come within a hair of punching him, while poor Ben was still in shock. All cuz he'd misread his signals, and didn't realize Ben felt totally, miserably responsible for what had happened. Blowin' up on him like that was stupid. He's the best thing that ever happened to me. Gotta make it up to him. Please, lemme make it up to you, he pleaded in his head as he waited for Fraser to think it all through.

Ben didn't say anything for a minute. When he did, he just said slowly, "You could be right, Ray. It's possible that Ray Vecchio might've reacted even more harshly to the idea of our relationship if he'd learned of it on his return. I just never -- well, that possibility hadn't occurred to me."

Ray smiled with pure relief. For once, Ben had listened to him. Even agreed with him. He felt a thrill of pride, but shrugged it off. After the way he'd treated him last night, he was just lucky that Ben was even willing to listen to a word out of his mouth. He had nothing to get cocky about, and more than a little to make up for. "Hey. Nobody's perfect," he said, hoping he'd understand that he was talking about himself there, too. "Don't think I ever said thanks to you last night, either. Thanks, Ben," he said, holding his gaze. "Thanks for savin' my skinny ass."

Sounded like a joke, but it wasn't. And Fraser knew it. For the first time, Ray saw a little glint in his blue eyes. A hint of real warmth. A thawing of the Arctic chill. "Think nothing of it, Ray," he said softly. "It was my pleasure."

Ray's heart leapt. Was he just imagining it, or had Ben just said something a bit dirty? Something that sounded polite, but really meant that he was still hot for him?

He couldn't tell. Before he could think of anything even remotely hot to say back to him, the warmth vanished. Ben's eyes hooded over again.

Ray's stomach tightened. That chill meant bad news. He knew it. Felt it in his gut.

"But there's something else I want to tell you," Ben went on. "Something ... I need to say. I know you were... angry with me, because I didn't -- because I couldn't--" he faltered, and looked down again. He had to take a deep breath to steady himself. "Because I couldn't come near you last night, afterwards. After Ray left."

Ray could tell that had been really hard for him to say. So despite his fear about where Ben might be going with this, he was honest in return. "Yeah. I was," he admitted.

Ben just nodded. "I wanted to tell you why. It was because not telling Ray about you wasn't the only mistake I made."

I was right. More bad news. Ray held his breath. Was Ben gonna tell him that he was the other mistake? That he hadn't touched him since cuz he didn't want him anymore? Was that it? Had what happened last night put him off for good? Convinced him that having sex with a guy was just too hard? That their relationship was a mistake, after all? His heart kicked into a nervous, racing beat again. Please, no. Don't say that.

For once, his prayers were answered.

"Not locking my door was the other one," Ben said. "It was... stupid, so stupid."

Ray let out a silent breath of relief.

But Ben shook his head, looking pale. "It was gross negligence on my part. You could've been killed. So this new lock is for you, Ray," he said earnestly. "It's so... we can be alone. So you'll be safe. Because... So nothing like that can ever happen again, when you're here with me."

Ray's heart turned over. At last, he understood: Fraser's new lock didn't mean goodbye, it meant just the opposite. It meant Ben was looking out for him, taking care of him, like he always did. Understanding that brought not just relief, but an awareness of his own stupidity. He'd been as blind as Ben, in his own way. It had never even crossed his mind, not once, that he might've put that lock on for his benefit, and not to keep him out. Jeez. It was all he could do to keep from punching himself in the head for being so fucking dumb, about something so important. If Ben hadn't been standing there, he would have.

But he was, so he just mumbled, "It's okay. I get it."

However, it seemed Ben wasn't done apologizing. Not yet. "I still think it was my fault that Ray attacked you," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Not just because I didn't tell him the truth, but because I didn't care enough about your safety, about our privacy, to think of locking my door when we were together. If I'd done both those things, he would never have hurt you. I've just -- I've lived alone for so long, I'm not used to -- well, to being with someone else." Ben blushed. "But I swear, I never meant for that to happen. I never wanted you to get hurt, Ray. I'm so sorry."

Ray could hardly believe it. Ben's eyes were wide, and filled with a fear that matched Ray's own. But he'd been hiding his, hiding his distress and confusion ever since he got to Ben's door. Suddenly, Ben wasn't. The frozen Mountie mask he'd been wearing after Vecchio left, the one that had driven Ray half crazy, was suddenly gone as if it had never been. For once, Ben was letting it all show: his love, his fear, how much he'd been hurt by what Vecchio had done. It was all there in his blue eyes suddenly; and all that raw, naked emotion made him look both desperate and starkly beautiful.

Ray just stared at him for a second, rapt by the sight of Ben with his heart on his sleeve. Looking like a fallen angel. Looking at him like he was the reason he'd fallen.

Ben bit his lip, and asked shakily, "Please, Ray. Can you please -- forgive me?"

Oh yeah.

Ray's relief was so overwhelming, it robbed him of speech. He couldn't say a word, but he was moving before he knew it. Stepping through the doorway, past the new and now wondrous lock. Taking Ben in his arms. Kissing him hard, pressing their bodies together tightly. Ben moaned, a soft, shaky sound of relief as their mouths met. An answering cry came from Ray's throat as Ben's arms wrapped around him in response, holding him just as hard. They stood there clutching each other and kissing frantically, and Ray felt Ben's heart beating fast, painfully fast in his chest. He was just as scared as I was, he realized, stunned. Scared o' losing this, o' losin' me.

That discovery was sweet, like music in his head. Something with a beat. Something he could dance to.

When Ray finally broke the kiss, he couldn't bear to let go of Ben. He held onto him, set his head on his shoulder, pressed his fingers into the muscles of his broad back. "Yeah. I forgive ya. 'S okay," he mumbled, so amazed and relieved he could hardly talk. "Sorry for that stuff I said last night. Sorry I yelled at ya."

"It's all right, Ray. And I'm sorry Ray Vecchio hurt you. That I hurt you. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry!" Ben murmured. "If I ever lost you--" A shudder ran through his whole body, and his hands tightened on Kowalski with near painful force.

Ray didn't mind. The message in that shudder, in those desperately clinging fingers was unmistakable. It was what he'd been waiting for; what he'd wanted to feel last night. Warmth. Love. Apology and acceptance. It was all there, in Ben's pounding heart, his frenzied kiss, his desperate embrace, even in his new lock. It felt wonderful, so good that he forgave him everything in an instant. "Ya won't lose me. And it wasn't yer fault," he said, meaning it. "For not lockin' yer door, I mean. Don't say that. I coulda thought to do that too, okay? But I didn't. And I know how ya feel. I felt stupid too, for forgettin' to turn off the damn light when we went to sleep. Been beatin' myself up for it all day. If I'd done that, he'd never've seen us, and the whole thing wouldn't have happened."

"You can't blame yourself for that, Ray. It was such a small thing--"

"So was forgettin' to lock yer door," Ray pointed out.

After a moment, Fraser nodded quietly. "I suppose so."

Ray was relieved. If Ben wasn't arguing about who'd made the worst mistake anymore, it must mean he'd finally started to give up his guilty conviction that he was the one responsible for Vecchio's attack. In that much, at least, Ray had gotten what he wanted. "Look, we were both careless," he said softly. "Let's just forget it, okay? I don't blame you, you don't blame me. It just happened. Period. Now we gotta get past it."

Ben let out a shaky breath. "Thank you," he whispered. His hands moved through Ray's hair, stroking and petting, and Ray reveled in it. "I was just so scared, so guilty... And I didn't know how to tell you. I just ... couldn't say it."

"Way I remember it, ya tried to explain. But I didn't wanna hear it," Ray said wryly. "Didn't exactly make it easy for ya."

"It's all right, Ray," Ben said softly. "You were frightened. So was I."

Ray nodded. "Ya got that right. But look... The only one responsible for what Vecchio did, is Vecchio. Okay?"

To his surprise, after a moment, Ben murmured, "Yes, Ray."

