You are the air that I breath, the sky over my head, the wind that blows through my hair, the ground beneath my feet.

I turn, and you are there. I extend my hand, and whatever I need, you hold out to me. I call, and you come. I run, and you run, aside me, behind me, around me, always getting there when I need you, or at least you'll die trying. You grab me before I trip, steady me before I slip, catch me before I fall.

Even when you complain, there's warmth in your voice, even when you don't believe me, you trust me, even when you are reluctant, you never waver, even when you are annoyed, you won't refuse me. I run, knowing you'll be beside me, face a gun, knowing you have me covered, make a promise, knowing you'll keep it, walk into a store, knowing you'll pay. Everything I am, you uphold, everything I hold dear, you treasure, everything I have, you protect.

I bask in the light of your gaze, thrill in the sound of your voice, drawing your love like a blanket around me, sheltering me from the cold. Your love supports the ceiling over my head, the floor beneath my feet, the walls around my room. It fills the air in my room, holds me through the night, carries me through the day. When I need you, you'll be there, as the sun will rise in the morning, as the rain will fall from the clouds, as the river will flow into the sea.

What possesses you to make such an offer, I can't fathom. It's totally gratuitous, unnecessary, extravagant. I refuse, but you persist. You come up with a dozen rationalizations for it, some of it quite clever and others completely silly -- Dief will love it, indeed -- but the truth remains, that it's not necessary. I'm amused by your enthusiasm, irritated by your disregard of logic, and at wit's end for a way to deflect your not-so-coherent arguments.

I want to, isn't that reason enough? you say.

Ray, I say, I know you love me, but that's not reason for you to do this.

You round on me, totally taken aback. Your mouth falls open, you stare at me as if I had just announced that the moon is made of cheese.

Wha-wha-what did you just say? you stammer.

I realize that I have managed to deflect your attention from one argument, only to end up in another, far more serious, one. But I cannot help being amused at how surprised you are, how the voicing of such a simple, fundamental truth can throw you so much off balance.

I said, even though you love me, that's not... I start, but you cut me off.

Hold it right there, you say, your arms waving around widely to punctuate each sentence. I love you?!?!? You're telling me that I love you?! Whatever makes you think such a thing?!?

Oh, sometimes you are so stubborn, resisting the truth lying so plainly in front of your nose.

Why Ray, I say, I'd think it was fairly obvious.

Obvious! you shriek, pacing furiously now in the small kitchen. You are saying it's obvious to you that *I* love *you*? Well, explain it to me, because it's not so obvious to *me*!

Ray, Ray, Ray. I say, trying to calm you down, just think, consider the facts.

I look at you, waiting for an answer, and you look back at me, waiting for me to elaborate. Finally, you say, what facts.

I quickly consider several approaches in my mind. I decide on one that isn't particularly pleasant, but it will be easiest for you to grasp, and it will get the job done.

Well, I say, what about the fact that, since I met you, I've endangered your life 40, or was it 41, times, ruined countless articles of your clothing, caused you to almost lose your job at least a dozen times, got you shot, got you seriously injured by a booby-trap I failed to detect, made you blow up your car, failed to keep your other car from being blown up, in the process causing the death of a fellow officer, trashed your house, caused you to fall under suspicion of murder and robbery, and almost jumped bail, thus almost causing you and your family to lose your home, and you are still not only talking to me, but as far as I'm able to ascertain, you consider me to be your best friend?

Oh, you say, your ire deflating, your furor wiped out, those facts.

Carefully, I nod. My tactics are working, so far. You half-turn away from me, shoulders sagging, your face contorting into a resigned grimace. As I watch, your face relaxes, your eyes close, your face turns up toward the ceiling, revealing the mesmerizing stretch of your throat. Suddenly, you spin, and I find myself boxed into the corner, between the cupboard and refrigerator, where I have been standing. Startled, I look into your eyes, and find them blazing straight into me.

So, I love you, huh? you say. Outwardly, the tone is calm, almost conversational, even amused, but I hear the edge in your voice, challenging yet somehow plaintive.

Yes, you do, I say.

Ah-huh, you say, inching just so slightly forward, crowding me further into the corner, and what about you?

I manage to keep my face straight, but inwardly I squirm. Must every single detail be spelled out for you, I wonder, must everything be spoken out loud in order for you to feel the reality of it?.

Me? I say.

Yes, you, you say, stabbing a finger into my chest. Benton Fraser. Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Do you love Raymond Vecchio?

Your eyes bore into mine, your body presses closer, sensuous, drawing me in, every inch of you intent on seducing from me the words you want to hear. I try to speak, but I can't find my voice. My mouth has gone dry. The closeness of your body makes me dizzy, light headed. I wonder if there are sub-atomic particles exploding in my ears, or perhaps I need to get my hearing checked.

I think that should be obvious, I manage to get out.

Say it, you say.

How can your mood switch so abruptly from one extreme to another? One moment you were in almost total denial of your love, now you lean over me, insistent on drawing me to you, demanding nothing less than my total surrender to your love. I try to speak, but I can't. You lean in closer, raise a hand to gently cradle my cheek.

Say it, you say.

I draw on the gentle encouragment of your touch, give in to the warm seductiveness of your fingers.

I love you, Ray, I finally manage to say, though by now I can hardly breath.

Your thumb brushes softly across my lips.

How? you ask.

I have no idea what you want. How? I ask back. The taste of your thumb filters into my mouth. I know now, if I didn't know already, if I didn't know long ago, I can't deny you anything you want.

Yes, how, you say.

I still don't know what you are asking. I look into your eyes, searching for a clue.

Well, for instance, you say, would you die for me.

My mind fills with images of you, standing in the path of oncoming danger, a bullet, a speeding car, a lunging knife, anything... And I know I will step in, push you out of the way, take whatever deadly threat that is meant for you onto myself.

Yes, I believe I would, I say. But then a image of you, bent over my body, screaming at me for being a total fool and the most annoying idiot, pops into my mind. But you would be upset at me if I do, I add.

That makes you laugh. You gather me into your arms, and I relax in your embrace, enjoying the comfort of being held.

But you'd do it anyway, you say.

I realize the truth of that, and I start laughing. You lift up my chin with your hand and look into my eyes.

Benny, you say, you know I'll die for you, don't you?

Oh, that never is in doubt. Wordlessly, I nod.

And you'll let me, even though you'd wish it was the other way around?

How can I not? I love you. No matter how much I wish... There always is danger inherent in our work. I can no more stop you than you can stop me.

Slowly, reluctantly, I nod again.

So, you say, leaning forward, until our lips are almost touching, our breathes mingling in each other's mouth, you going to let me get the microwave oven for you?

I give in. I still don't know why you want to give it to me, but all of a sudden, that you want to seems like reason enough.

As you wish, I reply, moving my lips against yours. Your tongue flickers out, you close your mouth over mine. My mouth fills with your taste. I surrender, losing myself in you, taking you into me, claiming your love.

You are the air that I breath, the sky over my head, the wind that blows through my hair, the ground beneath my feet. You are the rain that soaks the parched earth of my soul, bringing me life where it was barren before.