Author's website: http://unhinged.0catch.com

Disclaimer: Not mine, which means I can do with them what I wish and not have to worry about getting blamed if they end up a bit worse for the wear.

Author's Notes: Unrepentant sap ahead

Story Notes:

He is never more real to me than at moments like this; lying draped across my body, sated from our lovemaking, his sweat-soaked hair giving new meaning to word "experimental."

And how odd is that, I wonder? For I've seen Ray Kowalski in every facet of his life; happy, sad, angry, depressed, grief-stricken, ready to defend me, defend what he feels is right, with both his body and his razor-sharp mind. I can, with a thought, call up how he smiles when he's pleased, the way he smiled at me the first time I saw him; the way he looked in the squad room that evening, shoulders slumped, a man defeated and beaten down. The way he grinned when I asked him to go out to eat with me, like the sun breaking through the clouds after a long rain.

Ray is a living embodiment of the mercurial. His moods can shift from second to second. Watching him interrogate a suspect is, I can now admit, a tremendously sexual experience, as he flows from good cop to bad cop, from 'I just want to help you' to 'if you don't tell me the truth I will kick you in the head.' I've often found myself as dizzy and light-headed as the suspects, never quite sure who this man is, what he wants, whether the threats of physical violence are simply threats or a promise of reality.

He brings the same quicksilver nature to our sexual relationship. Ray is hard, faster, more, now, please, right this very minute. I, on the other hand, tend to be somewhat slower, more methodical, willing to delay gratification, knowing it will be all the stronger when it comes. It's amazing to me that we've managed to find a middle ground, one that satisfies Ray's dislike of waiting and my willingness to take my time.

I've often wondered when my father told me that partnership was like a marriage if he realized the extent of my feelings towards Ray. I know, from stories I've heard from Frobisher and others his age, that homosexuality was not uncommon in the early days of the RCMP; accepted as a necessary stopgap during the six month or longer patrols away from one's wife or girlfriend. I also know that none of these men considered themselves gay, or even bisexual.

"Frase?" Ray's beginning to move now, skin sliding across skin. I can smell his arousal as much as I feel it, trailing lazily against my hip. Ray is capable of getting aroused several times in the period that it takes me to achieve a single climax. He says he's always been this way. More to the point, it's necessary for him to obtain release at least twice before he's fully sated. He hasn't said much about it, but I believe he spent a great deal of the latter part of he and Stella's marriage perpetually frustrated.

Our love is still such a new thing; perhaps, given time, he'll be able to slow down a bit, once he realizes that I will never leave him unsatisfied. Or perhaps I'll learn how to move a more quickly, concentrate more on the here and now, and less on delaying gratification, knowing that it's always within reach of my hand.

All I know is that, just as he is more real to me, I am finally real to both him and myself. A strange feeling when one's pushing 40, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

End Real by MR: psykaos42@yahoo.com

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