"And like I toldja, I didn't expect ya to tell him 'bout me, either. None o' his business. But now that he knows, well... We'll work it out, okay?"

Ben exhaled gustily, a deep sigh of relief against his shoulder. "All right. Thank you, Ray."

Ray grinned. Fraser, being obedient for once. Listening to him. Trusting his judgment. Wow. I could get used to that. But he knew better than to say it out loud. "So it's for me, huh?" he asked instead, gratitude softening his voice. "The lock? Ya did that for me?"

Ben nodded. "Yes. Which reminds me..." He let go of Kowalski, walked to his door, shut and locked it behind them again.

Ray smiled. "Wow! That's, uh... cool, Frayzh. Totally cool. Appreciate dat. But I wasn't done yet. I was likin' where we were." He smiled, and spread his arms wide. "Come 'mere," he invited, wondering if Ben was still in obedient mode. If he'd do it.

It seemed he was. Ben walked back to him eagerly, with a small, shy smile of his own. Ray put his arms around him again and squeezed, giving him a full-body hug. Since Benny loved touch (at least in private), it seemed like the best way to thank him for taking him back. Ben must've liked it, because his arms wrapped around Ray instantly, strong and warm, enfolding him again with what felt like gratitude. Ray was grateful too. Damn, this feels good. He let out a breath it seemed he'd been holding for days. Ran a hand over Ben's back, rubbing at the tensed muscles he felt there. Felt his own body relax at last too, in Ben's embrace. Closing his eyes, he breathed in his scents: flannel, Mountie soap and that elusive, fresh, clean smell that was Ben himself. Ray realized that for the rest of his life, he'd associate happiness with that scent. Just like first love would always be Stella's perfume...

"Love ya, Ben," he whispered. "God, I love you." The feeling filled him up until it felt like his body wasn't big enough to hold it. Like he must be radiating a warm, white light, like a million candles glowing. He would've moved mountains, changed the world, given his last breath, for the touch of Ben's hands.

"I love you too, Ray," Ben said fervently. "I missed you."

That was good to hear. "Missed you too." Wondering how he'd ever live without him, hoping he never had to find out, Ray held on tight. "Thanks, Benny Ben," he whispered against his broad shoulder. And he didn't just mean for the lock.

"You're welcome," Ben breathed in his ear.

Ray lifted his head and smiled at him. "That's a relief, ya know? Cuz for a minute there, when I saw that lock, I thought you were sendin' me a message," he confessed.

Ben blinked curiously at him, a delicious little frown between his brows. "What message?"

Ray shrugged. Ben's innocence, his utter cluelessness, told him that he'd never even considered locking him out. That idea had just been his old insecurity, popping up again. Even though Ben had told him he loved him, he still hadn't trusted that. Hadn't trusted him not to lock him out, the first time they had a fight. It embarrassed him, so he tried to make light of his own fear. "Oh, somethin' like, 'Stay out, Kowalski. This means you, ya jerk. Don't come back.' Somethin' like dat," he joked.

Ben cocked his head, the way he always did when absorbing something totally unexpected. "You thought I put the lock on to keep you out?" He shook his head seriously. "Oh, no. I would never do that."

That was good to hear, too. It gave Ray a warm, secure feeling he hadn't known for a long time. Since the early days of his marriage. It'd been that long, he realized suddenly, since he'd trusted someone not to leave him. But now, at last, he trusted Ben not to. It felt so wonderful that it gave him the urge to tease his lover, out of sheer good spirits. "Why not? I can be a jerk sometimes, ya know," he grinned.

Ben shook his head. "You are sometimes impulsive, but never a jerk, Ray," he corrected warmly. "Besides -- knowing your volatile nature and police training as I do, I don't know that locking you out would be a very effective tactic."

Ray frowned. "Whaddaya mean?"

"If I did that, you'd probably just kick the door down," Ben smiled.

Ray grinned. The Mountie was teasing him, and it felt good. "Ya really do know me," he teased back.

All at once, Ben got serious. He reached up and touched his cheek gently. "Yes, Ray," he said. "I do."

Ben wasn't kidding about that. He meant it, and those simple words washed over Ray like the purest sunlight. Like a blessing, a little bit of heaven, dropped right into his lap. Funny, he thought. Usually when people get to know me, they get disappointed. But Ben isn't. He knows me better 'n anyone, and he wants me anyway. Loves me anyway. Amazing.

He didn't deserve it, didn't even know how it had happened. One minute, he was trying to adjust to his freaky new, overly polite Canadian partner with a deaf wolf who thought he was a florist. Next minute, he was giving him his heart and soul. But somehow, it felt right. He'd found the real thing here. The come-hell-or-high-water kind of thing.

Love.

He knew it, because Ben was smiling radiantly at him again. And there was something in his eyes, and in his smile, that made his heart beat faster. He touched his cheek, the lovely curve of Ben's high cheekbone, and stared into his beautiful eyes as he marveled at what he'd done. Ben, who had never locked his door in all his years in Chicago, had put an extra one on it with his own two hands, just to keep him safe. He hadn't locked him out, he'd been trying to protect him. He knew what that meant: Ben still loved him. Ben still wanted him. Ben was still his. He was still Ben's. And nothing else mattered. Not the attack, or their fight, or even fucking crazy Vecchio. Just him. Just this.

Joy rose in him. "Yer right," he said, with a radiant smile. "I would kick it down. For you. I swear, I'd do anythin' for you."

Ben's eyes shone. "And I for you, Ray." He kissed him softly. "But I think I'd prefer it if you didn't kick my door down. At least, not just now," he smiled. Then, before Ray could even process that amazing statement, he ran his tongue over Ray's lips, tracing them sensually. "I just put the lock on it," he added. "But maybe later..." He sounded amazingly wicked. Like maybe the thought of Ray kicking his door down to get to him excited him.

Jesus -- he wants to play Cops 'n' Robbers! Ray thought. Cool! I could go with that. But it stunned him that Ben had thought of it first. Amazing, how Fraser could hide incredibly erotic thoughts behind his transparently innocent blue eyes. Gotta love 'im, he grinned to himself, even as Ben kissed him so enthusiastically that his head whirled.

"'Kay," he whispered back, when Ben let him come up for air. "Later, huh?"

"Mmm. Yes. Later... But there is something you could do for me right now," Ben murmured.

Ray smiled into his kisses. "Bet I can guess," he breathed. He was rewarded by Ben's laughter. He took that laugh into his own mouth, curled his hands around Ben's strong neck and pulled him even harder into the kiss. As their tongues entwined, he caressed his face, his neck, his shoulders, until Ben moaned.

"Now, Benny Ben?"

"Mm hmm." Ben pulled his jacket off, his hands clumsy with eagerness. Ray let him. He started working on the buttons on Ben's shirt at the same time. "Ray, Ray, Ray!" Ben whispered, kissing and sucking at his neck, ardent and beautiful. Ray shivered, half tempted to make him slow down, or he'd never even make it to the bed. But the other half liked it too much -- needed it. So he compromised, and pushed Ben gently backwards as they kissed.

"My Mountie man," he smiled against his lips. "Mine." On feet that were now as light as air, he danced Ben back towards his bed.

"Yes," Ben said as they sank down onto it together.

Ray Vecchio looked into Serena's eyes, despairing that the right words existed that would allow him to explain what he'd done without completely freaking her out. "See, it's like this," he began again awkwardly. Then he stopped, because that sounded so lame. And as he hesitated, another painful speculation crossed his mind. Would a sane guy have attacked someone like that, without a word of warning? Without checking to see what was going on first?

No.

I should've asked Benny, he realized. Should've woke him up, should've asked him what the hell was happening, before I went off on Kowalski like that. I was armed, and they weren't. Even if Kowalski had been blackmailing Benny, I coulda just kept him covered while I got the truth out of Fraser. I didn't have to grab him like that, didn't have to choke him or put my gun in his mouth... It shook him, because that hadn't even occurred to him until now -- almost two hours after the attack. Keeping Kowalski covered while getting the truth from Fraser would've been the logical, rational thing to do. It should've been the first thing he thought of. But it wasn't. He hadn't even considered it, and he knew why.

The shock of seeing them together had totally blown him away. Made him do 'the trick', without even thinking. Without meaning to.

'The trick' was something he'd taught himself to do while undercover. He'd done it the first time he ever had to have sex with Maxwell. He'd just gone away, inside his head. Sent the real Ray Vecchio way deep down inside somewhere, and let the alter ego he'd created, the guy he was pretending to be, take over and do the talking -- and the touching -- for him. And that 'trick' proved so effective that it spread to other things, other situations. Most of the time, he was still Ray Vecchio inside, the cop who was merely playing a role. But when stuff went on that he couldn't handle doing, or even watching, he'd let amoral, ruthless Armando take control. That way, Ray could retain his sanity, and his conscience could stay clear. It was the only way he'd known to get through it. The only way to survive.

Every black, ruthless, contemptible thing he'd done on his assignment -- and there were quite a few -- Ray Vecchio really hadn't done at all. Armando had.

Ray had thought of it, that division of personality, his temporary 'going away', as a mere trick. A kind of mental sleight of hand that had served him well when he was with the Family. Once he left, though, he'd thought it would go away. Just dissolve, along with his nightmares about Maxwell. But it hadn't. Armando had surfaced once when he was talking to Benny, right after he got back. Though it had frightened him, and he'd shut him down as soon as he'd realized what was happening, the Bookman still hadn't entirely disappeared. He'd haunted his dreams -- just waiting for a chance to return, apparently. Because when he'd freaked out at the unexpected sight of Benny in bed with Kowalski, he'd done 'the trick' instinctively. Gone away, because he couldn't handle it. Let Armando take control again; and with his usual brutality, he'd almost killed Kowalski.

All of that -- the way he choked him, and put my gun in his teeth -- that was me letting Armando do to Kowalski what I really want to do to Maxwell. He let go of Serena's hand, and cradled his head in his hands instead. How did I get so messed up?

He dug his fingers into his skull until it hurt. But even the pain couldn't drive away his bleak awareness of what he'd done. He hadn't realized how deeply he'd come to depend on 'the trick' -- that it'd become a reflex. But it was a reflex he couldn't afford anymore. It hadn't saved him this time. It'd probably ruined his life. Maybe it was even sick. He wasn't sure anymore. He'd probably never be able to explain it to anyone, without sounding crazy. And he'd be the one who'd pay the price for what Armando had done to Kowalski. No question.

"Ray, please," Serena said, her eyes pleading with him. "Tell me what's going on!"

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He couldn't think of a way to explain it to her painlessly, couldn't think of any way to soften the blow. For a second, the merest of instants, he felt Armando stir, deep inside of him. Let me tell her, he said coldly. I can make it sound all right. You know that. Ray knew it, all right. Armando was so slick, he could kill your grandma right in front of you, and make you believe he'd done you a favor. But this was Serena. He loved her, and he wasn't going to lie to her -- or let Armando do it, either. He set his jaw, and shoved the temptation away. Get it over with, he told himself fiercely. Just do it, god dammit! Tell her!

Finally, when he felt he could keep his voice steady, he took a deep breath and said, "You're right. Something bad did happen. A few hours ago, I almost killed Ray Kowalski, at Ben's apartment."

Ben Fraser and Ray Kowalski lay wrapped in each other's arms in Ben's little bed. Safe now in the yellow glow of his bedside lamp, behind his locked door, Ray raised himself up on an elbow and looked down at his lover. Ben's eyes were closed, and he looked serene. Happy. It was way more than your average, smug, "I just got laid", guy-type look, too. The stiffness that had tightened his face since Vecchio's attack the night before, the confusion and guilt, were finally completely gone, smoothed out while they were making love. Ben was smiling. A relaxed, happy, even blissful kind of smile that Ray had never seen on his face before they became lovers.

A feeling of awe stole over him. He remembered how he'd been struck by Ben's dark good looks, by their vividness, the first time he ever saw him. It was like someone had put the summer sky in his eyes, and the darkest of nights in his hair. One look, and he'd been captivated. But he realized now that what he'd seen was only his Fraser face. The image he chose to show to the world. His outer shell, shiny yet hardened by time and sorrow. What he was seeing now was his heart. His soul, shining out through his skin, through his naked body that he'd bared and given to him. This was Ben, the essence of him, hidden from the world but offered to him freely. This was radiance. Innocence. Generosity. Strength. Sweetness.

This was beauty to make angels weep.

Ray's eyes were wet, looking at him, and he didn't care.

If he was the only person on earth who made Ben smile like that, who made him feel happy and free, then he'd been blessed, in a mysterious and singular way. It still amazed Ray -- probably always would -- that he could do that for the Mountie. That his love meant so much to him. But the fact that it did meant that he was responsible for other things, too. Like putting things right between him and Vecchio, for instance. For Ben's sake. He reached down and smoothed a lock of dark hair off Ben's forehead, with fingers that were infinitely tender. Touched him until his tears went away, and he could speak past the lump in his throat. "Tell me the truth, Benny Ben," he said softly.

Clear blue eyes opened and met his. Ben smiled up at him. "Of course."

Ben looked so happy, so trusting that Ray found himself reluctant to speak. Even though a question had been burning a hole in the back of his head for hours now, he hated to ask it, hated to bring the whole mess up again. After all, Ben was warm, smiling, and best of all, naked in bed with him. All he wanted to do was keep things that way. Keep on making love with him, making him happy.

But he didn't have much choice. God only knew where Vecchio was, what he'd been up to, and what he was thinking: about him, about both of them. They had to talk about it. Decide what to do about him. It couldn't wait any longer. Still, he had to clear his dry throat before he could get the words out. "I've been thinkin' about what happened... and there's somethin' I gotta know. Maxwell didn't just try to whack Vecchio, did he?" he grated.

Ben's face changed. His smile disappeared, as Ray had feared it would. His eyes darkened and slid away from him, and Ray had his answer, before he even spoke. "No," Ben said finally, in a low voice.

Ray closed his eyes. Ben didn't have to spell out what else Maxwell had done. He'd already figured that out for himself. "Jeez," he muttered. He laid back down beside him and just stared at the ceiling for a minute, temporarily stunned into silence. It was what he'd suspected, but it still rocked him, having that dark truth confirmed. Now I get it. No wonder Vecchio flipped out when he walked in on us together! No wonder he thought it was rape.

He thought of Rylan, and remembered terror, fury, helplessness. The taste of rage mingled with his own blood. Humiliation at the thought of being taken by another man, against his will. It made him feel cold inside all over again, just thinking about it. But he'd been relatively lucky. He'd talked his way out of it. Evidently, Vecchio hadn't been so lucky. Vecchio, the macho homophobe, had been raped. Maybe more than once.

No wonder he's screwed up. And I look like his rapist. Jesus.

Now he understood the hatred in the Italian's green eyes, the cold, deep aversion that he'd seen there when they first met. He'd always thought Vecchio was just a jerk, an asshole who hated him just cuz he was friends with Fraser, or maybe for no reason at all. Now he knew better. For the first time, he actually felt a flicker of pity for him. He'd always thought they had nothing in common, but that wasn't true. Too bad it was something so ugly, but still--

I understand him, he thought, in a way that even Ben can't. Aloud, he said, "So he's probly not a danger to anyone else. Right? Am I right about that?" He had to get clear on that point, before he could decide what to do next.

Ben said, "Yes. I believe so. And he doesn't hate you, Ray. Not really. It isn't you he hates at all. It's Maxwell -- and I think maybe himself, at the moment," he added sadly.

"Yeah. I get that now." Still, he reached out and hunted under the covers until he found Ben's hand. He took it in his and squeezed it gently, a little "thank you" for that.

Ben slipped his arms around him and pulled him close, so that his head was pillowed on his chest. He caressed his shoulder lightly. Ray turned his head and pressed a little kiss into his chest. They lay together silently for a few minutes, both of them remembering what had happened, and grateful that it hadn't been worse; that they hadn't lost each other.

Then Ben surprised Ray by saying quietly, "I'm sorry if I made you feel ... second best. Like I care for Ray Vecchio more than you. I didn't mean to. That... it isn't true. I do care for him. Very much. He's my friend. He's risked his life for me, many times. He's--" Ben paused, searching for the right word. "Well, he's as close to me as a brother."

"Yeah. I know," Ray said, a bit surprised that it no longer hurt as much as it used to. But it didn't. Even after last night. Well, maybe because of last night. Because now he realized that when the chips were down, Ben had picked him, not Vecchio. He'd told Vecchio he loved him, when he knew that would drive his old friend away. Ben had chosen to be with him, had given up the closest thing to a brother he'd ever known, to save him. And since loyalty and friendship were extremely important to the Mountie, that said a lot. It said everything. He'd be a fool to go on being blackly jealous of Vecchio, after all that. "An' it's okay. Don't expect to just have ya all to myself all the time," he added. "I know ya got other friends."

Ben ran a gentle hand through his hair. "But they're just that: friends, Ray. No one else could ever... What I'm trying to say is, you--you're so much more than that. You're--"

"'S okay. I know." Ray smiled, raised his head and kissed his cheek, hearing what Ben was trying to say: I love you more than anyone. It didn't matter that Ben hadn't spoken the words aloud. He'd already told him he loved him, and he could figure the rest out. Hear the words anyway. Feel them, in the way Ben held him close. That was enough.

He laid his head back down on Ben's chest. "Didja talk to him yet?" he asked quietly, letting Ben know he didn't mind anymore. That he understood about that, too.

Ben shook his head. "No. He didn't come to work today, so I went back to the Consulate. I didn't see him."

Ray was surprised on both counts. Despite the Italian's nuclear meltdown the night before, and his own violent objections to the idea, somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd imagined that Ben had met Vecchio at the 27^th that morning, as per usual. That he'd tried to make things up with him. It surprised him that Vecchio hadn't at least called to try to persuade Ben to dump him, so they could go on being friends. Then again -- maybe he was being paranoid. Vecchio had been furious last night. Ready to kill. He won't get over that in one day. No way. So it wasn't all that surprising that he was avoiding Ben.

Still, Ray wasn't sure if he was glad or sorry about that, because he didn't know what Vecchio's motives for it were. Was he still just royally pissed off and disgusted, or had he snapped to a degree even he and Ben didn't suspect? Flipped out so completely that he couldn't even go to work? It worried him.

After a brief pause, Fraser surprised him again. "I thought of calling him, but I knew you wouldn't want me to, so I didn't. I wanted to discuss it with you first."

Ray was shocked. It was one of the few times he could ever remember Fraser deferring to him, even temporarily, about something he wanted badly. When it came to helping someone Ray thought didn't need, or want, to be helped, Fraser usually never, ever listened -- to him, or to anyone else, for that matter. He just did whatever he thought was best. But not this time. Not even to get his best friend back.

Wow. Things have changed, he thought, pleased. He's changed. And the incredible thing was, he'd never asked him to. Fraser had done it on his own; because he wanted to. It was obvious that he meant something to Fraser now -- more than he ever had before.

He felt those candles shining inside him again. "Thanks, Ben," he said. "Appreciate dat."

"You're welcome, Ray. And about the attack... What Ray did -- I know he only meant to protect me, but it was wrong. I know that. I don't want you to think I would condone anyone committing violence against you. So if you still want me to sign a complaint with you, I will," he said quietly.

Ray blinked. Last night, it had nearly killed Ben to say those words. Now, he meant them. Ray was both surprised and deeply gratified. Perversely though, now that Ben had said he was willing to sign a complaint against Vecchio, he found he didn't want him to anymore. Didn't need him to. Just knowing he was willing to was enough. Maybe that was all he'd ever needed: just to know that Ben's loyalty was to him. That he wouldn't sit back and let anyone hurt him, not even his old buddy Vecchio.

Naw. You were jealous. Afraid of losing him, his conscience whispered. Ya wanted him to sign that complaint against Vecchio so much cuz ya thought that would split them up, permanent. Ya wanted him all to yourself.

Ray sighed inwardly. Okay. So I was a selfish, insecure jerk. But he didn't feel that way anymore. What was more, maybe now, he could make up for it. Because now that he knew what'd really made Vecchio lose it so completely, and that it wasn't personal, that it had to do with a psychopath in Vecchio's past, he didn't hate him for it any longer. He understood it better, because he also knew how angry being raped could make you. Hell, he'd come within a hair of beating Rylan to death with his bare hands, just for trying it. He could imagine the rage Vecchio must be carrying around, since he had been a victim. He also knew how that kind of rage could warp your perceptions. Cuz after what Rylan had done to him, if he'd walked in and seen someone doing something to Ben that had looked even remotely like rape, he'd have gone berserk himself.

Even though Vecchio hadn't actually seen him doing anything sexual with Ben, Ray figured that the shock of finding them in bed together, plus the fact that he looked like Vecchio's rapist, combined with the Italian's friendship for Ben, had combined to set him off anyway. Fraser had tried to tell him that right after it happened, but he hadn't known the whole story about Vecchio then, so he hadn't wanted to listen. Now, it made sense to him.

Vecchio had attacked him as much out of love for Ben as from rage. He got that now, too. Ben had tried to explain that to him before as well, but he'd been so furious that he hadn't wanted to admit it -- or to admit that it mattered. He'd known that Vecchio's feelings for Fraser had kept him from pulling the trigger, but he hadn't wanted to believe that they'd provoked the attack, too. All he'd wanted to see was his anger and homophobia. Now that he knew Vecchio's secret, and now that Ben had made love to him again and kissed away most of his rage and pain, he saw things differently. Saw Vecchio's good side, too. Saw that he'd done it to protect Benny the innocent -- just as he would've, if the situation had been reversed.

He'd gone from hating Vecchio's guts and wanting him to rot in prison, to putting himself in his shoes. Actually feeling a bit of compassion for him. Seeing that they both had a similar need to protect Ben. All in the space of one day.

He shook his head. Mountie magic, he thought wryly. Has to be. If anyone could make him see something good in Vecchio, it was Ben. He raised himself up on one elbow again, and softly traced the shape of Fraser's lips with a gentle finger. "Dat's okay," he said quietly. "Ya don't haveta do dat. But I wanna talk to him, okay?"

Ben frowned up at him. "You? Do you think that's wise, Ray?"

A polite way, Ray knew, of asking if he could possibly restrain himself long enough to actually have a conversation with Vecchio, instead of beating him to a pulp. He grinned. "'Fraid I'll open up a can of whup ass on him?"

"Yes."

He laughed. "Not dat I won't want to, butI won't."

Ben pursed his lips doubtfully. "Maybe I should go with you, Ray."

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't trust me as far as ya can throw me. Izzat it?"

"No. I mean--" Ben blinked. "Why would I want to throw you, Ray?"

Ray shook his head with a rueful smile. "Never mind."

But for a second, he considered letting Ben come along with him. Then he remembered how anguished he'd been after the attack, how conflicted and guilty, and decided against it. He'd only just managed to get him back on an even keel, and happy again. If he saw Vecchio, and the Italian spewed a lot of homophobic shit all over his innocent head, Ben might take it way too much to heart. Get really hurt, all over again. Ray figured he could handle it better. He and Vecchio had never been friends, and after trying to murder him, there wasn't a whole lot more he could do to hurt him.

"Just lemme go see Vecchio, okay? Promise, I won't lay a hand on him. But I wanna talk to him alone. I think we need to talk this out, ya know? I'm the one he's really got a problem with, not you. You just got caught in the crossfire there."

Ben opened his mouth to protest, but Ray waved a hand. "I know, he told ya not to come near him anymore, and not to come to his wedding, but I think that was just fear talkin'. Think he was scared we'd figure it out, ya know? What Maxwell did to him, I mean. He's embarrassed. Maybe he's even afraid o' who we might tell, cuz he's gettin' married next week. Ten will get ya twenty, he never told his fiancée that he was raped."

Ben nodded. "Knowing Ray, I'm sure he didn't. He wouldn't want her to be hurt by it."

Ray had to bite his tongue at that. That might be Ben's take on it -- he always thought the best of people. But he figured the macho Italian might have other, far less noble reasons for keeping quiet. Embarrassment, for one. He might not want his girlfriend to think he was a candy ass wimp who'd been overpowered by another guy. Or, homophobe that he was, he might even be afraid that she'd think he was gay if she knew, or that he might have AIDS. He was probably afraid he'd lose her if she found out. But he didn't tell Ben that. It was possible that Fraser was right, after all -- he knew Vecchio a helluva lot better than he did. Plus, Vecchio hadn't thrown him down onto the floor naked, and shoved a gun in his mouth, either. Bit easier for Fraser to be objective about the creep, he thought wryly.

He pushed his resentment carefully aside before he spoke again. He was trying like hell to be positive, for Ben's sake. "I think that's why he said don't come. Cuz he doesn't want her to know. Once I tell him he doesn't need to worry, that we won't say anything, he'll probly be okay with it." Ray wasn't really convinced of that, but he was determined to put the best possible spin on the situation, for Fraser. He knew how much he wanted to go to Vecchio's wedding, despite what he'd done.

But rather to his surprise, Ben didn't focus on the idea of getting reinvited to the wedding. Instead, he said, "You won't tell anyone, Ray?" He sounded vastly relieved and surprised.

Small wonder. Ben knew how enraged he'd been, and he still didn't know how close he'd come to sharing Vecchio's fate. So he couldn't know that he understood Vecchio now, at least in one way, and that he had good reasons not to humiliate him by revealing his secret. That he still had a big, dark, whopping secret of his own, named Rylan.

Ray looked away, troubled by his own continued silence about him. He'd gotten mad when he'd found out Fraser hadn't told him the truth about Victoria before. But wasn't he doing the same thing by not telling him about Rylan's rape attempt? By concealing his fear that guilt over it might've led Pat to commit suicide in that alleyway? How was that different? He shook his head, guilty about his inconsistency. "Naw. I figure what Maxwell did to him is his business," he said tersely. "Nobody else's." He hoped Ben would let it go at that.

But he didn't. He smiled, and lifted a hand to stroke his shoulder. "Thank you," he said. "You're a very good person, Ray."

There was such gratitude in his voice, such admiration in his eyes, that Ray had to look away again. It made him feel small. Ben thought he was being noble. He wasn't. Not at all. He was just showing some compassion towards a fellow victim, cuz he'd been there himself. As close as he ever wanted to come, anyway.

I should tell him, he thought, for the hundredth time. Tell him the truth. Now that he knew Ben wasn't going to leave him if they disagreed about something, it was safe, wasn't it? But just as he gathered his courage, Ben's face slowly darkened, until he looked positively gloomy. Kowalski shut his mouth, because he had a pretty good idea why. They'd been talking about Vecchio, so it was a good bet that Ben had probably started thinking about his former partner's ultimatum again. Why he'd cut him out of his life. Despite what he'd just said about Vecchio's fiancée, Ben had to know that fear of having his secret revealed wasn't Vecchio's only motive for doing that. It probably wasn't even his main reason. Them being bi was probably the big issue there. Good Catholic boy that he is, Vecchio doesn't want a couple of perverts in the church when he gets married. The thought brought a surge of anger. But he was trying to be hopeful for Ben's sake, so he didn't mention it. Wasn't like he needed to anyway. From the look on his face, Ben knew it as well as he did.

Still, it was one more reason not to bring up his near rape. He told himself that he didn't want to upset Ben any more than he already was. But he'd told himself that before on several occasions, that he was withholding the truth for Ben's sake. Was it true, or was that just a convenient excuse? Who am I tryin' to protect here? he asked himself. Him or me?

He wasn't sure. Wasn't even sure what he was really so scared of. After all, Fraser already knew some of the bad stuff. Knew that Rylan had done kinky things to him, that he'd let him do it. And though he hadn't liked it, he hadn't freaked. So why was he so afraid to tell him about the rest? He wondered if his reasons were the same ones he suspected Vecchio had, for keeping quiet. Was he scared that Ben would think less of him if he knew? That he'd think he was a wimp, cuz Rylan had overpowered him? Or worse, that he'd think he somehow caused the attack? That he was a slut, that he'd as much as asked for it, cuz he and Rylan had been having sex before that?

Or was he afraid Fraser the good, Fraser the upright and honorable, would blame him for having caused Rylan's death? That Fraser might feel, as he did, that Rylan had gone nuts in that alley because he loved him, and because he felt so guilty about what he'd done to him? Would Ben think Rylan might've died trying to make up for his rape attempt? And if so, would that change Ben's feelings for him? Maybe even drive him away?

That thought brought fear: cold, dark, wrenching. That's it, he realized. That's what scares the hell outta me. Fraser wouldn't leave me for some little thing, I know that -- but that ain't no little thing. It's big. Hell, it's huge. Would he leave me if he thought I caused my own partner's death? Given Fraser's sense of honor and duty, it seemed possible. Ray shifted uneasily, just thinking about it. He'd shoved the whole mess aside while trying to get Fraser back, but he hadn't forgotten it. He couldn't. His sadness and guilt over Rylan's death lay deep in him still. Even the happiness he'd found with Ben couldn't dispel it. Sometimes he woke up late at night, feeling like someone had piled bricks on his chest. Like it was strangling him, like he couldn't breathe. He wanted to tell Ben about it, he knew he should, but he still couldn't force the words out. They'd been through so much together, come so far -- he couldn't lose him now. It would kill me.

But wasn't keeping terrible secrets from someone you loved that much a kind of death?

Ben suddenly looked up at him earnestly. "Would you do me one more favor, Ray?"

Ray tensed. Had Ben somehow read his mind? Did he know that something was still bothering him? Did his guilt show on his face? Well -- if it did, he'd have to come clean. He made up his mind to that much. If Fraser asked him straight out about Rylan, he wouldn't lie. He would tell him. So he braced himself and said, "Sure. Anything." His voice was hoarse with fear, but Ben didn't seem to notice.

"When you talk to Ray Vecchio, would you tell him he needs to get counseling? Even insist on it."

Ray smiled wryly, so relieved that he almost laughed out loud. "Great minds think alike."

"What?"

"I mean, I already thought o' that."

"Ahh."

"Vecchio's got a few screws loose -- ya said so yerself. So maybe goin' to a shrink would help. Keep him from 'snapping' again."

"I think so," Ben nodded. "I hope so. But I'm not certain he will agree."

Ray shrugged. "Well, you've known him a lot longer than I have. Why d'ya think he didn't come to work today? Think he was scared I'd charge him with assault?"

Ben shook his head. "No. Ray isn't a coward. I think it was guilt he was feeling, rather than fear," he said softly. "He wouldn't admit it, but I suspect that he felt too guilty to face me."

Ray nodded. "Could be." And he ain't the only one, he thought with a pang. But he forced himself to forget about Rylan again for now, and think of Ben and Vecchio instead. "You guys have been best friends for years -- and he had to know he hurt ya. And despite what he said, I think that still matters to him. So him playin' hooky, that's a good sign, see? It could mean he knows he was wrong already, knows how screwed-up he is, and that he needs help. So maybe he'll go along with seein' a shrink."

Fraser nodded thoughtfully; and for the first time, a trace of genuine hope lightened his expression. "Perhaps. You could be right, Ray."

"Hope so. I'm gonna try, anyway. If I go and talk to him, tell him we're not gonna press charges, maybe it'll help smooth things over between you guys, too. I'll try to get him to talk to ya. And if he does, like I said, maybe he'll be okay about us goin' to the weddin' after all." Ray tried to make the words sound casual, even smooth. Like he even wanted to go to Vecchio's damn wedding, after what he'd done. Like it didn't chap his butt to ask him for anything, let alone his acceptance of them. Though he understood Vecchio's motives a lot better now, and he even agreed with Fraser that he'd meant to protect him, it didn't mean that he'd forgiven him for his lame-ass assumption that he was a freaking blackmailer/rapist -- or for shoving his goddamn gun in his mouth and choking him, either. No way. He didn't want to kill him anymore, he was even sorry he'd been raped, but he still didn't like him, or give a damn what the other Ray thought of them.

Ben did, though. He knew that. Being Vecchio's best man meant a great deal to him; being his friend meant even more. So even though he'd almost killed him, Ray would go find the crazy Italian, try to smooth things over, and make him get some help. It was that simple.

Ben looked at him, his big blue eyes filled with wonder. "You'd do that for me, Ray?" he asked. The near awe in his voice told Ray that he'd seen through his casual pretense. Ben knew exactly what it had cost him to say that; and that it would cost him far more to do it. And he was amazed that he was willing to.

Ben's amazement made Ray feel bad. He shook his head. Ben the Crusader, champion of the poor and downtrodden, who was so kind that he helped little old ladies cross the street on a daily basis, and anyone else who needed it as well, was almost stunned by someone offering to help him. Especially with something difficult. Though Ben didn't realize it, that said a lot about him. It always shocked Ray, being shown how lonely Ben must've been for most of his life. How little it seemed he'd gotten in the way of nurturing or affection. He knew his Mom had died when he was little, and that his Dad hadn't hung around much after, that he'd left him with his grandparents, who weren't exactly warm and cozy people. So he guessed Ben had learned young not to look for that. Learned to be totally self sufficient.

But it pained Ray to think the trend had continued even into his adult life. Because Ben's stoicism was both a strength and a weakness. Sure, Fraser was really capable, strong and smart and all that. The strongest person Ray had ever known. But he was still human, and sooner or later, every human being on the planet needed help. Needed someone to lend them a hand. But Ben had learned not to ask for that, no matter what. Been taught to handle everything himself, and not to ask for help -- or to look for affection, either. And he'd learned the lesson so well that Ray wondered if anyone else had ever seen past his perfect, confident front, and held out a hand to his Mountie when he was lonely, or in trouble. He hoped Vecchio had, but it was hard to tell. Though he knew Fraser practically worshipped him, Vecchio didn't strike Kowalski as a real giving type of guy; and knowing Ben, he probably hadn't asked much of him along those lines. He probably risked his life in dozens of nutty ways goin' after bad guys, but wouldn't dream of askin' him to take him to a doctor if he was sick. That'd be Fraser.

It made Ray feel, for the umpteenth time, how important it was for him to give to Ben, to shower him with affection, as no one else ever had. That might've seemed like a chore to some people, but it suited him just fine. He loved doing stuff for him, wanted Ben to get used to having him in his corner, too, to start relying on him in his personal life like he had when they used to chase bad guys together. He wanted to show him that where he was concerned, costs didn't matter, cuz he loved him. Talkin' to Vecchio will be a helluva lot easier than movin' a mountain, or sheddin' my last drop of blood, he thought. But I'd do that, too. For you.

He didn't want to make a big deal out of it, though, cuz then Ben might try to talk him out of it. So he just shrugged and said, "Sure. Can't have Vecchio wanderin' around Gotham City tryin' to kill everyone ya sleep with, can I?"

But Ben didn't let him shrug it off with a joke. He reached up and pulled his head down for a tender kiss. "Thank you," he said quietly for the second time, his eyes shining as he stroked his hair. "Thank you very much, Ray."

For a moment, Ray was so touched that he couldn't speak. When he found his voice again, he made another joke. "Well, now don't go thinkin' I'm doin' it for free," he teased. "Cuz I'm not. I might take it out in trade, ya know," he said, to cover how Ben's gratitude moved him. To cover just how much he really did love him. How he was crazy with it. Crazy for him.

"In trade?" Ben blinked at him, and cocked his head in the way he always did when someone said something that totally confused him. Ray just grinned at him. After a moment, Ben's brow cleared. "Ahh," he said. "You mean, like this." He pulled Ray's head down and kissed him again.

Ray grinned down at him wickedly. Slid over on top of him again, working his hips so that their cocks brushed. "No. I was thinkin' more like that!"

Ben laughed. Actually laughed out loud, the way he seldom did. The way he'd done that day when he was walking with Ray Vecchio. The laugh Ray had been so jealous of, that he'd wanted for himself. Now I got it. Got him. Ray felt a flush of triumph. Awesome.

When Ben's laughter quieted, he smiled up at Ray. "That would be good, too."

Ray smiled back at him, and rocked his hips a little more. "Just good?"

Ben's hands settled possessively on his hips. "No. It would be great, Ray. Wonderful. Stupendous. Amazing. Splendiferous--"

"Splendi what?" Ray interrupted, laughing. Ben knew more words than anyone he'd ever met, and he suspected that if he didn't cut in, he'd go on like that for the next half hour. "Never mind. Forget I asked. How 'bout just sayin' we can do it anytime I want? I'd settle for that."

Ben nodded happily. "Done."

"Cool," Ray grinned.

That made everything all right. Even having to go talk to Vecchio, to try to work things out with him. As long as Ben laughed like that for him, as long as he held him tight, he could do anything. Move a mountain? Child's play. Change the world? He could do it in his sleep. Ray bent to kiss him again, and he wasn't thinking about Vecchio anymore. He was just hungry, like always, for Ben's lush mouth.

As his anxiety rose, Ray Vecchio got to his feet and began pacing. Serena stared off into space, her face still wearing the numb look of shock it had taken on when he'd told her what he'd done. He didn't blame her. It was no more than he'd expected. If anything, he'd known the shock of it would be even worse for her, because she was gentle and sensitive. Still, seeing that look on her face was tearing him up inside.

"I just don't understand, Ray," she said softly as he strode up and down the floor in front of her couch. "I know you say you thought you were protecting Ben, but--"

"I was!" he yelled. "I told you! I came in and saw Kowalski in bed with Ben. Layin' there half on top o' him. And Benny's so straight, I thought--"

"I know what you thought," Serena said quietly. "You said you thought he'd blackmailed Ben into sleeping with him. That he was really raping him. Forcing Ben to have sex against his will. I understand that, so please don't shout."

Ray took a deep breath, tried to draw air into lungs that felt starved of oxygen. It didn't help much. "Sorry," he grated.

"I just -- I'm a little unclear as to why you thought Kowalski was raping him," she went on. "You said they were asleep when you came in."

Serena sounded as confused as he felt. Still, she'd somehow hit on the worst part of the whole mess. The thread that led to Armando, and then to Maxwell. To the one place that he didn't want to go. To the darkest things he'd ever had to do. He strode faster, jingled the change in his pocket with sweating hands, trying to think of a way to explain it to her that wouldn't involve mentioning his affair with Jimmy. On the drive over here, he'd been so upset that he'd even considered telling her the truth about that. But now that it came down to it, he couldn't. Couldn't confess the sick things Maxwell had done to him, and forced him to do. How the hell did you explain something like that to the woman you loved?

He couldn't, so he skirted the truth. "I dunno, it just happened so fast... Like I told you, I just went there to drop off the sheet music, like ya asked me. But he didn't answer the door, so I slipped in to leave it on the table, and that's when I saw them. There was a light on, a sorta dim one, a little lamp by his bed. At first I thought Benny was with a woman. So I was gonna leave, just get out so they wouldn't know I was there. But Benny's not exactly this big ladies man. Wouldn't know it to look at him, but he hardly goes out at all. Ever. So seein' him with someone, it really surprised me. I got curious. Had to look to see who she was. Then, when I saw that it was a guy, I just -- lost it. It seemed to me like he must've been forced into it, cuz Benny's as straight as they come. At least, I thought he was. Well, you've met him!" he said desperately. "You've seen how he is! He's a total chick magnet. Plus, he's like a choirboy! Who in the hell woulda ever thought that he'd turn out to be a fag?"

"Stop it, Ray!" Suddenly, Serena was angry. She stood up and came towards him, her face flushing with it. "Don't you realize what you're doing? You're trying to justify this -- this terrible thing--"

"I was tryin' to PROTECT him!" he insisted, his voice rising again in spite of himself.

"I know. But that doesn't make it right!" she countered. "You came into his apartment late at night, without knocking--"

"I didn't knock cuz I thought he'd be asleep! I didn't wanna wake him up--"

"I know that, but you still came in without his permission. Without him even knowing you were there. Then you assaulted his lover! And now you're trying to tell yourself that it's okay because Benny isn't what you thought he was. You can't really believe that!"

Ray didn't answer her. He bit his lip and looked away. He was so agitated he was breathing hard, and he still couldn't get enough air.

"Please, tell me you don't believe that, Ray," Serena pleaded.

The disbelief, the disappointment in her voice stung him. Put him even more on the defensive. So he tried to put the blame back on Fraser. "Don't you see?" he hissed. "He lied to me! All those years, all that time -- I thought he was my friend! I thought I knew him!"

"He IS your friend! You do know him!" she insisted. "Just because you didn't know that one thing about him, it doesn't negate all the rest. Ben's a good person, anyone can see that. I consider him a friend now, too--"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't! Cuz a good person wouldn't've lied to me! Not about that!" he shot back, his fury rising as his sense of betrayal revived.

"Why do you suppose he did that, Ray?" Serena replied, her hands on her hips, her eyes frosty. "Why?"

He set his jaw. "Cuz he's ashamed of it! Cuz he knows he's a pervert! That's why."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"I'm not. I don't think Ben is a pervert, and I don't think he believes he is. I think he knew that YOU would think so. There's a difference."

He snorted derisively, rejecting the idea.

But Serena stuck to her guns. "Don't you think he might've kept it to himself because he knew how you'd react? After all, Ben knows you better than anyone, Ray. And wasn't he right? Because look what happened when you found out!"

Those words stung him, like the whip Maxwell had once used on his back. Part of him knew that she was right. But he couldn't give in, couldn't let her know. So he turned the tables again, placed the responsibility for what had happened back on Fraser. He paced past her, ran a shaky hand over his hair. "Are you sayin' it was right for him to lie to me? To his best friend? Not to tell me what he really is?"

Her mouth tightened with frustration. "No. I'm asking you to try to understand why he did it! He loves you, Ray! Loves you so much that he couldn't bear to lose you by telling you the truth!"

Hearing that was even worse. If Benny had lied to him out of shame, it would've been easier to cast him aside, to reject him. But thinking he'd done it just to keep his friendship made him deeply uncomfortable. Benny was a good person, probably the best man he'd ever known. He'd never known Fraser to shrink from blaming himself if he thought he'd done wrong -- far from it. Hell, the Mountie was so honest that he filed reports on himself, if he thought he'd screwed up! So if he didn't think there was anything wrong with the way he was, wasn't it just possible that he might be right? And didn't that make him a bigot? A bigot who'd forced his best friend to hide who he really was, just so he could feel comfortable around him?

It cut like a knife, thinking that Ben might've been doing that for years. He loved Benny too -- at least he had. No, I still do. That was the bitter truth of it. He still cared for him, even after he'd tried to kill his lover. He groaned to himself. Shit. This is such a mess. I don't know what to think. What I should do...

He swung away from Serena, confusion and pain roiling in him. I love Fraser so much I might've fallen for her because she reminds me of him, he thought, anguished. But now he's gone. I lost him. I can never look him in the eye again, after what I did. Knowin' what he is.

Finally, he said harshly, "That doesn't matter anymore. Knowin' he's gay, or bi, or whatever the hell he is -- I can't take it. He said he loves Kowalski. Loves him! Can you believe that?" Before she could answer, he shook his head bitterly. "I told them not to come to our wedding. Told Fraser I never want to see him again. We're not friends anymore. We never will be. We're not even partners anymore."

He heard Serena suck in a shocked breath. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then at last, she said quietly, "I see."

Her tone worried him. "See what?"

"You barred a friend of mine from our wedding, without even asking me. You're upset that Ben lied to you, but when he told you the truth about himself, told you that he was in love, you rejected him completely. You attacked his lover, insulted both of them, and cut them out of your life."

"That's not what happened!" he protested.

"Isn't it?" Serena asked.

He opened his mouth to deny it, then shut it again.

"It seems to me that you want me to say all of that is okay. But I can't. All of a sudden, Ray, I'm not even sure that I know you!"

Serena sounded stricken. Ray turned back to look at her, stunned. He'd never stopped to think how she would feel about him telling Benny not to come to their wedding. He'd never dreamed she'd still want him to, once she knew the truth. But it seemed that, although Serena was Catholic like him, she didn't think Ben and Kowalski were perverts. Not at all. She'd used the word 'friend' to describe Ben, used it deliberately. She was actually angry with him for barring them from the wedding! He was so taken aback that for a minute, he didn't know what to say. How to answer her.

She was white with anger and sorrow. She looked sadder than he'd ever seen her. But most of all, she looked far away. Like she'd left him already, though she was only a few feet away. Fear clawed at his gut. This was what he'd feared the most -- losing her. "What is this? Are you choosing sides?" he snapped, so frightened that he tried to cover it with anger.

Serena shook her head. "You should know me better than that, Ray," she said.

The quiet rebuke silenced him more effectively than a slap would have. He did know her better than that. Serena was always fair and good to people. He was the one who wasn't, who was so screwed up he'd tried to kill someone. Again, he shut his mouth.

"I imagine," she added unsteadily, "that either Ben or Ray Kowalski will file charges against you for this, won't they?"

God, it was hard to meet her eyes. Harder still to tell her the truth, but he did it. "Yeah. Kowalski will, I'm sure. He said he was going to." He didn't bother adding that he had the right to. They both knew it.

She shut her eyes for a minute, her face registering the pain of that knowledge. He held his breath. This was the moment that would make or break him. He felt it instinctively. If she was going to leave him, it would be over this. But when she opened her eyes again, her gaze was steady. "I'll stand by you, Ray, I promise. I love you, and I won't leave you," she said.

He felt such a huge, dizzying surge of relief at her words that he wanted to grab her and kiss her. Only his knowledge of her anger kept him from moving. His fear that if he tried to touch her, she'd push him away. So he just said, "Thank you," instead.

"But I don't think what you did was right. It was terrible," she said, her face pale and drawn.

His heart sank. This time, he was the one who closed his eyes. "I was trying," he said hopelessly, "to protect Benny. I really was."

"I know that," she said softly. "I believe you, Ray."

He bowed his head, feeling a tiny thread of relief under the dark, heavy weight of his anger and guilt. That was something, anyway. He'd known this was going to be awful, that it might break her heart -- and maybe his, too. But at least she'd given him that much: she didn't think he was a total, evil scumbag. At least she wasn't going to leave him.

"But it doesn't change the fact that you assaulted Ben's lover," she went on painfully. "I'm not going to ask you to turn yourself in, Ray. That wouldn't be fair, when you thought you were protecting Ben. But until you at least apologize to him and Ray Kowalski -- until you talk to them about this and at least try to set things right, I won't marry you. I can't."

The floor felt out from under him. The relief he'd felt vanished. He couldn't get his breath. "What?" he asked faintly. This was his worst nightmare, coming true. He'd told her the truth -- at least as much of it as he could -- and now he was losing her. She was asking for the one thing he couldn't do, and making that the key to having her. She'd said she wouldn't leave him, but he couldn't apologize; and if he didn't, and she wouldn't marry him, how could he live with himself?

She shook her head. "I won't marry someone who's full of hate," she said. Her voice was strained, but final. "I won't do it. I left Vegas to get away from people like that. So did you. I don't want to see you become like them. Like Maxwell."

At that, a black, howling fury roared through him. He thought of how Maxwell had beaten him half to death, then raped him while he lay there floating in and out of consciousness. He thought of all the people he'd crushed to death with his car, all the victims whose lives he'd taken so ruthlessly. Serena didn't know about that, at least not about what Maxwell had done to him, but even so... That she'd compared him to that monster stabbed him to the heart. His vision clouded over, and his fists clenched. "I'm -- not -- Maxwell!" he ground out, through clenched teeth. "I'm NOT -- A FREAKIN' -- MURDERER!"

Serena swallowed hard, but she didn't look away from him. "I know you aren't. I didn't mean to suggest that. But you're not the Ray Vecchio I fell in love with, either," she said sadly. "That man wouldn't do what you just did. Wouldn't hurt his best friend and someone he loves like you just did, then try to tell me it's okay because his friend turned out to be bi. I just--" Her voice broke, and for a minute, he didn't think she was going to be able to finish her sentence. Finally, in a small voice, she added, "I just don't believe that's right, Ray. I can't agree with it."

Those words drained the fury out of him. They took everything. Sucked all his righteous anger at Ben and Kowalski away, and left him feeling drained. Empty. Stupid. Although their religion said homosexuality and bisexuality were wrong, were perverted, though he'd been raised to believe that, it seemed that Serena disagreed.

"You know," he said heavily, "it's one thing to admit to yourself that you're wrong. I did that before I came here. Doesn't matter that I pulled my gun to protect Fraser... The law won't see it that way. But somehow -- somehow, I guess I hoped you would."

"I do see that, Ray!"

He shook his head bitterly. "You know what I see in your eyes when you look at me now? A bigot. A vicious bastard who you wouldn't even consider making a life with."

"No," she whispered, stricken. "That's not true!"

"Isn't it?" He felt dead inside. As dead as he had when he was working for the Iguanas, and that was saying something.

But he knew he wasn't the only one who was hurt. All at once, silently, Serena started to cry. Tears ran down her beautiful face, and even through the numbness, the shock of his pain and humiliation, he didn't like seeing that, or knowing that he was the cause of it. He went to her, got down on his knees, and put his arms around her waist. Laid his heavy, guilty head against her, and felt himself shaking. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry!"

He didn't know what else to say, but he was afraid it wasn't enough. So he didn't know if she'd hold him, or push him away. She did neither. Instead, after a long silence, she finally reached down and put a hand on his head. Then she put her arms around him and hugged him back. "I believe you, Ray," she whispered at last. "And I love you. I do. But it isn't me you need to say that to. It's Ben, and Ray Kowalski."

He couldn't speak. I can't do that, he thought. I can't!

So they held each other in silent misery. There was nothing left to say. Everything that counted had been said, and there was no calling any of it back.

Ray's head lay on Ben's shoulder. He felt sated. Drowsy, but really happy. He was back with Ben, back where he belonged, they'd made love again, and things were going to work out. Because even if he couldn't talk Vecchio around, even if he didn't get them reinvited to his wedding, Ben would still be with him. That was the main thing. The only thing that really counted. He knew that, he believed in it now.

"Ray?" Ben asked softly.

"Hmm?" he murmured, loving the warmth that was coming off of Fraser. Not just his big body, although that had him warm and toasty as usual, but from his hands, too. The way they held him, touched his hair -- like he was something precious. Something worth keeping. Even worth fighting for. Remembering how Ben had fought for him at his apartment made him smile, even in his drowsy haze. It's easy to say you'd do anything for someone. But I know Ben will do anything for me. Know he really loves me that much.

So when Ben's hands faltered all of a sudden, Ray wondered what his sudden tension was about. They'd already talked about Vecchio, and as far as he knew, they didn't have any other problems at the moment. Except for Rylan, and Ben didn't know about that. So why had he gone all stiff? Stopped petting him?

"I wanted to ask you..." Ben faltered again, and Ray saw him swallow hard.

"What is it?"

"It's just that -- well, when you left this morning... I wasn't sure what it meant."

Ray shrugged, relieved that Ben's question wasn't about something more serious. "Didn't mean nothin'," he said carelessly. "I just got a temper, ya know. Felt like I was gonna blow, so I got out before I did somethin' stupid. Dat's all. Used to do that with Stella, too. Once our marriage went sour, I did that a lot. Took off, so I wouldn't go nuclear on her."

"Oh." Strangely enough, Fraser sounded relieved.

Ray turned his head to look at him. "Why? Whadja think it meant?"

Ben shrugged awkwardly. "I wasn't sure. You were so angry, I didn't -- well, I didn't know if you were ever coming back," he confessed at last.

"What?" Ray was startled. "Ya thought I left ya for good?" He blinked. He'd never thought Ben would jump to such a dire conclusion. Actually, he hadn't thought about how he'd react to his departure at all. He'd been so mad all he'd thought about was getting out before he exploded, and hit him. But he could see now that he'd done a different kind of damage by leaving. Then again, Ben wasn't the only one who'd had doubts about their relationship, who'd been scared by his partner's actions. "Well, after the way you defended Vecchio, then put that lock on yer door -- I wasn't sure you wanted me back," he admitted.

Ben looked down for a moment, wincing. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I did want you back," he said quietly. "I do. That's why I put it there. For your protection."

"I know." Still, it was good to hear. Very, very good. He propped himself up on an elbow, so that he could look into Ben's eyes. "I just didn't get that at first." He shrugged awkwardly. "Nervous, I guess."

"It's all right." Ben hesitated for a second. Got real serious. Shot him an embarrassed glance. "And... I'll try to do better, Ray," he said humbly. "I'll try to stop--"

"No! Don't," Ray said. He was angry, almost frightened by the look on Ben's face. "Don't say dat. Don't start changin', cuz ya think that's what I want."

Ben frowned in confusion. "But--"

"Look," Ray said, "either we'll work or we won't, but I don't want ya to change yerself for me. Don't want ya to be anythin' but who ya are."

"But I thought..." Ben shrugged, visibly bewildered. "I thought that I drive you crazy sometimes, Ray."

He grinned. "Ya do. But that's okay. I drive you crazy sometimes, too. Don't hear ya askin' me to be different."

Ben just shook his head. Like he still thought he was the one with faults, and Ray was perfect.

"What I mean is, I fell in love with ya the way ya are," Ray went on. "Because o' the way ya are. Don't want ya to start chippin' away at yerself, tryin' to make yerself into somethin' ya think I'll like better." He reached out to touch him, gently traced the line of his jaw with the back of his hand. "Love ya how ya are. Want ya how ya are. Okay?"

Ben still looked confused. Like maybe he'd never understand that. But that was okay. He didn't have to understand it, as long as he accepted it. "Yes. Thank you," he said softly.

But Ray wasn't finished. He felt like he still hadn't laid all Ben's doubts to rest, and he wanted to. "Don't haveta thank me. Just believe me." He sought Ben's eyes. When their gazes caught and held, he saw the last hints of confusion in his lover's blue gaze ebb away. As if his eyes had caught Ben. Steadied him until he felt rock solid.

The Mountie nodded. "All right."

Ray felt a flush of relief, of warmth. But he wasn't done yet. "Want ya to believe this, too: I'm not goin' anywhere. Don't be thinkin' I'm gonna leave ya if we have a fight. I just get crazy sometimes, an' I have to get away. Take some time out, ya know? Go somewhere for awhile, and blow off some steam. That's just me. When I get mad, I gotta move. Do somethin'. So I go to the gym. Pound a bag. Boom, boom! Or get in my car an' drive. Whatever. The point is, it doesn't mean I'm not comin' back. I wouldn't do that."

Ben's eyes lightened even more, as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. "I understand. You merely react to emotional stress differently than I do. So you chose to remove yourself from a volatile situation before it became intolerable to the point that you found yourself unable to--"

"Huh?"

"You took a break, to clear your head," Ben explained.

"Yeah! Exactly. But I didn't leave ya. Not really. Toldja I wasn't gonna leave ya again, and I